Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Gathering

Summary: Beth wants to be included, but doesn’t want to ask. She didn’t feel like she should have to.

Beth watched the hustle and bustle going on around the ranch, from her perch on the front porch. She didn’t keep up with the day to day business of the ranch. She only cared about the finances. She only cared about the business side. She didn’t know what her father was doing rounding up all the cattle. Having Lloyd prepare all the cowboys. She saw Kaycee and Tate riding along side him. Monica standing on the foreman’s porch. A few of the barrel racers wandering around down by the bunkhouse. Even Gator was loading the wagon they rarely used. Her father could do what ever he wanted, and not tell her a damn thing; she wouldn’t even blink. But when she started trying to find Rip in the chaos, she couldn’t. He usually didn’t wander too far from the house, too far from her; not after he almost lost her. He checked in more than he did before. She could guarantee he would be walking back through their front door, before ten in the morning, he’d be back at noon. If he even thought he’d be later than four or five, he called. He didn’t go several hours without hearing her voice or seeing her face. She noticed the difference in his habits, the first day he went back to work. She expected not to hear or see him all day. She didn’t like the idea, but she held in her own insecurities. She went right back to sleep, almost as soon as he was out the door. She was so exhausted from the meds. Her body still ached when she moved certain ways. She had no intention of getting up. Before she even had a chance to notice he was gone, he was crawling back in bed beside her. Pulling her back to his chest. Kissing her neck. This was the first day he hadn’t popped in unexpected, or called to check on her. When she scanned the crowed, she didn’t see Rip. She didn’t see his horse. She didn’t see Carter, who was usually trailing behind. He hadn’t mentioned anything when he left that morning. He didn’t say anything would be different today, but she felt it. She didn’t like what was happening around her. It didn’t take long for her anxiety to slowly build. For the wind to feel like it was shifting.

It didn’t take long for her to get antsy enough, to start wandering around the ranch, looking for her husband. She could have asked anyone she passed, what was going on, but she didn’t want to talk to just anyone. She wanted her husband. He could calm her so quickly. She could be vulnerable with him. She didn’t have to keep her guard up. Would she have been so in need of HIM if he hadn’t been the one to take care of her for months? When he was the only one she could stand to see? Probably not. He was still the only one to see her scars. The only one that knew just how badly she’d been burned. The one that dealt with her cries of pain, and the sleepless nights. The one who calmed her, when she woke up screaming from the nightmares that plagued her every time she closed her eyes. She didn’t want anyone else to help her then, she definitely didn’t want it now. Her father tried to stop her, but she reassured everything was fine. She couldn’t explain to HIM how she felt. She could barely figure it out herself, luckily Rip didn’t need words to read right through her. He’d know how to fix it, before she could even figure out what was wrong in the first place. Kaycee just looked at her as she rushed by, but her slight nod was enough to keep him at a distance. He checked on her frequently after the bombing. She didn’t always have to see him, to know he was right in the next room. Staying close to the cabin at night, just to make sure no one was coming back to finish what they started. Lloyd was the one that told her, Rip was sorting gear in the crawl space behind the barn. She didn’t even have to ask the question, she was sure by the look on her face, it was clear what she was looking for. That’s when she finally saw Carter, trailing behind the older man, all smiles. She wanted to ask what was going on, but didn’t. If her son was excited, it couldn’t be a bad thing. She ruffled her hand through the boys hair, told him to be careful around the horses, and took off towards the barn.

Since the explosion, her isolation and hospitalization, her father being shot; Carter didn’t go far from them. If he wanted to go off with the other cowboys, he stayed with Rip. Never letting her husband out of his sight for long. If he wanted to stay around the house with her, she couldn’t go far, without him looking for her. He smiled more. He spoke without fear. But there was now something in his eyes that broke her heart, because she hadn’t taken a moment to consider how he felt seeing her in the hospital. Hearing her cries of pain, until the nurses eventually put her back under. Not knowing if she would be coming home or not. She didn’t know her heart stopped the second day. She didn’t know she had to be put in a coma for a month. And down the hall, her father was on life support after being shot seven times. She should have imagined what he thought, seeing two people he cared about, barely hanging on, in the same hospital his father died in. Now, he had nightmares that he wouldn’t talk about the next morning. He startled easier, but so did she. She had to ask the other ranch hands what happened the day of the explosion. No one wanted to tell her. Kaycee was too busy hunting everyone down one by one, nor was he there. It was Monica and Lloyd that told her the truth. Why Tate wouldn’t come out of his room. Why her own son refused to let her out of his sight. He was almost afraid to sleep alone anymore. The ranch had been attacked, luckily, Lloyd locked himself and Carter in the tack room, after releasing the horses into the back field. Several of those men got trampled trying to get into the barn, trying to burn everything to the ground. He tried to shield him from most of it. He tried to keep him in the room until Teeter came and took him, Monica and Tate back to the main house. She owed Lloyd her last breath, for protecting her son when they couldn’t.

As she rounded the back corner, she could hear Rip throwing things around. Metal clanging against metal. Exhausted sighs coming from the cracked wooden door. She didn’t know if it locked anymore. She couldn’t remember if the lights still worked, or if her father ever eradicated the spiders. It wasn’t a place they normally hid away, there was no need, when they had the tack room easily available. She didn’t like how isolated the space felt at night. How dark the back of the barn was without security lights. How far away from everyone it actually was. The treeline was too thick to see if anyone was hiding and watching. She didn’t understand why everything in the crawl space, couldn’t be moved to the tack room. At least she was comfortable there.

Beth leaned against the stone wall, watching her husband move around the space. Shaking out gear that hadn’t been used in over a year. Throwing saddle bags and overnight packs into a growing pile by a work bench. She was the first to admit, her husband was a good looking man. Especially when he was throwing shit around and nearly grunting. The way his ass looked in the worn out jeans as he bent over, caused butterflies to flutter in her belly. He didn’t look aggravated yet. He looked like he was looking forward to what ever was happening. So why wouldn’t he tell her? She might not care about what happened on the ranch, she cared about her husband. She cared about her son. She needed to know what was going on with them. They were all that mattered. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, watching him jump, and suddenly turn around; obviously not expecting her presence. But when he saw her face, the corner of his mouth twitched, his eyes lit up.

He didn’t expect her to come looking for him. The more time that passed since the attack, the more independent and confident she became. She could be alone for longer periods of time. She could go to town by herself. She could take Carter grocery shopping without calling him within ten minutes of leaving the ranch, having a panic attack. It took a long time to get her to sleep through the night, not get up with him every morning, just so she wouldn’t be left alone. She had more nightmares than he thought her body could take, but she never complained, just apologized for waking him. Apologized for being so clingy, for needing him so much, but that’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to finally let down her walls, and trust him to protect her. He didn’t mind her following him around the ranch for the first few months of coming home from the hospital, he loved her company. He enjoyed her presence. He wanted her around all the time, but knew that wasn’t always possible. “I'm trying to outfit this boy,” he said with a half smirk, shaking out the smallest set of chaps he could find. If he had to guess, he probably used them a time or two when he was Carter’s age. He was almost reluctant asking the boy if he wanted to go with them in the morning. After two months of constant night terrors, Beth sitting in his room until he fell back to sleep. Barely speaking in the mornings. Sometimes he wouldn’t even come out to the barn with him, choosing to stay with Beth instead. He hadn’t asked his wife to go, assuming she wouldn’t want to sleep on the ground after complaining of so many pains in her hips and back. He didn’t want to put her in a position to feel she was disappointing him. If Carter needed her, they were two full days away, and not anywhere a car could get. He now regretted not bringing it up to his wife last night. “We have to gather in the morning,” he commented, not looking up, but watching her sit on the steps and fidget out of the corner of his eye. She was chewing her bottom lip. Looking anywhere but at him. She looked confused, upset. She looked anxious and worried. He knew he should have gone back to the house and checked on her, before searching for something for Carter to wear in the morning. His gut was pulling him back to the house. But he could see her on the porch, she didn’t seem to be upset. She didn’t look frantic. Something had happened in the ten minutes he’d been in the crawl space. “We'll be gone a couple days,” he said, tossing a few more things in the pile, still keeping an eye on her reaction. She started chewing on the side of her thumb, biting her nails. Her foot bouncing on the step. Her arm crossing over her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. A few new habits that started after the explosion. Carter wasn’t the only one still suffering from the attack.

She didn’t want him to go; that was her first thought. There were enough cowboys, he didn’t need to go anymore. She wanted him to stay home with her. She didn’t want to wake up in silence. She didn’t want to fear every noise she heard on the ranch. She still had nightmares from the bombing. Hell, she still had nightmares from the Beck’s attack. What if someone knew everyone was leaving for a few days? What if someone wanted to take the opportunity to finish what they started? “Is my dad going?” she asked, still confused. Rip left the house before her father that morning. They talked for an hour at the kitchen table, an actual conversation. He didn’t mention anything. He didn’t say today was any different than any other day. He was more cheerful than normal. But she consider it was because he was walking better than the week before. He could finally get back on a horse, and not worry about pulling stitches. She knew Lynelle was coming over later tonight. She didn’t think much about his mood, only that she was glad he was having a better morning than most.

