Page 7 of Buck Me (Kingridge Ranch #5)

DANNER

I spent the night tossing and turning. I’m fighting with myself over the kiss that could change everything. Becca looks at me like I’m the man I want to be. Not the man I’ve been. Not the man I’ve failed to outrun. She makes me want to be better. Makes me believe I could be.

Honestly, it scares the hell out of me. Because she’s too good to be true. She’s too young to be sure. And yet, when I close my eyes, all I see is her.

This morning, I’m up with the sun. I pull my boots on and my hat low. I take my wheatgrass shot and fill my thermos with black coffee. Then I make my way across the ranch toward the future home of the garden, still fighting that same quiet war in my chest.

It’s early. But when I arrive, there’s movement in the distance, and it catches my eye.

“Thrusty, you stupid goat, I know it’s you.” I squint at the silhouette in the rising sun.

The rambunctious farm animal has been on the run for a week after chewing through a weak spot in the fencing around his pen.

I haven’t yet had the pleasure of being personally assaulted by the horned menace.

But from what I’ve heard, it’s a rite of passage around here.

Maybe today’s the day I earn my cowboy street cred.

I pick up my pace, still squinting into the morning haze. But when I reach the edge of the field, it’s not Thrusty rustling through the brush?—

It’s Becca.

She’s kneeling in the red clay. The sleeves on her oversized button-down shirt are rolled up. She’s got headphones on and is lost in her own world, tugging weeds like she’s been at it for hours. Her hair’s pulled into a messy braid.

When I get closer, I note the dirt smudged across her cheek like war paint. She yanks hard with both hands, pulling a stubborn root loose from the earth. “I need a mental picture, and this is in my way,” she mutters, mostly to herself. Then she stands and smooths her shirt, breathless.

I step closer. “Don’t stop on my account.”

She looks over her shoulder and jumps. “Danner, you freaking scared me. You have to warn people. I’m a hot mess.”

“I see you,” I say quietly. “Hot is right, and I like the mess.”

She goes still. The energy between us is charged like lightning in the air before a storm.

I step into her space and catch her chin in my hand.

Then tilt her face up to mine. Without a word, our lips meet.

There’s no hesitation and no second-guessing.

It’s just heat and need. The whole world pulls into focus around us.

Her mouth parts for me, and our tongues meet, slow and sweet, and then something else entirely. Becca is intoxicating. I kiss her like I’ve waited a lifetime for it because I have. All the wrong paths and all the heartache have led me to this moment.

My hands settle around the curve of her ass and her breath catches. Roaming her back and pulling her close, I am desperate for more friction. I lift her easily, and her thick thighs wrap around my waist. Her laughter muffles against my neck as I carry her toward the greenhouse.

I lean on the old door, and it creaks open behind us.

Dust floats in the air like flecks of gold.

Once we are inside, the air is thick with the smell of rich earth.

I set Becca on the wooden countertop. It’s worn smooth and warm from the sunlight streaming in through the old windows.

Her fingers grip the front of my shirt like she's never letting go.

There’s no hesitation in her eyes, but I ask the questions anyway. Are you sure?

Do you want this? And finally, can I take care of you?

When she responds, her breath is quick and her cheeks flush. “I’ve never been sure of anything, but I am sure of you.”

In an instant, my mouth is back on hers. It’s a frenzy of tugging and pulling. I plant kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. My fingers find the hem of her shirt. When I pull it over her head, the morning air kisses her skin. I bury my face in her swollen cleavage.

Her hands work at the buttons of my flannel. When it falls away, she traces the lines of ink on my forearms. “Danner, you are everything."

I lean her back and slip her shorts onto the floor.

Mine follow. My mouth finds the hollow of her throat, then I move lower.

When I press on her thighs, she lets them fall open for me.

I run my tongue down the length of her slit only to find she’s already drenched.

The taste of her sends blood coursing through me and my cock pulsates with anticipation.

Taking my time, I work her into a fervor. She matches my long strokes by arching into my touch, and it’s stunning. Becca’s fingers dig into the back of my scalp, and she moans my name into the ceiling. The breathy sound ignites me.

I climb on top of her and line myself up with her opening.

Becca’s hand shoots up, and she presses her fingers into my chest. “You have to go slow, this is my first time.”

“Okay, I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

I press inside of her slowly. Becca gasps as I fill her. My body hums while her walls stretch around my girth. We finally come together, slow and sweet and desperate all at once. I pick up the pace and rock into her.

Grasping at her ass, I guide her movements until her hips move in time with my thrusts. I lose myself in time and space. Claiming her is white hot bliss. Becca is the only thing I can see, and I already know there isn’t any going back.

When she asks me for more, I give it to her. I thrust into Becca until she clenches along my length. Her beautiful body wracks with tremors. Her breath comes in shallow gasps. It takes everything in me to hold on as I drive her toward the edge.

When she falls over, she takes me with her. Becca chants my name as she rides a wave of release, and it undoes me. I cage her in with arms, pin her to the countertop, and pound her into the old wooden surface until I collapse.