Finally, I had to admit that for the first time since Steph died, I was seriously attracted to a woman.
It was almost a relief.
I wasn’t happy about it, but logically, I knew it was just a biological urge and I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, especially since her presence here was temporary. And who wouldn’t be attracted to Margot? She was beautiful, smart, and kind. And aside from her ignorance about life outside the bubble she lived in, she was nice to be around. She could laugh at herself, tried again if she failed at something the first time, and was actually really good with the horses. I wondered if she’d had experience with them.
“Do you ride?” I asked her when we were in the barn at the end of the day.
“I had a horse growing up,” she said, stroking the neck of the mare I’d been concerned about yesterday.
“Of course you did. Rich girl.” I couldn’t resist giving that braid a tug. What I really wanted to do was wrap it around my fist. Yank her head back. Kiss her neck.
Fuck. Stop it.
“Hey,” she said, pouting. “None of that. I did everything you asked today, didn’t I?” She looked so hopeful, a smudge of dirt on her sweaty forehead, I didn’t have the heart to shoot her down.
“You did fine,” I told her, giving the horse’s nose a little rub, trying to keep my hands busy. But my dick was swelling in my pants, as if owning up to my attraction for her had woken a sleeping beast. And the voice in my head would not stay quiet. I’d like to give you a little rub—right between the legs with my tongue.
“Thank you. And thank you for taking me around today. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” How’d you like to appreciate my big hard cock in your pussy?
“And look!” She laughed. “I got my hands dirty!”
“Oh yeah? Let’s see.” I grabbed her wrists and turned up her palms between us, examining them. “Well, look at that. They’re filthy.”
She giggled. “All of me is filthy. I can’t wait to take a hot…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at my fingers circling her wrists. Then she looked up at me. Those blue eyes wide. Those pink lips open. That pale white throat beckoning.
I knew what I was going to do before I did it.
I knew it was a bad idea. I knew I’d regret it.
And I still did it.
Heart pounding in my chest, I pulled her forward by the wrists until her mouth was so close I felt her breath on my lips.
And I kissed her—lightly at first, my lips barely resting on hers, and then harder, my mouth opening, my hands sliding around her back, over her ass. I pulled her in tight against my hips, my erection trapped between us.
She looped her arms around my waist and rose up on tiptoe, pressing her chest to mine. Our tongues met and I tasted her hungrily, like I’d never get enough. It actually reminded me of the time Pete and I ate all the vanilla ice cream our mom had bought for Brad’s tenth birthday the day before his party. We knew we shouldn’t and we were bound to get caught and punished, but damn if it didn’t taste so good we couldn’t stop. Margot tasted like that—sweet and forbidden at the same time.
Just let me have this, I thought as my conscience pricked. Just this once.
I wound her braid around one hand and pulled her head back, moving my mouth down her throat. I inhaled the scent of her skin, reveled in the velvety feel of it beneath my lips, the salty sweet taste. Slipping one thigh between her legs, I ran my tongue along the pearls resting against her neck. Her fingers dug into my back.
“Jack,” she whispered.
My name—whispered by another woman.
The wrong woman.
This isn’t right.
Get away from her.
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