What the fuck am I doing? I don’t want to ride a mechanical bull. That shit is for people who are brave, and I am not brave. But the look of relief on Abby’s face reminds me why I threw myself into the bull-riding arena.

“Thank you,” she mouths.

Abby is sweet and smart and wildly cautious. Taking chances isn’t her thing. When things are out of place or order, she gets anxious and starts counting. That’s when all hell breaks loose. She hasn’t been formally diagnosed, but we all know she suffers from anxiety and most likely OCD.

“You want to get on Cheryl?”

I pull my gaze from Abby’s and look at Lincoln. “Yeah, why not?” I say, trying to sound confident. “Will you help me?”

Lincoln is overprotective and reminds me so much of my brothers. I expect him to say hell no and drag me out of the bar for even thinking about putting myself in danger, but then he shocks the hell out of me when he stands up and offers me a hand.

“I’ll always help you.”

His eyes are as intense as his words, and I find myself standing up and slipping my hand in his.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jack says.

“He’s right,” Phillip interjects. “What if you get hurt?”

“I would never let you get hurt,” Lincoln says, softly. “But life is too damn short to let fear hold you back. If you want to get up there and ride Cheryl, then get up there and ride Cheryl.”

At first, I didn’t really want to ride Cheryl. I was just trying to draw the attention away from Abby. But now I want to show Lincoln that I can be fearless and brave like he is.

“You said Mo did this, right?”

Lincoln chuckles. “Yup.”

I square my shoulders. “Well, if Mo can do it, I can do it.”

With my hand in his, Lincoln guides me to a small table behind a control panel.

“Hey, Jimmy,” he says.

“Hey, Linc.” The older man wearing a Broken Boot T-shirt stands up and shakes Lincoln’s hand. “You wanna have a go at Cheryl?”

“Not me.” Lincoln looks down at me, and Jimmy’s eyes follow.

His gaze narrows, and he tilts his head a fraction. “I know you. You’re Rhett’s sister.”

“Adley,” I say, shaking the guy’s hand.

I don’t remember meeting him, but I’ve been here so many times over the years with my dad and Rhett, it would be impossible to recall all the names and faces.

“She yours?” Jimmy asks Lincoln.

Lincoln wraps an arm around my shoulder, holding me proudly. “She is,” he says, smiling down at me.

“You okay with her getting on Cheryl?”

“Fuck no,” Lincoln answers, surprising both of us. “That’s why I’m getting on with her.”

“You are?” I ask, slightly relieved that I won’t be getting up there alone and making a fool out of myself.

Jimmy scratches his head and looks at the bull. “It’s not really made for two people.”

“Since when do you follow the rules?”

“You’re right.” Jimmy laughs, motioning toward Cheryl. “Have at it.”

My friends stand off to the side while Jimmy goes over the rules of riding Cheryl. Once he’s done, I climb onto Cheryl’s back, and then Lincoln swings a leg and gets on behind me.

It’s a tight fit, but we make it work.

“I’m a little nervous,” I admit.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he says, guiding my right hand to the bar in front of us. “Hold this, tight.”

His long fingers curl around mine, securing my hand to the bar.

“Your left hand has to stay up in the air, like this,” he says, lifting my arm up.

“But what am I supposed to hold on to?”

“The bar.” He squeezes my right hand. “You hold on right here.”

“I can only hold on with one hand?”

“That’s all you need.” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “When you ride me, you don’t hold on to anything.”

I grin and roll my eyes. “That’s a little different. This is a bull. It could get a little wild, and I could get bucked off.”

Lincoln leaves my left hand in the air and rests his against my lower belly.

“Riding a bull is like having sex. It’s all in the hips,” he whispers, tugging me back until my ass is cradled firmly between his legs and his cock is pressed against me. “Find a rhythm and ride. And next time you climb on top of me, I’ll show you just how wild I can be. You’ll wish you had a bar to hold on to.” He nips playfully at my ear, and I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck.

“If that’s his form of helping, you were an idiot to turn that man down,” I hear Emily tell Abby.

“No shit,” she replies. “Are they going to fuck up there or what?”

Emily sighs. “Looks like it.”

Lincoln laughs, and I shake my head. “Sorry about them.”

“Don’t be. I like your friends. Well, except for Jack. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Jack who?” I look over my shoulder at Lincoln. His eyes are hooded, and he’s got a sexy smirk on his face. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried. You’re mine, and you know it.”

I nod.

“You kids ready?” Jimmy hollers.

“You ready?” Lincoln asks me.

“Don’t let me get hurt, okay?”

“Never. I’ll never let you get hurt.”

I feel like he’s talking about more than riding Cheryl. I want to ask him what else he means, but when Cheryl whirs to life, I squeal and face forward.

Lincoln tightens his right hand on mine against the bar, and his left hand is secure against my stomach as Cheryl slowly begins to rock.

“Shit,” Abby says. “I’m not sure I can watch this. It’s making me nervous.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cover her face with her hands.

