Flawless (Chestnut Springs #1) (72)

She crawls up onto all fours, baring herself to me, whimpering desperately. “Rhett, please.”

I squeeze my cock hard in my fist, eyes glued to her pussy clenching and releasing with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Fuck. Summer. Hang on. I need a condom.”

“No,” she whines. “I want it. I want you. Just you.” She glances at me over her shoulder, eyes wild and sparkly. I don’t think she means to, but her back arches, which pushes her ass out toward me.

“I’ve never not used a condom,” I say, licking my lips.

“I have an IUD. I’m clean.”

My hands are on her ass, rubbing. Spreading. Back to shaking just a bit. My cock throbs like it never has before, and my bed puts her at the perfect height to slide into.

“Are you sure, Summer?” I ask, slipping two fingers into her dripping pussy.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, rocking her hips back toward me.

I groan and notch the thick head of my cock against her.

“More.” Her slender fingers grip the sheets. She doesn’t move, but she’s begging me to.

I wrap my hands around her hips and push into her slowly, carefully. She always feels so small, and looking down, watching the way her body stretches to take me, just drives that fact home.

“Fuck,” she breathes out. “That feels . . .”

“Incredible,” I finish, savoring the feel of being bare inside her as I seat myself to the hilt. Skin on skin. Memorizing every pulse, every twitch and flutter. It’s other-fucking-worldly.

“Again.”

“Princess, I need a second. You should see how you look from here.”

“Tell me.” She wiggles against me, peeking over her shoulder again. Flushed cheeks, wisps of hair on her temples. A hungry gleam in her eye. I feel her pussy clamp down on my cock when she says, “Tell me how I look.”

I growl, sliding one hand up her back, pressing her down onto the bed while the other hand grabs the back strap of her chaps and hikes her ass up, positioning her how I want her.

I pull out and thrust back in. “You look perfect.”

“More.”

I pump in and out of her, letting one hand trail down her spine. “I love this indent down your back. And this ass.” I squeeze hard, gripping it and letting go, watching the white fingerprints turn pink and smiling when she wiggles it at me again. I give her one firm slap and hear the breath whoosh out of her lungs.

I reach between us and rub a finger against her pussy where it hugs my cock. A shiver races down her spine as I do. “You look like you were born to take my cock.”

She moans. “Jesus, I love it when you say shit like that.”

I smile victoriously and slam into her, watching her body shake with the force of my thrust. “Princess, you look like you were made for me.”

Her voice is hushed when she responds. But I catch it all the same.

“I feel like I was made for you.”

That’s all it takes for me to unleash. I grip the leather strap around her waist with one hand, her ass with my other, and fuck her like she was made for me.

She doesn’t crumble. She meets every stroke, arching her back and pushing in for more. Letting me take her farther, deeper, than I ever have.

Perspiration trickles down my temple, and her moans turn into screams. “You’re going to take it, Summer. Take every fucking inch. And you’re going to scream my name when you come.”

Like it was a command, I feel her body shake and buck beneath me.

And when she screams my name as I spill myself inside her, surge after surge, I’m hit with a realization that sends me reeling.

Summer wasn’t just made for me.

She’s it for me.





27





Summer





Summer: You going to come to the rodeo with me this weekend?

Dad: Wouldn’t miss it. Beers are on me. Maybe some of those cinnamon mini donuts too.

Summer: Sounds healthy.

Dad: If this were my last moment on earth, I’d want to go with a beer in one hand and a mini donut in the other.

Summer: I hate you.

Dad: I love you too.





We step into the trendy downtown restaurant—all whites and silvers and modern lines—and Rhett looks out of place here. Frankly, I feel out of place here, like something inside of me has changed in the last couple months.

Before my time in Chestnut Springs, this was the type of place I would have loved to come for dinner. But spending long days in the prairies, seeing the mountains, being surrounded by people who value different things, well, I’m thinking they’ve rubbed off on me. That maybe my priorities have changed.

Rhett’s hand bumps against mine as he peers around the restaurant. He’s reached back for me without even looking, possibly without even thinking about it.

The girl who likes places like these pops up in my head, telling me I shouldn’t hold his hand in public. That it’s not appropriate. That I’ll get one of us in trouble.

But the new girl—the windswept, sun-kissed girl with beautiful custom chaps who makes love in the back of a rusty old pickup in the middle of a field—doesn’t give a fuck.

She tells me to slip my soft hand into Rhett’s rough one and give it a squeeze.