When The Night Changes

Chapter 2: Define Fooling Around

“Great vocals,” a feminine voice remarks softly as she slips into the bar.


Jake only smiles in response, effortlessly maneuvering around the petite figure before turning his attention back to me. “My place isn’t too far from here,” he says. “Do you mind walking?”


“Not at all,” I reply, breathing in the warm, humid air. It’s another typical summer evening in Tulsa—sticky and thick with heat. Unfortunately, my earlier choice of a sweater, made for the frosty bar, now feels like a mistake.


The downtown streets are alive with energy, as people of all kinds come and go. Couples stroll hand-in-hand, their movements unhurried, while others dart across the streets, jaywalking with a sense of urgency. Jake and I fall somewhere in between, our pace casual yet underpinned with anticipation. At least, I feel that way. I sense a quiet excitement in him too, though his agreeable smile remains composed, steady.


He leads us slightly uphill along a familiar concrete sidewalk. I’ve walked this path countless times before—but never with him, and never with the expectation of… well, what’s to come.


“What made you change your mind?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair from my face as we move under a streetlamp’s glow.


He glances my way, fighting a smirk. “I’m not sure I can answer that without sounding like a complete jackass.”


“Now I really want to know,” I say with a playful laugh.


“Alright.” He kicks a stray twig along the sidewalk with the toe of his cowboy boot. “I think… watching you interact with your friends earlier—when they were singing—it sparked something in me. It wasn’t just entertaining; it was moving. I kept thinking, this girl must be pretty special, you know? To have friends sing to her with so much passion and heart… it was incredible to watch. And suddenly, I just wanted to be close to you. Like, really close.”


“So, to put it simply, you were unexpectedly turned on?” I ask, a grin tugging at my lips.


Jake laughs, the sound low and warm. “I was trying to give you the polite version.”


I smile and playfully nudge his shoulder. “I know, and honestly, I think that’s really sweet.”


He shakes his head, his smile softening as his gaze shifts to the pavement ahead. “I don’t get flustered easily, you know. I’ve got a bit of a temper, sure, but it takes a lot to knock me off balance.”


His words take me by surprise, and I feel a flicker of vulnerability between us. “You and me both,” I admit earnestly, my tone matching the honesty in his.


The air between us feels charged now, the easy banter slipping into something deeper. For a moment, neither of us speaks, letting the quiet pulse of the city fill the space as we walk side by side.


A slight breeze teases my face, offering a fleeting reprieve from the oppressive heat. But the relief is short-lived. Still uncomfortably warm, I tug my sweater over my head and tie it around my waist, revealing a fitted black sleeveless top.


I feel Jake’s eyes on me, casting a quick, appreciative glance.


“Why do I feel like you’re doing my job for me?” he says with a lighthearted chuckle.


I smile sheepishly, brushing a hand over my arm. “I’m sorry. I’m just so hot.”


“Yes,” he drawls, his voice rich with charm. “You certainly are, darlin’.”


A blush spreads across my cheeks, my heart skipping at his playful endearment. Before I can respond, Jake’s gaze shifts ahead, his expression suddenly alight with interest.


To my surprise, his hand finds the small of my back, his touch warm and steady. “Come here,” he says, gently guiding me to the right. “I wanna show you something.”


His touch stirs something deep within me, a pull I can’t resist. At this moment, I’d follow him anywhere.


We step off the main path, rounding the corner of a weathered brick building, its deep, rustic red color softened in the moonlight. Ahead, a sandy-colored stucco archway comes into view, an unexpected structure nestled between two buildings. The archway frames a short, dark stone pathway leading about fifty feet to an ivy-covered door at its end.


“What is this place?” I ask, stepping through the arch, curiosity taking over.


“I don’t really know,” Jake admits, trailing behind me. “I found it one day, couldn’t make sense of it. But it felt… special. Come here, feel this,” he says, pressing his palm against the brick wall.


