Page 61 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

“I want to know how good it will feel when you make me cum, Wade,” I really do. “Please,” I add.

My legs are pulled to the front of the chair, and he drags my ass slightly forward, allowing him room to force my legs apart. He crouches down between them when I hear him growl, “Fuck, Maeve, I don’t even have to touch you to see how wet you are. That pretty blue thong is soaking.”

His face disappears under the baggy T-shirt, until all I can see is his cowboy hat. I feel his lips on my inner thighs, getting closer to my pussy with each kiss. His hands are holding the swing chair on either side of me, preventing it from moving. The veins in his arms pop; why is that so hot?

I move in closer, desperate for him to reach his destination, and when he does, he lets go of the swing chair, causing his face to be fully buried into my pussy. Just the thin layer of my thong between us.

Not that it lasts that long because as quickly as I complain in my head about that barrier, Wade creates some space between us, allowing room for both of his hands to come under my shirt and tear the thong in two. He pulls it away with one hand and stuffs it into the back of his jeans.

Now I am bare for him. Nothing between us, and I am dying to know exactly what it feels like to cum for him. I am just worried it won’t happen. I have only cum for things that are battery operated. No man has ever given me the attention to get me to where I need to be, only sorted themselves out. Shows the type of men I have been with—selfish pricks.

Wade Carter is anything but selfish. He runs his tongue along my slit, using his hands to pull the chair into his face for the most glorious firm pressure.

“Fuck Wade,” I rasp, which encourages him to glide his tongue up to my throbbing clit, flicking his tongue against me in a steady rhythm. My hand clamps onto the arm of the chair, my head tipping back from the shudder of pleasure that runs through me. Just when I think my body can’t take anymore, he moves his hand back under my shirt, driving a finger deep inside of me, making me cry out.

This is absolutely crazy; I am out in the open, getting fingered fucked by my boss as the sun is rising. Luckily for us, we have time before anyone even starts dragging themselves out of bed—thank God for being an early riser.

Wade appears from between my legs, fingers still sliding in and out of me.

“God, you taste as angelic as you look,” he groans at me, the slickness of me evident all over his beard. He grabs the back of the chair with his free hand, pulling it to him, so our mouths meet. He kisses me with such hunger, and I can taste myself on him as I moan against him.

“Are you ready to cum now, angel?” he says against my lips in a low whisper.

“Yes, please,” I beg.

He begins to rock the chair, using it to pump his fingers deeper inside me. It has me panting in time with each rock, pressure building up to my approaching orgasm. I claw onto Wade’s shoulder, digging my nails in. This is too much.

“Wade… I am going to cum.”

He moves faster. Deeper.

“Cum for me, Maeve. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” He says in my ear, then starts to kiss my neck.

And that’s it. Him calling me a good girl sends me over the edge. Clutching onto his broad shoulders, my body shudders as the muscles inside me contract around his fingers.

I let go of him, letting out the biggest exhale of my life. He removes his fingers from me, back to towering over me as I look up in disbelief.

Then, after another forehead kiss, he states, “You know where I am if you decide you want more.” Then he leaves me alone on the porch, messy from my arousal. I watch him walk away, the bright blue fabric hanging from his back pocket.

Chapter Twenty Three

Colt

“Where the hell are we going, Colt?” Maeve's voice reaches me clearly despite my horse being a fair few paces in front of her and Clementine. I glance behind me, seeing Maeve fully confident in the saddle, with the mountain backdrop adding to how breathtaking the sight of her is.

“You’ll see when we get there!” I shout back, trying to pull Athena, my pale coat mare, to a slower trot, but failing. She is clearly just as eager to get to our destination as I am, continuing onto a narrower grassy path, sloping down to a small area nestled in the mountains.

The sun is high in the sky, not a cloud in sight, just the occasional shadows of trees giving us a break from the heat beating down on us. The June sun is coming a little earlier than usual; and none of us expected these temperatures. I am just gladwe are finished for the day—earlier than usual thanks to Wade, who has given everyone permission to do the main ranch tasks and be done with the day. Better to do the bare minimum one day than have a bunch of sun-stroked cowboys moaning or getting ill for days to come.

Taking full advantage of the clear afternoon, I rushed to the main house at lunch. Maeve was sitting amongst the other hands; her smile infectious as everyone around her was laughing and smiling. All of which continued when I asked Maeve to pack her swimming gear and meet me in the barn at 3 p.m. The room filled with a lot of mocking “Ooooh’s” and wolf whistles. Teasing me for the fact that I want to spend time with my friend. The friend I think I have feelings for.

The fact that Maeve leaves in less than three months doesn’t escape me, but I am tired of thinking about the future. I’m taking what my therapist says and practicing living in the moment. I have found myself approaching one of the most beautiful scenic places on the ranch about to confess my feelings to the girl I like—if I don’t chicken out, that is.

The path begins to widen, revealing a large lake. It almost appears as though it is glittering when the sunlight reflects off the water’s surface. Wildflowers of nearly every colour line the edge of the lake, weaving off to random patches among the grass that cover the whole area, apart from the man-made path from decades of people walking on it.

A gasp comes from behind me, “This is fucking stunning!”

Clementine halts to a stop beside mine.