Braving The Storm: An Age Gap, Cowboy Romance (Crimson Ridge Book 2)

I’m somehow meant to sit through an entire evening with dinner and newfound friends, and not stare at my uncle, who will most likely be seated directly across from me in one of the booths lining this bar with please-rail-me senseless eyes.

Today was the best feeling ever. I completely lost track of time, indulging Teddy in the world’s longest grooming. Even though I wished I didn’t have to stay on the other side of the door, it also seemed like it would be an incredibly foolish decision to jump into his stall after Lucas Rhodes had specifically said not to.

While we were at the ranch today, the entire experience felt almost like being weightless with how much I enjoyed myself. I mean, time spent up at Devil’s Peak has the same effect on me, but having the chance to hang out on my own, chatting to Teddy and brushing his coat, the whole thing was special in a way I can’t quite put my finger on.

Now, I have to turn my attention to a far more tricky scenario than a horse who might try and take a chunk out of my flesh, given half a chance.

Tonight, I’m supposed to have fun, relax, enjoy a meal, and pretend everything is perfectly normal. Not that I’ve barely come up for air or escaped the bubble of bliss and fucking Storm has indulged me with since we first crossed that invisible line.

If I ever doubted he was actually serious about the cuff being on, meaning it’s on, then I’ve been well and truly educated otherwise.

Working together during the day is like a constant round of foreplay, only for him to proceed to make it a game to corner me and eat me out in extremely compromising places and positions.

He knows my body so well by now that the more risky the moment, the harder I come, and he seems to have made it his personal mission to have me damn near losing my mind and my pussy to him again and again.

At night, well, we’re all over each other, tangled up in whatever this addiction is. Sometimes, he literally won’t stop, chasing me up the bed to the point when I’m shaking and gasping and pleading with him that I can’t take anymore.

Only, he knows by now that I’m a dirty rotten liar.

That cuff could be taken off at any time if I truly, genuinely wanted him to stop.

The insane truth is that I don’t want him to. I don’t care if I’m boneless and limp and can’t feel my legs anymore. All I want is to be used and treated to more helpings of the uniquely filthy yet worshipful concoction of whatever potion this man has pumped into my veins.

He fucks me like some sort of cowboy fantasy, winds me into a frenzy by calling me his toy and his slut, and at the same time, it feels like the tenderest thing he could ever say to me. Afterward, those tattooed hands are so gentle, so caring, so damn careful it makes my blood ache with longing.

I’m in a world of trouble.

Logically, I know it, even while my stupid heart insists on ignoring reality, but my head understands that I’ve strayed onto perilously thin ice.

I’ve lost sight of the shore, risking the chance I could fall and plunge beneath the frozen surface at any moment.

Coming here tonight, I’ve kept an eye out for she-who-lost-her-lip gloss, but our overly friendly server from that night when we came here and grabbed a meal doesn’t appear to be working.

The Loaded Hog remains Crimson Ridge’s one and only option for a meal after dark, and even though it’s prominently set up as a bar, we’ve all made the decision to stick with water or soda tonight. I discovered that Kayce has been completely sober for about a year. He filled me in on a few more pieces of his story while we were out riding up at Devil’s Peak Ranch the other day assuring me he finds it helpful to not try and avoid socializing.

That guy is absolutely the type of person who lives for being in the thick of a crowd, so I get it, he’d possibly struggle far more if he was to simply sit out any occasion like this.

Laughter drags my attention in the direction of the doors, and the arrival of the other members of our party for this evening. Layla bumps shoulders with a girl beside her, who immediately fills the room with a certain energy you can’t help but sit up and take notice of. The two friends wear broad smiles and share an ease with each other that seems more like being sisters than besties—not that I’d know that feeling, considering my own she-devil of a sibling—but they exude the type of energy that is like a sparkling sun catcher.

It’s fun and light, and of course, this is Layla’s best friend, considering how incredible the woman in question is to spend time in the company of.

“Sorry we’re late.” Layla wraps me up tight in her arms straight away. “Sage, meet our city girl, Briar.”

The beauty-queen in question, launches straight in for a hug. She’s flawless, with dark brown skin, a dewy complexion, and silky raven hair that falls in loose waves around her shoulders.

Where Layla looks like she’s walked straight off a photo shoot for horse-girls to swoon over everywhere, in her tan cowboy boots and cute floral-print dress, Sage is dressed all in black. Jeans hug her thighs, a simple jersey molds to her curves, and the matching leather jacket shrugged over her shoulders completes a look that is effortless and chic all at the same time.

