Jake’s POV
My fucking heart was about to explode out of my chest, slamming against my ribs like a goddamn sledgehammer. Her lips—soft and sweet—had been on mine just moments ago.
And now I was standing there like a goddamn idiot.
The door clicked shut, but her presence still lingered in the air, thick and intoxicating. I collapsed onto the bed and pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to erase her from my mind.
But how the fuck was I supposed to do that?
Adison was everywhere—in the shadows dancing on the walls, in the way my sheets smelled like her, in the way she looked at me.
I need to admit the truce.
I thought about Adison Ward constantly—when I was checking fences, when I was trying to sleep, when she was standing right in front of me pretending to care about cattle rotation schedules.
Every. Fucking. Night.
My body betrayed me, throbbing like a drumbeat against my jeans as I thought of Adison, and anger and lust coiled in my gut.
I was furious she’d unraveled forty-three years of self-control with one kiss. Furious at myself for how badly I wanted her. Furious at Richard for trusting me.
I’d been torturing myself for weeks, since she showed up at the ranch. Every goddamn day, she’d strut around in those tight-ass jeans that hugged her curves like they were sewn onto her skin.
Her flannel shirt, the fabric stretched taut over her breasts whenever she leaned over the fence to feed the cattle. And her eyes… Blue like the sky, but hotter than hellfire.
She’d catch me staring sometimes, and that smirk of hers—that goddamn smirk—would make my blood boil. She knew what she was doing to me, and it was fucking driving me out of my mind.
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. My cock was rock-hard, straining against my jeans, begging for release. I needed to cool down—take a cold shower, freeze my fucking balls off, something, anything to stop this relentless ache.
I stumbled to the bathroom, peeling off my shirt as I went, my skin flushed and damp with sweat. The cold water hit me like a slap, but it didn’t help.
If anything, it only made it worse.
The water cascaded over my chest, my abs, and my cock standing at attention like it was fucking saluting her. I leaned against the tile, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps as my hand crept downward.
Adison’s face flashed in my mind—her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, her hair wet and clinging to her neck. The second I wrapped my hand around my length, I thrust into my fist, my hips jerking uncontrollably.
I imagined her on her knees in front of me. Those blue eyes looking up at me as she took me into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the head, teasing me, driving me wild.
My hand moved faster, my grip tightening as I pictured her throat working around me. Swallowing me deep, gagging on me like the fucking slut I knew she could be. Pre-cum slicked my palm, making the friction unbearable, fucking perfect.
“Fuck… Adison,” I groaned, her name a curse, a prayer on my lips.
I pictured her riding me, her tits bouncing in my face, her pussy gripping me like a vice as she moaned my name. The image was too much—I came hard, my knees nearly buckling under the force of it.
I braced myself against the tile, my chest heaving, my cock still pulsing as the aftershocks rocked through me.
But even as the high faded, the reality crept in. Adison was too young for me, too fucking everything for me to be thinking about her like this.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, the cold water doing nothing to wash away the dirty thoughts that clung to me.
Back in bed, I stared at the ceiling, her face burned into my mind like a brand. Dawn would bring no relief—just more fantasies, more temptation, more fucking Adison. And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out.
* * *
The day stretched ahead like torture designed specifically for me. I avoided her with the dedication of a man whose sanity depended on distance.
Found excuses to work the north pasture when she was in the barn. Checked fence lines I'd inspected yesterday. Anything to put space between us.
She noticed. Of course she fucking noticed.
And instead of giving me the distance I desperately needed, Adison decided to make my life a living hell.
She flirted openly—not subtly, not tentatively, but with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what buttons to push. Bending over just a bit too long when picking up tools, her ass in those jeans making my mouth go dry.
Touching my arm when asking questions that didn't require physical contact. Laughing while looking at me through her lashes like she was auditioning for a role in some cowboy fantasy I didn't need in my head.
Each interaction wound me tighter. By afternoon I was gripping tools hard enough to leave marks. By evening my jaw ached from clenching.
Tommy noticed too. Kid was too observant for his own good. "You okay, boss? You seem tense."
"Fine." The word came out sharper than intended. "I'm fine."
"Right." His skeptical look said he didn't believe me for a second. "Well, if you need to talk—"
"I don't."
Around eight PM I admitted defeat. I needed distance—not just physical but mental.
Needed to stop thinking about her for five goddamn minutes. Needed to remember who I was before Adison invaded my ranch and turned everything I thought I knew about myself inside out.
I grabbed my phone, typed out a message to Tommy: ‘Going to the Honky-Tonk. Morning tasks on the kitchen table. Don't tell Adison.’
The bar looked exactly like it had for the past twenty years—familiar dive bar salvation.
I ordered whiskey. Neat. Drank it faster than I should have. The noise and chaos should've drowned out my thoughts, helped me forget the taste of her mouth and the feel of her body pressed against mine.
Should've reminded me that this was my world—working men, simple pleasures, no complications.
Except nothing felt simple anymore.
The whiskey burned going down but didn't touch the tension coiled in my chest. I ordered another. Then another.
Watched cowboys line dance with their girlfriends. Watched pool games and dart competitions. Watched life happening around me while I sat alone at the bar trying to convince myself that distance was the answer.
Near closing time, she appeared.
A woman in tight jeans and a crop top that left little to imagination. Pretty in an uncomplicated way. Blonde hair, easy smile, the kind of availability I used to accept without hesitation.
"Hey there." She slid onto the stool next to mine, close enough that her perfume hit me. Floral. Too sweet. Wrong. "Haven't seen you here in a while, Jake."
I knew her vaguely. Worked at the feed store maybe? One of those women who'd made it clear over the years that if I was interested, she was available.
No strings, no complications, just physical relief between two consenting adults.
"Been busy." I took another drink, trying to remember why this used to appeal to me.
Simple. Uncomplicated. Safe.
"Too busy for a little fun?" Her hand landed on my arm, fingers trailing up toward my shoulder. The touch felt foreign, invasive, completely wrong even though it was exactly what I'd come here for. "You look like you could use some distraction."
She leaned in closer, her intentions crystal clear. This was the moment. The easy out. Proof that Adison Ward didn't own my thoughts or my body or my self-control.
That I was still the man I'd been two months ago—cynical, detached, perfectly capable of meaningless physical connections.
But all I could think about was Adison's defiant eyes. Her soft mouth forming words that wrecked me. The way she'd walked away from my bedroom like she owned me.
Because somehow, impossibly, she did.
"So what do you say?" The woman's voice pulled me back. "Want to get out of here? My place isn't far."