It was the first year since Beth was attacked in her office, that no one was staying behind to keep an eye on things. The ranch would be empty for almost three days. He didn’t know Lynelle was going until John mentioned it in passing, before riding off with Lloyd. He didn’t know if she already had plans to fill the silence. He felt like an asshole, but was waiting for her reaction to figure out how big of one. “It's the spring gathering, honey,” he replied, feeling the bile rise in his throat. By the look on her face, she didn’t know. The amount of knowledge she had about the ranch, was financial. She should have known she wouldn’t care to ask. She wouldn’t bother to remember the time of year. She was still healing from being set on fire. She hadn’t even bothered asking her father for the last few months of money flow. She hadn’t bothered calling Jamie to see what was going on. She didn’t ask Kaycee about the horse sells in Texas. She seemed to be content not knowing. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to know what HE was doing. He wasn’t even sure if he should have asked if she thought Carter would be ready to be away from her. It wasn’t permission he was looking for, it was her opinion. He wanted her for comfort, she would know better than anyone, if he was ready or not. “Everyone's going,” he commented, mostly to see how she would react. He watched her chest rise and fall faster. She was biting her nails harder. Still wouldn’t look him in the eye, as the wheels inside her head started going into overdrive.

A few days of being alone? She couldn’t be alone. Even when she stayed with Lynelle last year, she didn’t sleep. She cried all night long. The few times she did manage to doze off, she woke up in a panic, searching for him, only to start crying all over again. The older woman could see it on her face after the first morning, but there was nothing anyone could do. They couldn’t just drive out there. They couldn’t just call. It was as if they fell off the face of the planet for two days. The second night was much harder. Her mind splitting from the growing migraine. The flashes of the explosion coming every time she closed her eyes. In the silence, she swore she could still hear the ringing in her ears. She ended up getting sick in Lynelle’s spare bathroom, making enough noise to bring the woman running to check on her. It took most of the night for the Governor to calm her down. She never went to sleep. She never had such a difficult time being on her own. She thought she was getting better. She thought she was gaining her independence back. But she couldn’t get a handle on her anxiety, the circling thoughts, just like last time. She never told Rip about those two days, he could see it on her face when he finally made it home that third night. He could feel it in the way she wouldn’t let him go when he was finally lying next to her. He felt her tears hit his bare chest, asked her repeatedly what was wrong. All she could say, was she missed him. “Well, can you outfit me too?” she finally asked, if he was going, then she was going too. She couldn’t ask him not to go. He wanted to go. He loved sleeping outside, just as much as her dad. She could tell he needed it, her son needed it. Maybe she did too.

It was her ask that threw him off. He wasn’t used to her asking, she told him what she was gonna do. Sometimes, she didn’t tell him until long after she’d already done it. If she wanted to go, she knew she didn’t have to ask permission, right? By the innocent, bashful, concerned look on her face, she obviously didn’t. “Do what?” he asked, stopping what he was doing. Putting everything he had in his hands, back on the work bench. Giving her all his attention. He really thought he heard her wrong. She didn’t want to sleep in the dirt. She didn’t want to pee in the woods for the next few days. There was nowhere for her to shower. Nowhere for her to change her clothes, and he knew how she felt about the scars. She didn’t even like her father seeing them. She purposefully kept herself covered, unless they were alone in the house with Carter. She wasn’t self conscious then. She didn’t jump or jerk away when either of them touched her back. Everyone else, she nearly snapped at. If it rained, there was nothing they could do. Of course, if she chose to go, he would pack some things that would make it easier for her, but there was only so much he could do. He would bring the tent, their sleeping bag, bug spray, but he doubted it would be enough. She didn’t like being outside. She didn’t like the idea of camping.

She could tell he didn’t understand what was happening. He was trying so hard to read her face, her body. He was looking for a simple answer, but she didn’t have one. She could just ask to go. She could say she didn’t want to be away from him. She could say she missed him too much when they were apart, but he knew all that. “Well...,” she started, but the thoughts were coming so quickly, she had to take a few deep breaths, trying to force them to slow and subside. She didn’t want to sound needy. She didn’t want to push herself on him, if he didn’t want her to go. If he needed a few days to just breath, she could gladly give it to him. She’d been coping with the shit inside her head on her own for years, she could do it for a few days. Or she’d end up back at Lynelle’s making herself sick. “I am not staying in that dungeon by myself,” she finally said, looking at the ground for a long moment, then looking at his face. He looked confused. He looked frozen, like he didn’t know what to do or say next. He didn’t know how to help her, when she could barely tell him what was wrong.

Rip was growing more and more concerned the longer he watched his wife’s body. She was trying to hide how close she was to bursting into tears. She was trying to swallow the panic. Her mouth and lips were dry. He knew it wasn’t gonna be a good day, the second he tried to get out of bed, and her nails dug into his chest. She wasn’t sleeping well again. She was picking and playing at every meal, instead of eating. She was having more ‘stomach aches’. “Honey, we're two days on horseback,” he said, watching the corner of her mouth twitch. She might think it was amusing now, but by tomorrow night, the pain she would be in, would make her regret the decision. He knew his wife was the strongest woman he’d ever met. She took a beating, better than any man he knew, unfortunately. But he couldn’t get the sound of her cries, from the burns on her back, out of his head. He couldn’t not see the tears falling rapidly down her face, every time he closed his eyes. And she now refused to take any of the meds the doctor still prescribed her. He was at a loss at how to help her. All he could do was follow her lead, give her everything she asked for, do his best to read her emotions and body. “There ain't no tents. No bedrolls. No bathrooms, no nothing,” he said with a slight laugh, as she smirked and looked away. They used to sleep in the field, by the river all the time. With only a blanket and him for comfort. She had no hesitation falling asleep under the stars with him. Waking just as the sun was peaking over the horizon, to straddle his hips, giving him the most erotic show he’d ever seen, while his cock slipped deep inside her heat. She enjoyed it, but that was one night. It wasn’t multiple nights, after riding across hills and valleys, in the heat, all day long.

It sounded like he was trying to convince her not to go, despite the smirk on his face. She wasn’t stupid, she knew everything he was saying was true. This wouldn’t be her first gathering, just her first one with him. She was forced to go all the time as a child and teen. She was used to sleeping outside for days and bathing in the creek. She only stopped going after her mother died. She didn’t want to ride anymore. She didn’t want to go sleep outside anymore. Everything she once enjoyed with her mother, she quickly rejected. It was too difficult having fun without her. And at that point, her attitude was so awful, she felt no one wanted her to go anywhere anyway. “Don't you want me to go?” she asked, almost disappointed that she had to ask. She shouldn’t have to. Why would he think that she’d want to stay on the ranch alone for two days after what happened? Since he’d come home the last time, they hadn’t been separated more than a few hours. She rarely let him slip out of bed without her anymore. He rarely had breakfast alone. She watched him from the porch, when he didn’t come back by a certain time. She now couldn’t fall asleep, without feeling his arm around her. She had to feel the heat from his skin, the strong heart beat pounding in his chest. Could she stay at home alone, sure. Did she want to, no.

He wanted her to go, like he wanted his next breath. He needed her constant weight on his chest to fall asleep anymore, he didn’t tell her that, and didn’t plan too. Every time she moved in her sleep, or on purpose, he was awake; whether she noticed or not. He dreaded the next two days, knowing they would be apart. He didn’t want to pressure her into doing something he knew she didn’t really like. That would cause her body to ache. “Yeah, I'm surprised that you want to go,” he admitted, trying to choose his words carefully, as he watched the agitation slowly grow. He didn’t expect her to WANT to go. He expected her to ask what was going on, where they were going. He didn’t expect her to withdraw when he didn’t ask her. He didn’t expect the attitude he received, that he hadn’t seen in months.

Honestly, Beth didn’t know why she allowed her frustration and emotions to grow so quickly. She KNEW all she had to do was tell him she was going. She didn’t have to withdraw and pout. She didn’t have to act with she was twenty five; pushing him away, baiting him into a fight. She tried to breathe. She tried focus on her husband’s face. But she was too caught up in the hurricane of violent memories flashing inside her head. She couldn’t make them stop. She couldn’t force herself to reach for Rip, knowing he was the only one that could make it all go away. Instead, she continued fighting herself. “Oh, fine, I'll just, uh, fly to Vegas,” she had no idea where that idea came from. Her thoughts were spinning like a typhoon. Sucking up everything she didn’t want to remember, in it’s path. She could barely hold eye contact, even when she saw the smirk appear on her husband’s face, the amusement spark in his eyes. She could tell he wanted to stop her useless rambling, her uncomfortableness, but didn’t know what to say. She knew she wasn’t making it easy, but how hard was it to ask her to go? How hard would it have been to tell her what was going on that morning? “I'll get a suite at the Wynn,” she continued as the thoughts continued flowing like a raging river. She could only hope to grab one that made sense, as they flew past the last still spot inside her mind. She didn’t want to go anywhere. She didn’t want to be surrounded by buildings and lights. She didn’t want to hear the constant yelling and chatter of strangers. She wasn’t looking for a one night stand, or a wild night she wouldn’t remember in a week. She wasn’t drinking anymore, so there was little for her to do in Vegas. She could tell by the look on Rip’s face, he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. He was now just letting her blow off steam. “Go catch the Thunder Down Under,” she let trail off, as she heard his boots scrape the dirt. She only looked up, when he took a step closer to lean against a support post. She could tell he wanted to reach out. He wanted to hold and support her, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

Rip couldn’t help but laugh, actually laugh, which caused her to pout even more. Her lip poking out just enough to remind him of when they were seventeen. That look made him fold every time, and she knew it. She didn’t mean a single word she meant. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was trying to bait him into a fight. It was easier for her to show anger and frustration, than vulnerability and pain. She was rambling, because she didn’t have a plan, if he told her she couldn’t go. She was afraid he’d say no, and didn’t know how to react. “Beth, if you want to go, just say you want to go,” he replied apparently in the wrong tone, because her expression didn’t change. Her arms covered her chest, as she crossed her legs on the step. She was trying so hard not to be mean. She was trying to find the words that would express how she felt. She was doing better since starting PTSD therapy. She was more positive, expressive. It was more difficult to make her angry or frustrated. She came to him to talk more often than she used to. But he’d felt it was one of those days, since he rolled over and pulled her back to his chest. She didn’t want to let him up this morning. She didn’t want him going to work. That hadn’t happened in weeks.

