Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)
Ava Hunter
To the girls who need second chances, small town kisses, and starting over, I got you.
Psst.
The next page contains trigger warnings.
Please skip if you wish to avoid spoilerish content.
A Note from Ava Dear Reader, This book contains mentions and scenes of domestic abuse, violence, pregnancy, PTSD related to military service, and anxiety and panic attacks.
If you’re sensitive to subjects such as these, please use this warning to make an informed decision about whether to proceed with the story.
As always, take care of yourself. Your mental health matters.
With big love and all good wishes, Ava
Two quick knocks signal her arrival. Like kerosene straight to my heart. I glance up from stoking the fire, watching as she slips into the cabin that’s been our meeting place for the last six months.
Dakota McGraw.
Resurrection’s golden girl.
And my personal goddamn kryptonite.
“Made you something,” she says, her voice a husky purr. She lifts a plate in the air.
“I don’t—”
“Eat sweets. I know.” A sassy eyebrow arch. “But you eat mine.”
Damn right I do. This cabin couldn’t be situated on a property more aptly named than Eden, because I can never resist her temptation.
With a victorious smile, she lifts the covering on the plate to reveal four cupcakes adorned with thick chocolate frosting. “Brown sugar vanilla cupcakes with chocolate ganache.”
I set the poker aside. “You do all that work to make that little thing?”
She laughs lightly. “Yeah, but you’ll never forget it, will you?”
“No,” I say, my eyes on her face. “I won’t.”
Dakota grins, desire evident in her expression as she sets her purse and the cupcakes on a small side table. The glow from the lantern illuminates the arch of her back, the curve of her ass, promptly turning my cock into a steel rod. Her long black hair swishes against her waist, and I stare. It’s hypnotic as hell.
Goddamn that hair. That body. This girl. This fucking girl who’s healed my wounds, my nightmares, this last year.
And tonight, it all ends.
Every second of today, I’ve been counting down to this moment.
Fuck, but I’m dreading it.
In two quick strides, I cross the room. I grab her waist and tug her to me. Untie her apron and let it flutter to the ground.
“Hey, Hotshot.” With an airy laugh, she launches herself into my arms. I grip her thighs and slide her warm body up mine, her long, lean legs wrapping around my waist.
“Hey, yourself.”
My fingertips trace their way up the curve of her ass. I barely get her mouth on mine before she’s pulling back, gasping, “How’s Charlie?”
“He choked down some dinner tonight, so not a total loss,” I say as I kick off my boots. The last thing I want to do is talk about my brother. My broken idiot brother.
Patching a man back together is easy. Watching my brother drown himself in a bottle of Jack has never been more painful.
Mouth on her neck, I back her up to the bed.
A laugh sparkles in her dark brown eyes. “Whatever happened to discipline?”
“Fuck discipline,” I growl, tightening my grip on her waist.
I’m a soldier. A man of rules. Secrets. But when it comes to Dakota McGraw, I’ve broken every single one of them.
“I’ve waited all day for this,” she whispers, her graceful fingers holding my face.
My entire goddamn life.
“Me too.” With that, I slam my mouth onto hers, my tongue tasting every inch of her sweet, sugar-spun mouth. We melt into the kiss, and it lights up the shadows inside of me, the wild, insatiable need for this woman.
Impatiently, I lower her to the mattress. And then she’s everywhere. A swirl of wild hair and sweet breath. Cream and honey. Her frantic hands tremble as she works at my belt buckle, my zipper.
She gets on her knees in front of me and swallows me up. I make a sound like a wild animal, the noise echoing through the cabin. Her dark eyes stay locked on me as she works me over. I curl my hands in her hair, tangling it, and a breathy plea rises in the back of her throat. I can see down the front of her dress, those gorgeous breasts bouncing as she sucks me off. It has me ravenous. Has my cock hard as steel.
“Goddamn, Koty, you’re so fucking pretty on your knees,” I rasp. “Taking every single inch of me.” Dakota bats her eyes, and that, plus the combination of her rosy, pouty lips sucking down my cock, has me just about ready to let loose.
I take her arms in my hands and jerk her up. As much as I love her on her knees, I want to be inside her.
“Fuck, but I need it too, baby,” I hiss, groaning at how sinfully sweet it is to see the lust building in her eyes.
No longer patient, I strip her bare. Off comes her dress, bra, panties. My gaze rakes possessively down her naked body, across her face. Curves like a goddess. Eyes black like the starless sky at night.
I pull her close and lock her in my arms. My hand drifts, a finger parting the damp, dark curls around her pussy. Dakota moans and twists restlessly when I find her clit. I stroke the sensitive bundle of nerves, her lower body grinding down on my hand. She’s so wet, so swollen, so open and unguarded, that my brain goes numb. Her breath shakes, she whines my name, and then she stiffens. Slick sweetness drips down my hand as she comes, her head falling back on her shoulders.