I follow suit, my fingers brushing against the textured surface. “It’s cold,” I murmur, surprised by the almost icy chill. “Like, freezing cold. How is that possible?”


“Weird,” I muse, pulling my hand away. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful, though—this whole little spot.”


“Yeah,” he says, his voice softer now. “I thought so too.”


Leaning back against the cool wall, I take in the unusual charm of the alley. The glowing white moon casts its light across Jake’s face, highlighting his full mouth and strong chin. His hat dips low, shielding his eyes, but even in the dim light, they’re captivating.


“What?” he asks, catching my fixed gaze.


“Nothin’,” I say with a faint smile. “Just admiring your handsome face.”


His wide grin is instant and dazzling, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. Towering over me, he tilts his hat up, stepping closer until there’s little space left between us.


“Then it’s only fair I get a better view of yours,” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing rumble, his intentions clear.


I breathe unevenly, anticipation thick in the air. “How is it?” I murmur, moistening my lips in quiet yearning.


Jake’s advance is slow, deliberate, his eyes studying my face with a depth that makes my pulse race. “Best view of the night,” he whispers near my ear, sending goosebumps racing down my neck and arms.


I start to mumble something, but Jake’s lips part, cutting me off. He presses his mouth to mine with a firm, commanding kiss—his desire for me palpable in his assertive approach. His method is steady, controlled, as if his want is shaping every movement. I savor his confidence, letting him take the lead as his tongue moves with a rhythm that has me melting.


Reaching for his neck, my fingers curl around the back of it, while my other hand rests against his chest, feeling the subtle, soft pressure of his tongue swirling against mine.


Suddenly, Jake presses himself into me, a movement so sudden yet thrilling that it catches me by surprise—in the best way. He secures my body against the wall, his hands grasping my hips with a hunger that matches my own. The kiss turns more heated, more aggressive. There’s a thrill building within me, a deep, intense appreciation for how he’s taking control, making every moment feel like the hottest, most thrilling experience of my life.


Before I can fully process it, I feel Jake’s fingers fidgeting with the button of my jeans, stirring a wave of excitement and anticipation within me. With a swift yet careful motion, his hand slides under my jeans and panties. I gasp as he enters me with a single finger, then thrusts twice, making my body tremble with desire. In response, I move my hand to the lower part of his body, feeling the unmistakable outline pressing against his jeans. A low moan escapes him, sending a rush of heat through me. The sound sends a slow-building smile curling on my lips.


“How much further is your place?” I murmur, my breath shallow and desperate.


“It’s not far,” he answers, his voice strained with equal urgency.


Withdrawing his hand, he pauses at the most sensitive spot, teasing me by flicking his finger along the edges, sending jolts of sensation through me. I reciprocate, guiding my hand to the bulge in his jeans and rubbing it firmly.


“You’re killing me, Smalls,” he murmurs, referencing one of my favorite movies. I can’t help but laugh softly in response.


Matching my smile, Jake sweetly fastens the buttons on my jeans and picks up my sweater, which had fallen to the ground. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, his hand finding the curve of my hip, guiding me forward.


Back on our original path, we walk closer, faster now, the urgency palpable. Our steps echo the heat between us, each of us consumed by the anticipation of the next kiss, the next touch. There’s a hunger stirring deep inside me, a hunger that’s only intensified by the passion we’ve already shared. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more.


It’s possible that the time since my last intimate experience is amplifying my desire, but I think it’s more than that. It’s Jake—his unpredictability, his commanding presence, the way his actions never fail to surprise and excite me. His behavior, while sometimes mercurial, has worked entirely in my favor.


We round a corner under a dim streetlight, and my eyes fall on a hardcovered book, face down, its pages spread out on the sidewalk. The book nerd in me can’t help but pause and pick it up. I glance at the title in my head: Emmanuelle.


“Good book?” Jake asks, his voice light.


“If you like erotic novels,” I answer, continuing our brisk pace.


