CHAPTER THIRTY
WEST
IT’S BECOME PART OF OUR RHYTHM OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS TO DO NIGHT check together. We work in tandem, her humming an unfamiliar tune softly as she stands on her tippy toes to peek into every stall and me trying not to track her every motion like a man obsessed.
Because I am.
But I’m not sure I want to be. Falling for someone who’s only going to be here for what amounts to a blink of an eye seems like a reckless thing to do.
We both know it. And yet, we don’t acknowledge it. Hell, I even told her I believe everything will be okay. But over the past few days, a sense of dread has set in. Like I can say that all I want, but it doesn’t change the reality of our situation. I can’t manifest everything into existence.
We play house with our blinders firmly in place. I can’t decide if what I’m doing feels like a leap of faith or if I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak down the line.
She’ll record here, and then she’ll be gone. She’ll tour, and she’ll be carted around, appearing on daytime television first thing in the morning before attending high-brow promotional events at night.
And I’ll be here. Breaking horses and looking after my kids. Mia and I agreed we’d never leave while the kids were still small. That we wanted a simple life for them here.
And I still think that’s best. But the weight of knowing we’re not set up to make it is heavy because I’ll be the one who ends up alone again.
It agitates me to feel like I have found someone who fits me so perfectly and to know I can’t keep her—not really. Not the way I want.
I stew on it as we complete the chores. After I flick the lights off and pull
the sliding barn doors shut, she slips her hand into mine.
It’s as we walk past the arena that she unlinks her fingers and moves toward the sand ring. Instead of stopping at the fence line, she dips between the boards and steps onto the other side. Overhead lights cast a gentle glow, and I watch her body sway as she marches into the middle.
“Where you headed, fancy face?” I ask, trailing behind her. I’m on edge, and I want to get home. I want to sink into bed with her. Get lost in her.
“To see what the view is like from in here,” she muses as she spins slowly in place. “I like watching you ride.”
At the fence, I prop my elbows on the top board and observe her. Cut-off shorts, toned legs, and loose crew neck draping off one shoulder.
I swallow when I realize there’s no bra strap in sight. Then my teeth clamp because I don’t want to talk about my work. I want to be home. In bed.
Naked with her.
“I thought you were writing songs.” I’d have to be blind to not to notice her watching me. Sometimes I swear I can feel her gaze roving my skin
without so much as glancing her way.
“Trying to.”
I rake my fingers through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh as I turn and peer over my shoulder toward the main house. “Sky, let’s g —”
“But I usually end up eye fucking you instead. You should see how good your arms look when you’re on a horse.”
“I thought you were a fan of my thighs?” I grit out as I turn back to her.
“Your dick too,” she murmurs as she casually pulls a tube of lipstick out of her pocket. The lipstick. The red lipstick she wears when she’s out. She stares at the gold tube like she can’t remember how it got there, then shrugs and applies it. I watch her raptly, the fullness of her lips giving way under the pressure of each swipe, eyes zeroing in on mine.
Just watching her is giving me far too many ideas.
“The mouth on you, girl.”
The things she says. The way she smiles. Those fucking lips.
“What about it?”
The air crackles between us, and I care a lot less about getting back to the
house.
Suddenly, right here will do.
I duck through the boards and saunter toward her. She pockets the lipstick, and her chest rises as she sucks in a breath. Skylar isn’t short by any
stretch of the imagination, but I’m still tall enough to glare down at her. To tower over her when I get close enough, forcing her head back to make eye contact just by being bigger than her.
“Your mouth?” I dip my head to whisper roughly in her ear. “Filthy.”
Her breath stutters and her eyes flash with heat. Even though I’m towering over her, she’s not the least bit intimidated by me. The fragile woman who showed up here all those weeks ago is nothing more than a memory. My chest swells with pride.
But I also realize I’ve loved every iteration of this woman. The terrified one on the highway. The frantic one in the bunkhouse. The introspective one at the beach. The jealous one at the fair.
And the one who’s looking at me right now like she wants to eat me alive.
I reach up and swipe a thumb over her lips, dragging them to the side just enough to smudge her lipstick. Getting off on the way her breathing quickens as her eyes darken.
My thumb comes away a bit red. “This goddamn lipstick.” I shake my head as I stare down at it. “Been thinking about fucking it right off your fancy face since the first day you wore it.”
A small moan catches in her throat, and I peek up to catch her tongue darting out over her soft lips. Still plenty of red painted across them as they curve up into a smirk.
“All talk, no action makes West a dull b —”
I cut off her taunt by wrapping my hand around her delicate throat.
“Skylar, get on your knees.”
My fingers tighten, but she lowers herself with excitement in her eyes, dropping to the sand at my feet as my hand slips from her neck to her hair.
“Now what?” Her palms brace on my thighs and she stares up at me like she’s waiting for direction. “You can’t just talk a big game like that and then go quiet on —”
“You’re really full of opinions tonight, huh?” My fingers clench in her hair, my boots shifting in the sand. “Quit fucking around. Undo my pants, Sky. Pull my cock out. Put that smart mouth to use.”
She smirks at me but follows my directions. Her fingers nimbly undo my belt, button, and zipper. Skylar makes quick work of my jeans and boxers and a rush of cool air caresses my bare cock as it springs free between us.
