Page 33 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

Even though I didn’t get my pre-ride pep talk from Faith, it’s a relatively good one.

Doze You Down isn’t as aggressive tonight as his rating would suggest, which gets me a few points shy of a perfect score.

And since Kai ended up with a perfect ride despite his earlier concerns, I’m still trailing behind him by only thirteen points.

Watching him come back and find Georgia—the way she leapt into his arms and kissed him without reservation—was somewhat disconcerting.

The pang I felt in my gut was one I wasn’t used to.

A desperation to have what someone else has.

And based on the look Faith gives me when I find her half an hour later leaving the media room, I’m going to be waiting a long time.

“Hey there, Sweetheart,” I say, flashing her my best smile. “Want to grab dinner? A bunch of us are going out.”

“Not a chance,” she replies, hiking her bag up on her shoulder before crossing her arms over her chest. “Sorry, Pretty Boy.”

Faith turns and starts to make her way toward the exit, so I run after her. “Wait, hold up. What’s going on?”

“I think we need to redefine what this is.” She doesn’t sound upset or angry—rather, she sounds resigned. Defeated. “The lines I told myself I wouldn’t cross are starting to blur and I can’t let that happen.”

“Sweetheart—”

“No, Jesse.” She lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I won’t let you sway me on this. We need to go back to what this was: just sex.

The flowers and the notes and the sweet gestures are confusing me and I don’t like feeling this way.

If that’s not okay with you, if you can’t cut back on, I don’t know, being you, then please let me know and we can stop this.

Otherwise, I’ll be in our room if you’re willing to get back to our regularly scheduled programming. You’re welcome to come join me.”

I don’t bother trying to stop her as she sidesteps me and continues her walk down the hallway, but I watch as she goes.

On the positive side, she didn’t lash out.

She didn’t yell and scream at me like I had almost expected.

She’s always gone on the defensive whenever something—well, me—bothered her.

And honestly? I would almost rather have that than the resigned version of her I just got.

For a split second, I find myself wondering if I can do it.

If I can cut back and be satisfied with just sex.

If I’m able to put my growing feelings aside and forget what I want, just so I can have a fraction of her.

Is that really fair to me? To feel like a doormat just waiting for her to need me?

Maybe Wyatt’s right and I need to start putting some space between us for the sake of my sanity. For my own protection.

But as Faith is about to round the corner and slip out of the building, she hesitates.

Glancing at me over her shoulder, she gives me a sad yet hopeful smile that has my heart stuttering.

And as I look at her, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll take whatever pieces she’s willing to give me—my heart be damned.

The second we’re in our room, it’s a flurry of rough kisses, hair pulling, and clothes being ripped off. There’s a desperation to Faith’s movements that are new, ones I haven’t witnessed before that give me momentary pause—just not long enough to stop what we’re doing.

If sex is all she wants from me, then I’m going to make it the best sex she’s ever had.

“Close your eyes,” I demand as we break apart.

Faith does as she’s told, standing in the middle of the room with her eyes shut.

I walk over to my discarded pants near the bed and reach into the back pocket—which still has her initials embroidered on them—pulling out the two bandanas I had gotten at the vendor fair.

They were intended for my younger sister, but I knew they had better uses once we started this friends-with-benefits arrangement.

I move to stand behind her, dipping my head to place a few soft kisses to her neck.

Her breath hitches as I reach for one of her wrists and pull it behind her back, wrapping the bandana around it before I grab her other one and do the same, and tie them together.

She tries to pull her hands apart, but they don’t budge, and I smile, satisfied.

“Tell me, Sweetheart,” I say softly as I turn her toward me, my grin growing when I realize her eyes are still closed. “Are you ready to bend completely to my will?”

She nods, panting softly. “Words, baby. I need your words.”

“Yes,” she breathes, and I notice her rubbing her thighs together.

“Good.”

Grabbing the second bandana, I tie it around her eyes, securing it behind her head with a gentle knot.

I take a step back and admire her—hands tied behind her back resting above her gorgeous, firm and plump ass.

She lets out a whimper, her mouth hanging open slightly, and I know if I don’t make a move soon, I’ll be aching for her, too.

“Take a few steps backward,” I demand, not leaving any room for argument.

She does as she’s told until she hits the bed.

Closing the gap between us, I give her chest a gentle push so she falls back onto the bed, her legs hanging off the edge and her hands pinned beneath her.

“Spread your legs.” She bites her lips as she obliges.

“God, look at that pretty pussy. Glistening and ready for me. Tell me, Sweetheart, are you desperate for my touch?”

I step between her legs and run my middle finger along her folds, not dipping between them just yet.

She begins to writhe on the bed, attempting to get me closer, and I can’t help it as I chuckle.

“You are, aren’t you? What do you want, Faith?

My fingers?” I finally dip between her folds, rubbing her clit before I slip two fingers inside her.

Her back arches as she gasps, but I quickly remove them as I drop to my knees.

“My tongue?” I lick her from bottom to top, stopping to suck on her clit which makes her moan.

I’m back on my feet fisting my cock as I line it up with her entrance. “Or my dick?”

“I want your cock,” she tells me, and her words cause me to groan and tip my head back. This woman is going to be the death of me. “I want you to fill my pussy. Please, Jesse.” Yup, definitely going to be the death of me.

