The Bad Boy's Bride

I’m not sure. But I am sure that I will find out soon.

Sinking deep into the water, I can’t stop the moan that slips from my lips. Damn, I hurt. Everyone makes horseback riding look so easy. So why does it feel like my hips and the insides of my thighs are shattering every time I move? Geeze.

And okay, maybe having sex wasn’t the best idea for that reason, but like hell am I going to complain about having the best sex of my life. It happened so fast, and I don’t regret it for a second. Watching him ride, the absolute control that he had over the horse, I wanted to be closer to him. Just like I’d been dreaming about and fantasizing about since the moment he walked out the door the day we got married.

Honestly, I didn’t know that my legs would give out. But the second he picked me up, I knew that I never wanted to leave his arms. Holy shit, that man’s body. It’s a playground that I want to explore again.

Clayton has muscles on top of muscles from a life of working outdoors. From sweat and sunshine and effort. And I felt every inch of that strong body against me when he had me pinned to the bed.

The chemistry between us is utterly undeniable. Impossible. I wasn’t completely aware of what was happening, and neither was he. It was primal in a way that I’d never experienced before. And I want more. Clayton completely and thoroughly fucked me. There is no other word for it. He fucked me exactly like I’d challenged him to.

I can still feel his hand on my throat, warning me not to move as he took exactly what he wanted. The bite on my shoulder will bruise, and I like knowing that it will. A small reminder of what was between us, no matter how short.

The question is, will it happen again?

Do I want it to? Absolutely. Does he? I…don’t know.

I imagine going to sleep in that guest bedroom with him so close by, and I’m already wet just thinking about the possibilities. Who would have thought that I’d be so attracted to my husband?

Fuck, it’s all so confusing. Last week I didn’t know who he was, and now I’m not sure that I ever want to be away from him, which is terrifying to think about, given that I barely know the man.

But don’t I? He begged me to save this place. Because he loves it. And the people here love him. Deep down, I already know that he is a good man. And if I let myself look inside even for a second, I can see that something deep in me is drawn to him. Like two magnets that are exactly tuned to the other.

Slowly as I soak in the hot water, my muscles ease, and the pain lessens a little. God, how long has it been since I had a bath? I can’t remember a time when I just let myself have a little luxury. That was culinary life. It was hard. It was a grind. I loved it, but there is definitely something to be said for slowing down and breathing.

Rocking R Ranch is a place for that. Everything is…perfect. From the husband who is far more than just a brooding cowboy, to the wide-open skies and perfect views. There’s something that is calling to my soul and telling me that I can be happy here.

What would have happened if I hadn’t listened to Clayton and Katie and just made the decision to sell the ranch? The thought makes me sick to my stomach. If I had done that, effectively destroyed this place, and then discovered after how wonderful it is, I never would have forgiven myself.

Even if nothing more happens between Clayton and me—my stomach tightens at the possibility of never feeling his cock or his body again—the sacrifice would be worth it to save this place.

But what happens later? If Clayton and I aren’t together…there’s no more family. Or what if we have children with other people? Would the ranch go to his children or to mine? The thought unsettles me, and I push it out of my mind until I’m thinking about nothing but the perfect water, the light scent of lavender and how lovely all of this is.

I drift, barely realizing how tired I am until the bath is nearly cold. I need a nap. Pain ripples in my thighs as I stand, but my legs hold me as I wrap myself in a towel and drain the tub. It doesn’t feel right to sleep in his bed. Not when I have no idea where we stand. Instead I move down the hallway to the bedroom where he first carried me, stretch out onto the clean sheets and drift into a perfect, exhausted sleep.