She’s so cool I could melt.

“Ok, ok, put the city girl down, let’s go fucking eat, man.” Kayce playfully inserts himself between me and the other two, steering me by the shoulders in the direction of the largest booth. As he does so, he gives Storm a slap on the back. “I’ve been clinging to a bronc all afternoon, and I’m starving. You can bet if I’m hungry, then this asshole here is ready to eat a damn horse.”

“You should totally hit them up, this place will need all the help they can get rebranding.” Kayce waves a fry in the direction of the bar.

Apparently, in the past months, The Loaded Hog has been taken over by new owners after some shit went down last winter that no one seems particularly interested in talking about, but I suspect they all know more than they’re letting on.

“Next time I see them, I can put in a good word with the Hayes boys for you.” He adds, then gives me a shit-stirring grin. “Or maybe, our girl here can set things up for you, since she’s getting friendly with one particular Hayes and all.”

I nearly swallow my tongue.

“I was chatting with the guys when I saw them last. It’s Wes’ younger brother—well, he’s not actually a brother, more like an adopted-in kinda deal—but anyway, he’s the one who bought the business, the premises, the whole kit, and caboodle…” Kayce pauses to dunk another fry in sauce before shoving it in his mouth.

Layla, bless her sweet little cowboy boots, clears her throat and takes control of the conversation before he can continue. “We’re not here to talk about the Hayes boys.” She shoots a look my way with a wink and my pulse eases a little that she knows I’m not interested in any further dates with Wes. Not that she knows the real reasons why, but that’s neither here nor there.

To my left is the man I am doing everything within my power not to pay too much attention to, although I can’t help but stiffen in his presence as Westin Hayes’ name gets dragged into the conversation.

It turns out I didn’t have to worry about staring at him with moon eyes all night from across the table. No, in fact, I have a much more devious situation to contend with.

Storm seated himself beside me and insisted on pressing our bodies as close as possible. I can’t breathe without feeling his muscles and strong body sandwiched against my waist, my hips, and the entire length of my thigh. The heat coming off him simply radiates straight through the soft material of my dress.

I’m struggling to maintain my composure when I feel the vibration of my phone.

My eyes nearly fall out of my head. Firstly, oh my god, I haven’t altered his name in my phone since I first arrived and entered his contact when we exchanged details. Long before things progressed to the point of knowing my toes curl when he drags orgasm after shaking orgasm out of me. Secondly, he cannot be serious about playing this kind of game while we’re surrounded on all sides by people who will surely notice we’re texting each other.

While I’m still staring, dumbstruck at the screen, another message pops up.

Swallowing down the choked noise that nearly bursts out of me, I quickly swipe out of the conversation and lock my phone.

“Everything ok, Briar?” Layla asks, and I wrestle a tight grin onto my face.

“Yep.” I drop my phone into my lap. There is no way in hell I’m going to reply to that. Not while we’re at dinner, and certainly not while he’s seated right beside me.

The next second, I nearly climb the back of the booth like a monkey because this man might look as if he’s busy talking quietly with Colt, but his hand sneaks beneath the table, and a single fingertip grazes the bare skin just below the hem of my dress. My face must turn beetroot red instantly, and only keeps intensifying in color as he continues to steal a teasing touch, carefully hooking the fabric higher on my thigh.

Shitshitshit. I have to grab my soda and focus intently on the clink of ice and bubbles tickling my nose while resisting the temptation to pluck a cube out and run it all over my burning cheeks.

Reaching as slowly and discretely as I can beneath the table, I push at his hand, not wanting to draw attention to this upped level of depravity he seems intent on indulging in.

He doesn’t budge, and I try to shift slightly down the booth in order to put a fraction of distance between us. That only results in him wrapping his palm around the top of my leg, levering every ounce of commanding pressure I can only bite my inner cheek while attempting to ignore.

However, there is a situation between my thighs that I absolutely cannot overlook considering his hand is right there.

I prop my elbow on the table, cradling my chin, and do my damnedest to tune back into the conversation going on all around me.

Layla is smiling brightly, mid-celebration of her bestie. “Tonight is one hundred percent all about Sarge, just the way she likes it.”

The other woman in question raises her glass and shimmies her shoulders.