“Can’t say I’ve ever read one,” he admits, his tone playful.


“It’s an older read, late fifties, I think. I haven’t read it, but I know it was pretty scandalous for its time.”


“Rather weird that it was just left splayed out here, don’t you think?” he muses.


“Not that weird. There’s a bookstore across the street up ahead,” I say, pointing toward my parents’ store. I can’t help but notice how rundown the front looks—the faded sign, the peeling brick. It needs a facelift badly. A new coat of paint, a fresh awning—it would make such a difference, but those things take money. Money my parents don’t have. For now, the building remains frozen in time, looking exactly as it did when my parents bought it twenty-five years ago.


“Wait, do you mean your bookstore?” Jake asks, guiding me away from a pile of broken glass with a hand.


“Yes,” I clarify. “Well, my parents’ store.”


“I never realized it was there.”


“I like to call it a hidden gem. Most people are pleasantly surprised when they come in.”


“I can see why,” he says with a crooked smile. “Do you know the coffee shop almost catty-corner from the bookstore?”


“Yeah, I’ve seen it. Why?”


“I live above it,” he says casually. “A small studio I rent from the shop owner.”


“Wow,” I say, puffing out a surprised breath. “We’re so close. Funny how we’ve never run into each other before.”


Jake gazes ahead thoughtfully, grunting in agreement.


As we reach the corner, across the street from Hummingbird Books and Nooks, I find myself staring at my parents’ store with peculiar concern.


Jake notices my bewildered expression and gently asks, “Everything okay?”


“There’s a light on in the back of the store,” I explain.


“Do you wanna check it out?”


“No, it’s fine. I probably just forgot to switch it off,” I reply, attempting to wave off my unease.


Jake nods softly, absorbing my answer. Then, with a thoughtful tilt of his head, he adds, “How about we go check it out anyway? Give you some peace of mind.”


Relief washes over me, and I touch his arm in gratitude. “Thanks,” I murmur, smiling as his warm, inviting eyes meet mine briefly before flickering away, almost bashfully.


The back door of the bookstore is more of a side door, leaving it somewhat exposed to street access. As we curve around the building, I spot a disheveled man pushing a shopping cart. Though he appears harmless, I feel thankful for Jake’s solid presence beside me.


Using my phone’s flashlight, I punch in the five-digit code on the keypad to let us in. It’s a convenient feature my parents insisted on, especially after I managed to lock myself out multiple times.


Without hesitation, Jake and I step inside the musky-scented building. Darkness engulfs us for a moment before I flip the switch, bathing the office in pale yellow light. My face flushes as I glance around, realizing the clutter from earlier is still scattered across the room—books, games, and random merchandise in disarray.


Embarrassed, I begin picking up, but Jake gently stops me. “Let’s check things out first,” he says, his tone steady.


“Good idea.” I nod, redirecting my focus.


“I’ll be right back,” I murmur, heading toward the doorway.


“Hold up,” Jake insists, catching up to me. “We should check the front entrance first—make sure it’s secure.”


“OK,” I agree, pleased with his level-headedness.


In the main storeroom, the air is fresh and pleasant, still carrying the faint citrus scent of the candle I lit earlier. The space feels welcoming despite the shadows cast by tall bookshelves. Toward the front entrance, the moonlight filters through the elongated glass windows, casting a soft, silvery glow on the gray carpet. Jake and I follow the luminous path, stopping at the brightest spot.


Jake jiggles the front door handle, testing its lock. “Nobody’s getting in without obvious force,” he confirms.


“Good,” I reply, a wave of relief settling over me. “The back corner light is still on. I’ll go turn it off, and then we can leave.”


Hoping Jake follows, I casually pass by the shelves, trailing my fingers along their edges. I don’t need to look behind me to know he’s there. His woodsy scent drifts toward me, comforting and magnetic. Again, I let my fingertips graze the shelves, brushing lightly over the spines of books in the sci-fi and fantasy section. A small smile tugs at my lips.


