Page 23 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

“You took your sweet ass time getting over here,” she states, not waiting for us as she throws back the contents of her glass, Faith following suit.

I cheers with Stetson before we take the shots, the strong taste of tequila almost making my eyes water. He wastes no time ordering another, stealing my glass to do the same, but he bats Rylie’s away from her, not letting her have any more straight liquor.

Once our second shots are gone, Rylie grabs Stetson’s hand and pulls him over to a booth near the corner where a man stands, supposedly taking requests.

As soon as they’re out of sight, Faith surprises me as she slides up next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and staring up at the side of my face.

“What do you say?” she asks, gesturing toward the dance floor. “Want to dance?”

“I thought you hate dancing?”

She shrugs, tilting her head slightly. “I could be persuaded. It’s not line dancing, after all.”

“I’ll get you to line dance one of these days,” I grumble, reaching for her free hand. “If I go out there and dance with you now, you owe me.”

“Actually, I think I have a better idea.”

Before I can respond, ask what is going through that beautiful head of hers, she reaches up, grabs my hat, and places it atop her blonde curls, and I swear my heart stops for a split second. The grin she’s giving me is a devilish one, one full of promise if I take the bait.

I guess it’s fishing season.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Sweetheart.” My voice comes out more gravely than I had expected, but I guess that’s just the effect she has on me.

Placing a hand on my chest, she bites her lip as she stares up at me before saying, “I’m very aware of the cowboy hat rule, Pretty Boy. The ball is in your court.”

My eyes flutter shut involuntarily as I groan, something about the way she uses my own words against me making me harder than I was before. When my eyes open, she’s backing away, heading toward a hallway I didn’t see before. She winks before she pushes open a door and disappears inside.

Glancing around, I spot Rylie and Stetson standing beside the stage as someone else sings, presumably waiting for their turn. That means I have about six minutes before they’re looking for us.

And I plan on making good use of those six minutes.

I make my way toward the hallway, not bothering to look behind me to see if anyone is watching me go. If she’s worried about being seen in public with me like this, she wouldn’t have baited me like she did. That much I know—she’s well aware I’ll never turn her down.

Pushing open the door, I quickly slip inside, and before I can get my bearings, a pair of hands are pushing me against the door, and a set of lips are on mine.

My hands land on her hips instinctively as hers trail up my chest and wrap around my neck, burying into my hair in that delicious way that has me moaning into her mouth.

Curving my hands over her perfect ass, I slip them behind her thighs and hoist her up, her legs wrapping around my waist on instinct which causes her dress to ride up.

She pulls back for a moment to catch her breath, so I open my eyes and quickly scan our surroundings.

We’re in the women’s bathroom. There’s a single toilet in the corner blocked by half of a partition, a single sink, and mirror.

Tons of random wall signs and other various pictures cover the wall along with people’s handwriting, and one bright neon red sign lights the room.

The glow it casts on Faith’s skin makes her look hotter than sin.

“Tell me, Sweetheart,” I whisper as I trail my lips over her neck, walking us slowly over to the other wall. “Is this why you wore a dress? Were you hoping to get fucked tonight?”

“No,” she whispers as I push her back against the wall beside the sink. “I knew I was going to.”

I pull back to look at her with an arched brow. “Oh, did you now?”

“Mhm,” she hums as she stares at me, her eyes roaming over my face. “You can’t seem to say no to me.”

“You have no idea just how true that is.”

Just as I’m about to kiss her again, the door handle jingles causing us both to freeze for a moment. Whoever tried to walk in leaves rather quickly upon finding it occupied. However, when I turn to gaze at Faith, she has a slight furrow between her brows.

“We don’t have to do this, Sweetheart,” I say, watching her expression carefully.

She huffs, slipping her hands to my shoulders as she lets her feet fall back to the floor before giving me a slight push, putting a couple feet between our bodies. Side-stepping me, she begins to walk toward the door.

“It’s okay if you can’t ride, Pretty Boy,” she taunts, reaching for the handle as she glances back at me. “I’ll go find me a cowboy that can.”

Taking a large step forward, I gently wrap my hand around her neck and pull her back toward me, pinning her against the wall. I can feel her heartbeat racing under my forearm, her breath coming out in needy pants as a satisfied smile plays on her lips.

“The only cowboy that’s going to be riding you is me,” I tell her, a desperate and authoritative tone slipping into my voice of its own accord. “Say it.”

“The only cowboy that’s going to be riding me is you,” she breathes, her right hand resting on my wrist while the other reaches up to grab my hat off her head and place it back on mine.

