Page 20 of Ride Me Reckless (Millionaire Cowboys of Lucky Ranch #1)

Chapter Twenty

Where We Belong

Colt

I heard her before I saw her.

A soft rustle of a drawer sliding open. The metallic clink of silverware being rearranged. The quiet hum she didn’t even realize she was making—that same low, distracted melody she used to sing under her breath when she was organizing something or lost in thought.

God, I’d missed that sound.

I leaned against the hallway wall for a second, letting it wash over me. It didn’t take much to imagine her in there—barefoot, sleeves pushed up, brows furrowed because I’d committed some kind of unholy sin by putting the spoons where the forks belonged.

I smiled to myself.

Of course, she couldn’t resist making this place hers. That was the whole damn point.

But it was more than the sound of her voice or the rhythm of drawers sliding open. It was something else. Something hotter. Deeper.

The kind of heat that stirred low in my gut when I thought about her, pregnant with my child, standing in my kitchen like she’d never left. She was glowing in a way I hadn’t known I needed to see again.

And damn if I didn’t want to feel her beneath me.

I pushed off the wall and headed toward the kitchen.

Tessa stood at the counter, facing away from me. The soft blue top she had worn all day hugged her curves as if it had been made just for her. She was muttering under her breath as she sorted forks from knives. Didn’t hear me come in.

I stepped behind her, swept her hair off her neck, and leaned in.

Her skin was warm where I kissed her, right beneath her ear.

She gasped softly. “Colt.”

“Keep workin’,” I murmured, voice low.

She started to turn, but I placed a hand gently on her hip. “Don’t stop.”

I reached around her and unbuttoned her jeans, the fabric giving way easily beneath my fingers. Her breath caught when I slipped my hand beneath the waistband, sliding under her panties until I reached her most sensitive spot.

As I touched her, I could feel the tension leave her body, replaced by something softer—something needier. She leaned forward slightly, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as I pleasured her, slow and steady.

Her groan hit me like a jolt.

“God,” she breathed. “Now that I’m pregnant, everything’s more sensitive. I wasn’t expecting…”

I didn’t let her finish. I dropped to my knees just long enough to pull her jeans the rest of the way off. Then I stood, kissed her ass cheek, and boosted her onto the counter.

She reached for me, breathless, pulling me closer.

But I wasn’t done re-discovering her.

I slipped her blouse over her head, letting my hands explore the soft curve of her waist and the new fullness of her breasts beneath her bra.

“You okay?” I asked, thumb tracing the edge of the fabric.

She nodded quickly. “Better than okay. I just…”

“You want to see if the sensitivity thing applies here, too?” I teased gently, already assuming the answer.

I unclasped her bra with a knowing smile, slid the straps down her arms, and let it fall.

Then I took my time.

With my tongue and my fingers, I pleasured every new inch of her. Every soft gasp. Every sharp breath told me she was already close.

Her skin was like silk beneath my touch, and I reveled in the way her body responded to each gentle caress and teasing flick of my tongue. Her back arched, her fingers tangled in my hair, urging me on. Her moans were symphonies of need, echoing in the intimate space we shared.

I traced patterns down her stomach, feeling the tremors that rippled through her as I explored further.

Her thighs quivered under my touch, parting willingly as I coaxed every ounce of desire to the surface.

Her intoxicating and sweet scent filled the air, mingling with the heat of our shared breaths.

By the time she came apart beneath me, head thrown back, hand fisting in my shirt, I was the one breathless. The sight of her unraveling, the raw vulnerability, and the uninhibited passion was a vision I wanted to capture forever.

And I still hadn’t had nearly enough. Each moment promised more to come, each touch a vow to enjoy every inch of her until we were both lost in the depths of our desire.

Her breathing was ragged as I trailed kisses back up her neck, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer as if she feared I might vanish.

“You good?” I murmured, brushing a sweat-damp strand from her face.

Her cheeks were flushed, her skin glowing like heated bronze, eyes half-lidded with desire—and something softer, deeper.

She nodded, lips parting. “I want more,” she whispered, voice thick with need.

“Yeah?” My own voice came out husky, as if I hadn’t spoken in hours.“You sure?—”

She silenced me with a feather-light kiss. “Don’t ask. Just take me.”

That was invitation enough. One arm slid under her thighs, the other cradled her back, and I carefully lifted her from the countertop. She laughed, breathless and bright, her fingertips tracing my collarbone. “Colt,” she said, pressing a hand to my chest. “Your back?—”

“My back is fine.” I carried her down the hallway in a few effortless strides. “I’d carry you across the world.”