Why did he suddenly sound so aggravated? She knew he wanted her to go, but it sure felt like he didn’t. His reactions weren’t the same as they were in previous weeks. She felt like she was starting to burden him, which was exactly what she feared the most after the bombing. She was incredibly reluctant to let him take care of her when she came home. She tried to let Lynelle help her the first night, but she couldn’t stand anyone else’s touch. The second the bedroom door closed, and Rip was out of her sight, she froze. It was the second time she really needed him, and he was right there. He never wavered. He never got frustrated. He never tried to leave or acted like he wanted to. Now, she felt like he was trying to push her away, but didn’t know how, because he never had. “Well, I think I did but you seem to find that concept inconceivable,” she replied, trying to get her brain used to the idea of staying alone. She wasn’t gonna beg to go. She wasn’t gonna keep asking. She wasn’t gonna fight and argue with him. She would just go away, but that also had it’s own downsides. She didn’t feel safe around strangers anymore. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in a hotel room, alone. It didn’t matter how much security they had, she couldn’t sleep without her husband. She was terrified of slipping back to drinking again, taking the pills to make the nightmares stop. She promised she wouldn’t, but things happened.

“Beth... Let's put the crazy away,” he said without thinking. He didn’t mean it, and wanted to take it back the moment the words filled the silence. The moment he saw the barely visible wince in her eyes. She wasn’t crazy, by any stretch of the imagination. She was repeatedly traumatized. She was beaten and nearly raped in her own office, for a ranch she didn’t want. She had to watch one assistant get shot in the head, and another blown to pieces. Sixty percent of her back suffered third degree burns, almost every rib on her right side was broken. Her lung had collapsed. She had a skull fracture. She died on the table in front of him. And when she was finally able to stay awake for more than a few hours, he had to tell her her father was in a coma down the hall. That he’d been shot multiple times, and left for dead on the side of the road. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Even after months of taking care of his wife, seeing her face, when she thought her father was gonna die, was a new level of hell he never thought he’d experience. He still remembered her screams and cries. She wanted to see him. It was the only time he ever told her no, and held his ground. She hadn’t tried to stand, let alone walk. She had skin grafts that were still healing. She had fractures that needed to be rechecked, before they even tried to get her out of bed. That’s what played in his mind most nights. He still saw the flashes of that day in his mind, every time he closed his eyes. He still woke up in a panic, reaching for her, if she happened to roll away. He wanted her to go. There was nothing he wanted more, than to sleep under the stars with her. To find a quiet spot by the river and curl up under a tree. “Would you like to go on the gathering with me tomorrow?” he asked a little rougher, frustrated with himself for not being able to help her. He wished he could read her mind, so she didn’t have to feel vulnerable if she didn’t want to. He wished he had a book that told him exactly what to do to fix it. All he wanted, was to give her exactly what she wanted and needed. He just needed a little guidance. If she didn’t want to say it, she could write it down, text him, call and leave a voice mail. He would take anything she was willing to give.

Rip took a deep breath, watching her eyes avert to the ground. Her fingers picking at the hem of her dress. She went back to chewing her bottom lip. Her cheeks and chest now flushed. He could tell she was fighting not to cry. Her mind slowly trying to drift anywhere else. He felt like an ass. She was trying so hard to communicate. She was trying to give him all the hints and clues. She just couldn’t bring herself to ask. He didn’t understand why. He could never tell her no. He told her the consequences, and let her decide from there. Instead of continuing to build his own anger, and her own, he took a deep breath, and allowed his mind to slip back to the day he thought she wasn’t coming home. The feeling was a thousand times worse than being shot. His entire world collapsed for two minutes, when her heart stopped. He couldn’t breathe for nearly a month, while she was in a coma. He never left her, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t leave her behind now. “Beth, love of my life, I don't think I can survive two days without you,” he said a little quieter, watching the tension immediately leave her body. Her shoulders and back relaxed against the concrete wall behind her. Her fingers stopped fidgeting. Her boot stopped bouncing against the step. She almost smiled, when she glanced up, but averted her eyes again. He didn’t want to sleep without his wife. The thought hurt more now, than he thought it would. He didn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning, without feeling her body next to his. They tried that when he went to Texas for a week. She didn’t tell him she was driving down. She didn’t call and ask him to come home. She showed up in the middle of a field two days after he left. He never tried to do that again. He should have known, when John asked him to go, that he needed to talk to his wife. He put it off. He assumed the more time that passed, the easier it would be to spend a few days apart; it wasn’t. It had become more difficult, especially for him. He didn’t want to have to wander if she was okay, or what she was doing. What if she woke up from a nightmare? What if she had a panic attack and there was no one there to help her? He wanted to be the one with her. He wanted to be her comfort. He wanted her right next to him, but he wouldn’t MAKE her go. “And God knows that you hate horses and cattle and being dirty and cold and especially being told what to do, all of which is gonna happen tomorrow, but would you consider coming and sparing me...,” he couldn’t help laughing, as she looked up and finally held eye contact. A smile slowly spreading to her eyes. “.. the misery of being without you?” he asked, taking a step towards the pile of chaps, as she exhaled and everything in her head stopped spinning. He would be more than miserable without her. He would be empty. He needed her, just as much as she needed him. It just took twenty years for them both to realize it worked both ways. “Hm?” he hummed when she still didn’t respond. He could tell she was going. He could tell the internal tornado had now calmed. She knew she wouldn’t be alone for two full days. She could relax and just be in the moment with him.

She didn’t respond immediately, because his words took her breath. Part of him was joking, making light of a situation he knew she would complain about later. But he meant every word. The weight of their possible separation finally settled on his shoulders. He felt the ache, just like she did. It wasn’t that he didn’t say sweet things to her, he did it all the time, especially since the bombing. She never thought he could be more perfect, but he proved it every day after she woke up in the hospital. He was so patient. He was so calm, and reassuring, when she felt like she was gonna fall apart. “Well, I don't need you miserable,” she said a little quieter, chewing her bottom lip, to try and hold back the smile that wanted to break through. She wasn’t trying to be a brat, which is what she felt like. It wasn’t about getting her way. She got to be with her husband.

When she smiled like she was now, he felt like they drifted back twenty years. Her eyes lit up. Her cheeks and chest flushed, and not in a bad way. He could see the goosebumps develop on her skin, as she relaxed into his presence. She looked so sweet, so beautiful, sitting on those stone steps; trying to hold her excitement. “Jesus Christ. Here, try these on,” he laughed, picking up the extra pair of small chaps that he was gonna try on Carter. She was built small, but knew Teeter had a spare pair if nothing in the crawl space worked. They were about the same size. If that didn’t work, they’d run to the store and get her a new pair of her own.

Again, watching her husband bend over in front of her, almost caused a moan to slip passed her lips. The way his ass looked in a pair of jeans should be a crime. The way the muscles in his back flexed through the black button up. She wasn’t horny when she left the house, but she was now. “God, you make a girl work for it,” she joked, pushing herself to her feet, as he smiled and held out the chaps for her to take. She had her own in the back of her childhood closet. She really didn’t need to be outfitted. She just wanted to feel his hands on her body. He couldn’t properly fit her in a dress, and he knew it by the smirk that grew bigger when he glanced down at her bare legs, as she pushed herself to her feet.

She took the chaps, but quickly tried to swing the heavy material in his direction. He just as quickly knocked them back to the ground. By the look on her face, he knew they wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. “Get up, try them on,” he dropped everything in his hand, pinching her side, causing a half yelp, half laugh to leave her chest. She tried to step back up the steps, but he was faster than her. Grabbing her around the waist and easily lifting her into his arms. She had lost weight in the last several months. They talked about it as often as she felt comfortable bringing it up. It was anxiety driven. She was always sick to her stomach. Choosing sleeping over eating lately. He wasn’t concerned enough to bring it up on his own yet. As long as she tried, for now, that’s all he could ask.

