Off the Record (Off #3)(43)

She feels too f*cking amazing, wrapped around me.

Ever is gasping hard for breath, and thankfully she moans into my ear, “Feels good...don’t stop.”

I have no intention of stopping...ever. My Ever.

Just as I feel Ever sink her nails into my scalp, her body stiffens and she clamps down on my dick hard...really hard. I think I’m feeling a powerful orgasm tear through her and I can’t hold out any longer. I come so hard, so long...my knees almost give way but I somehow manage to stay upright.

Even after I am empty, my hips still thrust against her shallowly, trying to milk every ripple of ecstasy out of my body.

When I finally regain my senses, I stumble backward, falling onto the deck chair that started this wild ride. Ever falls against my chest and lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh, my...” she says.

“Yeah...oh, my...” I stroke my hands up along her back and I feel very possessive about this woman in my arms. Things are changing for me so fast, that I wonder what has happened to the Linc Caldwell that subsisted on booty calls and was firmly against monogamy.

Ever’s breath is soft against my chest, and as the lazy Wyoming sun starts to warm my body again, I drift off into sleep.





I’ve decided to take Ever out on the town. Jackson Hole is fairly small, and outside of a few really great restaurants, art and jewelry stores, there’s not much else. Except for the Million Dollar Cowboy bar. It’s practically an institution unto itself.

Ever looks right at home. She purchased a pair of cowboy boots today and she’s wearing them paired with a flowered skirt that skims just above her knees, a plain white t-shirt that hugs her breasts with care, and a denim jacket. It’s a good thing she has the denim jacket on, because she’s not wearing a bra and I get an occasional glimpse of a hard nipple poking through.

She keeps looking with longing at the bar. “Come on, Linc. Let’s just go sit at the bar for one drink.”

“No,” I say emphatically. “I’m not about to have you flashing half your leg trying to get up on the barstool.

She grins cheekily at me but I smolder just a bit. The barstools here are actually cowboy saddles stuck on top of a metal pole. If she were to set her pretty ass on one of those things, her skirt would hike up practically to her hips.

Her lip is stuck out in a pout but I won’t budge on that. I figure if I’m going to have those proprietary feelings toward her, I might as well go all the way.

We nurse our beers and watch the band. I’m not into country music but “When in Rome”, right? The dance floor is packed with people doing the two-step and I unwillingly find my own foot tapping to beat of the music. Glancing at Ever, she’s enjoying herself, both of her heels tapping the floor and her shoulders moving.

When a slow song comes on, the parade of people two-stepping by slows, and they all start swaying together. I stand and Ever looks up at me. I just hold my hand out to her and she takes it willingly.

Leading her onto the dance floor, her hand feels so right in mine. I pull her into my arms and she lays her cheek against my chest, her hands on my shoulder.

“This is nice,” she murmurs.

I make a sound of agreement in my throat. I rest my lips against the top of her head and I can smell her strawberry shampoo. I don’t think I’ll ever look at another strawberry again without thinking of the way Ever smells. The way she tastes.

“I’m glad you declined my dinner invitation that day I met you.”

She pulls her head back and looks at me with surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. Think about it. We probably would have gone out to dinner, you would have written a really nice article about me, you would have gone on assignment, and we probably would have forgotten each other.”

A small smile creeps onto her face. “You know...I think you may be right.”

I lean down and give her a soft kiss. It’s one of thankfulness for the amazing circumstances I find myself in. “I’m actually really glad you wrote that article. It threw us together. And I’m really glad I have you in my life. I think something was missing until I met you.”

Ever stiffens slightly in my arms and she doesn’t respond. She just lays her head back on my chest.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask her.

She looks up at me again and her gaze looks uneasy. “No...it’s just...I thought this was just sex. I thought that was all Linc Caldwell did...just sex.”

I want to reassure her that is not all there is to me. I want her to know that for some reason, she’s become more to me than just a great f*ck. “Ever...everyone grows and changes. Maybe I’m changing. Maybe you’re changing me.”

I had hoped to see relief in her eyes. I had hoped she would kiss me and tell me that was f*cking fantastic. I wanted her to say that something was missing in her life too until she met me.

Instead, she shakes her head sorrowfully. “I’m sorry, Linc. But I just don’t feel that way. I can’t feel that way.”

Then she steps out of my arms and walks off the dance floor.





I’m lying in bed next to Linc. He has me spooned into him, his arms wrapped tightly around me. His breathing is even and relaxed.

I am anything but.

Yesterday had actually threatened to destroy my sanity. I had thought I had firm control over my feelings. But yesterday, when Linc and I had sex on the deck, something shifted inside of me. It was like that hard block of ice around my heart started rattling, threatening to expose a vulnerable crack. His actions were intense and raw. I was stripped naked, but he made me feel more exposed and vulnerable...stripped to my core...with the way he moved inside of me.