Jake remains quiet, but his presence makes my thoughts spin. What’s he thinking?


In the back corner, a cozy reading nook comes into view. A lamp casts a warm glow over two faux leather chairs and a light-colored desk flanked by black stools. A large navy rug adorned with colorful hummingbirds anchors the area, and on the edge of the rug sits a giant purple beanbag.


“This is quite the setup,” Jake says, admiration evident in his voice.


“I think I have a soft spot for young adult fiction,” I admit. “But apparently, I’m not the only one. This is the most popular section in the store. I wanted it to feel the most inviting.”


“You definitely succeeded,” he notes warmly. “That beanbag is massive—and awesome.”


“Isn’t it?” I grin. “It could totally fit two people.”


“Oh, easily,” he says, his gaze lingering on the beanbag.


Feeling bold, I lean against the oak desk and grip its edge with my fingers, my eyes drifting over Jake slowly, from head to toe and back again, appreciating him like he’s the most irresistible dessert on display.


Jake notices and, with a playful smirk, says, “If you’re trying to hint at something, I’m gonna need you to be a lot less subtle.”


I suppress a laugh by sucking my lower lip between my teeth. “You ever fooled around in a bookstore before?” I ask, trailing a finger to my lips flirtatiously.


Jake relaxes into a wide smile, letting a moment of silence stretch as if teasing me with thoughts he won’t share.


I tilt my head, feigning suspicion. “You have, haven’t you?”


Jake steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “Define ‘fooling around,’” he asks, his smirk turning more mischievous.


“You know exactly what I mean,” I reply, sass creeping into my tone.


He chuckles, his hands finding my waist. The warmth of his touch spreads through me, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.


“In that case,” he murmurs, his voice soft, “my answer is no. I was only teasing.”


“Really?” I press, narrowing my eyes.


“Really,” he nods, his hand brushing the side of my face. His thumb lingers softly at my temple. “But I have a feeling that’s about to change.”


“I really hope so,” I confess, tilting my face toward his.


Like a painter’s slow, deliberate stroke on a blank canvas, our lips meet. The kiss is drawn out, deliberate, a smooth rhythm that barely makes a sound. My heartbeat seems louder than the soft press of his mouth against mine.


Jake holds back his tongue, but the tenderness in his kiss promises so much more. I struggle to wait, my body aching for him to take it further.


“I want more of you,” I murmur, my voice husky with need.


“I know,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine before planting an innocent kiss on my forehead.


Growing impatient, I kiss him and slip my tongue into his mouth, eager for more. He welcomes the motion with a soft moan, his hand unexpectedly finding its way to my chest.


A sound of pleasure escapes me as I feel the heat of his touch, my own hand drifting toward his groin, fueled by the same hunger. As expected, the area is swollen with excitement. I briefly fondle his package noticing how full it feels. Somehow this excites me more.


For a few seconds, my lips are left lonely as Jake presses soft kisses to my bare shoulder. It’s maddeningly distracting, yet I somehow manage to use the moment to unbuckle his belt and jeans.


His lips curve into a smile as he returns to mine, the warmth of it stirring something deep inside me.


A second later, I tug at his jeans, determined to push them down. But when my bold attempt fails, a quiet curse escapes my lips.


Jake chortles, then kindly assists me, pulling his pants and boxer-briefs past his rounded butt.


My eyes grow wide at the display below me. In fact, I can feel my pulse accelerate. Though I’m intimidated by the size of Jake’s erection, it doesn’t stop me from lowering myself down to my knees. I take hold of his thickness with my hand, stroking the shaft gently a few times. A groan escapes his lips, giving me the courage to lick his throbbing tip. He lets out a quiet f-bomb as I lick up and down his veins. After I take the majority of him into my mouth, his head rolls back in pleasure. The louder he becomes, the more comfortable I become. Eventually I let my mouth do most of the work, my hand still holding him, jerking him at times. Jake takes my hair into his hands and makes a makeshift ponytail, allowing me to pick up the pace with ease.


