Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Stacey Espino

up right. His belt was unbuckled, flapping open. There wasn’t an extra ounce of fat on his body, just toned muscle.
    The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Does it bother you?”
    She scowled. “You might catch cold,” she said, trying to disguise her burning need to touch him. It was bad enough she couldn’t avert her eyes.
    “Then you could warm me up, couldn’t you?” He shifted closer, pushing his weight up on his arm. She flinched when he reached for her face. “Stop fighting me, Wendy. I care about you.”
    “I’m not a young woman anymore, Jackson. You could have any girl you want.”
    He cupped a hand behind her head and gently brought her down to his level. “I ain’t interested in girls. And it’s you I want. Only you.” His lips brushed hers, as sweet and tender as the wind caressing the wheat. She melted against him, kissing deeper, savoring the connection. Jackson was a dirty-blond Adonis and what was she? The old maid? But every touch, every kiss, made her feel more desirable, more worthy. For some wild reason, the young cowboy wanted her, so why should she question it?
    She had to reach forward to stabilize herself when he pulled her lower. His shoulder was solid and warm, his bare skin intimate to the touch. All she could think about was how he’d brought her to orgasm with his mouth. Jackson didn’t relent until she was lying beside him on the blankets. Part of her knew she was about to have sex. The unspoken promise was in the air all around them. It had been a long time coming for Wendy, and she was glad her first time with a new man was in the loft and not the house. She’d always associate the house as their home, and maybe the only way for her to move on with life was to start fresh in a new place. But for now, the barn would suffice.
    “You work too hard,” he said once he flipped her under him. Jackson stroked her hair back, studying her face. She saw genuine adoration in his gaze. “I wish I could give you everything you deserve, but I’m not a wealthy man.”
    “When did I ever ask for money?”
    Jackson was young, and a hard worker. He devoted himself to his sport, keeping in shape and travelling the circuit. She would never judge him for his lack of a cushioned bank account. Her only worry was the day he’d head back on the road, chasing the next event…and forgetting her.
    “You don’t understand how it is for a man. I want to be able to provide for you, make you proud to be my woman.” His woman? While part of her revelled in those two little words, another part was terrified. Could she handle a new relationship? She didn’t want to keep wondering, guessing, dreaming. Wendy wanted to take the plunge, to lose herself in the virile cowboy and fuck the consequences. She needed to know what it would feel like on the other side, as a woman who’d moved on. Would she be ashamed of herself for not continuing to live in suspended animation? Or would she realize giving herself to a new man was exactly what she’d been missing?
    Wendy felt a foreign boldness strike within her. She didn’t want to talk anymore. In fact, she was sick and tired of thinking, worrying, and discussing. She wanted to lose herself in Jackson’s strength, to feel him conquer her body and make her his. “There are other ways for a man to prove himself to a woman.”
    He pulled his head back and cocked an eyebrow. “Is there now?”
    She nodded, eager for him to start showing her what he was made of. Her pussy was drowning in her own juices, her nipples beaded, and heart pounding. She couldn’t be any more ready than she was now.
    “In that case, you’ll be begging me to be your man.” Then he whispered against her ear, “No man will fuck you harder than me, darlin’.” She imagined he’d be plenty pent up from all their intimate encounters that left him unsatisfied. He was also young, strong, and used to riding broncs on a daily basis. Wendy felt a slight twinge of trepidation as she imagined