But that was a year ago. And my girl has changed a lot since then. She’s all undone right now—just the way I like her. Undone and riding my cock.
“Yes, so much. I’m coming next time.”
I think I love her more with each passing moment.
A deep rumble in my chest sounds as I reach to rub at her clit. “You’re a business owner now. Can’t go following your boyfriend around the country.”
She stops now, glaring down at me. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
I especially love her when she gives me attitude.
I thrust up with a smirk. “Ride harder.” I rub more firmly at her clit, knowing she won’t be able to resist moving again if I do.
I smile when I’m right. She moves again with a playful little shake of her head. “Such a good girl, Summer. Ride it.”
She moans, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m coming next time.”
“Baby, you’re coming a few seconds from now. Let’s see those tits bounce. Go harder. Take it all.”
“Fuck,” she breathes as her head tips back, the sun catching her hair and making it shimmer. I let my hand trail up her body, her waist, the light line in her abdomen from spending her days working out.
I stop when my palm rests on the scar over her chest. And now, the look she gives me is soft, full of love and tenderness. I spent two weeks on the road and she’s acting like I was gone for months on end.
“I hated being away from you,” I confess, loving the way her lips tip up when I say shit like that. “But I love you. And I love watching you come on my cock. Let me watch. Let me see it. Let me hear it.”
She bites down on her puffy bottom lip, and I almost explode on the spot. When she nods, I double my efforts, thrusting up to meet her, circling more tightly on her clit. Her wet heat clenches on me.
And then she’s crying out, “Rhett!” with her head tipped back, lashes fluttering shut, looking like a goddamn angel. It’s still the best sound in the world. And I follow, hand still on her heart, shooting up into her, while she falls forward on to me murmuring, “I love you.”
“So fucking good,” I murmur back, feeling like I should pinch myself. Like I have no idea how I stumbled into having a woman like Summer choose a man like me.
But that’s just it. We’re here, choosing each other every damn day. And I want to choose her for the rest of my life.
I’d have married her that day in the stands when I retired. Right there. On the fucking spot. But I’m greedy like that, and I know she needed time to sort her life out. Hell, I needed time to sort my life out.
Her sister still won’t talk to her. And that’s a wound I so desperately wish I could fix for her. But I can’t. Not yet anyway. And her stepmom is lucky she doesn’t come around because I’d have more than a few words for someone who’s as cruel to my girl as Marina is to Summer. But she and her dad are closer than ever. And everyone in my family—hell, my entire town—loves her to pieces.
She’s become the golden girl of Chestnut Springs since buying out the local gym and transforming it into Hamilton Athletics. The place geared toward training athletes. Or torturing grown men as I like to call it.
It’s good for our small economy. And the ladies from town love it. They say they’re going for a Pilates class, but really just sit around and stare at the hockey players and bull riders who train there during their off-seasons.
Summer flops forward and kisses me, warm and damp and smelling like cherries, fingers tangling in my hair. “I said I love you.”
“I love you too, Princess. You know I do.” I feel her smile against the skin of my chest before she rolls off me with a satisfied sigh.
I press a kiss to the scar on her chest and get up to get a warm cloth.
Over the sound of the running water, I hear her voice. “How much?”
Chuckling as I walk out of the bathroom, I catch sight of her, and the air in my lungs stills. She’s heart-stopping, sprawled on our king-sized mattress. Right now, it’s just a mattress on the floor. The unfinished floor. And she’s surrounded by drywall that needs painting.
Our expansive rancher is definitely not complete yet, but we couldn’t wait to move in. I was sick of her living in the studio loft above her gym. We built on our favorite hookup spot. The spot where we’d drive “the rust bucket”—as my truck has become lovingly known—toss a blanket in the back and make love under the stars. This spot has the best view of the mountains—and that’s what Summer wanted.