Page 115 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

“Because I fucking love it. I’m gonna blow hot cum right into your cervix, baby. Now make yourself come. Flick that clit, baby. I’m close. Fuck,” he groans, holding his orgasm back.

I reach between my legs, the fit’s impossibly tight but I manage to glide two fingers against the hood of my clit like a “V”.

“You’re gripping me so tight. Fuck. Fucking come!” he barks, snapping his hips forward one last time and spilling deep inside me.

I don’t know if it’s his hot cum filling me, the way he’s been relentlessly pounding my G-spot with the head of his cock, or his demand, but I fall apart. He strokes his dick in and out of me through my orgasm until I’m trembling.

Connor pulls out slowly, our combined cum leaking down my legs. He gathers it up with his hand and shoves four cupped fingers back into my tender sex.

“Oh my god,” I whine. Why? Why is this so unbelievably hot?

“You better hold my cum in your cunt, baby, because it needs to stay inside you where it belongs.” He slaps my ass again, the sting from the cold intensifying the pain. Surely I have red handprints on my ass cheeks.

He pulls up my thong and jeans for me, leaving me to button and zip them before doing up his own jeans—ever the gentleman, even freshly fucked.

He takes his cowboy hat back from my head and kisses me sweetly on the lips.

“You’re a real cowboy now, stud. A farrier to boot,” I say.

“I’m not your studmuffin anymore?” he asks playfully.

“Naw, baby, you leveled up.”

48

It’s the second year in a row I don’t get to be with my twin on her birthday. Irish twin, but still, this day is important to me too. Reid whisked her away to god knows where. He’s taken to spoiling her rotten and though she protests, she secretly loves it.

Harper was sick, so Greyson insisted we ignore his birthday. He’s crazy intimidating, so no one dared argue with him. Connor left a six-pack on his doorstep, knocked and ran like his ass was on fire. I laughed so hard that my big tough husband’s afraid of growly Greyson.

Connor’s been gone a lot. I’d be concerned if I had a speck of doubt about his loyalty, but I trust him implicitly, I always have. So I busy myself registering for the equine assisted learning program I chose.

Livy’s supposed to be coming over for facials and 90s movies, so when there’s a knock at the door, I holler for her to come in since I left it unlocked.

I bounce out of the bedroom, giddy to have some girl time—and stop dead.

My mother’s standing by the kitchen counter, digging through my purse. A large man stands menacingly blocking the doorway.

“Mom, what are you doing here? You can’t be here. I have a restraining order. You could get arrested,” I plead. Even if she’s a terrible mom, I can’t help noticing she’s gaunt and her skin isn’t a human color.

She’s strung out on something I don’t recognize, which scares the shit out of me. I know how she behaves drunk, or high on weed, coke, or heroine. But this is something different.

“Yea, I know, you stupid cunt. What kind of stuck-up bitch gets a restraining order against their own mother? I fed you, clothed you, kept a roof over your head for twenty-three fucking years and all the thanks I get is two useless daughters who opened their legs for men with money instead of taking care of their sick mother.”

My stomach clenches with everything wrong that she said. I can’t process it before she spouts off again.

“So, you’re gonna give me whatever I want. And if you don’t, I’m gonna take it,” she says, thumbing over her shoulder at the man whose lecherous stare makes my skin crawl.

“Told you she was pretty.” The implication makes my stomach roil. The creep eyes me like I’m a steak and he’s starving.

“What do you want?” I ask, like a weak little girl.

“You can start by giving me your PIN numbers because I’m taking your cards. Keep money in the accounts for me to spend and we won’t have any problems.”

Easy enough, I’ll cancel the cards as soon as she leaves and call the police.

“As a matter of fact, give me that fucking rock off your finger.” She rushes over to me, gripping my left hand between her shaking ones so tightly it hurts.

“The Hayes boy finally make an honest woman out of you? You’ve been following him around like a bitch in heat for years.”