She didn’t protest, as she was carried and sat on the work bench. It had been a long time since they had moments like this. They had plenty of alone time. They took plenty of rides down to the creek or field to watch the wolves. They had sex all the time, but not like this anymore. He didn’t take control very often. He didn’t get that possessive look in his eyes as often. Not because he knew she was his, but because he saw what happens when he wasn’t careful. When he tried to lead and she wasn’t ready. Since the explosion, he wasn’t as rough with her, as she was used to. He didn’t bruise her skin like she sometimes craved. He had never scared her in the past. He never caused her pain or discomfort before. She never complained of him being too rough. She always asked to be fucked harder. She knew why, he was terrified of hurting her. He didn’t want her afraid of him. But in her wildest nightmares, she couldn’t imagine that happening. “You don't want me putting the crazy away now, do you, huh?” she asked, her nails running lightly along his neck. She couldn’t help smiling against his lips, as she felt his rough hands pushing the fabric of her dress further up her body. Allowing her more freedom to hook her thigh higher on his hip. Even through his jeans, she could feel how hard he was.

As soon as her dress was pushed up her hips, he could smell her. He could smell how aroused she was. He could almost feel it pouring from her skin, causing his cock to grow impossibly harder. He made sure to lift her just enough to drag the clean towel under her, not because she was afraid to get dirty, he was afraid to hurt her sensitive skin on the untreated wood. It had been a long time since they fucked in the middle of the day, where anyone could find them. Anyone could hear them. They didn’t need to sneak around anymore. They had plenty of privacy in the cabin. They had plenty of time alone both during the day, and especially at night. Carter might be in the room across the hall, but he slept like a bear in hibernation most nights, and she had learned to be quieter. He had no complaints about his sex life with his wife. She was the most sexual woman he’d ever been with. The most adventurous. The most open with what she wanted and needed. “You can be as crazy as you want now,” he half laughed, taking a moment just to look at her. Appreciating how beautiful, and relaxed she looked. A familiar spark he hadn’t seen in a while, suddenly appeared in her eyes. Her lips parted and wet, waiting for him to close the space between them. He couldn’t help teasing her for half a second, nipping and licking at her bottom lip, before covering her mouth with his. Swallowing her sigh and needy moan. Immediately tasting her tongue, but something felt different. She didn’t match his dominance with her own. She didn’t fight for control. She melted into him. She let herself be led. “Now, tell me why you wanna go so bad,” he muttered against her lips. Bracing a hand on her upper back, as she tried to lean back against the shelving. He didn’t want her perfect body touching anything in the nasty crawl space.

Beth couldn’t help but smile sweetly as she felt his hand on her back. Allowing her to lean back enough to see his face, but not enough to hurt herself on the piles of shit stacked on the shelves behind her. He was so sweet, considerate, empathetic to protecting her, over his need to be inside her. More concerned about her comfort, then his pleasure. Like now, he had a worried look in his eyes. He wanted to know what was wrong, before he touched her. To be honest, she wasn’t ready to talk about what was really causing the unexpected panic. She preferred him to continue to ignore it, like they both had been. “Why can’t I just want to go?” she asked, nuzzling his cheek. Running her fingers along the buttons on his shirt, up his neck. She wished he wouldn’t question why.

Rip repeatedly asked her to go last year. Not because he was worried about something happening, he just wanted her there. She stayed in Bozeman with Lynelle. She seemed fine when he returned, but cried when she finally crawled into bed with him that night. She woke up from a nightmare not soon after falling asleep. It took the good part of an hour to get her calm enough to fall back to sleep. Every time he moved or tried to get out of bed, she whimpered and awoke all over again. She finally got up with him at five and showered. They ate breakfast on the porch alone. She rode down with him to the barn and followed him around for a good part of the morning. She didn’t talk about what was bothering her, but he knew. It bothered him too. “Because you didn’t want to go last year,” he replied softly, grabbing her hand, as she began to fidget again. Bringing her fingers to his lips, kissing her knuckles. She held eye contact for a lot longer than he thought she would. She tried to be open and exposed. That’s all he ever asked for, is that she try. “You didn’t want to go the two years before that,” he reminded softly, pushing the fallen strands of hair behind her ear. Wanting to see her face, to see what she was trying to hide, but she tucked her chin when he tried. He asked her to go two years ago, a few months after she was attacked in her office. He didn’t want to leave her alone. He didn’t feel comfortable thinking about her staying on the ranch alone. Tate and Monica had moved back to the reservation by then. Gator wasn’t gonna be there during the day for her to talk to if she got lonely or anxious. Lynelle was going with John for the first time. He really thought she’d say yes, she didn’t. At that point, she still wouldn’t get back on a horse for longer than a few minutes. She wouldn’t go on rides with him. She would barely get on one while in the barn, with him standing there. That was the only year, he chose to stay behind. He didn’t tell her. He waited for everyone to leave, for her to look lost sitting on the porch, before starting his truck and driving to the front steps. The moment she realized it was him, it was the first time her entire face lit up. He barely made it out of the truck, before she was running down the steps and throwing her arms around his neck. It was the first time they had the entire ranch to themselves. No one to bother or interrupt them. No one to hide from. It was the happiest he’d ever seen her. He wanted that again. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, kissing her temple, as her demeanor began to slowly change again. Her body didn’t tense, she didn’t try to push him away, she leaned in more. She tried to hide her face. She tried to pull herself closer to the edge of the work bench.

Beth didn’t want to make him feel guilty due to HER fears. She didn’t want him to volunteer to stay home again, because she couldn’t handle her emotions like any other grown woman. She should be able to rationalize that she was okay, she was safe, nothing was gonna happen. Everything had been calm since the bombing. Kaycee had taken care of the last of them, along with the sheriff. Her father wasn’t in any other feuds. But she knew that didn’t mean someone wasn’t plotting. And she didn’t want to be trapped in her own head, alone. She was still off from work. Her bosses were still refusing to send her any new financial information. Insisting she take the time and heal, while the repairs to the building, and the one next door, was still taking place. She couldn’t do anything if she went there, they wouldn’t let her in to a construction zone. She hadn’t found a hobby, like her therapist suggested. She couldn’t sit through an entire moving without getting distracted or bored. She wasn’t a reader, unless it had to do with money. “I don’t wanna be alone,” she muttered, feeling his lips on her wrist, as she ran her fingers through his beard. Caressed his cheek, but she couldn’t look up. It was getting easier for her to verbalize her feelings, but not while making eye contact. It had nothing to do with him. She knew she could trust him with anything. He wouldn’t judge her. He wouldn’t tell her to get over it. He WANTED her to be okay, not just pretend she was. He WANTED to hear everything she had to say, despite how ridiculous it sounded to everyone else. If it was how she felt, if it bothered her, it wasn’t ridiculous. He reminded her all the time. She didn’t know why she couldn’t have a conversation like a normal person. It was so easy for everyone else to say they didn’t want to stay alone, they didn’t want to be vulnerable to another attack. Why couldn’t she?

She was ‘alone’ all the time. She stayed in the house most days, while him and Carter went off to the barn. Sometimes she hung out with her dad, but the more active he became, the less she was sitting on the porch with him. Jamie rarely came home anymore, except to drop off new finance books or check on her, but that was right when she was released from the hospital. He honestly didn’t know what she did during the day, when he wasn’t around. She didn’t talk about work, not like he’d understand ninety percent of what she said anyway. She talked about what THEY did all day. She made conversation with their son. She asked him how his day was. She acted like nothing else existed but the three of them. She seemed more peaceful that way; for a while. But therapy was getting more difficult. He could see the tear tracks every time she returned home from a session. She never let him go, even though he wanted to. Sometimes she talked about what happened, sometimes she still refused. “Why?” he asked softly against her neck. Kissing the spot behind her ear that made her tremble. Running his hand up her bare thigh. The hem of her thong catching his attention. She really didn’t come looking for him, to get laid. When he first saw her standing on the steps, a bashful look on her face, he thought it was a possibility. But if she just wanted sex, she would have left the thong in their bedroom. It bothered him that she felt so anxious about asking him anything. That she didn’t feel comfortable expressing her feelings. It made him wonder what he’d done to make her feel that way. Why was she so afraid of his reactions or responses? She didn’t need to ask him, all she had to do was tell him. What ever she wanted to do, he’d easily agree. But he wanted to know what she was so afraid of. What was causing her to cling so tight? What had her so terrified, she refused to be alone overnight?

Beth felt his fingers playing with the edge of her thong, pulling on the fabric. Massaging her hip. Keeping a firm grip on her back. She should have known, he would eventually ask the questions she didn’t want to answer. She should have known it would be when she felt her most vulnerable. That the man with more self control than her, could ignore his hard cock, her drenched thighs, and wait patiently for the answer that made the most sense. He was the only man that could and would hold his own against her. Not by using his size, but his ability to wait. His willingness to listen. She knew he could stand in that room with her all day. He could easily out wait her. He didn’t care how frustrated, pissed, angry she became, he always responded the same way, with a deep breath and openness. It wasn’t saying the words to him that caused her so much pain. It was the risk of reliving the memories she didn’t want to remember. Rip had comforted her, taken care of her, chased the nightmares away enough for a lifetime. She didn’t want to continue putting that pressure and burden on him. She didn’t want him to have the images in his head, that she had in her own. She never talked about what happened with anyone, accept with her therapist. She hadn’t told anyone the details. She hadn’t shared how terrified she felt for it to happen again. Not that Rip hadn’t seen the fear on her face, he was there. “You’re really pushing to not get laid,” she replied, pulling away just enough to look up. She didn’t hold eye contact for long, knowing he’d see the hesitation.