His excitement brings me more gratification than I expect. Never have I felt so turned-on while going down on a guy. I don’t know if it’s the sound of his moan or if it’s just Jake. Either way, it’s a good time for both of us.


“Did you hear that?” he asks, his voice low as he halts my movements.


“Hear what?” I reply, wiping my mouth dry.


“I heard a thud.”


“It was probably just a book falling,” I suggest, trying to dismiss it.


His brow furrows slightly. “Does that happen often?”


“Not really,” I admit with a shrug. “But I don’t know what else it could be.”


He nods, though his gaze lingers as if still unconvinced. Then, with deliberate care, he helps me to my feet.


“Come here,” he says, his voice soft yet insistent, fingers sliding to the zipper of my jeans. “It’s my turn.”


A flush of uncertainty rushes through me, and I rest a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to,” I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper.


“Oh but I want to,” he expresses eagerly, pulling my jeans and underwear to my ankles.


After propping me on the desk, Jake lowers himself to his knees. I hold my breath, anticipation coursing through me, the buzzing sensation in my lower half growing stronger. But my legs, tense and rigid with anxiety, refuse to cooperate, making it hard to find comfort. The tension gripping me feels like an invasive weed, its roots tangled in the scars of past toxic relationships.


“You can relax,” Jake says, noticing my tense posture. “You’re in good hands, I promise.”


“I know,” I breathe deeply, letting his words settle into me like truth.


His hand slides gently up my inner thigh, sending a shiver of delight through me. He smiles in response as if it’s just the beginning of many pleasurable things. As his face approaches my wetness, I close my eyes and anticipate his warm breath. His lips stop between my inner thigh and outer lips, kissing the area so light and delicate. Another kiss meets my pulsating middle, this time on my soft folds. Amazed by the feeling, a sharp gasp escapes me.


Following more scattered kisses, is Jake’s generous tongue, gliding and exploring my wet lips. I start to pant with the flickering sounds of his tongue, inserting it’s way in and out of my warm center. My clit is the last area to find recognition. On purpose, I suspect. He teases me with several light sweeps, as if he wants me to beg for more steady pressure. I moan louder, hoping he’ll comply. No such luck.


“You enjoying yourself?” I ask in a shaky breath.


He chuckles before spreading my inner folds with his fingers, finally applying an energetic tongue. As he licks thoroughly. I feel my body tense up again, but now it’s the good kind, the culminating kind. My hands find Jake’s head, grasping his wavy hair with my fingers. Somehow this urges him to perform at a quicker pace, drawing a loud gasp from my already opened mouth.


On the verge of a climax, I tilt forward and lift Jake’s head. His brow quickly furrows, unsure of my interruption. The truth is, I’m not ready for the intense pleasure to end. I want more from him first.


“I want you inside of me,” I say, caressing the top of his head.


“OK,” he replies, standing from his knees, unable to cover is agreeable smile.


Realizing my jeans are a bit of a hurdle, I decide to turn over on the desk. It’s hard not to be a little self conscious as my bare bottom is showcased.


“Is this OK?” I ask shyly.


“Darlin’, don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s probably the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard.”


I burst into laughter, amused by his brutal honesty, but also flattered that he enjoys the view. What I’m not prepared for is the light swat to my butt, and I let out a surprised squeal.


“No laughing,” he scolds, but when I glance back at the toned torso behind me, I catch the pleased smirk playing at his lips.


“You realize all I want to do now is laugh, right? Just to get you to spank me again.”


He shakes his head, a knowing smile curving his lips. “It’s always the quiet, thoughtful ones.”


Amused with his analysis of me, I giggle into the desk and anxiously await his response. I’m not disappointed. His second swat is more of a clasp, as his hand keeps a tight grip on my butt cheek. It arouses me tenfold, creating more wetness between my legs.


