Page 47 of Sinful Sharing

Taylor bites his bottom lip, his chest expanding from a deep inhale. I expect him to regurgitate the list of reasons he can’t reveal his sexuality. Instead, he straddles me. “Would you rather keep talking, or fuck me?”

My traitorous dick chooses this very moment to start growing. Taylor shifts on my lap, making it thicken even faster. “I think I have my answer.”

“Not tonight.” I clutch his hips and slide him off me. My body screams in protest. Every inch of me craves the feel of his tight, warm flesh, but for once, I won’t surrender to that need. For once, I want so much more than sex. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I get it.” He rests his head on my shoulder. “You know what? You’re a decent guy, Jude.”

With a snort, I wrap my arm around his waist, staring at the tiny silver points of light in the sky. I’m not a good guy—yet— but I want to be one. It means taking accountability, going back to therapy, and fixing what’s wrong with me. Not only for myself, but for Taylor too.

Because the truth is, he’s not only under Roman’s skin. There’s no denying that I’m falling for him.

The thought settles in my soul as a sudden thump comes from behind us. I twist my head, frowning. “Did you hear something?”

28

Roman

I position the saddle pad on Ranger, the musky scent of leather flooding my senses. He flicks an ear toward me, impatient to get moving. I understand the feeling. I have a mountain tour scheduled in less than twenty minutes, and keeping busy has become my latest survival method. Busy means I don’t think about that night. It means I don’t remember Taylor moaning underneath me. It means I don’t spend every waking minute replaying the sweet, rhythmic embrace of his body around my cock.

Busy means I don’t crave more.

The stable door creaks open, pulling me from thoughts that are already making me hard. My entire body goes rigid. I don’t need to turn around to know who just entered the room. The shift in the air, the immediate tightening in my stomach, and the erratic beating of my pulse are all signs.

Damn it.

I keep my attention on the saddle.

“Good morning,” Taylor greets me. His tone sounds casual. Too casual, as if he hasn’t completely upended my goddamn peace of mind.

“Morning,” I mumble.

A heavy, unnatural silence settles between us. I sense his eyes on me. Waves of tingling heat cover my skin and warm my insides. Gritting my teeth, I place the saddle on Ranger, willing my erection to go down. I don’t want him to notice how much his proximity arouses me.

Finally, his soft voice cuts into the tension. “Do you plan on avoiding me until I leave? It’s almost two months away, you know.”

A long, weary sigh deflates against my ribs. Of course, I should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go. I pull the saddle strap tighter than necessary. “Keeping my distance is the mature thing to do.”

“Mature?”

His footsteps approach. Every instinct I possess becomes aware of how close he is. I hate that my body notices. I hate how it craves him. Turning, I find him standing a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His expression is genuinely confused, not flirtatious or provocative.

Just Taylor.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Because I can’t think about you without wanting to spread you open like a flower. “Because the other night shouldn’t have happened.”

Taylor purses his lips, but says nothing.

“Your mother trusted me.” The words feel heavy on my tongue. “She asked me to look after you. I betrayed her trust.”

For a moment, Taylor studies me. “You didn’t exactly betray her.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No.”