She wasn’t pushing him away. She might be trying to distract him, but she wasn’t getting frustrated. If she meant what she said, she would have already made her point, and stormed off. Sometimes, he swore she forgot who she was talking to. Like he didn’t know her every reaction, better than his own. He knew what every sigh, moan, huff meant. He knew what every tremor meant, good and bad. But it was her face that gave her away every time. Her eyes were still bright. She was trying so hard not to smirk. Her lips were barely parted. Nothing about her was on defensive, just guarded. “Where ya gonna go?” he asked, his other hand lifting her thigh higher on his hip. Feeling her calf tighten against his lower back, pulling him closer. Teasing her was a risk, but one he was glad he took, as the corner of her mouth twitched and a heavy sigh left her chest. She knew she had all the control. If she said back off, he’d leave it. If She asked him to stop, he would. She knew she didn’t have to worry he wouldn’t listen. He listened when she couldn’t say the words out loud. When she came to him thinking she wanted to be intimate, but she really only wanted to be held. She wanted to feel his touch, but not have him inside her. It happened more often, then it didn’t. And he never pushed. All he wanted, was as much as she was willing to give. He loved just holding her, feeling her calm, soft breath against his neck. Seeing how relaxed her face became, when she fell asleep in his arms. “Why don’t you wanna stay by yourself?” he asked, caressing her cheek. Feeling her breath catch, and her eyes immediately fall from his. Her fingers tighten in his shirt again. Her calf tightening against the back of his thigh, as if he was gonna move away. It was better than pushing him away, but it still worried him. “You’re okay,” he muttered, as she buried her face in his neck. His arm wrapping around her back, holding her as tight as he dared. He wished he could suck the fear from her skin.

Beth didn’t know if she was ready for the intense, painful conversations. She didn’t know if she was ready to talk about the real fear that lurked in the back of her mind. She didn’t know if she was emotionally prepared enough to open the box. Instead, she bit her tongue and played it safe. “I’m afraid to be alone,” she mumbled, it was mostly true. She was more vulnerable alone. She was more at risk of a serious attack when she was alone. And Rip might not make it to save her next time. But she didn’t feel any better saying it, because it wasn’t the complete truth. It physically hurt to lie to him anymore. She felt her body naturally tense. The tears burn in her throat. Her heart pounding hard in her neck.

It was the first time she said those words out loud. He could see it in her eyes after the Beck Brothers attack, after the bombing. But he hadn’t seen it in months. She seemed lighter. She was more relaxed. She found a routine that made her happy. He was so afraid of her slipping backwards. He didn’t want her abusing her body anymore. He didn’t want her drinking until she couldn’t hear the voices in her head. Taking pills to keep the memories and nightmares away, instead of confiding in him. He might not be the most comforting, sensitive, empathetic man to the outside world. But with her, he was. He couldn’t be anything but soft with her. Did he tell her when she was wrong, yep. Did he make her feel bad about it, absolutely not. They could always fix whatever she said or done later. “Why?” he asked softly, still running his fingers up and down the outside of her thigh, that still refused to loosen.

Beth focused on the bombing. She focused on how lost and lonely she felt wandering through the rumble that was once her office, sitting on the street. She could see people trying to talk to her, trying to help her, but she didn’t know who just tried to kill her. She wouldn’t even let the paramedics help her, until she saw Lynelle walk around the side of the ambulance. It was the first time in twenty minutes since the explosion occurred. She had someone familiar by her side. The Governor didn’t leave her when they pushed her through the emergency room doors. She answered the thousands of questions that Beth couldn’t hear. It wasn’t until they moved her onto the hospital bed, that she felt the pain erupt in her right side, causing her to scream like she never had before. It felt like everything from her shoulders to her hips was being ripped apart. It felt like her chest was gonna explode, as her heart pounding harder with every breath. “I heard you in the hospital, before they took me to the burn unit,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut so hard, she saw stars, remembering the sound of his voice bouncing off the walls of the hospital. Even with the ringing in her ears, even with the machines beeping and people talking, she would know her husbands voice anywhere. She saw him for a brief second, before the doors slammed closed behind her, locking him out for only he knew how long. She was given morphine quickly, and was out. “I heard…you screaming,” she stuttered, almost wincing as the faint sound filled her ears. The brief look of fear on his face, flashing behind her eyes. She didn’t remember much after the explosion, but she remembered that. She remembered how terrified he sounded. And then everything going black. The next thing she remembered, was waking up in her hospital room, and seeing his exhausted face. His hair was greasy. His clothes were wrinkled. He looked like he hadn’t showered in days. In realty, he never left the hospital. He never left her side the entire time she was unconscious. He couldn’t be coaxed to walk down the hall to eat in the cafeteria. Everything was brought to him. If someone wanted to see him, they had to come to her hospital room. He wouldn’t even go down stairs to check on her father, he left that to Lynelle and Jamie. They kept him updated everyday. Brought him food and clothes. Kept him informed about her job, the ranch. But he never left that room for almost thirty days.

The life flight tried to get him to the hospital before they took her to the burn unit. They tried to go as fast as they could. He tried to run through the hospital and find her in time. He remembered those four hours of pure terror. He really thought his wife was dead. He really thought God finally took the last person he cared about. He couldn’t breath, without feeling like his chest was being ripped apart. He could hear her screams through the phone. He could hear her crying, asking them to stop. Rip felt like he was right back to when the Beck Brothers attacked her. He got a small glimpse of hope she was alive, but could do nothing to help her. He couldn’t stop her pain. He couldn’t even be in the same room with her for so long, he thought he’d tear the hospital down. And in the back of his mind, he had to worry about his father in law being taken into emergency surgery. Barely clinging to life. Barely breathing the last time he saw him. “Because I didn’t know where you were for almost four hours,” he muttered low in her ear. Trying to keep his body relaxed and not slip back into those nearly life changing memories. If he stayed calm, it was easier for her body to follow.

She could feel how painful it was for him to talk about. He was the one left wondering and guessing. He was the one that had to depend on the word of her fathers girlfriend, her brother to get him to her before she lost consciousness. She always knew how hard he tried. How devastated he was, when he had to watch her disappear through locked doors. How helpless and useless he felt. Lynelle said, she’d never seen a man so devastated and destroyed while sitting in that waiting room. Nothing anyone said erased his guilt. No amount of comfort from the older woman made the silent tears stop. “I know…,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Exposing her face enough for him to kiss her cheek, nuzzle her ear. She wouldn’t know if Rip hadn’t told her. She couldn’t remember anything after she was taken away from him. She didn’t remember them cleaning and dressing her burns, the skin grafts, x-rays, CT scans, MRIs. She didn’t remember him screaming and crying for her to wake up, when they finally stopped pumping her body full of drugs. She didn’t remember him sitting by her side for so long, he almost forgot what the ranch looked like. But the moment she opened her eyes and saw him, she knew he hadn’t moved. The love and dedication that she’d always seen, were shining a thousand times brighter. “I don’t wanna do that again,” she exhaled, feeling his hands skin on her thigh and back. His fingers still massaging the sore muscles in her hip. His nails still drug lightly across her skin. He didn’t want to do that again either, she could feel it in the way he kissed her neck. She could see it every time he looked at her a certain way, especially in the mornings. When they were still alone, before the day got under their skin. When he took the most time to worship her body.

