Page 47 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

BILLINGS

riding the bull and the cowboy

If there’s one thing he should know about me by now, it’s that I never back down from a challenge—especially one that promises a very, very satisfying reward.

“Promise?” My voice is sultry, a heated, desperate edge to it I’m unable to hide.

I see him visibly swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement, a raging wildfire in his gaze. “I promise.”

Sashaying away, I walk along the circle formed around the bull and make my way up to the guy standing at the controls.

I give him a nod, which he returns, holding out a hand to help me climb over the inflatable edge.

Everyone starts cheering as I clumsily make my way to the bull, trying my best to look at least a little bit competent as I grab the pummel and push myself up with the balls of my feet to climb on.

Once I’m seated comfortably, I look over at the guy and give him a nod before finding Jesse in the crowd.

He’s got his phone out, presumably recording me, and gives me a thumbs up just as the bull starts to move.

It starts slow, tilting forward and spinning in a half circle, rocking back and forth before spinning again.

I recall everything I’ve seen the guys do during their rides—clench my thighs, keep one hand tightly on the pummel, one arm up in the air to help my balance.

Lean the opposite way that the bull is to stay on longer, but lean into the turn so you don’t go flying off.

And everything I’ve learned pays off because even as it picks up pace, twisting faster and bucking harder, I stay on in what feels almost effortless.

On the next spin, I risk a glance up, and my focus immediately falls on Jesse.

His phone is now angled downwards, his attention fixed on me with his jaw open slightly, and the sight only gives me more confidence.

I’m not sure how long I stay on before it whips in a full circle and sends me tumbling off, but the crowd erupts as I hit the inflatable, bouncing slightly with laughter falling off my lips.

The guy controlling the bull leans over and holds out a hand, helping me to my feet and back out of the makeshift ring.

Jesse is there waiting for me, a heated look in his gaze as he grabs my hand and pulls me through the throng of people, finding a more quiet and secluded corner.

He turns us and pushes me so my back is against the wall, one hand pressed against the wall next to my head, the other on my hip, toying with the belt loop of my jeans. “You looked so goddamn sexy on that bull, baby.”

“I learned from the best.” Jesse groans, dropping his forehead to my shoulder and pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. I bite my lip, trying to keep the humor out of my voice as I say, “Kai really is a great example.”

“You’re not allowed to say another man’s name when you’ve got me feeling like this,” he breathes, a tightness in his voice as he grabs my hand and presses it against the front of his jeans.

My breath stutters as I find him fully hard.

“This is what you do to me, Faith. You turn me on with the simplest of fucking tasks and it’s starting to become a problem. ”

The feeling is mutual. If he’s not turning me on, he’s making me swoon, and it’s becoming an issue. The range of emotions that this man makes me feel should be studied by professionals because I certainly can’t understand them. How one person can make another feel everything is beyond me.

I pull my hand away and reach for the one that’s back on my hip, slipping under his other arm to drag him down the hallway toward the back exit that I’m sure the bartenders take to get to their vehicles.

We emerge into a dark alleyway that’s illuminated with only one purplish light above the door.

The second the door closes behind us, I’m pushing Jesse against the wall, my hands bracing his shoulders as I crash my lips to his.

There’s been an unexplainable charged energy between us all day, one I really wish I could put into words.

I first noticed it this morning when his mother and I were packing up the cooler with all the things she insisted I take with me.

He had this look in his eye, a gentle smile on his face, and I wanted nothing more than to climb into his head at that moment to know what he was thinking.

Then I felt it in the car. It was such a normal, relaxed, and fun interaction, one I could see us repeating for a very long time if things were different.

And now here we are. The second he stepped onto the dance floor, the energy became sexually charged, and I’ve been unable to tap it down.

I want Jesse Hayes, and I won’t deny myself what I want.

His kisses are desperate and frantic, his hands cupping my cheeks as he works his tongue past my lips and swirls it around mine. Teeth are clashing and hands are grasping, both of us trying to pull each other impossibly closer. If I could crawl into his skin, I would.

His hands slip behind my neck, and one of them fists my hair, yanking down so my head tips back. He attacks my neck, kissing and biting his way across the column of my throat and working his way up to my ear, taking my lobe between his teeth. I moan, completely lost in the feeling he gives me.

But I want more.

My hands find his belt and begin to fumble with his belt buckle, prying it open before I unbutton his jeans. His right hand is suddenly grabbing mine, stopping my movements as he pulls back and looks at me with lust-filled eyes.

“Are you sure about this, Sweetheart?” He glances down to the left where the alleyway kicks into the street about fifty feet away. “What if someone sees us?”

“Then we’ll give them a show.”

His eyes flare before he turns us around, pinning me against the wall as he works to unbuckle my jeans, slipping a hand inside and working his fingers beneath my underwear.

He finds my clit instantly, and I have to bite my lip to stop from moaning too loudly.