“You good?” Lincoln asks. I nod, and he yells to Jimmy. “A little faster.”

Jimmy kicks it up a notch, and Cheryl’s speed increases.

Lincoln was right; this is a lot like sex. Lincoln’s hips are moving with mine, and each time we rock, his cock slides along my ass—over and over until all I can concentrate on is how hard he is and what it would feel like if there was nothing between us.

“Are you always this hard when you get on a bull?” I ask over my shoulder.

“It’s not the bull; it’s you.” He grinds against me, and I moan, hopeful that Cheryl’s motor keeps people from hearing.

Lincoln’s fingers splay out along my belly, his pinky and ring finger dipping low. Each time we rock, his grip on me tightens, and his fingers push against my zipper, causing it to rub against my clit.

I’m trying to pay attention to what I’m doing, but all I can concentrate on is the delicious friction and Lincoln’s hard chest at my back.

“Faster,” I yell, needing more. My hips are moving in rhythm with Cheryl’s rock, and so are Lincoln’s.

“Keep rolling your hips,” he demands quietly in my ear. “Each time she moves, rock into my hand and then back against me.” I do as he instructs, and Lincoln rewards me with a kiss to my ear. “Perfect.”

I can’t concentrate after that because I’m aching, needing, and seconds from exploding in a room full of people.

“Lincoln,” I call out, wondering if he knows what this is doing to me.

Or maybe this was his plan all along.

He gives Jimmy some sort of signal. “Hold on, tight, sweetheart.”

Cheryl rocks harder and faster, and this time there’s a twist to her back end. We whip to the right and then back to the left. The movement jostles Lincoln’s hand. I tighten my thighs on Cheryl. Within seconds of the new rhythm, I’m close to screaming. I do my best to control my body, but it’s too late. I fall apart in Lincoln’s arms. My gasps and moans blend into the cheers and chants coming from the crowd.

My hips continue to rock between Lincoln’s arousal and his hand, drawing out my orgasm. Within seconds, I come again, and the pleasure feels so good it hurts. When I can’t take any more, I call out, “Stop. Please, stop.”

Jimmy flicks the switch, and Cheryl slows to a stop. I’m flushed and breathing heavy, and I can’t believe that just happened.

I had an orgasm in front of a room full of people—five of whom are close friends—in a bar, no less. Shit. Pushing a hand through my hair, I look around the room to see if anyone seems to have noticed what just happened.

Lincoln doesn’t immediately release me, and when I wiggle in his arms, he brings his lips to my ear. “Did you just get off?”

Oh God, this is mortifying. I nod.

“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs, flinging himself off of Cheryl.

He gives me a hand to help me down, and when I lift a leg over, he picks me up and swings me into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking at my friends as we stride right past them.

Abby holds out my purse, and I snag it.

Two words is all he’ll give me. “We’re leaving.” After a moment he adds, “Did you drive?”

“No. I rode with Abby.”

I hear Abby and Emily call after us, but Lincoln keeps walking until we’re at his truck. He opens the door, settles me in the passenger seat, and buckles me in without saying a word. His movements are rushed and jerky as he shuts the door and walks around the front of his truck to climb in.

Did I embarrass him? That’s the only explanation for the way he’s acting right now.

“I’m sorry,” I say, turning in my seat so I can look at him.

Lincoln puts his truck in drive and pulls out the parking lot. “What the fuck are you sorry for?”

I flinch at the hard tone of his voice. “For embarrassing you.”

“Embarrassing me?” Lincoln glances between me and the road. “You didn’t embarrass me.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” he says, stepping on the gas as we race down the highway.

“This,” I say, motioning toward the road. “Grumpy and in a hurry.”

This time when Lincoln looks at me, he laughs. “I’m not grumpy or embarrassed.”

“You’re not?”

“Fuck no. You just exploded in my arms in a room full of people—I’m horny. I hauled your ass out of there because I’m seconds from blowing a load in my pants like a goddamn teenager.”

My eyes drop to his cock, which is straining against the zipper of his jeans, and I remember how it felt rubbing against my ass—growing each time I rocked against him.

I reach across the seat and flick the button on Lincoln’s jeans. I lower the zipper and his swollen cock falls into my hand.

“Adley, don’t. I’m not going to last long.”

“Please, let me.”

Lincoln is hanging on by a thread, and there’s nothing I want more than to watch him let go.

He glances down at my hand stroking his cock and nods.

I’m on him a second later, sucking and licking, taking him to the back of my throat.

“Shit,” he hisses, burying a hand in my hair. “Harder.”

I tighten my lips, sink down, and suck as hard as I can. Lincoln groans and thrusts his hips until he finds his release. I keep sucking, swallowing everything he has to give, and when his dick starts to soften in my mouth, I sit up.

Lincoln’s eyes have gone from hard to soft, and he looks at me tenderly as I tuck him back into his pants.

“Now what?” I ask.

With one hand on the wheel, he reaches for me and pulls me to his side. “Now we go home. I’ll feed us, and then I’ll show you what a real buck feels like.”