I shake my head at her. “Keep it on.”

Before she can react, I’m hoisting her up once more, turning to set her down so she’s sitting on the sink before I reconnect our lips, teasing my tongue along her bottom lip.

She opens for me with zero hesitation, our tongues colliding as I let my hands trail up under her dress, her legs on either side of my hips.

She gasps when I slip one hand between her legs and I groan, pulling away from her lips when I feel just how wet and ready she is for me already.

“Look at you, dripping for me,” I murmur, pulling my hand away to glance at my fingers. Connecting our gazes, I slip them into my mouth, her sweetness coating my tongue, and her eyes fall shut as a soft, barely audible moan slips past her lips. “You taste like heaven.”

Sitting up, she reaches for me, her palm landing flat against the hard-on I’m sporting in my jeans. I have to bite my lip to suppress my groan at the contact, rolling my neck before I lock eyes with her once more. “Look at you, hard for me.”

I grab her face between my hands, kissing her roughly as she fumbles with my belt buckle.

Once she gets it open, she makes quick work of the button on my jeans and my zipper, slipping a hand into my boxers to grip me bare.

I jerk into her hand involuntarily, the feeling of her soft hand wrapped around me making me lightheaded, desperate, hungry.

Taking a small step back, she slips off the edge of the sink, feet landing on the ground, and her hand falls away.

I nip her bottom lip before pulling away, my hands landing on her hips as I turn her around.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror, gazing at me over her shoulder.

Her hair is slightly messy, although the hat is helping to keep it somewhat tamed.

Her eyes carry that glazed look that I have grown obsessed with, the one I often see in my dreams or the ones I imagine when I jerk off to memories of her.

“I want you to watch,” I whisper, my mouth ghosting over her ear. “I want you to watch how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me. How sexy you look when you’re close. How perfect you take me.”

Her eyes fall shut as she pants at my words while I take my cock out of my boxers.

Reaching under her dress, I move her underwear to the side before I grip myself at the base, lining up with her entrance.

We both moan as I slide into her, her walls clenching around me so tightly that I have to stop once I’m completely seated—if I don’t, this won’t last longer than a few seconds.

Faith’s hands grip either side of the sink, arching into me. She wiggles her hips, seeking friction, begging me to move, so I do. I pull almost completely out of her before I surge forward, smiling to myself as she moans louder than before, her breaths coming out harsher, quicker.

“Eyes open, Sweetheart,” I demand, my left hand sliding around her front to grip her chin, forcing her eyes on the mirror.

Once they’re open and she takes us in, my right hand slips around the front of her thigh and works its way between her legs, gently rubbing her clit.

Her lids flutter closed at the feeling, so I grip her chin tighter, satisfied when her eyes fly open. “I told you to watch.”

My hips surge forward harder, faster, my left hand falling to grip her throat as I watch her over her shoulder—mouth partly open, eyes wild and dazed, her knuckles white on the sink.

Her moans mix with mine when I continue to find her g-spot, and when her legs begin to tremble, I know she’s close.

My left hand leaves her throat and my arm wraps around her waist, holding her tightly against me and keeping her upright.

She throws her head back so it lands on my shoulder, my hat falling off her head and settling on the floor.

“Jesse,” she pants, her hands leaving the sink to grip my wrists tightly as I increase the pressure on her clit. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, Sweetheart,” I breathe against her ear, my cock twitching inside her as her walls clench down on me.

Her whole body shakes as a loud gasp escapes her, and I moan as she pulses around me. She pants as I continue to move, clawing at my arms as I work her through her orgasm. I’m coming three thrusts later, spilling into her as my hips jerk and a deep guttural groan escapes my throat.

Our gazes connect in the mirror, and she gives me a weak, satisfied smile, her hands falling away from my wrists to rest on the sink.

I slowly slide out of her, watching as some of my cum runs down her thigh.

Once I get myself situated, I reach for the towels, pulling a handful out of the tin.

I grip her hips and spin her around before I drop to my knees and carefully clean her up.

When I glance up, she’s smiling down at me, and the sight almost has me dipping my head between her legs to clean her up with my tongue, but based on the cheers happening beyond the door, Stetson and Rylie must have just finished their song.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” I say once I stand, tossing the towels in the trash as I reach for her hand. “We better get out there before they come looking for us.”

“You go first,” she tells me, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I need to put myself back together.”

I flash her a wink before I bend down and pick up my hat, putting it back on. “As long as I can make a mess of you again later.”

“I’m counting on it.”