Page 73 of Cowboy in Colorado
“You said something about a shower, a nap, and then…what was the last part?” he asks, hiding a grin.
I take the soap from him. “A shower, a nap, and then I ride you like a stallion until you don’t know your own name.”
“Ohhh, right. That.” He lets me wash him. “I think I’ll collect on that last part now.”
I boggle at him, because he is indeed showing signs of being ready for me again. “How, Will? I thought I sucked you off so good you’d be done for at least an hour.”
“You did.” He shrugs. “But then I saw you wet and naked and soapy, and…” He smirks. “You just do something to me I can’t explain.”
“I turn you on?”
“Oh, right. That.” He laughs, shakes his head. “It’s beyond that.”
He lifts me, settles me around his waist, and I wrap my legs around him and take him into me. “We can’t finish like this.”
“I know,” he murmurs. “I just want to feel you bare, just for a minute.”
“Another first,” I mutter, gasping at the feel of him like this.
“Same here.” His eyes meet mine. “You have to get on birth control. I have to have you like this.”
“I will,” I say. “Tomorrow—today, whatever. As soon as possible.”
And then he’s grunting and snarling, lifting me off of him and carrying me into the bedroom, both of us still dripping wet. He snags a condom and jams it on as fast as he can, sets me on my back on the edge of the bed, and drives into me.
I let him take a few strokes like this, but then I push him back. Shove him onto the bed, climb onto him, straddle his erection, sink him into me once more and we both groan in unison—and then I’m off, riding him.
His eyes fly open as I ride him with everything I have, and our eyes are locked, wild and furious, and he’s groaning my name, again and again—
The way he did that day in the cabin— broken, shattered. This time, though, he doesn’t shy away from it. Instead, he worships me with his hands as we move together, and as he starts to find his release—at the same moment I find my own—he whispers my name.
I don’t have to hear the three little words he’s already said to know he means them, as he chants my name: “Brooklyn, Brooklyn, oh god, Brooklyn…”
It’s the same as:I love you, I love you, oh god, I love you.
That’s what I hear, and I’ve never felt so loved, so at peace and full of joy and contentment as I do with this man, this wild rugged cowboy from Colorado.
Epilogue
Will swings down from the saddle as the jet turbines wind down. He stands tall, a ball cap low on his head, shading his blue eyes. Gopher is unconcerned by the noise of the jet engines, but Demon is a bit more bothered—he’s had too much training over the last two years to buck or rear, but he’s dancing, snorting, pawing the cropped turf beside the runway. He’s also just happy to see me.
Demon is my horse, and I’m the only one who can ride him—aside from Will, for short periods of time. Will trained him, but he’s my horse—or rather, I’m his person. Either way, my big bad buddy is happy to see me, and I’m happy to see him.
I still spend several days out of the week in New York, running BRED, of which I’m now CEO. We have holdings all over the world, and many of them feature horses—all provided by Bar-A Ranch. But I’ve taken over the business management from him so he can focus on horses, which are his one true love…after me, of course.
He comes to New York with me quite a bit, and he’s made quite a splash in the elite social world of Uptown Manhattan, let me tell you. Mainly because he gives zero shits about their standards and traditions and mores, and says things how they are. And, of course, because he’s more man than any six of the rich fluffy buffoons put together.
We have fun running the town together, though.
Auden Town is a booming success, more so than even I suspected it would be. We’ve had to add on twice, and now it’s more of a small town than a big village, and every inch of it is authentic. No cars allowed. There’s fleet of six-horse drawn carriages that run between the resort village and Auden Town every hour, and those carriages are the only way in and the only way out, except on foot or on horseback.
Just the way the Audens want it.
Just the way I want it.
Today, though, I’m not the president and CEO of Bellanger Real Estate Development, or a managing partner of Bar-A Ranch. I’m just plain old Brooklyn, Will’s wife, and a woman who missed her husband something fierce, having been scouting locations for a new condo complex in Rio de Janeiro.
He kisses me as soon as his hands latch on my hips, and I’m left breathless, as I always am whenever he kisses me like this. “How was Brazil?” he asks, once he’s decided to let me breathe again.