I’ve always had a thing for adrenaline—for the things that make me feel indestructible. I felt like I didn’t have anything to lose. Because of that, I used to be fearless.
Until I met Ada Hart.
Now I had something that I was terrified to lose.
And with a little less than a week until Baby Blue was finished, we were getting closer and closer to a point in our relationship where losing her was a real possibility.
I wasn’t worried about distance or the job in Arizona, but I was worried about the way Ada thought about the distance—like she thought that’s all it would take for me to give up on her.
I didn’t know how to prove to her that this was for real.
After Ryder Day, we agreed to try, and things had been good. Great, even. I felt like this was our beginning—like we were on the edge of something big.
It was after seven, and Ada was still at Baby Blue. I had come back to the Big House after my workday to grab her something to eat and take it down to her. I hadn’t seen her yet today.
I was packing up a sandwich, Doritos, some Sour Patch Watermelons, and a Diet Coke when my dad came into the kitchen.
He still had his workwear on, including his signature black cowboy hat.
“Weston,” he said. “Do you have a minute?”
“I was going to take some dinner down to Ada…” I started, but my dad put his hand up.
“It won’t take long,” he said. “I promise.” So I nodded and waited for him to continue. He pulled out a chair across the counter from me and sat down.
“When I decided I was going to build this house”—my dad motioned with his hands, referring to our home—“all I wanted to do was knock the old Big House to the ground.” That surprised me. My dad put so much effort into maintaining many of the original structures on the ranch. It was important to him that we didn’t build new things just to do it or let something fall into disrepair because it might be easier than taking care of it. “But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, even though I don’t have the fondest memories of it.
“You saw something in that house that I never could,” my dad continued. “And I am so proud of you.” As he said it, he pulled an envelope out of his denim jacket and slid it across the counter.
I picked it up. “What is this?” I asked, opening the seal.
“A deed,” he said.
I froze. Did I hear him right? “A deed?” I asked slowly, unsure.
“In your name. For that house. And the fifteen acres around it.” My throat tightened, and I clutched the envelope in my hands. “Your own piece of Rebel Blue.” I felt water pricking at the backs of my eyes.
“Are you serious?” My voice was shaking.
“If my life had gone according to plan, Rebel Blue wouldn’t have been mine,” he said. “And a life without Rebel Blue…” My dad’s voice trailed off. “Isn’t much of a life.
“Someday, August is going to run the ranch, and he’s going to be excellent,” my dad continued. I nodded at that. Truer words had never been spoken. I’d never wanted to run Rebel Blue—that was Gus’s dream. But I wanted to be a part of it. “You deserve a piece of it too.”
Slowly, I opened the envelope and pulled out the papers and saw my name. It really was mine. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away.
I felt I’d proved to myself that I could do something that I and my family could be proud of.
“Thank you, Dad,” was all I managed to get out. “This is…this is just…Thank you.”
“I’m proud of you, Weston.” His voice was gravelly. “Your mom would be too.” Well, damn, wasn’t that just a shot to the heart. When my dad brought up my mom, I knew he was at his most earnest.
I stayed in this moment with my father for a little bit longer until he nodded at the food I’d gotten out for Ada. “Don’t keep her waiting,” he said.
I smiled. He didn’t have to tell me twice.
When I got to Baby Blue, Ada was taking the plastic off a large mirror that had just been mounted on the living room wall. Even without all of the plastic off the mirror, I could tell that it made the room feel much bigger.
It was beautiful in here, but everything paled in comparison to Ada Hart. She was wearing a pair of worn-out overalls and a black tank top.
She saw me in the mirror, and her reflection smiled at mine. I loved that I was the only one who pulled smiles out of her. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I brought you dinner.” I held up the bag.
“And what’s with the goofy smile on your face?” she asked. I set the bag on the ground and walked up behind her. “Seriously,” she said. “You look like your cheeks are going to explode.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist, and she leaned into me. I kissed her shoulder—right in the middle of one of the roses. “I’m happy,” I said. I pulled the envelope out of my back pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes narrowed as she took it from me. I watched her open it in the mirror, and I saw her eyes widen when she read it.
“Wow,” she said. “Wes, I’m so happy for you.” Her eyes were so bright it was almost blinding.
I peppered her shoulder and cheeks with kisses and squeezed her sides. She squirmed and laughed. “Wes!” she squealed. God, I loved it when she said my name. I dragged my hands down her body, and when our eyes met again in the mirror, something changed. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that the most beautiful woman in the world was pressed up against me and that her chest was heaving.