Her smile sent a jolt through me—this was more than lust. More than reuniting when she returned to Lovelace. It was the ache I’d carried since the moment she’d walked away so many years ago.

In the bedroom, I laid her gently on the new quilt.

Soft afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden haze over every curve of her body.

She looked like my angel, as though she belonged to a dream I’d almost forgotten how to imagine.

Real or not, I wanted her more desperately than the air I breathed.

She reached up, tugging me down until our mouths met, and in an instant, my clothes were shed aside—slow, deliberate, fierce.

Her hands roamed my shoulders and chest, mapping every ridge and scar, while my lips explored the valley of her collarbones, the hollow behind her ear, and finally the peaks of her breasts.

She arched into me, nipples taut under my tongue, a low moan vibrating through her body.

I pressed my fingers between her folds again, feeling how slick she was, how ready, how needy. With one finger, then two, I teased her gently, curling inside her until she shuddered beneath me. She gasped, and I lifted my head to watch her chest rise and fall, her eyes shining.

“I love the way you feel,” I murmured, sliding closer until only the tip of me brushed against her wetness.

Then I sank in fully, slowly, filling her with every inch.

She cried out my name, wrapping her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper.

Her walls clamped around me, hot and welcoming, and I felt like we were two halves finally made whole.

We moved in tandem—rocking, thrusting, matching each other’s rhythm.

Her nails scraped down my back, leaving a trail of fire.

My hands gripped her hips, guiding, lifting, holding her close.

The fragrance of her hair, the taste of her skin, the soft symphony of our mingled breaths and moans drove me mad with love for her.

Tessa shifted beneath me, pressing her thighs tighter, rolling her hips up to meet each of my strokes. I leaned forward, kissing her open-mouthed, tongue dancing with hers, tasting her pleasure and giving it back. Her answers were urgent, needy, sweet—each whisper of “Colt” like a benediction.

I slid my hand lower, curling my fingers around her bud, circling it in slow, precise strokes.

Her hips bucked, her back arched, and she cried out again, louder this time, begging for more.

I matched her urgency, increasing speed, letting every motion be an affirmation of how deeply I cared, how much I’d missed our intimacy.

Her arms coiled around me, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. With one final, slow plunge, my release washed over us, and I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

We stayed like that, entwined, hearts pounding in perfect sync. She stroked my hair, and I kissed her ear tenderly. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice raw and emotional.

“I love you, too,” I replied, and the words felt as sacred as a vow.

Over and over we repeated them, each time more certain, more alive. In that moment, it wasn’t just a reunion. It was a new beginning—two souls rediscovering each other, forging a bond far stronger than what had been broken.

I knew, without a doubt, this was something worth keeping forever.

We lay tangled together on the bed afterward, limbs still warm, hearts still racing, skin damp from the weight of everything we’d just shared. Her head rested on my chest, one leg hooked over mine, fingers tracing lazy circles near my ribs like she memorized my shape again.

The room was quiet except for our breathing and the hum of the ceiling fan above. The sky outside had turned indigo, the first stars blinking into view. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called low and lonely, but in this room, everything felt full.

Complete.

She shifted slightly, lifting her head just enough to look at me.

“Do you ever think about baby names?” she asked softly.

I smiled, brushing her hair off her cheek. “You mean besides Colt Junior?”

She laughed, soft and surprised, and it made my chest feel like it might split in two.

“Try again,” she said, swatting my side.

“All right, all right. Something strong, maybe a little classic for a boy. And something wild but sweet for a girl.”

“Got anything better than Colt Junior, cowboy?”

I paused, then gave her a lazy grin. “We’ve got time. No rush.”

She nodded, eyes drifting shut again, her palm flattening over my chest.

“I don’t want to know,” I added quietly.

She blinked up at me. “Know what?”

“The gender. I want it to be a surprise. I want to look down the second they’re born and just… find out.”

There was a pause, and then she smiled again, softer this time. “Me too.”

I tightened my arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Outside, the moon was climbing higher, silvering the edge of the mountains in the distance. The world was settling into its quiet rhythm, and so were we—two people who’d finally found their way back to the place they were always meant to be.

Sleep finally pulled us under. We were wrapped in each other, in a bed that Tessa was already making her own.

And I was ready to welcome what the morning might bring for the first time in years.