Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(57)

Denver rips his shirt overhead, all abs and tanned skin. Then I’m tugging at his waistband, desperate for him. His cock springs to life from under his sweatpants, and I take a moment to appreciate the man he’s become.

Holy fucking shit—praise our lord and savior, or whatever.

He’s always been made up of lean muscle, but as a man, there’s a smattering of brown hair on his chest. And a thin, lickable trail from his belly button down to the promised land. A cock I’ve never gotten over. Maybe it’s because it was the first I ever had, maybe it’s because it was larger than most I’ve seen since, maybe it’s because I’ve always loved the man packing it. And the tattoo that I…

“Wait. Is that a tattoo?” I shift closer to him, squinting to make out the black ink on his thigh—a splotch no bigger than a toonie about halfway between his knee and hip.

Seemingly taken aback, like he’d forgotten it was there, he looks down at his own skin. “Oh…yeah.”

And when I figure out what the tiny design is, my heart does a weird bobbing action, unsure whether to sink or float. “Den…is that a bear?”

“Sheesh, I know Red’s tattoo guy was a bit shady, but I didn’t think he did that bad of a job. Of course it’s a bear.”

I really don’t want to assume. But how can I not? Swallowing hard, I run my finger over it and look up at him.

“W-why?”

He brushes fallen locks of hair behind my ears. “Because Mom told me I could get a tattoo over her dead body. So…I did. Red hooked me up. I fucking hate needles, so it’s never happening again.”

Naturally, he’s fine with the cattle brand embedded into his chest, but a tiny tattoo is too much. He’s always been such a wimp when it comes to needles of any kind.

“I mean, why the bear?”

“That’s a pretty silly question, Bear.” His soft smile matches my own, and his hand finds its way to mine. “You were the only thing I could think of at the time. It was the only tattoo that made sense to me. Right here, where your hand used to rest when we drove around in my truck all summer long.”

I fight the burning in my lungs by kissing him, consuming him, and holding tight to his thigh. Overcome with both the need to have him and the need to never let him go again.

My sister and Cass were right about my tendency to fall hard, fast. I’m already in too deep. If he isn’t all in, my heart will forever be a shattered mess on my bedroom floor. But if I’m a dead girl walking, I may as well savor every damn moment.

Finally breaking free of the kiss, I let myself get a good look at the intricate browns and golds in his eyes. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

“I have condoms in the top drawer.” I point in the direction of my dresser and watch as Denver strolls across the room to retrieve one. Every muscle in his unfairly perfect body ripples and flexes with each step.

“I don’t want to know why you have condoms.” Denver’s voice carries a tinge of jealousy and possessiveness.

I take the packet from his hand, and slowly tear open the wrapper. “We’ve both had sex with other people in the last decade, and I stole free condoms from the hospital I worked at.”

A grumble starts in his chest, but is promptly stopped by me rolling the condom over the tip of his cock. Replaced by a resounding fuck. When it’s rolled to the base of his shaft, I give him two slow pumps.

“But Den, you’re the only one I’ve ever truly wanted. It’s you, only ever you.” I kiss him, stroking him slowly.

“Come here, baby.” A hand cradling my skull, he slowly lowers me onto my back, then does a sweep of his palm under my head, making my hair splay out in every direction on the pillow. “I need you to know something, though.”

I blink up at him, pressing my heels into his hamstrings. I need his thick cock inside me, instead of the position we’re in, with the head inadvertently teasing me. Slipping up through the wetness, lightly grazing my clit, and sliding back down until it’s positioned at my entrance. Over and over like a metronome clock counting down to my collapse.

“If we do this, everything else is over.” He kisses my jaw. “If you’re talking to some prissy bitch boy back in the city, it’s done. I’m not sharing. I’m not risking losing you to somebody else. I’m going to keep you for life this time.”

“There’s nobody else.” I tangle my hands in his hair, forcing his brown eyes to meet mine. “There never was.”

“There never will be, either.” His cock slides into me in one smooth motion, and for a few seconds neither of us moves, allowing me to adjust to him with focused breaths. Despite the slight sting before my muscles relax around his cock, having our bodies intertwined, and his lips pressed to mine, feels like coming home.

All the years feeling like I was missing something, I was homesick. But not for Wells Canyon. I was homesick for him.

For this.

My happy place.

I spent forever trying to forget Denver Wells. And having him claim me again makes me realize it was all for nothing, because I’ve always belonged to him. Arguing that fact was pointless.

With unhurried passion, we kiss and muffle each other’s moans, like he suspected we would. There’s comfort and love in his languid movement when he pulls back out before slowly filling me again. I explore every inch of his skin with my hands, skirting down his torso and cradling his firm ass, while he licks and sucks on my breasts, giving them the attention they so often don’t get because of their smaller size. And pumps into me, slow and steady, like a calm heartbeat.