Her lips move to mine, not moving to kiss me, as her breath ghosts over my parted mouth. ‘Hold on, cowboy,” she coos, the only warning she gives me before she starts bouncing, faster this time. Her tight heat swallowing me whole with every slam against me, moving her hips up rapidly until I can feel her tightness trying to suck me back in at the tip. She speeds up even further, her wetness running from our joined bodies down my shaft. There is nothing I can do but hold her hips tight while she shows me what it’s like to be well and truly fucked.
When she drops one last time, squeezing my cock in a vice grip, I’m powerless to hold back. My back flies off the ground, hands off her hips, and I groan out my release while kissing her roughly. With each pulse of my cock, she whimpers in return, swiveling her hips while riding out her own orgasm.
“Can we do that again?” she whispers against my lips, after our movements still to just a slight rustling.
I fall back, pulling her with me, and roar with laughter.
“Darlin’, you just sucked me dry with your tight pussy. I’m gonna need to rest a bit before I can fuck you properly and show you how much I loved that ride.”
She smirks and then to my utter shock throws her head up to the sky and starts singing Big & Rich’s “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy).”
One Month Later
“Can I ask you something?”
Leighton looks over, stopping her puttering around the kitchen. “Of course you can.” She smiles, but it looks worried.
It’s been a month since we signed the deed for the land. Things are moving quickly, and construction is slated to start next month. As for Leighton, she won a big award for the Texas State Fair in Dallas the week after we signed the deed, and she hasn’t slowed down since. Her Taste a Cowboy pie, some mix of cream, fruits, and bacon, of all things, won best tasting. She’s been doing a few different county fairs since, not that her business needs to hype, but I know it’s something her mama used to love, so she does them for her.
We’ve been so busy that the time we do have together is usually stolen in between our schedules and sleeping. Not that I’m complaining; we’ve settled into our new lives together effortlessly. There isn’t a second that passes Leigh doesn’t make sure I know how much she loves me. Even if it’s just a shy smile before driving to the PieHole. I might not be taking her out on extravagant dates, but I make sure she knows that her love is returned in spades.
Even with all that, though, I can’t help but feel like there is just one piece left in a puzzle I’ve been working on for almost thirty years. The last one needed to fill that tiny empty spot I’ve never been able to satisfy.
“Why did you give so much of yourself to Buford?”
Shock flashes, clearly not expecting me to ask that. “What do you mean?” she hedges, walking around the island to sit at the kitchen table next to me.
“Clay told me you were there after he got sick, that you were there when he passed. I know that must not have been easy for you, with the PieHole and all, stopping your life to take care of him.”
She reaches out and takes my hand, pulling it to her lap while shifting her chair so that we’re right next to each other. I look up from the cat/beast I had been petting and give her my attention.
“You have to understand, Maverick, I didn’t know everything that was behind you leaving. I knew Buford was a big part of it, but in my head he was still your father. When he got sick, all I could think of was what if that was you? What if you were out there on the road, sick and unable to care for yourself? No matter how much I wanted to hate him for pushing you away, even before I knew the magnitude of it, I looked at him, and I saw the man I was missing more and more as time passed.”
I nod, understandingly, the heartbreaking reality that she was there and using him to replace me, in a way. “Do you think it’s wrong that I can’t forgive him?”
She’s silent while she searches my face, whether it’s so she can attempt to see where I’m headed with my questions or to choose her words carefully, but with a small shake of her head she breaks the silence. “I don’t, honey. I know that it’s been drilled in our heads that it’s best to forgive, but some sins can’t be washed away. What Buford did to you was wrong, so wrong. Your whole life was changed because of one hateful man. I’ve had my own issues with the forgiveness I had so easily given him after you told me everything, but in the end, I know I can’t change anything by hating a dead man. I think what you really need to ask yourself is if holding on to all of that is worth the price you’re paying.”
Confusion pulls my lips into a frown, my brows wrinkled, and I feel myself start to protest before I even know what I’m going to say.
“Let me finish,” she says, her free hand coming up to smooth the skin between my eyebrows. “You trusted me with the truth of your past, and that is something I will never take for granted. I will hold those truths inside until the day I die, but I think you need to tell Clay and Quinn. They didn’t have it as bad as you, I would never even hint that, but they struggled too. I think you need to be honest with them about your mom, your relationship to Buford, all of it. I’m not saying it will be easy, but to leave it all behind you and forget it all, you have to let it go, and by keeping it bottled up between us, you’re making it impossible to ever leave it behind completely.”
“What good could telling them the truth do?”
“Honey,” she says with a sigh, “Buford was a hateful man, but when he got sick a lot of that hate dissipated. I’m not saying it was gone or that it excused everything he did wrong in his life. Clay might have forgiven him for the past, but he will never forget. He gave Buford his forgiveness, but I think it was more for himself. He had carried a lot of anger around for a long time, and between Buford’s hard hand and your mother leaving him, he doesn’t trust easy. He has so much love to give, but because of the crap he’s holding on to because of his parents, I fear he will never give it to someone lucky enough to have it.”
She looks down, covering the hand she is still holding before lifting it to kiss against my knuckles. Not letting go, but giving me some of her love knowing that this conversation is hard.
“And then Quinn,” she breathes. “My best friend has a heart so big but she keeps it hidden away. I’ve watched her harden herself from the sting of rejection her whole life. She won’t let anyone get close enough to her because she is terrified of feeling that wound again. She used to burn so bright that the sun couldn’t even keep up with her, but all it took was her opening her heart up a few times for that brightness to dim. It’s been a long time since I saw her let anyone in. That fear rides her. She’s damn good at hiding it, but it’s there.”