“Yeah? You don’t talk about him much.”
He pulls me closer. “He died riding bulls. I still plan to win a championship like he did—that’s my goal. But I think if I let myself talk about him too much, I’ll start wondering what the fuck I’m doing getting on a bull who wants to kill me dozens of times every year.”
I suspect it’s more layered than that. I suspect Theo has his own set of daddy issues, has markers to hit to feel worthy of his father’s legacy. Because based on all the internet research I did after I found out about the pregnancy, his dad was one of the best. A legend. One of the first Brazilian riders to really make a mark on the North American circuit.
“Is he why you became a bull rider?”
“Yeah. I was like his shadow. I always wanted to do everything he did.”
“How close are you to making it to the finals this year? After this time off, are you too far behind in points?”
His head tips down as he tries to get a good look at my face. “Tink, why does it sound like you know a thing or two about the WBRF?”
My lips curve up against his chest. “There may have been some Google research performed at one point or another.”
I feel the deep rumble in his chest. “So . . . internet stalking.”
“Research.”
“Right. Sure. That sounds far more academic, way less deranged.”
“I’m not deranged.”
“Is that why you were stalking me from behind the leg press today?”
Oh my god. Cringe.
“Shut up, Theo.”
“Saw a little flash of blonde hair and blue eyes from between all those metal machines. It was adorable. Are we going to call that research too?” I groan against his chest. “Smart, pretty, but not stealthy.”
I straighten. “New rule, you only train people who are less pretty than me.”
His eyes do a dramatic roll. “That’s everyone, Tink. You’ve ruined me. Don’t you get it? I only see you. You’ve got all my attention. Every last bit of it.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You and your snarky one-liners. And the way you’re grumbly in the morning until I bring you a coffee. And that goofy voice you use when you talk to Vivi. How sweet you are under all that professional indifference. I even like it when you stalk me. Makes me feel special.” He winks.
I roll my eyes and try to bite down on a smile. “I’m not sweet.”
“You are. I’ve tasted you. And now I want to again. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
31
Winter
Summer: MORE BABIES!
Willa: Is this in reference to Theo just dragging Winter out of here like a horny caveman?
Summer: Shit. I didn’t mean to put this in the group chat.
Willa: Aww. You guys have a sister chat?
Summer: salute emoji
Sloane: What even is that emoji? It always looks like a dick to the forehead to me.
Willa: Sorry, come again?
Sloane: Or a side profile of Pinocchio.
Summer: Sloane . . . it’s a hand. Saluting. Like YES, SIR!
Sloane: Seriously? I’m looking closer now. salute emoji
Willa: A fucking dick to the face? Pinocchio? There are tiny bumps that show the fingers. Somebody needs to take away your beer.
Sloane: Anyway, I hope Winter is taking a dick to the face right now.
Willa: Way to change the subject.
Sloane: salute emoji
Theo tugs the passenger side door of his truck open, but rather than letting me get in, he pushes ahead and steps up into the truck himself.
“What are you—”
Before I can finish my question, he hauls me up like I weigh nothing, positions me straddling his lap, and slams the truck door.
“What are you—” I try again, fingers already sliding up the back of his neck, tickling the base of his close-cropped hair. But he kisses me, stealing any words or coherent thoughts right out of my mouth.
“There’s no way I’m going to make it home without getting inside you first. This dress has been making me hard all night.”
“You told me to wear something slutty.” I giggle against his lips, going back in for more. “But this is a busy parking lot.”
“And?” His mouth drags down the side of my neck, toward the line of my jaw, while his hands travel under the loose baby doll dress I chose for tonight. It’s flowy with lace details. Each bodice strap ties in a bow at the crest of my shoulders.
It looks really cute with my cowboy boots.
“Someone could see us.”
His hand tugs my panties to the side, stroking me. And I’m already wet.
