Page 63 of A Bittersweet Summer

She takes her hands off the wheel, placing them over mine with a gentle touch.

I’m so hard, I can’t think straight—can’t think beyond her bare shoulder, my lips, and the involuntary way I encourage her again with my hands.

Hesitantly, Cass arches her back, sliding her ass right over my cock again, the heat returning.

She rocks against me, her head tilting back. “Do youwantto come?” she asks, punctuating the statement with another firm drag over my lap.

The sensation builds, and I can no longer think of a reason why that answer would ever beno.

Of course, I want to come.

Of course, I want to come withCassidy Summersas the one making it happen.

I groan, tilting my head back when she drags over me again. “Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I do.”

Cass takes that as permission, foot driving into the brake to keep us parked, hands braced on the wheel, she rocks herself against me, letting out harsh breaths with every push.

I watch her long hair sweep across her back, shifting with every movement. My entire body is set aflame—burning up in the atmosphere that isher.

I give in, guiding her hips with my hands, lifting myself off the seat to get more friction—more sensation until I’m consumed by sunshine and long conversations—by sugary coffee and—shit.

“That’s it,” I groan, watching as she tilts her head back, staring up at the blue sky. She arches again, and I watch as her ass slides back, watch the bulge in my jeans as my orgasm builds. “Go on,” I encourage, my fingers leaving dents in her sides. “Finish what you started.”

She takes me up on that offer.

I’m thrusting, meeting every motion as I pull her hips down. There’s more pressure, and everything is building, building—

When I feel the pleasure crest, I hold her against me, stilling her as I fill my jeans.

Fuck.

This was not thought through. Somehow, we need to get the spreader going, drive around this field until it’s empty, and I have to make it back to the barn without being seen so I can go up to the house and change.

“Shit,” I breathe, my chest heaving. I still haven’t had a proper conversation with her. Instead of doing my job, I’ve completely lost control.

And you know what?

I let out another deep breath.

I don’t think I care. The farm is running. The horses are happy. What’s needed done is getting done. I’ve completely lost my control, and Ilikedit.

When Cass turns to look at me, a satisfied smile teases the edges of her mouth. Her gaze slides down to where our bodies meet, and back up.

“Might want to clean up,” she taunts. “I can help you make your escape into the house when we get back. I’m very stealthy.”

I huff a laugh before adjusting the backward ballcap on my head. The sun lights up her features, reminding me of how beautiful she is—or just reaffirming. It’s difficult to forget anything about Cass.

“I think I remember seeing some of the stealth when you fought off a flock of geese a few months ago.”

She stands, hopping off the tractor with ease as she moves to pull the lever on the spreader, and I’m graced with the dark spot on my jeans.

I run a hand down my face. “A fucking teenager,” I mutter.

When Cassidy hops back up onto the tractor, she perches herself on my knee, careful to avoid the proof of what we just did.

And as we circle the field, even as we return to the empty barn, and I scramble my way to the house, narrowly avoiding Roe on the way, I can’t help but think about how badly I want to do it all over again.

Seventeen