Page 3 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

I don’t know what it is about Colton that grates on my nerves. Maybe it’s the fact I can never get a reaction from him. At this point, I just want to see him falter.

“I’m horny.” My voice is a purr as I sprawl out on the couch. “Let’s have sex.”

Colton’s blue eyes clash into mine. Static crackles between us as he watches me. He’s completely still. I’m not sure if he’s even breathing.

Laughter bursts free from my successful strategy. “Oh, that’s what it takes? You’re totally busted, Cowboy.”

The heat in his smolder fizzles into a glare. “Brat.”

I recoil. “Excuse you?”

Colton’s nostrils flare from a heavy exhale. “You’re a spoiled brat, Princess.”

Fire smacks my cheeks. “And you’re a rude asshole.”

He shrugs. “Just doin’ my job.”

My jaw drops. This is the most he’s talked to me in the five years I’ve known him. I’m not sure where to go from here.

“You could be a bit more understanding,” I mutter.

“That’s not what I’m getting paid for.”

“Ohhhhh,” I breathe. “This is all about money. Got it.”

His jaw clenches. “No, this is about keeping you safe.”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“That’s not your decision.” His smug expression sends a hot spike of irritation through me.

My eyes abandon his unwavering focus for the sake of my pride. “It’s probably best if we don’t talk anymore.”

Colton braces his inked arms along the back of the sofa. “I give it two minutes. Max.”

I clamp my lips tight to prove him wrong, but the tickle in my throat is prepared to do the opposite.

This is going to be a long-ass trip.

Once again, I find myself sitting outside of Bianca’s bedroom in our suite.

It’s become a habit since we arrived in Germany last week.

She fucks herself frequently and I’m stuck in the same space with her insatiable appetite.

I didn’t expect her to constantly dangle forbidden fruit in my face.

It’s almost as if she’s torturing me for denying her a quick fuck on the plane.

But something tells me she doesn’t know I’m listening like a creep.

A prickly awareness spreads across my nape when she moans from behind the closed door. She releases another throaty noise, making my cock twitch. It’s an instinctual response at this point. Her show is about to begin, and my dick wants a starring role.

“I’m ready,” Bianca’s breathy tone beckons.

My head thumps against the wood separating us. She whimpers and rustling follows. I bet she’s ramping up for the next level. Her vocals are enthusiastic. Even the toy she uses is loud and unapologetic. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she wants me to hear her.

“Yes, yes!” Her voice teases me through the barrier between us. “That feels so good.”

Arousal pumps hot through my veins. Physical desire is a weakness. A distraction. I don’t allow myself to fall victim to these urges, but Bianca Benson is my exception.

Typically, I can maintain a tight grip on my control even when she’s around.

The hair band on my wrist nears its breaking point when I snap it against my skin.

The sting is useless against her pull. This situation has proven to turn me into a simpering fool.

I find myself in this exact spot night after night, waiting for her performance to hit the climatic peak.

Bianca is unraveling my composure and I’m unable to stop it. Much like now.

My hand rips at my belt, fumbling to undo my jeans in a hurry. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this hard. My cock hurts, and not because I’ve been jerking off more than usual.

Images assault me while I gather precum from the tip, stroking the moisture over myself.

I picture her sprawled out in bed, bare pussy on display.

The vibrator sinks into her easily. There’s minimal resistance.

She’s that turned on. I’m right there with her, pausing only to spit in my palm to glide faster.

It would take a few pumps from her hand to make me blow my load.

A throb pulses through my dick while Bianca mewls.

I envision her thrusting the toy deeper.

Fantasy and reality merge when she whimpers. “Ohhhh, don’t stop. More. Please.”

Desperation coils in my gut, ready to burst. My dream girl is just beyond reach. How easy it would be to reveal my position and join her.

A recognizable buzz tells me she’s upped the speed, getting herself closer.Fuck, she’s testing my limits.

As if hearing my control fraying, her sweet seduction calls out. “I need you.”

That command snaps me out of it.

“Bianca,” I growl.

The vibrations cut off immediately. Silence descends and stretches. It’s quiet enough that I can hear fabric rustling. She’s probably going to bed. That means I should too.

But she pushed me tonight. I need relief or my brain won’t rest. Sleep still won’t come easy, but I’m about to.

My palm resumes pumping a steady pace. The throb in my cock spurs me faster as I stare into the darkness.