Her eyes flare as I go to grip the base, but she knocks my hand away,
placing hers there instead. She gives me her eyes and licks her lips like she’s
starving.
“You want my cock, baby?”
She huffs out a labored breath, eyes twinkling under the dark sky as she nods. Her other hand wraps around me as she gives a couple eager tugs.
I decide to get out of her way, keep my hands on her hair. “Spit on it, Sky.”
“Fuck,” she mutters, gaze locked on my dick. Her cheeks hollow out as her tongue works for a few moments. She gazes up at me. “All that talk about putting my smart mouth to use made it go dry.”
My fingers soften in her silky hair, and I tip her head up gently this time.
“I can help with that.”
I bend and start with a light kiss before slipping my tongue into her mouth to explore. She softens in my hands, her tongue meeting mine as she whimpers into my mouth. After a few seconds, I ease away and grip her jaw.
With my thumb on her chin, I pop her mouth open. Hover over her lips.
And spit.
“You’re welcome,” I rasp before straightening and place my fingers over hers where they’re holding my cock. “Try again.” Her hazel eyes darken in the low light and her back arches at the sight of my cock in my hand. “Spit on it.”
And this time, she does. We both pause for a second, staring at my cock.
Our spit. Our hands. All of it is so fucking hot.
But not nearly as hot as her lips wrapping around me as she dives forward and sucks me into her mouth. My fingers tangle in her hair as she takes me to the back of her throat like she can’t get enough.
I don’t need to do anything. My hands are just along for the ride, and she’s fully taken charge.
The hollow of her cheeks dip with shadow as she sucks. Her tongue swirls. Her lips clamp. She moans, and the vibration travels all the way up my spine.
One hand trails up, cupping my balls firmly, and I buck against her face.
“Fuck, Sky. Fuck.”
She keeps working her magic, and my head tips back. The stars blur above me. And I can hear Skylar sucking below me. Hottest blow job of my life.
When I glance back down at her, she’s got her eyes trained on me. She
slow blinks once and smiles around my length like the tease she is.
“You love this, don’t you? Knees in the dirt. My cock in your mouth.”
Her head bobs, even with my dick shoved so far to the back of her throat that her eyes look damp.
“Put your fingers in your pussy. Show me.”
She doesn’t hesitate to remove a hand from my thigh and push it down the front of her shorts. Her eyelids flutter heavily when she gets there. I know because it’s the same expression she makes when I slide inside her.
“You’re wet, aren’t you?”
She slides her hand away from my dick to the back of my thigh and her mouth pops off me as she murmurs, “Soaked.”
I slap my dick on her mouth. “Good. Come on your fingers while I fuck your face.”
“Yes.” She grins up at me, forearm flexing as she fingers herself. “And don’t be gentle. I won’t break.”
“God” is the last word I get out before I grab her head and shove myself back between her waiting lips. “Such a hot little mouth, Sky.” I thrust in hard and her nose flares as she works to breathe around me. Her shirt slips farther down her shoulder, her right breast bare to me now, bouncing with every stroke. “Tight, little cunt. I bet it feels so good.”
Her gaze stays latched on mine while we each chase our own release.
Soon, my strokes gentle and slow until she’s lapping at my dick like it’s a popsicle. I’m getting off just by watching her.
I can see it coming. The languid blinks. The flush on her cheeks that seems darker in the night.
“Used to think you looked pretty onstage, but that’s just because I hadn’t seen you on your knees for me.”
“West,” she breathes out against my swollen head as her knees slip farther apart in the sand. “I’m gonna—” She cuts herself off, taking me in again as she writhes at my feet. Her hips grind. Her arm freezes. Her tongue is soft against me as she evens out.
It’s not the feel of her mouth that pushes me over the edge. It’s watching her fall apart. It’s seeing the pleasure on her face. Hearing the way her breathing hitches when she explodes.
Watching Skylar Stone come is my undoing.
My fingers form a fist in her hair, and I pull out. “Mouth open,” I bite out harshly before fisting my cock with the opposite hand.
I jerk once before blowing on her face. Shot after shot. Her waiting
tongue. Her cherry lips. Her cheeks.
I paint her—mark her.
And I feel no remorse, especially not when her tongue darts out for a taste.
“Fucking hot, Sky,” I breathe, stroking her hair. I can’t tear my gaze from the captivating woman on her knees. Her smirk. Her little humming noise as she tastes me.
She nods, teeth pressing into her bottom lip. “So hot. I’m going to be coming down to the arena a lot more often.”
“So I can make a mess of your fancy face?”
She wipes her finger over her cheek and sticks it in her mouth before proclaiming, “Definitely.”
I shake my head. “Filthy mind to match your filthy mouth,” I mutter as I
reach back to tug my shirt off.
“You love it,” she quips.
I don’t laugh at the joke. Instead, I drop to my knees and come face-to- face with her. “I do.”
Our gazes clash. Unspoken truths linger in the air between us, but neither of us says a thing. We remain silent as I use the shirt to carefully wipe up the mess I made before tossing her over my shoulder and carrying her back to the house to make another.
I may not have her forever, but I’m going to enjoy the hell out of of her while I do.