The last thing he wanted to do again, was find his father in law shot on the side of the road, and not being able to find his wife. He didn’t know how many times he called her phone. How many times he called Lynelle and Jamie to get to Beth’s office. The only thing they could tell him for thirty minutes, was they didn’t know where she was. They couldn’t get through the crowd of firefighters, ambulances, police, and bystanders. Eventually the older woman called for an escort, and was at his wife’s side within a few minutes. Jamie stayed behind to wait for the fire chiefs report. According to Lynelle, Beth was mostly awake on the ride to the hospital. She tried to talk, but couldn’t. She tried to move, but the paramedics wouldn’t let her. She tried to reach for the Governor’s hand, but they pushed the older woman out of the way. She stayed with her in the emergency room, out of reach, but there. She kept him on the phone for as long as she could. Continued telling him, she was doing okay, she was awake, but he needed to hurry before they took her back to the burn unit. He didn’t make it. “We won’t, baby,” he whispered, kissing her temple. Running his hand up the outside of her thigh. Trying to give her as much skin contact as he could without pulling away. She didn’t relax further into him like he expected. Her body still tensed, when he tried to pull back just to see her face. She still clung to him. It might bother her being alone, but that wasn’t the cause of her fear. That wasn’t the reason she was suddenly terrified. He could feel it pouring off her skin. He could feel her thighs tighten around him. Her fingers digging into his shirt. She wouldn’t have had any idea what happened while she was in and out of consciousness, if he hadn’t told her. She might have heard him screaming, but he didn’t have to tell her the rest. He didn’t have to say they were separated for much longer than four hours. If John and Beth were attacked around the same time, like Kaycee believed, then it had been much longer. She still only remembered flashes of what happened before and after the bombing. She said she remembered everything was normal when she got to the office. Her assistant wasn’t there yet, the lights were all off. She had enough time to turn on her computer and conference room lights, just as the young woman was walking through the second set of double doors. She saw the coffee in her hand. She saw the brown package in the other. She said she remembered trying to tell her not to open it, but it was too late. She remembered the initial sound, being thrown back into her filing cabinets. She said she didn’t remember how long she was unconscious, but when she woke up, she was under her desk, debris on top of her. She didn’t initially feel the pain, the burns on her back, the broken and fractured bones. The ringing in her ears, blocked out everything else. She could hear nothing but what sounded like a train coming right at her. There was smoke and dust rolling from the busted windows. She had no idea how she got outside. She had no memory of people from shops close by helping her. She didn’t remember Lynelle showing up just as they were loading her into the ambulance. Rip couldn’t be more grateful that she wasn’t really alone while he had no idea what was going on or where she was. The older woman was with her until he arrived. Beth didn’t remember any of it. He was surprised she remembered him screaming the second he stepped through the doors of the emergency room. Only thinking the worst when Kaycee told him what her office looked like, that her assistance body had just been recovered under rubble. He thought he was gonna loss her that day, he really did. It was the most terrified he’d ever been. But that’s not what was causing her reaction now. “That’s not what’s bothering you,” he whispered low in her ear, asking her to dig just a little deeper. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know what was haunting her, that she couldn’t seem to shake. He had a feeling what it really was, because she still refused to talk about it.

Beth couldn’t hold back anymore. She felt the safest she’d felt ,since the attack, in that moment. In the dark, closed off crawlspace that no one ever ventured to. His smell surrounding her, every time she took a deep breath. She could feel his slow, steady heart beat under her fingers. His warm hands on her skin. His body pressed between her legs. His lips kissing her cheek and ear, down her neck. He was always so familiar. “Someone might come back,” she exhaled into his neck, trying to hold in the whimper that was building in her throat. It wasn’t the explosion that caused her separation anxiety, fear. She was now at the point in therapy, that they were going backwards. She had to talk about the sexual assault, the beating. The murder right in front of her. That’s when she shut down. That’s when the nightmares returned, the anxiety, the panic attacks. She hadn’t thought about it in so long, being thrown right back into the violence, caused her mind to drift anywhere else. She knew she had to deal with it, but she didn’t know how.

The Beck Brothers attack had changed something inside her, that only he seemed to be able to see. Maybe he was the only one she allowed to see it. There was always an alertness to her body, especially in public. There was always a darker look in her usually bright green eyes. A neediness that was never there before. She hadn’t once pushed him away since the attack. She hadn’t yelled at him. She hadn’t told him to leave. In fact, she begged him to stay. She moved into the cabin with him. She was always there when he got home in the afternoon. She wasn’t running off to find a new battle to fight. She wasn’t going to work, or even accepting calls. The only time she even considered leaving his sight, was to go get Monica from town, but he was too insistent. But as much as she changed, she still wouldn’t talk about. Knowing the details wouldn’t help him help her, but it might help release some of the fear. He knew how to help her. The safer she felt, the more she could heal. The more secure she felt in their marriage, the more she could focus on breathing. Eventually, she would talk about it, just like everything else she kept buried inside. “Hey…,” he whispered, caressing her neck, kissing the corner of her mouth. Finally moving enough to look at her face. Tilting her chin, and capturing her lips in a soft kiss before she could contemplate looking away. She responded immediately, like she always had. “I got you,” he mumbled against her lips. Running his fingers along her bottom lip. Tracing her chin, her cheek bone. Ignoring the scars that bothered her every time she looked in the mirror. He would destroy everything in his path, if someone tried to hurt her again. He wouldn’t need her father’s permission anymore, she was his wife. He’d protect her, shield her, until it killed him.

She knew he would take a bullet over and over again for her. He would take a beating, just to save her from one. He would defend her, protect her, for as long as he was breathing. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to. That didn’t mean he should HAVE to. “You can’t be with me all the time,” she swallowed hard at the thought, even though he wasn’t with her all the time now. She wanted him to be, but he wasn’t, and normally she was fine. She couldn’t shake her own feeling of vulnerability all of a sudden. She couldn’t make the flashes of a strangers face, as he forced himself on her, to stop appearing in her mind. She couldn’t get the feeling of his breath and touch from her skin. She could almost smell him when it was a really bad day. She could typically push her thoughts away. She could keep the box locked. But wasn’t the point of therapy to unlock it?

She was right. He couldn’t be with her all the time. He couldn’t keep an eye on her 24/7. That didn’t mean he couldn’t try. That didn’t mean he couldn’t put everything he had into making her feel safe and protected. To make sure she knew he was always a phone call away. That he would burn down the world, to get to her. “Wanna bet?” he whispered low in her ear. If she needed to be with him all day and night, they’d figure it out. She could follow him around all day long if she needed or wanted. Her company was always welcome.

Beth knew he would do everything he could to make her feel calm and safe. He wouldn’t care if she started getting up with him again every morning and following him down to the barn. It reminded them both of when they were in their teens. She always ran down to the barn when she knew he was getting up, just to sit with him, eat with him, before she ran to catch the bus for school. Immediately running down to find him as soon as she got home, whether she was in a bad mood or not. Every time she returned home from college, for whatever break or holiday; she was coming to find him first. She was crawling into his bed that first night, searching for his familiarity. She was so clingy, so needy for his touch, his smell. They were inseparable for days, until she remembered what she’d done. That didn’t stop her from still continuing the same pattern after she moved to Salt Lake City. Every time her father called her home, all she thought about was Rip. Every time she got closer and closer to the Yellowstone Ranch, she got butterflies in her belly. It was the only time she could completely let her guard down, knowing she was safe with him. She didn’t have to be strong. She didn’t have to fight. She could just breathe. “Can I still go?” she asked, still unsure that he really wanted her to go. Just because she told him what was bothering her, didn’t mean she was suddenly over it. She was still antsy that someone was still angry enough with her father to take it that far again. And this time, she wouldn’t be so lucky. Rip would be two days away on horseback. Everyone would be two days away. She would have to depend on the state police, and she might as well kill herself waiting.

He wanted her to ask more of him, if he wasn’t giving her enough. He wanted her to talk more. He wanted her to tell him every single little thought inside her head. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough saying anything, without assuming he would react badly; he never had. “You don’t have to ask to go anywhere with me,” he reassured, tilting her chin again, encouraging her to make eye contact. After a few silent seconds, she finally did. The storm was slowly clearing in her eyes. She took a deep breath for the first time since sitting on the steps. Her fingers slowly started to loosen in the fabric of his shirt. Her thigh and calf still didn’t relax. She still wanted him to stay close. She wanted him in the spaces she felt most vulnerable. He couldn’t help smiling against her lips, as she pulled him further between her legs by his belt loops. Her fingers wandering to the button just underneath the metal belt buckle. “I want you with me everywhere I go; all the time,” he whispered low against her wet lips. His fingers back to playing with the piece of cloth against her bare hip. Tracing the lace material with his thumb, until he nearly dipped between her legs. Feeling the goosebumps begin to cover her skin, the slight tremor run down her back. She almost whimpered, as his fingers avoided where she wanted them. “You might get sick of me,” he smirked, before covering her lips again. Kissing her a little rougher, a little messier. He couldn’t hold back the groan that grew in his chest, as he felt her fingers pushing the leather strap of his belt through the first metal loop. Undoing the clip and pushing it through the second, before he felt the tension give on his jeans.

She could never get tired of him. She wasn’t twenty five anymore. She wasn’t hiding secrets. She wasn’t running. Even when she was with him all the time now, she still craved him. It still felt like it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be with him all the time. She wanted to feel him around her every chance she could get. She wanted to smell him, feel his warm skin against hers. She knew what it felt like without him, she spent decades experiencing it, she didn’t want that anymore. “Not possible,” she muttered, as she leaned back just enough to continue playing with the button on his jeans, until it finally popped open. Her fingers dipping below the hem, catching the edge of his shirt between them. Nipping and licking at his bottom lip. Now that all her anxiety had been washed away, she could focus on how it felt as he touched her. All she could think about, was having him inside her. “Will you touch me now?” she asked, as he tried to catch her lips, but she turned away. Smirking, as he growled into her neck. His teeth grazing her shoulder, as he brushed the strap of her dress down her arm. The fingers on her back playing with the zipper, until it gave a few inches, but it was enough to allow the fabric to fall, if she let it.

