Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)
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“You’re sure?” he gasped, his hands holding tight, but no longer trying to stop her.
“Please, Noah, take me for a ride.”
Chapter Five
I’M GOING TO picture her breasts every damn time I close my eyes.
Noah couldn’t take his eyes off Josie as she placed her hands flat on his chest, arched her lower back, and began to ride him. Her breasts swung forward and he took it as an invitation. Curling his abs, he caught one sweet, tempting nipple with his mouth and began to suck.
“Oh God, Noah,” she called above him, her words drowning out the sound of the bull still spinning and bucking beside them. Her hips ground into him in earnest—searching, needing, wanting . . .
Sweetheart, I’m going to give you a ride you won’t forget.
He rocked his hips up and off the mat, driving into her. He released her breast, but quickly replaced his lips with his hands. He wanted to see her, watch her face while she came. And he sure as hell wanted to remember this moment.
“Noah. Oh, Noah,” she screamed. His named echoed in the barn as she moved faster and faster, taking him with her. He was so damn close . . . But he couldn’t, not yet. She had to come first. She had to—
“Noah!”
Her body gripped him, convulsing around him as her hips slowed their needy, desperate motions.
“Noah,” she said, her voice shifting from a scream to a near whisper. But she kept her head thrown back, her eyes closed. “Oh God, Noah. I love you.”
No. She couldn’t.
“Don’t say that, Josie.” Agony rose up to great the pleasure radiating from his very happy dick. But the pleasure won. “Oh fuck . . . you can’t . . .”
He couldn’t hold back. He thrust up into her and gave in to the blinding, mind-numbing sensations, the pure contentment that took hold, making the rest of the world fade away for one beautiful, perfect moment.
And then it came rushing back. Josie Fairmore had said “I love you” while he had his dick buried in her.
He opened his eyes and looked up at her. God, he’d rip out his heart and hand it to her if he could. But he was leaving. And the place he was going, where they would train him to shoot at people instead of paper, to rush into a war he didn’t fully understand—he couldn’t take her heart there.
He needed to say something, to leave her with something. But what could he say to the beautiful woman looking down at him as if her orgasm had sent her tumbling into a pit of sadness?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. Josie, I’m the one who should apologize. I’m the one . . .”
Who wants to love you, but can’t.
“Noah?” A fist pounded on the side door. “Noah, are you in there?” His best friend’s voice called through the door.
Shit, I hope I locked it.
“Hold on. I’m here,” he called before Dominic tested the handle.
Josie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” And yeah, it was becoming clear it was one of many apologies he owed her. He’d wanted to be the one who made sure no one ever hurt her again. Her hero. Not the man who broke her heart. But playing the hero had slipped out of reach this time, beyond his control.
“I need to go,” he said. “I think I locked the door, but—”
“That won’t keep Dom out.” She raised her hips, letting his semi-hard dick slip out as she moved to the mat.
“Yeah.” He got to his feet and started pulling on his clothes. But she didn’t move. “Josie?” he asked, slipping his feet into his shoes.