Our eyes stayed locked. My hands stopped at her hips, and I pulled them back into mine. I was already hard for her. I watched her brown eyes widen and her mouth part.
I brought my hands back up her body and over her breasts, which I couldn’t help but squeeze before I unbuckled one side of her overalls and then the other. The straps fell off her shoulders. I pushed them down her body. I had to kneel so she could step out of them.
God, her skin was so fucking soft. I lightly trailed my fingers up the inside of her leg as I stood—goose bumps followed me, and I grinned with satisfaction. When I made it to the hem of her shirt, I pulled it up over her head and threw it to the ground.
I slid my fingers under the waistband of her panties at her hips and looked at her in the mirror. Her face was already flushed and her eyes were glassy. “You’re devastating,” I whispered.
She turned away from the mirror to face me. Her hands slid under my T-shirt, and I had to stifle a jump. This woman and her cold fucking hands. She gave me a knowing smile. “Are we about to fuck in your brand-new house?” she asked coyly, even though the bulge in my jeans should’ve given that away.
“God, I hope so,” I groaned as she dragged her nails down my back. I cupped the back of her head and pushed her back against the mirror as I brought my mouth down on hers. As soon as our mouths met, both of us moaned. Ada clutched at me, and I used my other hand to move her panties to the side. Fuck, she was wet for me. It was like the more comfortable we got with each other, the more our bodies responded—which was saying something, because I’d never been with anyone who made me crazy like this.
I slid two of my fingers inside her, and she bit my bottom lip. From the way she was gripping my shoulders, I knew her nails were going to leave a mark.
I couldn’t fucking wait.
When my thumb brushed her clit, she sighed my name. I needed more.
I slid my fingers out of her, and she whined. I gripped her ass hard with both of my hands—hoping I would leave my own mark—and picked her up. I walked us over to the couch and laid her down. I kissed my way down her body, stopping to take off her lacy white bra. I sucked her nipple into my mouth and her back arched beneath me.
“Can I go down on you?” I asked against her skin.
“Wh-what?” she asked as she lifted her head. She looked dazed.
“I want to go down on you, sweetheart,” I said. “I will sign the deed to this house over to you right now if you let me go down on you.” I might have been kidding, but I didn’t know for sure.
“You’re ridiculous,” Ada breathed. I was. She made me that way.
“Tell me yes, sweetheart,” I said as I kissed her right below her belly button and brought my hands to her hips, then I kissed her over the fabric of her underwear and she moaned.
“Yes,” she said. “Please, please, please,” she chanted.
“I’m the luckiest man alive,” I groaned. I pulled her panties down her legs, and when I threw them across the room, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.
It was us. In the mirror. Hmm.
I made my way off the couch and dragged Ada to the edge of the couch as I went. “What are you—” Ada started.
I knelt in front of her. I pulled my shirt over my head and said, “Look up, sweetheart. Take in the view.”
Her legs were slung over my shoulders, and I pulled her toward me so I could take a long, languid lick up her center. She let out a surprised “Oh,” and I smiled against her. It was then that I knew nothing was ever going to be enough when it came to us.
My dick was already painfully hard in my jeans, and I’d barely even touched her.
I licked her again and then I stopped holding back. I buried my face between her legs, and I devoured her like I was starving.
And I was. For her.
“Oh my god, Wes,” Ada moaned. “Oh my god.” She knotted her fingers in my hair, and her thighs closed around my head. I used my hands to force them back open. I sucked her clit into my mouth and her hips rolled.
I looked up at her. Her eyes were glued to the mirror behind me. Fuck. I sucked on her clit harder. I watched her mouth fall open and her head fall back. Her breaths were coming quicker now. I knew she was close.
I started fucking her with my fingers as I tasted her. She started to buck, and her grip on my hair tightened. What started as her chanting my name dissolved into a string of moans and sighs.
Her pussy tightened around my fingers and her body went rigid. I felt her come on my tongue and continued to wring her orgasm out of her. It wasn’t until she collapsed back on the couch that I sat back on my heels.
Ada’s eyes were on me, and they tracked my every movement as I brought my hand up to wipe her off my mouth before I licked her off my fingers.
“Fuck,” she whispered. I fully intended to crawl up beside her on the couch and lie with her for a while, but Ada had other plans. She grabbed my face and pulled my mouth back to hers. I wondered if she could taste herself.
