Page 53 of Trying Not to Need You

I hold my grin. “It’s safe, or I never would have suggested it. Come on, Moran, what are you afraid of?”

“Falling off and breaking an arm or a leg or both.”

“It’s no different from riding a horse,” I remind her.

“Buckwheat doesn’t try to buck me off,” she sasses.

“Come on. I promise you, it’ll be fine.”

“Fine, but if I break something, you have to be my personal nurse until I heal.”

“Baby, that’s not the threat that you think it is.” I laugh as I offer her my hand and help her up. “Relax,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her. She does, but she immediately stiffens, and I know why. “You’re here, in my space, riding my bull, baby. Fuck, Baylor, all you have to do is breathe, and I’m hard for you. Just ignore it.”

“What do I do?” she asks, swallowing hard.

“Hold on to the rope.” I keep my voice steady and calm. “Place your hand next to mine. My arms are around you, Bay. I won’t let you fall.” I’m really surprised she’s this worried about falling when she’s been riding horses her entire life.

I think it’s more than just the bull. That’s not what’s making her nervous. It’s me, and the way she feels about me. She’s fighting our connection when it’s inevitable.

But this? Me this close? My hands on her, my voice in her ear, the way she fits back against me like she was meant to be there. The way her ass is nestled against my hard cock. That’s what makes her nervous. She wants me, and she’s fighting it. This has nothing to do with the mechanical bull or falling off.

I tighten my hold just slightly—not enough to startle her, just enough to remind her I’m here—when the machine gives a low whir beneath us. “You’re overthinking it,” I murmur. “Don’t fight it. Just move with it. Let your body relax and follow the motion of the bull.”

Her head tilts a fraction, leaning against my shoulder. She knows I’m not just talking about the ride.

“I’m not—” she starts, but the bull shifts under us, a slow, testing roll. Her body tenses instantly, shoulders pulling tight, fingers gripping the rope harder.

“Hey,” I say softly, closer now, my lips near her ear. “Relax. Feel it first. Let it show you what it’s going to do.”

She shifts slightly, and my cock throbs, begging for the barrier between us to be removed. Even through two layers of clothing, my reaction to her can’t be masked. Not when she’s sitting this close.

“Like this.” I lean into the turn, encouraging her to follow the motion instead of resisting it. My hand at her waist presses just enough to remind her that I’ve got her. She relaxes further. “See? You don’t fight it. You go with it. Good girl,” I praise, and can hear her suck in an audible breath. My girl likes praise. Good to know.

Her body yields just a little more, following the slow motion of the bull. She’s getting the hang of it.

“That’s it,” I say, quieter now, a note of approval slipping through before I can stop it. “You’re riding like a pro, baby,” I tell her.

She lets out a shaky laugh, somewhere between nerves and something else entirely. “This isn’t so bad, but it’s also really slow. I don’t think I could do faster.”

I smile against her shoulder, though she can’t see it. “You could. I know you could.”

The bull rolls again, a little stronger this time, and she leans back into me. Like it’s instinct, like she trusts me to be there.

And I am.

I always will be.

My grip tightens just enough to steady her, but I don’t hold her back. I let her feel it, figure it out, because she needs to see for herself that she can do this. That she’s already doing it.

But I also don’t miss the way she relaxes inch by inch, the way her movements start to sync with mine, with the rhythm beneath us. I wish that I could see her face, because this is turning me on like nothing ever has before. I want to see her blue eyes fill with heat because, with every twist and roll of this damn bull, her ass rises and falls against my cock, which is straining so hard against my boxer briefs and my sweats that it’s painful.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but I need to stop this bull and put a little bit of space between us, as bad as I hate to admit it.

“See?” My voice is low and raspy. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall,” I say as the bull comes to a stop.

This time, when she leans back, it’s not because the bull made her. It’s because she chooses to. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling with each breath. She makes no effort to move, and neither do I. Instead, I wrap both arms around her, giving up my grip on the bull rope and kissing down her neck. She tilts her head to the side, giving me room to explore her.

“You might have unlocked a new kink for me, Baylor,” I whisper, nipping at her earlobe.