I’m already dripping, desperate for him to give me something, anything.

Jesse pushes gently against my bud and rotates his finger, and my hand grips his bicep, my nails digging into his skin.

“God, you’re so wet, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against mine. “So wet for and because of me.”

Before I can brace myself, two of his fingers slip into my pussy, my walls clenching as my head falls back against the brick wall, a loud moan working its way up my throat before I can stop it.

His free hand cups my mouth, muffling the sounds that slip past my lips as he hooks his fingers and works them in and out of me at a pace that has my knees growing weak.

My eyes fall closed when he hits that spot inside me that has stars appearing on the backs of my lids and my toes curling.

I’m whimpering, my hips starting to move as I chase my climax, but he removes his fingers before I can find it.

His hand falls away, and I tilt my head back down, my eyes falling open.

I’m about to pout, to beg for more, when my gaze drifts downward to watch him pull himself out of his jeans.

I can see the bead of precum glistening on his tip, and the sight has me wanting to bend over and taste it for myself.

I watch unabashedly as he grips his cock and begins to pump himself slowly, his eyes on me.

When I reconnect our gazes, he dips down and presses a quick kiss to my lips.

“Are you ready to be fucked, Sweetheart?” A pathetic whimper escapes me, and all I can do is nod, all words eluding me. “Spit on it.”

Those three words almost make me come on the spot, a shockwave running through me.

I keep my eyes on his as I bend over, gathering saliva in my mouth before I let it fall past my lips, watching as he stares at me with what can only be described as fascination.

He gathers it in his hand and coats his dick as I stand upright, and he’s turning me around so my chest and cheek are pressed against the brick.

He pulls my jeans and thong down so they’re around my knees before he pushes some of the hair away from my neck and places a kiss there.

“Try and be quiet for me, baby,” he whispers in my ear, pushing the head of his cock against my entrance. “Your moans and screams are only for my ears to hear.”

He thrusts into me, and a groan escapes both of us as I clench around him.

His forehead falls to my shoulder as I brace my hands on the cold brick wall, nails digging into the material in a desperate attempt to hold on to something.

He grips my hips as he pulls out before sliding back in again, this time sliding in so he’s to the hilt, and I swear this angle—with him pressed against my back and my legs pressed together—brings a whole new feel of ecstasy that I’ve never experienced before.

Jesse begins to rock his hips at a frantic pace, one hand wrapping around to grip my throat as he holds me flush against him, the other on my hip.

I grab both of his wrists, the feeling alone sending me rushing toward sweet release.

I’m vaguely aware of the sound of people walking on the street, but I’m too wrapped up in the feeling he’s giving me to care.

It’d take a meteor to drag me out of this moment.

“You feel so fucking good, Sweetheart,” he groans into my ear, his breathing coming out quicker much like my own. “This pussy was made for me.” His thrusts become a little harder and slightly sloppy, letting me know he’s near his own orgasm. “Say it.”

“My pussy was made for you,” I reply instantly, another moan filling the space between us.

“It’s mine,” he tells me, his voice suddenly strained. “Say it, Faith.”

I’m so close to my climax, desperate for just a little bit more to send me over the edge. “It’s yours, Jesse. My pussy is yours.”

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

His next thrust hits me at the perfect angle, and a strangled cry leaves me as my legs begin to shake, my orgasm tearing through me.

The hand he had on my hip wraps around my waist, holding me upright as he continues to slam into me at a punishing pace.

He’s drawing out my climax in a way that has me seeing stars, but I still find the strength to throw my head back against his shoulder, wrap a hand around his head, and fist his hair and say, “Come for me, Pretty Boy. Fill me, claim me. Prove I’m yours. ”

The moan that slips out of him is one I’ve never heard before, and had I heard it earlier, that probably would’ve been all I needed to reach my own release.

His hips still as his dick twitches, and I can feel his cum leaking out of me.

He’s panting into my neck, placing soft kisses there as his hand falls away from my throat.

He slides out of me and takes a step back, and I don’t even have a chance to step away from the wall and turn around when I feel something wiping against me.

“It’s just Kleenex,” he informs me, answering my silent question. “It was all I had in my pocket.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my cheeks flushing briefly. You’d think he hadn’t ever cleaned me up before post-sex with the way it’s making me feel.

Once he’s done, he helps me pull my underwear and jeans back up, spinning me around so he can button them for me.

He’s stuffing himself back in his jeans a moment later, turning to toss the Kleenex into the dumpster about twenty feet away from us.

When he’s back in front of me, his hands land on my hips, and my arms wrap around his neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I can’t believe we just had sex in the alleyway,” he says with a quiet laugh.

“Me neither,” I agree, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But I think I’d do it again. We should probably give this place a five-star rating on Google now or something.”

This time, his laugh echoes throughout the alleyway. “Five stars: would fuck here again.”

“I think that’d be the quickest way to lose your review privileges.”

“Worth it.”