Running Wild(A Second Shot Novella)(12)

The bull’s head dropped and he pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing, licking, exploring . . .

She turned her head and offered her lips, her green eyes wide. One look confirmed that she wanted this. Probably not as much as he did, but he’d bet she hadn’t been daydreaming about him in a swimsuit.

“Josie,” he murmured. His fingers wrapped around her slim waist, holding on tight. His mouth touched hers. Eight seconds into the kiss that threatened to break his restraint—he wanted her, now, on the back of a damn bull—her lips parted and she kissed him back, taking their somewhat innocent lip-lock straight into hot and heavy.

She broke away, but his attention, every cell in his body, remained focused on her.

“Have you ever ridden the bull naked?” she asked.

“No.” But her low voice made the sound of cowhide against bare butt seem like a brilliant idea.

“Hmm,” she murmured, glancing down. “Place your hand on my thigh.”

He released his hold on her waist and followed her instructions. Her skin felt so damn good beneath his palm. He inched upward. “For a better grip.”

“You’re going to need it,” she said. “I’m letting go.”

A second later, both of her hands were reaching for the bottom of the material bunched around her hips. Holding tight with his thighs, he withdrew his right hand from the handle and placed it on her other leg.

She pulled her dress over her head and tossed it forward. One of the thin shoulder straps caught on the bull’s right horn. The dress hung there, spinning around.

“Looks like the bull’s waving the white flag,” she said.

Sweetheart, I’m ready and willing to surrender.

“Lose the bra, Josie,” he said gruffly. “Let’s take this naked bull ride all the way.”

But she didn’t reach for the back clasp. Instead, she slipped her hand in the handle and looked over her shoulder at him.

“You’re sure?” she said softly.

“I want you.” And yeah, he supposed he’d known that he would need to toss that fact out there tonight alongside a few others. “I have for a while. I’ve respected your brother, steering clear, but I want to spend the last few hours before I go with you.”

“Noah—” Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected this speech.

But he wasn’t done yet. “You can pull your dress back on and we can just sit here, watch the bull spin, and talk until the sun comes up. But I’d rather take that naked ride.”

She let go and leaned forward, her fingers deftly working to strip off her bra. “Don’t let me fall.”

“I won’t.” He slid his hands up her thighs, over her white underwear to her waist while she tossed her bra to the mat.

“Ah hell, Josie, I want to turn you around and bury my face in your breasts,” he said. And yeah, he heard the raw desire in his voice. “I want to claim every damn inch of you.”

His hands moved higher, brushing the underside of her breast. He couldn’t resist. He had to touch her. Cupping one full breast in each hand, he ran his fingers over her nipples, offering gentle squeezes. She gasped and leaned back, her hips moving with the bull’s rhythm.

“I want to taste you, touch you, fuck you right here,” he growled. “I want you so damn much. But—” He had to tell her. He needed to make it clear. “But I’m still leaving in the morning. Nothing will change that.”

JOSIE FELT REALITY rush in, fighting for space alongside the tantalizing feeling of Noah’s hands on her breasts, his lips on her neck, his body pressed against hers. And this bull—the hum and gentle vibration beneath them threatened to push her over the edge. Until he said those words.

I’m still leaving in the morning. Nothing will change that.

“I know,” she said simply.

His hands stilled, no longer tracing circles and exploring her nipples. Oh no, he’s walking away. He’s heading for the honorable path.

“Is it possible?” she asked, needing to keep him here, mounted on this spinning, bucking machine. “To turn around and face you for the rest of our naked ride?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know. Might depend on how flexible you are.”

“I don’t think that’s our problem,” she murmured. Although that might be a little white lie. She wasn’t Gumby. Not even close. “But you still have your clothes on.”

He released her and she felt his hand moving behind her. A second later, his shirt landed on the faded red section of the surrounding mat. “I can’t get my jeans off on this thing,” he said.

“How about I turn around and release your zipper?” She drew one knee up and froze. “I might need some help,” she added.