“Sarge?” I know I’ve been out of it for the past few minutes, but I didn’t think I missed that much of the conversation. Confusion knits my brows together as I look between Layla, Kayce, and Sage, who are seated at the same end of the booth as I am. Surely I’m hearing wrong?

“My lovely bestie here christened me Sergeant when we were little.” Sage rolls her eyes, propping her chin on one hand, mirroring my position. “Apparently, my powers of persuasion were a little lacking in the tact department. I’ve been cruelly unappreciated in my time, I tell you.” She grins broadly, and Layla nearly spits out her soda.

“Oh my god… did you forget to pack your humility in that giant carry-on you brought with you?”

Another buzzing sensation coming from the phone balanced in my lap intensifies the pulsing thud between my ears.

I swallow hard. There’s no possible way he’s serious. As I let my eyes fall to one side, trying to discreetly look his way, all that brings me is a view of him talking leisurely. He’s got his phone on the table in front of him and looks every inch the most relaxed cowboy in this bar.

Probably because he’s got his hand up my dress, and is progressively inching his way higher and higher the longer I sit here bathed in shame for how aroused I’m feeling.

“Briar, are you sure you’re alright… you look a little on edge?” Layla says.

Bury me right here.

“Mmmhm.” I take another giant gulp of soda.

Sage is still mid-way through verbally sparring with Kayce, something about his lack of organization and threats that if she does move here, the first task she’ll be tackling is to force him to learn how to use an electronic calendar. With a chuckle, Sage shrugs, looking around. “There’s just something about these mountains, though. Even though I’m a total slut for my weekly planner, being here brings out the go-with-the-flow in me.”

“Don’t believe a word she says.” Layla points at me and I can’t help but smile at their playful way with one another. She then turns her attention to the man with the golden smile. “As much as I hate to admit it…”

Kayce puffs up immediately, beaming. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you might just be onto something. Happy?”

“Extremely,” he says.

“Do I not even get a say in this, or are you lot of mountain heathens just determined to convert me to rolling around in hillbilly overalls?” Sage steals a fry off Kayce’s plate with a wink, considering hers has already been polished off. He shoves the remainder in her direction, and she blows him a kiss.

Meanwhile, I’m having to do my best not to squeak out loud each time Storm’s fingers continue to explore higher up my thigh.

Can they tell? Oh god. Why that torments me with an ever more insistent ache blooming in my core is a very good question to unpack at a future moment.

“Well, that’s my not-so-secret plan. Admit it, you’d love living here, Sarge.” Layla nods, and her green eyes glitter.

“Look, I know right now I’m on the lookout for clients, but one cowboy bar in Crimson Ridge is not going to be enough to have me moving here permanently.”

“You’ll have the ranch website and social media to work on, too, right?” Layla nudges Colt, who most definitely has his hand on her thigh beneath the table.

If it’s so obvious how they’re touching, surely the entire table can see what the man beside me is doing? My heart feels like it’s stuck somewhere in the back of my throat as I feel another text arrive, and I can’t bring myself to open it. Right now, my every ounce of concentration is firmly on my facial expression, along with the need to breathe through my nose.

Colt speaks up. “Of course, we need all the help you’ll be happy to give us, Sage.”

“I honestly appreciate it, but I could do it all working remotely for the most part.”

“What if I had a contact for a job, a new business starting up that might be the kind of thing you’re looking for, Sage?” The man beside me speaks up, and all eyes fall his way.

As they do so, it’s as if my stomach drops through the floor. I’m a stone statue of terror and horniness, utterly convinced that someone is going to ask where my uncle’s hand is, and why it’s halfway to fondling my pussy.

“Who?” Kayce asks the question hanging in the silence.

Can they really not see what’s going on?

“A friend.” Storm shrugs, and I have no idea how he’s able to play this so cool when I’m about two seconds from imploding. “It would require a lot of discretion, but I’d be able to put you in touch with their business manager to set up a meeting and see if it’s a good fit.”

“That sounds incredible. I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Sage pulls out her phone and starts tapping away to pull up her digital planner.

Storm’s firm hold on me doesn’t relent the entire time they discuss a contact email and how best to get in touch.

“There’s gonna be a whole ground-up marketing, PR, launch sort of bullshit needing to be done. Figured it might be up your street, and having someone they can trust is going to be the most important thing.” He adds.

I brave opening the most recent text, while the table is absorbed with more chatter. The allure of this cowboy is too great, and I’m too much of a fool for him.