I slide into her slowly, her walls pulsing around me as I push my way into her tight cunt.

We both groan at the feeling, her arousal coating me as I begin to move my hips.

I surge forward, burying myself inside her in my entirety, and she digs the back of her head into the mattress as she arches some more and begins to writhe on the bed.

Grabbing her legs, I hook them around the back of her knees before I plant my hands on the bed, pinning her knees to her chest. The new angle allows me to sink even deeper into her, and I have to stop my movements for a moment so I don’t come on the spot.

“That feels so good,” she moans.

“You feel like heaven, Sweetheart,” I say as I press a kiss between her breasts and start moving my hips again. “It’s like your cunt was made for me.”

Honestly, it feels like Faith in general was made for me.

It feels like we balance each other out in a way.

Like her driven and calm demeanor was meant to tame my wild and outgoing one.

That my humor and outlook on life was supposed to help bring her out of her shell.

We’re opposites in so many ways, not aligning on much of anything, but I think that’s why I’ve been so drawn to her.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think a woman like Faith would be interested in a man like me.

As cliche as it sounds, the idea of a city girl like her, one with an esteemed career, falling into bed with a wild city boy bull rider like me is the kind of thing that just doesn’t happen—at least not to me.

She said she doesn’t like that I make her feel, and truth be told, I’m not liking how she’s making me feel, either. At the end of the day, this is the only way I can have her: pliant and wet and needy, waiting to be fucked before we go back to our rooms and act like it never happened the next day.

And I’m the idiot lapping it up like a starved dog.

A starved dog who wants people to see that she lets me claim her in this way. That she wants me.

I pull out of her fully and stand, her feet falling back to the floor as she gasps in frustration. Grabbing her throat, I pull her up so she’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, my lips hovering over hers. “Come with me, Sweetheart.”

She stands in front of me, slightly wobbly on her legs, so I grab her arm and walk her over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out at the city.

Quickly swinging her around, I press her front to the glass and she hisses at the contact, the window cold against her bare skin.

Her breath begins to fog the glass as I rest my face in the crook of her neck, kissing her neck.

My hands find their way to her hips and pull her ass against my dick before I rest a hand between her shoulder blades and have her bend down and lean against the glass.

“I want everyone to watch as you come undone for me,” I whisper into her ear, slipping the blindfold off so she can see what I see. “I want everyone down there to see how well you take my cock. How you beg and how desperate you are for my dick to fill your perfect cunt.”

I don’t give her a chance to get ready. With my tip already against her entrance, I thrust forward, and she stumbles forward slightly.

I keep one hand between her shoulder blades and the other grabs the bandana keeping her wrists tied together.

I’m slamming into her as her loud moans fill the room, my frustration over not having her completely driving the desperate, hard thrust of my hips.

The thought of someone else having her like this when the season is over sends me into a frenzy.

A flood of anger rushes through me—anger at myself, anger with her, anger at the world for giving me such a perfect woman but keeping her just out of arm's reach.

What kind of cruel joke is the universe playing on me?

What did I do in my past life to deserve this?

I slide the hand between her shoulder blades up into her hair, wrapping it around my wrist and giving it a tug.

She arches up so her back is now against my front and I force her to take a couple of steps forward so she’s flush against the glass.

The reflection of us in the glass has me slowing down for a moment.

The way we look, both of us hot and flush and almost satisfied, overwhelms my senses. It kills me how good we look together.

“I’m going to come,” she pants, her breath fogging the glass as her eyes fall shut, her breathing coming out heavier as her legs begin to quiver.

“Then come for me, baby,” I groan into her ear, taking her lobe between my teeth as I remove my hand from her hair and slip it around her throat, giving it a squeeze. “Show them how beautiful you are when you come all over my cock.”

Her knees give out as her orgasm rips through her, and I quickly loop my arm around her waist to keep her upright.

Our sweat mingles together as I continue to pound into her, drawing out her orgasm as I chase mine.

My release comes a few seconds later, a grunt leaving my lips as I spill into her.

I blink a few times, spots dotting my vision as I come down from my orgasm high.

Slowly pulling out of her, I make sure to keep an arm around her as she regains her balance.

With the bandana now off her wrists, she turns around to look at me.

There’s a satiated smile on her lips, that beautiful post-orgasm glaze in her beautiful blue eyes.

It’s a sight I wish I could capture in my memory forever.

I wordlessly turn and start collecting my clothes off the floor, getting redressed before I can say something I regret.

That disappointment and frustration are back rearing their ugly heads.

I know I said I’d take her in whatever shape or form I could have her, but it’s killing me to know that she’s just out of reach.

Just as I finish putting on my pants and head for the door, I hear Faith cough softly behind me.

“Where are you going?”

It’s an innocent question, but one that has my anger growing uncontrollably. She’s the one who wanted this. She said just sex, and I’m pretty sure staying the night is part of the lines blurring thing she was talking about earlier. She wanted boundaries, so I’ll give her boundaries.

I don’t bother turning around when I say, “I’ll crash with Kai tonight. This is what you wanted, right? I’m just honoring your wishes.”

And I’m out the door before she can ask me to stay.