Chapter 9
“That’s all you have to do, just keep moving,” I called up, ogling his butt again, wanting to rub a finger along his tight crease, to grab the balls that I imagined dangling tantalizingly between his muscular, cowboy legs.
I felt a little guilty, climbing up behind him with wood in my own denim. Shame on me for not being able to tamp my desires while Cord was confronting his fears. Why did Cord Darringer have to be so unrefined but such an endearing, gentlemanly guy, anyway?
But Cord didn’t know I was hard. He was suffering while I was in a state of erotic bliss, ready to bang him. Frankly, I wanted to nudge my eight-inch post up his tight cowboy ass and have my way with him. The wind had always been an aphrodisiac for me, and the higher we climbed, the hotter I got.
“You still behind me?” he asked, still climbing.
“I’m hard,” I said.
“Hard?” he asked, now almost at the top of the ladder.
“Here,” I corrected myself. “I’m herebehind you.”