“You ready for me?” He murmurs.


“As soon as you put a condom on,” I reply sweetly.


“Oh shit,” he exhales loudly. “I almost forgot.”


As Jake retrieves his wallet from his jeans, I can’t help but smile. The fact that he let that slip makes me think it’s been a while since his last sexual encounter.


“Take it slow at first,” I request, watching the condom wrapper fall to the ground.


“I will,” he answers, taking hold of my hips.


I brace myself for Jake’s insertion, slightly nervous about his substantially large size. I’m able to relax my grip on the desk once the head of his swollen member slides in, the ease of it giving me instant tingling pleasure. But as I feel more of him enter me, I wince, struggling to handle the tight pressure.


“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft with concern.


Willing to push through the pain, I lie. “Yes, I’m fine.”


I’m not sure he believes me, as his movements remain slow and gentle. It’s a pace I have no reason to object to—quite the opposite, in fact.


Eventually my body adjusts to his significant presence, granting me more enjoyment. Taking note of my heavy breathing, Jake begins to thrust faster. As a result, I no longer feel the need to muffle my moans, and Jake’s rhythmic grunts are easier to hear. The rapid penetration creates noisy slapping of skin sounds—sounds that increase my desire for reaching an orgasm. I’m finally ready for it.


Momentary disappointment finds me as Jake slows his pace unexpectedly. Leaning over, he reaches under my shirt.


“Oh, I love that.” I report, hoping he’ll continue fondling my breasts.


“And this?” He asks, tugging on my nipples with his fingers.


“Yesssss.” I draw out in a groan.


Pressing himself deeper inside of me, Jake nuzzles his mouth to my neck, sucking the side of it a few times.


“You feel amazing,” he whispers In my ear, heightening my lust for him.


Before I can even respond, a dark furry creature leaps onto the desk, startling both of us. I’m the only one who screams in surprise, which sends the animal scrambling to the ground.


Jake is the first to pull up his pants, clearly alarmed by the unexpected interruption.


“What the hell was that?” he asks, scanning the room.


“Oh crap,” I cry out, realizing my mistake. “It’s Dexter.”


“Who the fuck is Dexter?” he demands, his eyes wide.


Frustrated with myself, I hurriedly pull up my jeans. “He’s a stray cat I let in a couple of months ago. He’s super skittish and hardly ever comes out. I completely forgot about him.”


Jake sighs, his posture finally relaxing.


“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, my voice tinged with embarrassment.


“It’s fine,” he replies, watching Dexter scurry away. “Better a cat than a fat rat… or a dad with a bat.”


I giggle at his analogy. “I’m glad you’re not upset.”


“Not at all,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on my face with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “You ready to get out of here?”


“Yes. Absolutely,” I exclaim. “Take me away, cowboy.”


Taking me at my word, Jake scoops me up and throws me effortlessly over his shoulder.


“Hold up,” I laugh, wriggling as I try to right myself. “I need to turn the light off.”


“I say leave it on. Adds a bit of security.”


“OK,” I reply, my eyes lingering on the view of his firm behind.


“Hey, Avery,” Jake says, his voice suddenly deep and unexpectedly stern.


“Yeah?” I answer, curiosity piqued.


“Don’t even think about squeezing my ass,” he warns, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone.


“Ha. Then maybe you shouldn’t tempt me,” I retort with a grin.


He chuckles softly, his hand resting casually on my vulnerable backside as he carries me toward the office.


Outside, the air is slightly cooler than before—nothing drastic, but enough to soothe my hot, flustered self. Jake sets me down and moves to secure the door, then we walk side by side toward his place, exchanging a few appraising glances along the way.


In front of the coffee shop, I pause to admire two bright yellow chairs surrounding a small, vintage-looking table. The black and orange sign in the glass window reads: We are CLOSED. It takes me a moment to spot the name of the café, painted in small black letters on the top right window: GRIT. In all my years working at the bookstore, I’ve never once visited this coffee shop. Maybe it’s time to shake up my routine, I think to myself.