I picture Bianca sitting in the oversized armchair facing me.

She watches as I stroke myself, leaning forward to get a better view.

Her big tits nearly spill out of her shirt.

My balls tighten when I imagine tugging a pebbled nipple between my teeth.

Warm tingles spread across my lower back in warning.

I’m close. Bianca’s lush lips pull up in a coy grin.

She wants to see me lose it. That rips a garbled rumble from me, along with spurts of cum.

I bite down on my knuckles as my release coats the other hand.

The third pulse hits my lower stomach and I jolt from the force.

“Fuck, fuck,” I groan into my fist.

“Colton?” Her soft voice slaps me from the fantasy.

My high from the burst of pleasure evaporates instantly, replaced by the shame of being caught. Bianca’s face would be scrunched in disgust to find me in this position. The sticky fluid covering my abs feels dirty. It burns like acid—a careless mistake.

I scramble to my feet, rushing across the living room to my door. This is what I get for surrendering to temptation. The lock clicks shut just as I hear hers open, but she won’t find me loitering again.

Not until Bianca is ready to take all of me.

A fast techno mix blends seamlessly into the final beats of the one currently playing.

The heavy notes pulse into my chest like a living thing.

Shouts roar across the crowd and people begin jumping.

Their excitement is infectious, pumping me full of renewed energy.

This is exactly what I needed. Stress and grief melt away as the electric tempo blasts from the speakers.

The nightlife in Germany doesn’t sleep. Everyone other than Colton has been dancing nonstop for hours.

I’ve lost track of time in this windowless room, which is most definitely on purpose.

It’s safe to assume the sun will be rising when we leave.

Unless the party runs on an endless loop, which is highly possible.

There’s no sign of stopping in this club.

I thrust my arms into the air while swiveling my hips. Sweat drips down my back from the effort. It’s sweltering with so many bodies crammed into such a small space. We’re constantly bouncing off each other like a friendly mosh pit.

A guy leaps in front of me and I stumble backward on my Jimmy Choo wedges. He reaches for my arm to steady me. His touch is gentle, dropping away once I’m stable. Smoke and strobe lights distort my vision, but there’s no denying the man is hot.

There’s a silent apology on his lips while he stops to stare.

I accept his gesture with a grin. His responding smile is paired with a smolder meant to incinerate panties.

My knees get a bit weak. His dark eyes study my face before taking a noticeable dip to admire the rest, but then a massive cockblocker steps between us.

Colton glares at me. He ditched his Stetson for the evening. His light brown hair is tucked under a backward baseball hat. I’m not sure which variety I prefer. Either way, he looks menacing.

I wiggle my fingers, attempting to charm Colton’s surly attitude into submission. His scowl only deepens. Same cycle, different place. It’s laughable.

My humor fades when he swoops in, his exhale breezing across my sweaty skin.

“Don’t even think about it,” he rasps. “You’re not going home with anyone, Princess.”

“Other than you, right?”

His nod is slow and steady. “You won’t leave my sight.”

I fight to trap a whimper after that gravelly command. Instinct suggests I give him sass and ask what happens if I do. His guttural voice sounds like a promise of much more than sharing a suite. Goose bumps break out despite the feverish temperature surrounding us.

My lips brush his ear when I whisper, “I’ll do whatever I want, Cowboy.”

He straightens to give me the full intensity of his stare. I can read his expression like an instruction manual. Just yesterday, he listened to me get myself off. I haven’t told him I know. Was I being loud on purpose? Yes. But then I got embarrassed.

It’s not like I actually want to sleep with him.

Another glance at his towering frame has me reconsidering.

A rough and dirty roll in the hay wouldn’t be bad.

Well, it probably would. I laugh at my own twisted solution of fighting this attraction.

Colton glowers in return. Ugh, forget it. He’d probably be a snooze in the sack.

As if hearing my prediction, his eyes meet mine in a heated exchange.

It feels like a tease caressing my skin and I shiver despite the sweat clinging to me.

More prickles break out along my arms when his gaze dips to trail a droplet of sweat trickling between my breasts.

This skimpy dress is definitely a winner.

Power surges in my veins. I want him to crack.

But Colton’s focus returns to my face. “Ready to leave?”

I laugh, the tune raspy from yelling over the music. “And do what?”

“Rest your back.”