Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I bite down on the inside of my cheek, needing the pain to keep from smiling. My girl’s worried about me. I hung up my spurs and chaps. No more bulls for me, not the real ones, anyway, but it’s nice to see that she cares.
“I’m right here,” I tell her, sliding my arm around her waist. “Now, do you want to try it or not?”
“You go first. I want to watch.”
I smile. “Okay, sweets. Watch and learn.” I stalk over to the bull, hit the power switch, and grab the remote. I climb onto the bull with practiced ease and grip the bull rope. I glance over at Baylor, and she’s chewing on her bottom lip again, only this time, it appears to be less worry and more desire, which has my cock thickening in my sweats. Not exactly comfortable for what I’m about to do.
Hitting the remote, I go at the lowest speed, which is child’s play for me, but I want her to see how fast she’ll be moving. I ride it out for far longer than eight seconds, more like thirty, before I hit Stop on the remote and let go of the bull rope.
“Well?” I ask her. “You ready to try it?”
“I don’t know,” she says, still unsure.
“Come here, Bay. I’ll ride with you. We’ll take it slow. You saw how fast I was spinning.”
“Is it safe for us to be on there at the same time?”
I hold my grin. “It’s safe, or I never would have suggested it. Come on, Moran, what are you afraid of?”
“Falling off and breaking an arm or a leg or both.”
“It’s no different from riding a horse,” I remind her.
“Buckwheat doesn’t try to buck me off,” she sasses.
“Come on. I promise you, it’ll be fine.”
“Fine, but if I break something, you have to be my personal nurse until I heal.”
“Baby, that’s not the threat that you think it is.” I laugh as I offer her my hand and help her up. “Relax,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her. She does, but she immediately stiffens, and I know why. “You’re here, in my space, riding my bull, baby. Fuck, Baylor, all you have to do is breathe, and I’m hard for you. Just ignore it.”
“What do I do?” she asks, swallowing hard.
“Hold on to the rope.” I keep my voice steady and calm. “Place your hand next to mine. My arms are around you, Bay. I won’t let you fall.” I’m really surprised she’s this worried about falling when she’s been riding horses her entire life.
I think it’s more than just the bull. That’s not what’s making her nervous. It’s me, and the way she feels about me. She’s fighting our connection when it’s inevitable.
But this? Me this close? My hands on her, my voice in her ear, the way she fits back against me like she was meant to be there. The way her ass is nestled against my hard cock. That’s what makes her nervous. She wants me, and she’s fighting it. This has nothing to do with the mechanical bull or falling off.
I tighten my hold just slightly—not enough to startle her, just enough to remind her I’m here—when the machine gives a low whir beneath us. “You’re overthinking it,” I murmur. “Don’t fight it. Just move with it. Let your body relax and follow the motion of the bull.”
Her head tilts a fraction, leaning against my shoulder. She knows I’m not just talking about the ride.
“I’m not—” she starts, but the bull shifts under us, a slow, testing roll. Her body tenses instantly, shoulders pulling tight, fingers gripping the rope harder.
“Hey,” I say softly, closer now, my lips near her ear. “Relax. Feel it first. Let it show you what it’s going to do.”
She shifts slightly, and my cock throbs, begging for the barrier between us to be removed. Even through two layers of clothing, my reaction to her can’t be masked. Not when she’s sitting this close.
“Like this.” I lean into the turn, encouraging her to follow the motion instead of resisting it. My hand at her waist presses just enough to remind her that I’ve got her. She relaxes further. “See? You don’t fight it. You go with it. Good girl,” I praise, and can hear her suck in an audible breath. My girl likes praise. Good to know.
Her body yields just a little more, following the slow motion of the bull. She’s getting the hang of it.
“That’s it,” I say, quieter now, a note of approval slipping through before I can stop it. “You’re riding like a pro, baby,” I tell her.
She lets out a shaky laugh, somewhere between nerves and something else entirely. “This isn’t so bad, but it’s also really slow. I don’t think I could do faster.”
I smile against her shoulder, though she can’t see it. “You could. I know you could.”