Running Wild (Second Shot 0.50)

“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.

“I just need a minute,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her naked legs.

“What are you doing in there?” Dominic called. “Riding that bull alone?”

“What makes you think he’s alone?” Ryan said dryly.

Ah hell.

Noah stepped off the mat. “I’m sorry, Josie,” he murmured, hoping Dominic wouldn’t overhear.

She just stared back at him. “Goodbye, Noah.”

He heard the knob rattle. He’d locked it. But still, Dominic wasn’t stupid. If he’d realized Josie was missing from the party too . . .

“Don’t break the damn thing,” Noah called as he opened it. He stepped out into the night, forcing his friends to move back. He quickly pulled the door closed behind him.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“The party’s dying down,” Ryan said. His friend wasn’t smiling and hell, he looked as if he’d gotten into it with someone. His button-down flannel was untucked from his jeans, and he was off by a button.

And yeah, Noah was too busy wondering what had happened to Ryan to see it coming.

At the last second, he saw a flash of skin near his face. A fist. And then pain shot through his jaw. He reeled back, lost his footing, and landed on his ass in the dirt outside the barn door.

“Zip up your damn fly,” Dominic growled, lowering his fist.

Shit. He deserved that hit. Maybe another one for the way he’d left Josie naked and in fucking love with him beside the damn bull.