Clay’s outstretched palms run across my shoulders and up my neck. Strong fingers cup my cheeks and angle my face towards his.

“Cheyenne,” he whispers, hot air washing over my skin. “I’ve dreamed about this for years.”

I shiver at his words, soft tremors shaking me from head to toe. One of his hands slides down my arm and around my back. Its grip tightens, and he pulls me close to him. The hard bulge between his legs presses into my thigh.

I start to tell him I’ve dreamed about this moment too, that it’s all I’ve ever fantasized about, but his lips press warmly into mine, and I lose all ability to talk.

He grazes his tongue across mine, stroking and teasing. A moan bubbles up from my chest. I lock my knees to stop myself from all out collapsing. Deft fingers find the bottom button on my shirt. One by one, Clay undoes my blouse. With two smooth movements, the top is off and falling to the floor.

My aching nipples grow hard against the lacy fabric of my bra. A gush of wetness spills out of me and soaks my panties. Clay hooks his thumbs into my front belt loops, his other fingers brushing tantalizingly close to my needy area.

He nips my bottom lip then takes his mouth to my neck. Harsh sucks make my head spin. Lower and lower his mouth goes, until it’s at the top of my bra. With one hand, he unhooks my bra and slips it from my shoulders to release my tender breasts.

Clay kisses me ferociously and takes my breasts in his hands. He massages and pushes them together, thickly padded fingers grazing my erect nipples. With a quick spin, he turns me around. My thighs hit the bed. Clay presses forward to ease me down on the mattress.

He keeps kissing me while he pulls my pants off. My soaking panties come next, wet enough that they cling to my legs on their way down. Clay breaks our kiss to lean back and strip off his own clothes. His hazel eyes burn with fire as he gazes down at me, a bit of thick brown hair falling over one eyebrow.

Fully naked, Clay leans back over me. Each movement, no matter how slight, makes his muscles ripple. Our hands lace together. He lifts them above my head. A strong knee nudges my thighs open, and heavy hips weigh against mine.

His mouth presses into mine again just as the tip of his bulge touches my quivering lips. He presses forward to part my slick opening. I moan against his teeth and his nails dig into my palm. My walls stretch, a sweetness I’ve never known filling me. He buries his whole length into me and begins to move back and forth. I close my eyes, welcoming the new feeling of being claimed.

His ragged breath runs over my tongue, quick exhales and inhales coming in between our kisses. I shake and moan underneath his weight, the ecstasy more than I can handle. A burst or sensation explodes throughout my body, and I can’t help but cry out from the intense pleasure. Clay bites my bottom lip, holding it firmly between his teeth. The rapturous sensations go on and on. I’m flying away, held down only by the man resting above me…

“I said, excuse me,” an annoyed voice snaps.

I jerk and look up. “Huh?”

An irritated brunette in a University of Wyoming shirt stands above me. Her nose wrinkles. “Can I get by?” she asks, pointing down at the bench that I’m sitting on.

My cheeks grow red hot. “Yes,” I mumble, then move my legs to the side. She walks along the narrow row of seats. I drop my face and look at my jeans, embarrassed beyond belief to be so spaced out in a public place. And was I really just having a fantasy in the middle of a rodeo?

The crowd erupts in hoots and hollers. My head snaps back up. Clay’s roped a calf, his perfectly tied lasso snug around the animal’s neck. The calf gives up its fight and stills. Pride blooms in me. Clay’s tan Stetson hides half his face, but I can see the slight smile on his lips as he turns towards the bleachers.

The hat tilts back a bit more, and suddenly those hazel eyes are on mine. My heart stops. I forget how to breathe. Will Clay recognize me?

Or even remember me?

What seems like a whole minute but is probably just a few seconds pass. Clay’s eyes, still locked on mine, widen a tad. I come back to life and suck in a heavy breath. Clay’s gaze keeps moving across the crowd. He gives a wave to someone then jumps off his horse to rope in the calf.

My eyes fall to my lap again. My pulse hammers through me. He recognized me. Clay Murphy, the man who’s haunted my wet dreams for the last seven years, actually recognized me.

Seeing as I was fifteen the last time I saw him, it comes as a surprise. We may have been neighbors, but Clay didn’t exactly pay me loads of attention in the days we were growing up. Even once I started getting breasts and filling out, Clay never looked my way twice.

Granted, I was too young for him then. With him five years older than me I never had a chance with the guy. But that was fun to imagine, to pretend I was one of the beautiful girls from town that he would take out to the movies or on horseback rides.

He makes a sport of having a new girl every weekend. That’s what my dad always said about Clay. I never cared. I would have done nearly anything to be one of those girls, even if it only meant getting Clay’s hands on me for two days.

His absence from his dad’s horse ranch meant I basically gave up the dream. Whatever small chance I had of getting with Clay while he lived next door was cut in half by him being off traveling with the rodeo.

But now he’s back. And he recognized me.

I gulp and get up from my seat. I need to stretch my legs. Or jump into an ice-cold lake.

I’m so worked up my legs quake. I can feel liquid running down the inside of my thigh. I weave my way through the crowd and head for the grassy area outside of the stands. The fantasy I just indulged in sits heavily on my mind, refusing to go away.

Really, the idea forming in my brain has been there for the last few weeks, ever since I heard the rodeo was coming to town. Clay is right there in front of me, and I see with my own eyes just how well he’s filled out and bulked up.

I know what I’m going to do.

With him.