“Good. Haven’t you figured out I have a thing for that? Go ahead. Get loud.” His mouth works across my collarbones. “I hope someone sees you riding my cock. Screaming my name. I hope they tell everyone. Print it in whatever shitty little newspaper they have in this town. Take out a roadside billboard.”
“Rude.” I huff out a laugh as he tugs down one strap and pulls my nipple into his mouth, licking and circling it. My hips rock when he bites the sensitive peak before pulling the opposite strap down to give both sides equal attention.
He leans back to admire me, breasts bare and heaving. “So fucking pretty.”
And with his eyes on me, I feel beautiful. I don’t wish it was darker. I don’t wish he’d hurry up and shift his eyes somewhere else. I could lie naked in front of him and luxuriate in the way he appreciates my body.
Suddenly, the need to feel him inside me is overwhelming. My hands are at his jeans. His belt. He’s lifting his hips. I’m tugging them down. He’s fisting his length and running the thick head of it through my wet core.
I’m impatient though. With one hand on each of his shoulders, I sink down an inch. He’s notched inside me, and my head falls back in relief.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“So fucking tight.” He doesn’t move, but he groans.
I move down another inch and his hands grip my ass. A light tremor moves through them as he caresses me. “You trying to kill me, Tink?”
I don’t respond, opting to drop my lips to his neck, to kiss him the way he kissed me.
The dip at the base of his throat.
The bump and scar on his collarbone.
Back up to his ear, where I nip at him and then whisper, “No one has ever made me feel so good. Like I don’t need changing or fixing. Like I don’t need saving. Everything is so rushed with us sometimes. I just want to savor you for a minute.”
I kiss his stubble. Beside his mouth. He doesn’t respond, but I don’t give him a chance, because I press my mouth to his in a searing kiss as I lower myself slowly. My hands move over his pecs and shoulders while his roam my back, always returning to squeeze my ass.
He groans into my mouth when I finally drop onto his full length. I feel him swell inside me, filling every bit of space. Like he was made for me.
“Theo.” I nuzzle into his neck, arching my back to push my ass into his grip as I rotate my hips.
“Have you figured out how to make yourself come since that night?”
“Yes.”
Over and over again while I thought of you and the way you made me see stars.
“Show me.” He gathers the skirt of my dress and bunches it at my hips. “Lean back. Play with your pussy and come on my cock. I want to watch you again.”
My entire body flushes with heat, and I don’t hesitate.
The glove compartment isn’t far behind me, and I straighten until I feel it cool and smooth against my back. Theo slouches slightly in the seat to accommodate.
He feels even thicker inside me, stretching me to my limits. A rush of wetness seeps from me, and I drop my hand down, spreading it on us.
I trace a finger over where my skin meets his. Soft and hard. His hips move and I feel him. I feel myself.
The way we fit.
“Fuck, Winter. You have no idea what you do to me.” His eyes glow on me, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.
I move my fingers over the base of his shaft while he fucks me slow and shallow. It’s hot. It’s unhurried. I feel like I’m allowed to explore him. Explore us.
I feel like I have all the time in the world, because I’m suspecting we are doing more than just trying this out.
We’re seeming pretty damn permanent. The sex is new, but learning to need him has been in the making all summer.
I slide my fingers up to my clit and press hard, chin tipped down, while I watch Theo’s hips flex as he slides himself in and out of me. I can’t look away. It’s . . . fucking hot watching him push into my body.
Without shame, I rub my clit in firm circles, using one finger and then two. Then back and forth, more rapidly.
“You like the way you look taking a cock, Winter?”
I don’t even glance at him, still watching his veined length thrusting in a slow, even rhythm. I rub my clit, more frantic now. “I like the way I look taking your cock.”
His hips buck and he hits me deep, shoving me back against the dash. One hand on my inner thigh presses me open wider while the other grips my hip hard.
“Good. Cause it’s the only cock you’re ever going to take.”
Then we both lose it. We’re a tangle of limbs. Curse words. Moans. Whispered names and jerky movements. It all feels like the perfect symphony. The perfect crescendo.
Sweet meets filthy.