Knotted (Trails of Sin 1)

Yet she’s not permitted in my room. I’m not allowed to hold her hand or, God forbid, kiss her. Lorne and Jarret have mastered the art of covering for us while we sneak around the eight-thousand-square-foot home our families share. Most nights, we ride out to the south pasture after our fathers have retired for the evening.

Like tonight.

Lorne and Jarret disappear behind the ridge, and Barnabe ambles slowly after, rocking Conor against me in a cocoon of heat and friction.

I trail fingertips across her thigh, delighting in the clench of her legs around my hips and the rise of goosebumps along her skin. Creamy, silken Irish skin that burns so easily in the sun.

I know every freckle on her body, and I’ve ventured to count them over the years. But the dark one at the edge of her right nipple always distracts me from the task.

Goddamn, I love her tits. The dusky pink nipples. The way they harden against my tongue. I love all her pretty parts—the vibrant green of her eyes, the pout of her lips, the shape of her toned legs, and these shorts…

I run my hand over the frayed denim, intimately familiar with this particular pair of cutoffs. The worn hole near the zipper has been stretched over time by my prodding finger, and if she bends just right, I can see the crease between her perfect ass and thighs.

“You’re quiet.” I slide a hand under the back of her knee, tickling the soft skin there.

Mosquitoes buzz in the hush, biting my bare arms.

She swats at one on my neck and leans up to brush her lips against the sting. “I’m nervous.”

“If I was a good guy, I’d tell you we can wait.”

Not happening.

I’ve waited years, fantasizing, wanting. I wanted her when her kisses made me stutter. I wanted her when my dick started hardening in my hand. I wanted her when her boobs grew, and dark hair appeared under my arms. I really wanted her when I discovered porn and watched all the licking, sucking, pounding, filthy ways I could want her.

Over the past couple of years, I spent my nights kissing and humping the space in my bed that should’ve been filled with Conor Cassidy. But I couldn’t have her the way I wanted.

Until now.

Some might think sixteen is still too young for what I have in mind.

Fuck them.

I’ll be seventeen next month. We’re the same age for only two weeks, and tonight feels like a long-awaited rite of passage. A momentous coming-together. The beginning of our future.

I don’t know where this sentimental shit comes from. I was raised by a hard-ass man’s man, who has neither the time nor the inclination for romantic ideals.

I’m cut from the same cloth, fashioned from the rugged land on which he raised me. But all my soft parts belong to Conor.

“No more waiting, Jake.” She shifts her hand on my abs, dipping bold fingers beneath my belt buckle.

“Damn right.” My breath runs away from me, chopping my voice.

I might be wildly worked-up and hard as a rock, but this desperation, this need, is bigger than just getting off inside my girl.

She’s the nexus of my world. A world that goes beyond sex and wedding bells and riding off into the sunset. I’ll ride east, if that’s where she’s going. I’ll drive a sedan, if that’s what she wants. I’ll wear fucking loafers, if it makes her smile.

Hell, I’m so in love with her I don’t even need feet. I’ll just float on the high I get whenever she’s near.

“It’s going to be great.” My cock thinks so. I’ve never been this painfully aroused. Pretty sure I can hit a home run with the wood in my pants.

“Oh, it’ll be great for you.” She shoves her hand deeper into my jeans and grips the ramrod length of me. “But this thing is gonna hurt.”

“Conor…” With a choked groan, I pry her fingers off my dick. “I’ll go slow.”

“I know.” She rests her cheek on my spine and sighs. “I love you, Jake Holsten. Even if you don’t go slow. Even if it’s not that great.”

“Damn, baby.” I press a fist against my chest, laughing. “Not the vote of confidence I was looking for.”

“You don’t need that with me.” She lifts the Stetson from my head, strokes a hand through my hair, and returns the hat. “It’s just us.”

“And it’s meant to be.” I grasp her thigh and squeeze. “That’s all we need.”

When we reach the ridge, I tether Barnabe to a tree alongside the other horses. The trail continues down a steep slope and ends in a ravine surrounded by cliffs. That’s where I’ll take her when there’s no light in the sky but the stars. We have about an hour till complete darkness.

While Lorne starts a fire, I recline against a log at the edge of the clearing with a direct line of sight on my girl. She stands near the fire pit and tunes her acoustic guitar, watching me watch her with a smile glittering in her eyes.