Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 43512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Her eyes meet mine, clear and burning. “Don’t stop,” she says.
The words hit like permission and surrender and trust.
And I take her hand, lace our fingers together, and ease us down onto the bed as if I’m laying something precious to rest. The room is dark except for the little lamp glow, casting soft shadows over her face. She looks at me like I’m not a mistake—like I’m something she’s choosing.
That wrecks me in the best way.
I kiss her again, slower now, pouring everything I never said into the pressure of my mouth. Her arms wrap around me, holding me close like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
I remove her clothing and she removes mine. I press against her, my body harder than a rock.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I push my cock deep inside her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.”
“Nash, you have no clue. I’ve wanted you for so long.” Her eyes widen. “And you’re so much bigger than I ever imagined.”
This makes me proud, and I smile down at her. “Is this what you wanted?” I thrust harder into her, filling her up. “Is this how you imagined me?” I push deeper.
Her legs wrap around my waist. “Yes, Nash. Yes.”
“You’re so fucking pretty, Laney.” I want to spill my heart to her. Tell her how in love with her I am, but I keep my mouth shut and focus on the pleasure.
My dick’s hard, and I try not to lose control. I keep working, letting my cock fill her up. She feels so fucking good.
We move together, finding a rhythm that feels like coming home after being lost for years. She matches me thrust for thrust. Her breath catches. My name breaks from her lips like it’s been waiting there.
Outside, the ranch is still under threat.
But in here, in this room, in this moment, there is only her.
Only us.
And when the night finally tips past the point where restraint turns into something else—when the heat crests and the world narrows to breath and heartbeat and the truth of her in my arms—I let the rest of the details stay ours.
Because this isn’t a conquest.
It’s not a win.
It’s a promise I’m finally keeping.
After, I stay close, my forehead against her temple, listening to her breathing slow. My hand rests at her waist, thumb moving in small, absent circles like I’m reassuring myself she’s still here.
“I’m not leaving,” I murmur.
She shifts, half-asleep, and whispers back, “You better not.”
And in the dark, with danger outside and peace inside, I make myself a vow I’ll live by: Whoever is messing with this ranch… is going to learn what happens when you threaten the place where Delaney Coleman’s heart lives.
And now?
That includes me.
TWELVE
DELANEY
I wake up warm.
Not Texas-warm, not sun-on-the-back-of-your-neck warm—safe warm. The kind that lives under blankets and inside arms you trust. For one blissful second, I don’t remember the fence line, the sabotage, the Strouds, the truck in the night.
I just feel… held.
Nash’s arm is heavy around my waist, his hand splayed flat on my stomach like he anchored me here sometime after midnight and never let go. His chest rises slow behind me, solid and steady. His breath is a soft brush at the back of my neck.
I’ve dreamed about this.
Not in the dirty way people assume when they hear dreamed—though, okay, sometimes in that way too—but mostly in the achey way. The way you lie awake at twenty-two in a city apartment that doesn’t feel like yours yet and imagine what it would be like if the boy you loved hadn’t turned into a ghost.
If I move, will the dream break?
I shift an inch anyway, because curiosity is my fatal flaw.
Nash makes a low sound—half sigh, half warning—and tightens his arm like his body knows I’m real before his brain catches up.
“Morning,” he rasps, voice wrecked with sleep.
My heart does something stupid and teenage.
“Morning,” I whisper back.
He presses a slow kiss to my shoulder—unhurried, intimate, like he has nowhere else to be and no reason to pretend he doesn’t want this. Then his mouth trails up to the spot just below my ear, and my whole body lights up like a struck match.
“Nash,” I breathe, not a warning this time. More like a surrender.
He rolls us gently so I’m on my back, hovering over me on one forearm. His hair is mussed, his eyes a darker brown in the morning light, and there’s a faint crease between his brows like he woke up already worried and decided to look at me anyway.
He studies me for a second like he’s making sure I’m still here. “You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod, because words feel too fragile.
His thumb slides along my cheekbone, feather-light. “Tell me if you regret it.”
I grab the front of his t-shirt and tug him down until his mouth meets mine.