greedy." He sounded impressed.
She answered with her own growl, tearing open the snap button denim button-down and exposing his chest. The muscles weren't ripped – there was a layer of insulation over the muscles, making his chest amazingly thick, strong, hugely muscled, like a classical statue. She ran her hands over it, then ran her nails over it, hard, leaving trails, following the red lines with her tongue, leaving him shiny with her saliva even as she worked his belt buckle, grinding her backside against the wall for lack of sensation. His jeans parted.
His cock was enormous, thick, full, hard as any she'd ever had. Her fingers met but just barely when she wrapped her hand around it and slid it all the way to the base, leaving the proud crown out where she could lean down and wrap her lips around it.
He gasped, pulled away. "You'll have me coming doin' that," and even as she said, "That's the idea," he had pulled her up, his mouth on hers, tasting of her. His tongue took her mouth, his teeth grazed her lips. She ran her nails down his back, under his shirt.
He turned her again, facing the wall, rubbed himself on her ass. When she pressed against him, hard, he pulled away and tore off the last of the lace. She was naked from the waist down, hot and wet and aching and she pressed herself to him, let him drag her hips into his.
His cock nudged her opening. So hard, so hot, and she was so wet and ready. Even so, the size of him sliding in made her catch her breath, then catch her lip between her teeth. He thrust hard and sank into her up to his balls. His breath on her neck was hot as the bear’s breath. She shuddered. The hands on her breasts, kneading hard, pinching her nipples, were totally human.
She shoved herself back into him, pressing hard, taking him as far as she could, as deep as possible before they both started to rock. She could feel him in every inch of her, pressing, thrusting, bringing wave after wave of pleasure until her knees were too weak to hold her and he pulled her around to face him, forced her legs up around his waist again.
Pulling her a little farther from the wall he lengthened her body so her upper back pressed against the wall, her legs around his waist, his cock sunk as deep in her as he could be.
She could see the sweat on his forehead, the growl on his lips. His eyes were deep, dark gold, watching her as she writhed in another orgasm, feeling the liquid between them overflow. Her legs were wet with their mingled juices when she saw his face change, the look of concentration gone, his eyes half closing as his own massive orgasm shook him.
Colby pumped his hips, giving her ever drop, filling her until Gemma clawed at his shoulders and came one more time.
When he let go of her legs, she slid down the wall and splayed out on the floor. Colby still stood, one hand on the wall above her, his jeans still half on, his cock still half hard. She let her eyes close and reached one hand up to guide him down to the floor beside her.
"We can't stay here long," he said.
"No," she agreed.
"People will come along and find us."
"Yes," she agreed, and this time managed to open her eyes. He was watching her, an expression of mingled lust and maybe love on his face. She thought something had just started today, not just the events of the day, but events setting the stage for days to come.
At the same time, other things had ended. Gemma had no intention of running off with the rodeo, going all country and all bull riders, all cowboy, but she thought she might end up in a few of the cities that Colby did if he didn't invite her to go with. Somehow she didn't think he'd mind.
The door to the past had finally closed, too. Not with a bang. But as a gift. She'd loved her childhood. She'd run in part because it wasn't there anymore and in part because she wanted something new and