“Wes, I want you inside me,” she said against my mouth. “And I want to watch again.” Jesus Christ.
I pulled my mouth away from hers, and she started kissing and biting at my neck as she went to unbuckle my jeans. It was my turn to groan.
“Sweetheart,” I moaned before I uttered the worst five words in the entirety of the English language. “I don’t have a condom.” Why the fuck didn’t I have a condom?
Dumbass.
“I don’t care,” she said, and I went still. “I’m on birth control, both of us are clear.”
“Ada…” I hesitated. I didn’t want her to feel pressure or do something she regretted in the heat of the moment.
“Please, Wes.” She pushed my jeans down my legs and cupped my dick over my briefs. “I want to feel you.”
“Are you sure that’s not just the orgasm talking?” I managed, lucky I was even able to get words out when she was pulling down my briefs and wrapping her hand around my cock.
“Orgasm or no”—she licked her way up my neck and bit my earlobe, and she was lucky I didn’t fall to my knees—“it doesn’t change the fact that I want to feel your cock inside me. Without anything between us.”
Fuck. I loved every part of Ada, but I especially loved this part. The bold part. The one that kissed me at the bar, that argued with me, the part that pushed and shoved and brought me to my fucking knees every time it came out to play.
I kissed her then, hard and hot. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes, you have my enthusiastic consent.” I felt her smile against my mouth, and I started walking her back toward the mirror.
When we were close, I turned her around. “Hands on the mirror, sweetheart,” I said into her ear, and then I bit her neck.
Ada leaned forward and her palms landed on the mirror just before our eyes met in the reflection. “Spread your legs,” I said. I trailed my hands down her back and gripped her hip for leverage as I guided myself inside her.
I went slow. Both for her sake and for mine, I wanted this to last. Ada watched me the whole time. Her entire body was flushed.
“You feel,” she moaned as I pushed further into her, “big.” My hips rolled involuntarily, and now I was fully seated inside her.
My breath was ragged. I put my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes. Breathe. “Look at us, Wes,” Ada sighed, and I lifted my head. “Look at how good we look.”
I almost blurted it out then—how I felt about her—but I bit my tongue. Instead, I started to thrust in and out of her.
Again. Again. Again, and again.
Ada’s moans turned into screams, and we didn’t take our eyes off each other as both of our bodies started to shake. “I’m close, Wes. I’m so fucking close.” I thrusted harder but kept the same pace, and Ada’s eyes glazed over.
“Tell me where to come,” I said. We only talked about the beginning—not the end.
“In-inside me,” Ada stammered.
“Fuck,” I grunted. Ada’s eyes started to roll back, so I reached my hand around her and gripped her chin. “Eyes on me, Ada.” Her brown eyes snapped forward. “I want your eyes on me when I fill you up.”
Ada’s body went rigid, and I felt the walls of her pussy squeeze around me. Both of us were careening toward the edge, and I pounded into her recklessly. We were lost in a sea of sighs and moans.
Our bodies shook and went still as both of us hit our peak.
A little while later, Ada and I were wrapped up in each other on the couch. I had one of my hands in her hair and was massaging her scalp. Her eyelids were at half-mast.
“Mmmm,” Ada sighed. “Did you say something about dinner?”
I chuckled. “Glad to see your brain’s still working. I’ll get it.” I untangled myself from her and stood from the couch to grab the bag off the floor.
When I looked back at Ada, my heart did the wild horses thing again.
She looked warm and satisfied. I felt something primal and possessive in my chest knowing that I was the one who made her feel that way.
When I walked back to her, I set the bag next to her on the couch, knelt in front of her, and put my head in her lap. She stroked my hair.
“Ada…” I started. My heart was pounding, and my feelings were climbing up the base of my throat.
“What’s up, cowboy?” she asked.
“I’m going to tell you something.” My head was still on her lap. I knew if I didn’t say something, I’d regret it. Because I knew that I’d rather wait for Ada Hart than be with anyone else.
“Okay…” Ada’s voice sounded worried.
I took a deep breath and lifted my head so I could look at her dark and soulful eyes. “I’m not going to say what I want to say because I know you’re not here yet, but I want you to know that I’m here. And that I’m waiting.”
Her eyes searched my face, and I could see her fighting her impulse to run. That was a good sign—that she was fighting it.
I put my head back on her lap, giving her room to breathe. She started stroking my head again. “Okay,” she whispered. It was the best response I could’ve gotten, and it made my heart swell.
“Okay,” I responded.