The separate entrance to Jake’s apartment is just to the side of the building, with a private staircase leading to the upper level. By the time we reach the top, I’m out of breath, a clear sign that it might be time to start an exercise regimen.


“It’s very small,” Jake says, unlocking the door. “Only about 600 square feet.”


I step inside the rectangular living room and glance around. The kitchen is to the left, open concept but compact. The brown cupboards are old and outdated, but the space feels clean and minimalistic. The living room, neutral in color, mirrors the simplicity. There’s not much to look at—just a couch, an end table, and a TV stand.


“It’s cozy,” I say, moving further into the living room.


“Bedroom and bathroom are through that archway,” Jake points toward it.


“Oh, this is cool,” I remark, gesturing toward a wood-framed display on the wall. Jake approaches as I examine the acoustic guitar hanging inside an open case. The light-orange wood top has a beautiful maple color along the border.


“I bet this is your most prized possession,” I say, meeting his eyes with a smile.


He smiles back, his gaze soft, before adjusting the guitar’s wooden hanger. “It’s one of them.”


I smile and nod, sensing there’s more to the story but not wanting to press him.


As I head toward the gray sofa, he adds, “Actually, a famous country star gifted it to me a few years back.”


My eyes widen. “Really? Who?”


“Joe Diffie,” he replies, setting his hat on the oval end table. “He’s originally from Tulsa.”


“Yeah, I’ve heard of him. How did you meet?”


“He came to one of my first performances, and for whatever reason, he sought me out afterwards and gave me his guitar.”


“Wow. That’s incredible. He must have seen something in you, or he wouldn’t have made such a big gesture.”


Jake shrugs, a modest smile on his face. “I don’t know about that, but I was hoping to sing with him someday. Unfortunately, he passed away a couple years back.”


“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” I step closer, my gaze lingering on his well-defined shoulders as he stretches his arms above the arched doorway. “So, is that your dream—to be a country music star?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away from his biceps.


“Something like that, yeah…” He relaxes, dropping his arms to his sides. “Alright, your turn. Tell me one of your dreams.”


Wanting to steer the conversation in a lighter, more suggestive direction, I smirk and share my all-consuming thought. “Tonight, my only dream is to ride a sexy, rugged, blue-eyed cowboy.”


Jake drops onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh, draping one arm over the back. “Aw, what a shame. If only I knew someone who fit that description, I’d totally hook you up.”


“Shut up,” I retort, settling onto his lap with a smirk. My hands slide to his shoulders as I lean in. “You fit that description perfectly—every rugged, unfairly handsome inch of you.”


He grips my hips, his laughter rumbling deep in his chest. “Damn, you’re really gunning for it tonight, aren’t you?”


Suddenly self-conscious, I laugh and slug his arm, trying to mask my embarrassment. “Are you always this humble, yet snarky?”


In response, Jake grins and tugs off his black T-shirt in one smooth motion, revealing his chiseled arms and chest. I lose all pretense of playfulness, practically drooling as he tosses the shirt aside, his muscles flexing like they’re putting on a show.


“Jeez.” I exhale, reaching out instinctively to trace his sculpted abs with my fingertips. “Why are you so fit? Do you, like, work out every day or something?”


“Nope.” He stretches lazily, his sun-kissed torso catching the dim light. “I grew up on a farm.”


I roll my eyes with a knowing smile. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”


“Probably because we live in Oklahoma,” he quips.


“Fair point.” I chuckle softly, the laughter adding to the easy comfort between us.


Jake’s expression turns softer as he gestures to my sleeveless top. “May I?”


Heat floods my cheeks as I nod once, my smile shy and nervous. A bashful grin takes over my face as he gently pulls the fabric over my head, his fingers brushing my skin. The warmth of his touch sends a thrilling shiver down my spine. Reaching behind my back, I unfasten my strapless bra and unveil my close-set breasts.


