Chapter 30 Vignette 29
I came to the ranch to escape. That’s what I told myself when I packed a single suitcase, tossed it in the back of my car, and drove for seven hours straight without stopping. I needed the silence. The air. The space to breathe again.
Uncle Gary said I could stay as long as I liked—so long as I didn’t mind the smell of hay and horses. I didn’t. It was the first scent in weeks that didn’t remind me of my ex.
I arrived just before sunset. The ranch sprawled endlessly beneath a sky blushing orange and violet, the land stretching out like it had nothing to prove. It was quiet… peaceful. Except for him.
I saw him first behind the stables—shirtless, arms tense as he gripped a shovel, sweat slicking the muscles in his back. He moved like he was trying to outrun something. And for a second, I forgot what I was running from.
He glanced over his shoulder and caught me staring.
“Lost?” he asked, his voice a gravelly drawl that didn’t hide the amusement beneath it.
“I—uh—no. I’m staying here. Gary’s niece.”
His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t smile. “Didn’t know Gary had family coming in.”
“He probably didn’t think you’d care.”
That earned a smirk. “Fair enough.”
He set the shovel down, took slow steps toward me, each one eating up the space like he had every right to it. To me.
“You look like city trouble,” he said, eyes dragging down the length of my sundress.
“And you look like someone who should mind their own business.”
“Problem is,” he murmured, stopping just a foot away, “you made it mine the second you stepped on this land.”
I swallowed, heat crawling up the back of my neck.
“You got a name?” I asked, though my voice barely came out.
“Colt.”
Of course it was.
He reached past me to grab a bottle of water, and in the split second his body brushed mine, I felt something shift—like the ground wasn’t quite so steady anymore. He didn't say another word, just gave me one last look. A heavy one. Then turned and walked away.
But something told me that wouldn’t be the last time Colt would have me cornered against a stable wall, with nowhere to run.
That night, I searched every inch of the guest room. Under the bed, inside my duffel bag, even the jeans I’d tossed in the corner hours ago. Nothing.
I groaned, pressing my palms to my face.
Where the hell was it?
Then it hit me—I'd left it in the stables. That little leather journal I scribbled in when I couldn’t sleep. I’d brought it out with me earlier, thinking maybe I’d write a few lines after exploring the horses. I must’ve dropped it near the tack bench.
Without bothering to change out of my cotton sleep shorts and tank top, I slid my feet into boots and slipped out into the night. I felt a little too excited for a journal. I didn't know it but maybe the main excitement was seeing Colt again, that's if he would even be out so late.
The air was cooler now, the kind that hugged your skin and whispered things you couldn’t quite name. The ranch was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood and the distant rustle of animals settling in.
I pushed open the stable door—and to my surprise, Colt was there.
Leaning against a stall with his arms folded, his hat tilted low, one leg crossed over the other. The soft glow of the overhead lamp lit his profile in warm golds and shadows.
He looked… unbothered. Like he belonged to this place in a way I never could.
I cleared my throat. “Didn’t think I’d see you again tonight.”
He looked up, his eyes dragging slowly over me. “Didn’t think you’d come sneakin’ back here in pajama shorts.”
I rolled my eyes but felt the burn creep up my thighs anyway. “I left something.”
“You mean that little book with the leather tie?” He nodded to the tack bench behind him. “Found it earlier. Figured you’d want it back.”
I stepped forward to grab it, but he didn’t move.
Neither did I.
“Do you sleep here?” I asked, realizing how late it was.
He chuckled softly. “Only when I got a reason. Sick horse tonight. She’s been colicky. Needs someone watching her just in case.”
I glanced toward the stall beside him and saw a chestnut mare shifting uneasily.
“Oh… that’s sweet of you.”
“Sweet?” He arched a brow. “That’s what you call a man covered in sweat and hay?”
My mouth curved. “Guess it depends on the man.”
The silence between us thickened. Not awkward. Not tense. Just charged.
“I should let you get back to it,” I said, stepping forward to take the journal—but he reached for it at the same time. Our fingers brushed.
Neither of us pulled away.
“I don’t think you came back just for that,” he said lowly, eyes locked on mine.
“I did,” I lied.
He stepped closer, the heat of his body sinking into mine like a slow brand. “Could’ve waited till morning.”
I swallowed. “Couldn’t sleep.”
His gaze flicked to my lips. “Me neither.”
I didn’t know who leaned in first. Maybe it was both of us. Maybe it was the night, or the quiet, or the scent of hay and him that dragged me under. But the air between us snapped taut—like something had finally given way.
When he brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek, his fingertips lingered just a moment too long.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I whispered.
“No. But damn, it feels like the only one.” He smiled, slow and sure. He pulled me closer by my waist, “I have to admit you're the most beautiful girl I've ever come across.”
My eyes darted to his both eyes and then down to his lips. They were pink and plumpy, glistening with sweat. My cheeks turned red at his words and my gaze fell down to his exposed chest. I noticed it pound fast—faster than normal. I placed my hand on it and looked back at him. His dull eyes brought a sense of calmness to my entire body and I felt myself go weak in the knees.
“Do you mind if I steal a kiss?” He asked, staring at my eyes with hope.
I chuckled and barely nodded before he grabbed the back of my head and pressed his lips to mine. Holy fk, his lips were so soft. I shut my eyes and began savoring
his lips like the dinner I had earlier. His hands caressed my waist and I could feel it extend to my as.
We broke apart for air and he whispered to me, “do you feel anything down there? Because you just turned me on and I won't let you go until you make me relax again.”
I took his hand without responding. I dipped it into my shorts, widened my legs and made his finger touch my psy lip. He gasped as he felt my wetness.
“Holy sht!” He exclaimed.
He didn't bother pulling out his hand he glided two fingers into my psy at once and dipped in and out very fast. My eyes widened as it was a bit too sudden. He pushed me to the stable wall and I raised a leg, twirling my hips, my hand on his head. Soft pleasurable moans escaped my lips and the resting horses nearby shifted uneasily, clearly disturbed by the noise.
Then I had enough of his fingers so I pushed him backward. I went on my knees, undid his trouser zip and took out his hard shaft. My touch alone made his legs shake and he had to locate a bench immediately. I adjusted to his new position and took him in my mouth. He groaned and pulled my hair backwards, holding my head in place while I went deep throat.
The air was thick with moans and mumbling. From the other end of the stable, the sick horse let out a low, throaty whinny—her restless hooves scraping against the floor as if disturbed by the tension vibrating through the air.
I didn't care. At that moment I only had one aim—to make sure Colt was completely satisfied before leaving. Quicker than expected, I felt his seed release in my mouth and he gasped with satisfaction. I didn't want to stop eating his ck but I had to leave so he could take care of the m sick horse.
I swallowed the fluid in my mouth and shot up to my feet. He came on his feet too and dressed himself up.
“I must leave now, you sure have a lot of work to do here.” He nodded with a flirting smile, his dull eyes drove me crazy.
“I sure do.”