Page 95 of The Cowboy and the Stray

The sky was turning purple, and the mosquitoes were starting to bite. I wanted to say more, but the words stuck.

Tess reached across the table and put her hand on mine. It was warm, and a little sticky from the lemonade.

“I don’t know if I can promise forever,” she said, soft. “I don’t know if I even believe in it.”

“You don’t have to.” I squeezed her hand. “I already do.”

She laughed, but it turned into a hiccup. “You know, you’re the least romantic person alive. But that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

I shrugged because I didn’t know what else to do.

She stood up, pulled the blanket with her, and spread it out on the balcony floor. “Come here,” she said.

I did.

She knelt down, patting the spot next to her, and I sat. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and we just watched the night take over. The horses moved in the distance, little ghost shapes against the pasture. Someone was playing a radio somewhere, turned low, and I could almost make out the song.

After a while, she looked up at me.

“You ever done this before?” she said.

I shook my head. “Not even close.”

She grinned. “Good. Me neither.” She hesitated. “What I had with Lance, that was nothing like this. That was…” Waving her hands around, she shrugged. “I have no idea what it was. It was surviving, I think.”

She moved closer, slipped her hands up my shirt, and danced her fingers across my skin.

I put my hand on the back of her neck. She tasted like lemonade and salt, and something sweet I couldn’t name. She kissed me like she meant to leave a mark. Maybe she did.

Her hands were everywhere, always moving, not delicate but determined. She pushed my shirt off and ran her palms down my back, pulling me closer. I lifted her onto my lap, careful of her ankle. She wrapped her arms around me and didn’t let go.

I wanted to take it slow, but I was starving for her. It was raw, the way hunger is, the way need is when you’ve never let yourself have it before. She bit my lip and laughed, then kissed me again, deeper this time.

The blanket was rough, and the wood was hard under my knees, but I didn’t care. She tugged the dress up over her hips, bunching it at her waist, and I nearly lost my mind. Her legs, bare and dusted with old bruises, wrapped around me.

We stayed like that for a while, kissing, touching. She whispered my name, low, like a secret, and I answered with her name in return. Tess.

I pushed her back gently and kissed the scar on her collarbone. She shivered and dug her fingers into my hair.

She said, “You want me?”

I said, “I’ve wanted you since I found you in my barn.”

She laughed, then tugged my head down and kissed me until I forgot my name.

I slid my hand under her dress, tracing the line of her thigh. She was shaking, but she wasn’t scared. She pulled me in, and I lost the thread.

We didn’t talk after that. There was nothing to say.

I eased myself into her, slow at first. She arched up, her mouth on my shoulder, and I tried to remember to breathe. The world got quiet, except for the sound of her. She grabbed my hand and locked her fingers through mine, holding on like she was falling.

She was small and tight and so hot it was almost unbearable. I moved in her, steady, listening to the way she gasped. She scratched my back and made little noises in my ear, soft and sharp. When she came, it surprised both of us. She bit down on my shoulder and made a sound I’ll never forget.

Holy shit, her biting me was hot.

I followed a second later, and for a minute, I forgot what world we lived in. I just stayed there, inside her, not moving, not thinking, just holding on.

After, she curled up in my lap, head against my chest. I wrapped the blanket around us and tried to slow my heart. She traced circles on my ribs, not saying anything.