Wild Cowboy Nights (Foolproof Love 1-3)

“We have to be convincing.” He kissed down her neck. “And you’re not thinking about slapping me right now and I’ve had my hands all over you.”

“True.” She knew she was grabbing onto the flimsy excuse with both hands, but she didn’t care. “I don’t feel much like punching you in the throat right now.”

“That’s good.” His laugh vibrated against her skin, but then his voice deepened. “You want my cock, peaches. Let me give it to you.”

She pressed her lips together, trying and failing to see the pitfalls in front of her. It was impossible. All she could focus on was how empty she felt, even with his fingers still stroking her. She wanted more, and she wanted it now. Aubry ran her hand over his arm, silently marveling at the strength she could feel there. “Just this week. Then we go back to normal.”

“Deal.” He urged her to spread her legs a little wider. “We’ll be back to sniping at each other, and we’ll never speak of this again.”

She lifted her head and kissed him. “In that case, Quinn, you better have a condom secreted away somewhere, because I think I might die if I don’t have your cock right now.”

He slid off the bed and strode to the dresser. Behind the giant bouquet of fake flowers, there was a bowl she hadn’t noticed—a bowl filled to the brim with pink and red condom wrappers.

She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him rip a wrapper open and roll it onto his length. “I think you might have to give that mechanic a gigantic tip.”

“I’m inclined to think you’re right.” He stopped at the edge of the bed. “How do you want it, peaches?”

It was official. She was still in the shower and fantasizing this entire thing.

Emboldened by the thought, she grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed, guiding him onto his back. No matter which way I spin it, this isn’t real. That means I can do whatever the hell I want. “I like the picture you painted before.” She straddled his hips, bracing herself on his big chest. “I’ll make you a deal.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Since our last deal worked out so well, I’m in.”

“You don’t even want to hear it?”

“Sure I do.” He cupped her breasts, squeezing gently until she hissed out a breath. “Though if it involves watching you ride my cock, I’m going to tell you right now that we’re both coming out the winners in this.”

“I’d settle for us both coming.”

“Peaches, you read my mind.”

She rose and reached between them to stroke his cock. So big. She wanted it. She wanted it all. Aubry positioned him at her entrance and sank down an inch. Quinn gripped her hips, slowing her descent. “Easy.”

“I don’t want it easy. I want it hard and hot and rough.”

Something changed on his face, and she realized that he’d held onto the slightest bit of control until this point. It was gone now. He pulled her down and his hips rose, sheathing his cock in her to the hilt. Her breath escaped her in a sharp cry that had nothing to do with pain. She tried to move, to shift, to do something to relieve the growing pressure inside her, but Quinn kept their hips pinned together. “That’s it, peaches. Feel every single fucking inch of me.”

“I…can’t.” She shook her head, still trying and failing to move. “I need more.”

“I’ve got more for you.” He lifted her and slammed her down onto him. She moaned, wanting to help him, but he had full control despite her being on top. Quinn half sat up and used one hand to grasp the back of her neck, pulling her down against his chest. He kissed her, still fucking her, the contrast between his grip and what his cock was doing between her legs nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. He broke away enough to say, “This is what you wanted.”

“Yes.” There was no point in playing coy. She gripped his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. There was nothing soft or sweet or gentle about what he was doing to her. It was hard and gritty and sexy beyond belief.

And she loved every second of it.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, bowing her back and ripping a desperate little cry from her lips that she’d deny she made until her dying day. Quinn’s hands spasmed on her hips, his face twisting into a grimace and her groaned name slipping from his lips.

He said my name as he came. It didn’t mean a damn thing. She’d done the same. It was hormones and desire-fueled insanity at its finest.

It was still the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

That, more than anything, got her moving. She slid off him—or she tried to. His arms went tense around her. “Where do you think you’re going?”