For a long moment, he ignored her words. Dragging his teeth along her bare shoulder, giving her enough space to drop the straps of her dress. She probably could have done it faster, if his fingers weren’t running along her drenched panties, causing her to gasp and try to arch her hips for more contact. He didn’t give it to her. Instead, he waited for the front of her dress to slip just enough, before his mouth covered her hard nipple. Sucking lightly and grazing the sensitive nerves with his teeth. Running his tongue across her flesh. Thankful that he still had his arm braced behind her, as she threw her head back and arched further into him. Gasping his name, as he slowing switched to her other breast. Giving it the same attention, listening to her whimper and moan, before leaving open mouth kisses up her neck, nuzzling her ear. “What the hell am I doing?” he growled, sucking at the spot behind her that made her moan, and he wasn’t disappointed. He didn’t even try to silence her. He didn’t care if the entire ranch heard them. John and Lloyd were taking Carter out to the next pasture for a practice ride before they leave in the morning, as long as their son wasn’t around, he didn’t care. He felt her fingers slip back under the hem of his jeans, felt her messing with the zipper, but couldn’t force her brain to focus enough to get it undone.

If it was any other afternoon, Beth would have become frustrated quickly. But she was too fascinated by her husbands tongue and mouth on her skin to bother rushing him. She was enjoying his roughness to push for more too quickly. It had been too long since she felt his possessive, needy touch. Feeling how hard he was under his jeans, it was possible he was more aroused than she was. She didn’t come looking for him in the middle of the day for sex very often anymore. She was more than content to just be with him, talk to him. She didn’t have to hide her feelings and secrets with rough sex. All she had to do, was show just a little interest, and all Rip’s attention was on her. That’s why he never got to the barn when he planned in the mornings. That’s usually when she was the most needy, the most wanting. Now, she was needy for a different reason. She’d just been vulnerable. She felt the memories trying to resurface. She saw the flashes of the day in her office, like a video that just wouldn’t stop playing. She needed to erase it. She needed her husband’s smell on her skin. “Teasing…,” she was barely able to mumble, before his thumb grazed her aching nipple. His mouth covering hers. His tongue more possessive, causing her to pull on the zipper of his jeans, but her fingers slipped, causing him to almost laugh against her lips. She couldn’t help but smile. Hearing his laugh meant more to her, than anything in the world. She loved that he was so happy, that’s all she ever wanted.

He was teasing, but also worshiping his wife. He loved tasting her skin, listening to the moans, gasps, and whimpers that filled the silence. He loved feeling the goosebumps develop wherever he touched. Just because he just tasted every inch of her the night before, it didn’t mean he’d had enough. He could love on her for days, and still want more. “Well we talked about communicating better, give it a try,” he coaxed, kissing her cheek. Returning to kissing and sucking the other side of her neck. His hand knocking hers away, for his own to run up the inside of her thigh. Lightly grazing her panties. Feeling how wet her thong already was. They were ruined, and she wouldn’t care when she realized it. It wouldn’t be the first time she threw a pair in the trash, and he doubted it would be the last. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered low in her ear. Licking and biting the pulse in her neck, causing another gasp and moan to fill the silence. He was only asked to attend one therapy session with her, it was difficult to sit and watch her cry, as she said things to a stranger, that she hadn’t said to him. That she felt she couldn’t say, for whatever reason. It hurt knowing she was sitting with him, and still suffering in silence, feeling she couldn’t reach out. HE wanted to communicated better. He was determined after that appointment, that he would push for more a little at a time. He would put everything he had into making her feel she really could say anything, and not have to worry how he would react. He tried not to react at all, until he knew what she was needing from him in that moment.

Beth hadn’t wanted him to come to her therapy appointments, that’s why she never asked. She was dealing with her childhood trauma, the abortion that left her with a wound she never thought would heal. She had enough to talk about between her mother, father and brother to last almost a full year. Dealing with the aftermath of the sterilization took much longer than she hoped. It felt like her chest was being ripped open, every time it was brought up. Every time she had to say how much she wanted a child with her husband. Carter wasn’t the same thing. She loved him and protected him like he as her own. She would die for him. But he wasn’t hers. He wasn’t a replacement for what they couldn’t have. He meant something all his own in her heart. Beth didn’t know how her therapist found out about the near rape. She couldn’t remember if she mentioned the assault and murder of her assistant while she was raging or not. She knew she didn’t tell the woman while she was levelheaded. She didn’t like talking about it. She refused with most people. Even Rip didn’t bring it up often. She didn’t know that would be the subject of the session when her therapist requested her husband attend. She believed it was to ensure she was taking the medication, wasn’t drinking, was coping as well as she seemed to be, but it wasn’t. He had to sit beside her and listen to things she never thought she’d say out loud. Hearing details that caused his hand to fall to her knee in silent support. Having to listen to her cry, did cause him immense pain. It was the most uncomfortable hour of their lives. And it became even more uncomfortable when they were alone in the truck. They only made it half way home before he pulled over, apologizing, promising to listen to everything she had to say, as long as she kept talking. He would do anything she asked, as long as she told him. All he wanted was to help her, he just needed to know how. “Rip…,” she whimpered, feeling his fingers grazing her panties, run along the hem, but still not touching her where she needed. Still not giving her what he knew she wanted. He wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t his first time touching her. He wanted to hear her say it.

The cowboy didn’t need help. He didn’t need her to say a word, if she really didn’t want to. He could have her cumming in five minutes. He wasn’t bragging. It took twenty years of learning her body, her moods, her thoughts to be able to read every cue she freely gave; he just had to take the time to see it. She was so turned on, so close to the edge already, he knew he could curl his fingers a few times, and she would be gone. But he wanted her talking. Being intimate was the most relaxed she would be all day, the most open. There were no truths or questions to contemplate. All she had to express, was how she felt. How she wanted him to touch her. What she needed to push her into bliss. He wanted to give her back some of the control she was willingly giving away. “Not very specific,” he whispered, kissing her temple. No matter if she wanted it rough or not, he couldn’t stop taking those moments to be soft and careful. Maybe it was his version of giving her a moment to breathe. To make sure she wanted what she thought she wanted. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally hurt her. “Come on, use that big college brain, it’s gotta be a dictionary by now,” he nearly groaned, as his fingers slipped below the wet fabric, running through her trimmed damp hair. Barely grazing her drenched lips, but keeping away from where he knew she needed to be touched.

Her brain might have been a dictionary when she was fighting battles for her father, or the ranch. But with Rip touching her, her mind was blank. For the first time since he left the house after breakfast, her thoughts weren’t racing. She could finally think, focus. It took her a moment, a few deep breaths, before she was able to put any kind of coherent thought together. It took her even longer, when she made eye contact. His eyes were dark, but the spark behind them caused a tremor to run down her back, taking her breath. If she were across the room, not feeling how hard he was under her fingers, she could see how aroused he was. How turned on. How much he wanted to bury himself inside her, taste her. She had to swallow hard, lick her now dry lips and lose eye contact, before the words tumbled out. “If you want me to talk dirty, baby, all you gotta do is say it,” she finally muttered low in his ear. Biting his neck a little harder. Sucking just enough to know there would be a mark when they left the crawl space. His fingers digging into her back. She already knew he wanted her to. She could feel the groan building in his chest at the thought.

He swore she was getting wetter by the second. He felt the hot liquid covering his fingers, as he grazed her entrance. He felt her sigh against his cheek. Her hips try to move, but she couldn’t as long as he wouldn’t step away. He wouldn’t give her space to find purchase. He felt her teeth nip at his neck, suck harder than she usually would. He wanted nothing more than for her to tell him, in detail, exactly what she wanted. It turned him on so much more, when she was as graphic as he knew she was about to be. “Talk dirty,” he couldn’t help groaning, as a single finger slipped slowly into her heat, giving her a little encouragement. She was so warm, so tight and soft, he could have embarrassed himself right there. The gasp and low moan that filled the air, as her muscles clenched and relaxed around him, was almost too much. But he was too curious what her brain would come up with next to fill her just yet.

She purred in his ear. Easily gaining some of her confidence back. It had never been easy expressing herself emotionally, but physically, was as easy as a well practiced dance. He wanted to get on his knees so bad, she could feel it in the way his fingers moved softly between her legs. Normally, she would gladly let him. After twenty something years of him exploring her body, she didn’t need to ask or direct. He knew exactly what she needed every time. He knew she didn’t need the extra stimulation. She didn’t need the extra push, despite butterflies fluttering in her belly at the thought. All her pleasurable firsts happened with him. Every confused explorative touch. He marked her at thirteen and she hadn’t even realized it, until she tried to with someone else. Nothing felt the same. She didn’t get butterflies in her belly. She didn’t get goosebumps on her skin. They barely touched that regretful night in the truck. That didn’t stop the dumbass from lying and bragging they did. He died the next night. Her father told her he fell off a horse, but Beth knew what happened. She tried to tell him nothing happened. She tried to make him believe her. To this day, she still didn’t think he did. She never had sex with any other cowboy but Rip. She might flaunt her body. She might tease and get right to the edge of their hand in her pants, but she always pushed them away. Walker was the same, except he pushed her away that night. He knew exactly who she belonged to, and wasn’t willing to start a war he’d never win. Everyone just assumed he got in her pants. To their credit, she didn’t do much to deter the thoughts and rumors. She laughed at them. She regretted those moments now.

Rip was the only man she’d been with that actually encouraged her to let him touch and taste every part of her body. The first time he tried to get on his knees, she refused and pushed him away, he didn’t take it at face value. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know what he could do to make her feel more comfortable. Reminding her that everything was normal. She didn’t let him make her cum on his tongue until a few weeks before she found out she was pregnant, almost a year after they started sleeping together. He tried every time before, but she always pushed him away. Everyone since him, didn’t care if she let them or not. She never came if they tried anyway. She was so used to explosive orgasms no matter how Rip touched her. No one else could provide the pleasure he could, and there was no point in pushing herself to try.

