Page 7

REBECCA

E very nerve ending in my body feels electrified as Amos lowers me to the bed. My body is vibrating with lust and desire for this man who walked into my life and changed it before I could blink.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs against my collarbone, his voice rough with desire.

“Good trembling.” My hands fist in his hair as his mouth finds the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “Amos, I need—”

“I know, Spice Girl. I’ve got you.”

He takes my nipple into his mouth, lightly scraping his teeth against my breasts, and the sensation shoots straight through my core like liquid fire. My back arches off the mattress, and I cry out. Shivers race across my skin as he lavishes attention on my body.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers as he moves his mouth over my body.

When his fingers hook in the waistband of my panties, I lift my hips to help him slide them away, the lace whispering against my thighs.

The cool air against my heated, wet center makes me shiver, but his warm palms spanning my thighs ground me, his thumbs stroking circles that make my muscles quiver with anticipation.

“Look at me, Rebecca.”

I open eyes I didn’t realize I’d closed to find him watching my face with an intensity that steals my breath. There’s something in his expression beyond desire—something deeper and more overwhelming that makes my chest tight with an emotion I’m not ready to name.

“You’re beautiful. So damn beautiful it hurts to look at you.”

His touch is everything I’ve fantasized about and more.

Gentle but sure, patient but hungry, like he has all the time in the world to explore every inch of my body.

When his fingers find me wet and ready, sliding through my slickness with maddening slowness, I arch into the contact with a moan that echoes off the hotel room walls.

“Is this what you want?” His thumb finds my clit, circling it with an aching slowness that drives me wild and has me bucking against his hand. “Tell me what you need, beautiful. I like the feeling of you bucking against me.”

“Yes. God, yes. More.”

When his mouth replaces his fingers, the sensation is so intense that I see stars. His tongue works magic against me, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure that has me climbing toward something overwhelming and inevitable.

“Come for me, beautiful. Show me what pleasures you the most and makes you come.”

His words, combined with that perfect pressure, send me over the edge. The climax crashes through me in waves that leave me gasping and shaking, my fingers digging into his shoulders as pleasure rolls through my entire body in endless pulses.

Amos kisses me through the aftershocks, soft and sweet, while I float back to awareness, tasting myself on his lips. “I could watch you do that all night.”

He reaches for his wallet, fumbling for protection with shaking hands. We’re really doing this. This beautiful, complicated man is about to make love to me, and every cell in my body is screaming yes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, poised above me with concern tempering the heat in his eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

When he enters me, slow and careful and perfect, the sensation steals the breath from my lungs.

The stretch and fullness are overwhelming—not just the physical connection, though feeling him deep inside me sends sparks through every nerve ending—but the emotional intensity of being this connected to someone who sees me in a way no one ever has.

“Rebecca.” My name sounds like a prayer on his lips as he stills, letting me adjust to the feel of him filling me completely. “God, you feel amazing. So tight, so perfect.”

The initial burn gives way to something deeper, more intense. He moves slowly at first, each thrust sending shockwaves through my system. The drag of him against my sensitive walls, the way he hits that perfect spot inside me with every powerful stroke, is better than I could have imagined.

“More,” I whisper against his neck, my hands on his back, pulling him closer to my body. “Please, Amos.”

He responds by shifting the angle, lifting my hips slightly so he can thrust deeper, hitting something inside me that makes stars explode behind my closed eyelids. The rhythm he sets is perfect—slow enough to savor every sensation, intense enough to drive me toward another peak.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sound he makes—somewhere between a groan and my name—sends heat flooding through me. This feels right in a way that defies logic.

Every thrust builds the pressure inside me higher. The way his body moves against mine, skin slick with sweat, muscles flexing with each controlled movement, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.

“I can’t—” The words dissolve into incoherent sound as he picks up the pace, each thrust sending me higher toward something that feels like it might shatter me completely. “Amos, I’m going to—”

“With me,” he rasps, his control visibly fraying as his movements become more urgent. “Come with me, beautiful.”

The second climax hits even harder than the first, pulling him over the edge with me. His body goes rigid above me as he finds his release, my name falling from his lips in a rough groan. We collapse together, breathing hard and trembling, his weight settling over me like the most perfect blanket.

“That was…” I trail off because words feel inadequate for the bright, powerful waves of pleasure breaking in me.

“Yeah.” He rolls to his side, pulling me against his chest, our bodies still riding out the lingering tremors of pleasure. “It was.”

As our heartbeats slow and reality seeps back in, I realize something fundamental has shifted. This wasn’t just sex—it was an emotional connection so deep that it’s changed something essential about who I am.

I don’t understand how I can feel this connected to someone I’ve known for three days. But lying here in his arms, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin, I know with absolute certainty that what we just shared was real.

I’m falling for this cowboy.

“Tell me about this.” Amos’s fingers trace the turquoise necklace I’m still wearing—the only thing I haven’t taken off.

“It was my grandmother’s.” I capture his hand and press it flat against my heart.

When I pull back, his expression has grown serious. “Rebecca, I need you to know that what happened between us wasn’t just about tonight.”

“I know.” The admission comes easily, honestly. “Even if it started as fake, having you in my corner felt real. Being with you feels natural and easy, like we’ve known each other for a lot longer than a few days.”

“It was real for me too.” His thumb strokes across my cheekbone with reverent tenderness. “Maybe it started as me helping you, but somewhere along the way, it became the most real thing in my life.”

The confession sends warmth spiraling through my chest. This cowboy with his easy charm and surprising vulnerability has taken up permanent residence in my heart.

“You said your relationship with your mother is complicated.”

“She worked double shifts to give me opportunities my father never had. She wanted me to have a stable life, not one where I was on the road half the year and risking my life at every rodeo.” His hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers and raising my hand to his mouth to kiss each of my knuckles.

“Instead, I chose the same path that broke her heart when my father didn’t come home after a rodeo gone wrong. ”

“She’s scared of losing you.” I press a soft kiss to his chest, tasting salt and something essentially him. “Maybe this season could be different. Maybe you could find a way to bridge that gap.”

“Maybe.” He strokes my hair. “Being with you makes me want to try. Makes me want to be the kind of man that you deserve.”

Outside the window, the sounds of the fair reach us. But here in this bed, skin to skin and heart to heart, the rest of the world feels distant.

“What are you thinking about?” Amos asks, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare shoulder.

“How this doesn’t feel fake at all.” I shift to look at him directly. “How it feels like the most real thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Good.” He cups my face, thumbs stroking across my cheekbones. “Because I’m falling for you, Rebecca Cooper. Hard and fast and completely.”

The words send my heart soaring even as they terrify me. “That’s crazy. We’ve known each other for three days.”

“Some things don’t need time to be real.” His voice carries absolute conviction. “What I feel for you is more powerful than anything I’ve experienced. All I know is that I’d be a damn fool to let you go, and I have no intention of being a damn fool.”

The easy way we talk about feelings should terrify me. Three days ago, this man was a stranger. Now he’s confessing he’s falling for me, and instead of running, I want to fall with him.

Lying here in his arms, feeling more content and connected than I have in years, it doesn’t feel rushed. It feels inevitable. Like every choice I’ve made has been leading me to this moment, this man, this overwhelming sense of rightness.

As his mouth finds mine in a kiss that is filled with promises, my last thought is that I’m in love with Amos Cross.