Jeremiah (Stud Ranch 5)

The power that swelled in my chest from her giving in, especially knowing it was a sacrifice willingly given—oh, I would reward her.

“Tell me you want it,” I demanded. “Beg.”

“P-please,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “Please fuck me.”

I braced my knee on the bench seat, shifted her underneath me, and slid home.

7

Ruth

By the time the sun rose, I was aching, sore, and had come more times in a twelve-hour period than I ever imagined was possible.

It was… uh, definitely one way to pass the time while being stranded between two suddenly roaring rivers.

We’d barely slept—just brief naps against Jeremiah’s chest before either he or I would reach for one another again. And then we’d rearrange ourselves in the small cab. Me on my back on the bench seat. Me riding him while he sat in the passenger’s seat, hands clenching my thighs. Me on my hands and knees while he stood on the nerf bar step up into the truck, driving so deep his balls slapped my ass.

I had been thoroughly fucked, eaten out, massaged, and then… cuddled.

Cuddled by Jeremiah.

We’d obviously entered into some strange pocket universe outside of normal time and space. That was all I could think as I looked, exhausted, out the window as the sun rose, pink streaking the finally clear sky.

Jeremiah stirred underneath me. I was sleeping all but on top of him, though I was shocked he’d been comfortable enough to actually fall asleep, lounged half on the bench, his long legs bent awkwardly into the footwell below—and with me tucked behind and half on top of him.

I scooted back against the door to give him space to sit up.

We were still both absolutely naked.

He blinked and rubbed a fist against one eye. “Morning already? We should check the stream to see if it’s passable.”

Right. The stream. It was such a shockingly prosaic proposition that it took me a second to answer.

“Wanna hand me my shirt?” he asked.

Of course. He couldn’t exactly walk over to check the stream naked. What if a car was stopped on the other side, waiting for the water to lower?

Because shit, it was officially tomorrow.

And that meant it was time to go back to the real world.

I was just handing Jeremiah his shirt and pulling mine back on over my head after securing my bra when—

A truck drove past.

My head swung to Jeremiah, eyes wide.

“I guess the water’s lowered enough that it’s passable,” Jeremiah said.

“No shit.” Still, I blinked a couple times as Jeremiah reached down into the passenger wheel well for his boxers and jeans.

I scrambled for my underwear and shorts. The underwear were more dry than the denim shorts but I pulled them both on anyway.

Jeremiah had to step out of the truck to put his jeans back on and I averted my gaze from his taut bare ass as he climbed out, my cheeks flaming.

Which was ridiculous, considering what we’d been doing all evening. I mean, we’d used some napkins he had stashed in his glove compartment to clean me up, but I was still messy with his cum, he’d emptied into me so many times. My breath caught at the memories and I was torn between wanting to run to a shower right away and wanting to linger with the scent of him all over me for the day at least as a reminder to prove to myself that this had all actually happened.

If not for the soreness between my legs, I might be tempted to think it was all a fever dream.

Especially when Jeremiah climbed back in the truck, his face completely composed and no-nonsense.

“We should hurry back to the ranch. They’ll be worried about us not coming home last night.”

I nodded, reaching down and pulling my cell phone out. “I’ll call them as soon as we— Well, I would have if my battery hadn’t died.”

Jeremiah reached for his phone and plugged it into a wire coming from the center console as he turned on the truck. “You can text them from my phone as soon as we get somewhere there’s service.”

I nodded, looking at my lap.

Then he’d pulled the truck into drive and we were pulling forward, the trailer behind us clanking as it tugged along.

We rounded the corner and there was the stream that had trapped us last night. White water raced underneath the bridge, but at least it was an inch below the road now. It must have only just become passable.

Jeremiah took it slow as our truck and trailer rattled over, and then, just like that, we were on the other side. I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder out the back window.

It didn’t look like anything special, so why did I feel like our night back there had changed everything? I snuck a look at Jeremiah, but his face was unreadable.