“Damn, why do you have to be so beautiful?” he murmurs, his voice low and almost reverent.


“Huh?” I reply, caught off guard, my face wavering between a smile and a confused frown. “Is that… supposed to be a bad thing?”


“Not at all,” Jake says, his lips curving into a mischievous grin before he pulls me closer.


His mouth claims mine in a kiss that’s anything but subtle, his tongue teasing and exploring with deliberate intent. I meet his passion head-on, my hands sliding up to cup his jawline as I pour every ounce of my own assertiveness into the kiss, matching his intensity move for move. The heat between us builds, and for a moment, it feels like the world around us ceases to exist.


In response, he reaches for one of my available breasts, squeezing it with the palm of his hand. This prompts him to stop and gawk at my chest. I smile in response, a slow, knowing grin that tugs at the corners of my lips, my eyes locking with his as I subtly shift to invite his gaze, enjoying the effect it has on him.


Grabbing my waist, Jake draws me to his face. I gasp at the suction of his mouth, enclosing a good part of my breast. My nipple quickly receives a good tongue lashing as he flicks and tugs it repeatedly. My other one encounters a light twist and yank from two of his fingers. This becomes a stimulating cycle. Jake—sucking and petting each of my breasts, sending me into a frenzy of short moans and accelerated pants. I’ve never had a boob-gasm, but I feel as though I’m about to have one.


“How about that ride?” he murmurs, his voice husky as it meets my heavy, intoxicated gaze.


I can barely muster a smile, the ache in my body demanding attention—urgent, desperate for relief.


“I’m so ready for it,” I answer, breathless, as I stand up from Jake’s lap. I quickly strip off my jeans and black thong, throwing them aside before motioning for him to follow suit. “Hurry it up, cowboy.”


“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, unbuckling his jeans with a swift movement.


I’m amused when Jake hands me the condom from his wallet, the gesture almost playful, as if trying to keep pace with my eagerness. As I tear it open with my teeth, I catch the hint of a grin tugging at his lips.


Without pause, I place the condom on his hard upright cock and mount him slowly. My body adjusts to his size quicker this time, allowing me to thrust my hips up and down without discomfort. The way he fills me up with each stroke drives me wild. Especially since his hands remain clasped to my bottom.


Already burning with desire, I start to move quicker, my pelvis setting the rhythm. But it’s not enough—it doesn’t feed the hunger inside me. A more intense force is what I crave, my body desperate for it. I grip Jake’s shoulders, anchoring myself, using his strength to fuel mine. Then I ride him harder, faster, the raw power of each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. The adrenaline surges, and I lose myself in the rhythm, craving the release with every thrust. Jake’s breath quickens, matching the tempo, and I can tell from the sound of his ragged exhale that he’s right there with me, ready to erupt.


“I’m not gonna last much longer,” Jake mutters, his breath ragged. “Not with the way you’re fucking me.”


“I’m already there,” I cry out, the sound of his voice pushing me over the edge, my body trembling as the start of my orgasm hits me.


Jake takes advantage of the moment, grinding up into me, his hips moving in quick, urgent thrusts. Each movement builds the tension until it becomes unbearable, and I’m consumed by waves of ecstasy that pulse through my entire body. The release is intense, almost overwhelming, lingering in every inch of me. Jake follows soon after, his groan of pleasure vibrating against my skin as he finishes. He slumps against me, his body heavy and spent as his breath slows and his muscles unwind.


I rest my head on his shoulder, savoring the comfort of the moment. “Thank you,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his warm skin.


He responds with a low, unintelligible murmur, slowly returning to reality.


Carefully, I slide off of him and roll onto the couch, my body feeling like a heap of relaxed mush. For a few moments, I bask in the comfort and contentment. Then, a single thought cuts through the calm…


What happens now?