She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted him pounding inside her, like he used to when they were sneaking around, afraid of getting caught. She wanted him bruising her skin from needing to be inside her so bad. But she couldn’t say that. He didn’t like marking her skin. He didn’t like the idea of ‘fucking’ her anymore. He was so much more softer with her now. So careful, usually taking his time. She just experienced it that morning. But those slow moments, were what turned him on the most. Beth licked her lips, kissed his neck. Her fingers playing with the waist band of his boxers. Working them under his black t shirt, feeling his cool tight belly tense and relax. His breath catching in her ear, as her nails trailed lightly down his ribs. “I wanna feel the head of your cock stretching me open,” she gasped, as his fingers slowly curled inside her. She had to breath hard, dig her nails in his skin, not to lean in to the pleasure he was sending rocketing through her blood. His thumb grazing her clit so softly, she couldn’t help groaning in frustration. She felt his hand tighten on her back, his teeth on her shoulder. “I wanna feel you slowly slip deep inside me, filling me like no one else,” she moaned, feeling his fingers leisurely moving inside her. His mouth on her neck, as her hand slipped back to his boxers. She wanted his cock bottoming out inside her. She wanted to feel the butterflies and fullness in her belly. She wanted to feel every ridge of him. She meant it when she said no one filled her, satisfied her like him. She was the one that came within minutes of him being inside her. He could hold out just fine. He touched something deep inside her, that no one else seemed to find. Maybe it was all in her mind, but no one had her falling apart as quickly as him. And in her opinion, she didn’t tell him enough. “I wanna feel you throbbing inside me,” she gasped, finally slipping her fingers below his waist band. The moan that came from his chest, as she took him in her hand, almost made her come. He was so hard, as her fingers lightly ran up his dick, it almost felt painful to her. That didn’t stop her thumb from running over his large swollen head, catching the pre-cum that had already started seeping with need. She wanted to lick it off, like she normally would. She almost ached to taste him. But she knew as soon as she did, she wouldn’t be talking anymore. “The pressure of pleasure you build in my belly,” she exhaled, as his finger moved a little faster between her legs. His lips sucking harder on her neck. His teeth nipping at the pulse behind her ear. She couldn’t help using his arousal to move easier up and down his full length. Feeling him try to refrain from thrusting into her touch. She could feel it in the tension that suddenly built in his back. “You make me cum so hard when you’re inside me,” she gasped, as his fingers slowly left her body. Her hands were pushed away.

Rip had to push her hands away. Not because he didn’t want her touching him, but if she continued, he WOULD embarrass himself. Between her words, and the feeling of her fingers running up and down his sensitive dick, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was still careful removing his fingers from her body. Hearing to needy, frustrated groan grow in her chest. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, capturing her mouth in a messy, hungry kiss. His tongue possessing her, as her nails dug into his neck. She panted against his lips, trying to get him to move. Trying to force more contact, as her arousal grew beyond backing away now. If something interrupted them, they would see a real tornado begin. He pushed both boots from her feet, let his jeans and boxers finally drop around his ankles. He wasn’t worried about being caught. Even if someone dared come looking, he could easily cover her exposed body. He was more worried about the heel of her boot cutting him, than anyone finding them. If he would have cared enough, he would have ripped her socks away too. He loved feeling every inch of her flesh against him, his mind wasn’t even focused on where they were anymore. He just wanted to hear her, feel her cum around him.

Beth was pulled hard to the edge of the workbench. His breath hot on her face. The fire she saw in his eyes, caused the one in her belly to nearly explode. She felt his fingers digging into her hips. Moving along her pelvis, across her belly. She felt the snap of her thong against her hip. The pull of the fabric. She could feel the frustrated growl vibrating in his chest. When she didn’t move to help him rid her of the only barrier left between them, only running her fingers slowly along the buttons of his shirt, before popping one after another free, biting at the spot behind his ear that made him pulse in her hand, he nearly groaned in her ear, before the sound of ripping fabric filled the silence. She felt herself immediately get wetter. Her belly ached from how aroused she was. “I want you to fuck me,” she gasped, as she felt his thumb tracing her soaked lips, only grazing her aching clit. No matter how much she tried to squirm, she couldn’t force more contact. He now had her hips pinned. Her thigh positioned too high on his hip to gain any useful leverage. She was finally at his mercy. No matter how needy she was, it WAS what she wanted. For him to have control. For her to give up all the responsibility she carried every day, and trusting him not to push her too far.

He could feel her try to squirm for half a second, trying to get more contact, before relaxing in his arms again. Her eyes were dark and clouded with arousal. Like a violent storm slowly moving in. Her chest flushed. Her freckles more prominent on her over heated skin. Her pulse pounding in her neck. Her belly and thighs quivering with need. “I wanna hear you,” he muttered against her wet lips. Feeling her already trying to suppress her needy gasps and moans. It had become such a habit, she didn’t have to think about being quiet anymore, she just was. He didn’t like it. He loved and craved hearing every sound she could make. Every whimper, moan, whisper of his name in the throws of ecstacy was what drove him over the edge in the end. He loved hearing her pleasure, not just feeling it around him. “Every fucking sound,” he groaned, as a hot flush filled her cheeks. He knew exactly how loud she could be, and how to touch her in order to receive those beautiful sounds. He just needed her to let go and trust he wouldn’t let her be vulnerable, and not be there to protect her. He would risk someone hearing them, hearing HER, if he was sure no would would. He was more than positive she could be as loud as she wanted, and no one would hear a sound.

She was quiet for a reason; their son was sleeping right across the hall at the moment. He slept hard. It usually took Rip going to wake him up in the morning, because her father didn’t have the heart to yell at him. Truthfully, her husband didn’t either. She saw the uncomfortable, painful look on his face every time it happened, but the boy had to wake up somehow. She didn’t want to risk him hearing anything sexual, especially involving them. His last foster parents abused him in ways a child should never experience. She didn’t want him to hear them, or her, and think back to those moments. That’s why she pulled him from the bunkhouse. He didn’t need to be exposed to more sexual jokes, or activity than he’d already seen and heard. The cowboys meant well, but she wanted him to actually be a boy for a little while. He had plenty of time to be a man later. She didn’t care if anyone else heard her. She wasn’t the one that would have to hear it from the others later. No one was brave enough to comment or pick at her, but they would Rip. If he wanted to hear her, she’d make it worth it. She had months of built up pleasure to release. She wasn’t naturally quiet. She wanted to be loud. It took a lot of self control in order to keep herself as quiet as she did. “And so will everyone else,” she gasped louder than she had in months, feeling the head of his cock running through her soaked lips. His mouth against her ear. He didn’t care. She could tell, the entire ranch could hear her, and he’d smile about it later.

He knew she wasn’t worried about just anyone. She might be concerned about John hearing them, but he’d known since they were fourteen. He’d caught them plenty of times. Shit, he killed someone because they were saying the most disgusting things about her. It was an accident, but he couldn’t say he regretted it either. She was worried about Carter. She didn’t know where he was, who he was with in that moment, but he did. No one that mattered was on the property. Even if John and Lloyd turned around now, they wouldn’t be back for at least another hour. They had time. “No one’s here…” he reassured low in her ear, kissing her flushed cheek. Receiving a relieved sigh in response. Her fingers tightening in his shirt, popping the rest of the buttons free. He let it fall to the ground with her boots, after a little reluctance. He now had it in his head, that someone COULD come back. Some could want to hurt her again. He needed to be prepared to defend her. He wasn’t that worried about it before she said it out loud. He wanted to stop her from trying to push his t-shirt over his head, but he couldn’t say no to feeling her warm, soft skin against his own. He quickly ripped it off and threw it somewhere behind him. “I don’t get to hear you enough anymore,” he groaned, feeling the head of his cock slip inside her. The way her breath caught in her throat, her nails digging into his back, caused his dick to flex. She was already so close to cumming. She was so tight, he was almost afraid to move.

Beth had time to take a breath, before he bottomed out inside her. She wasn’t lying when she said he filled her, stretched her like no one else. The way the head of his cock brushed against that spot inside her that was almost guaranteed to make her spray his stomach. The way every vein grazed her sensitive walls, caused her internal muscles to contract. She felt like she was home, when he was so still inside her. She felt safe. She always had. Not because he was the first boy to touch her. Not because he was so familiar after so long. Because he was the only man that ever loved her completely. “Fuck,” she moaned, as he slowly filled her. She wanted to watch her husbands face. She wanted to see his eyes light up as pleasure took over, but she couldn’t. Her eyes slammed closed, as her breath was taken. She tried to arch her back, but his arm wouldn’t let her. Instead, she nuzzled his cheek, breathing him in. Trying to catch her breath. Her fingers digging into his shoulders, trying to hold him as close as possible. Never wanting him to pull out. Never wanting the feeling of emptiness again, even though she knew it was inevitable.

Rip was slow on purpose, and no matter her encouragement, he refused to go any faster. He’d only made that mistake once, causing her to bleed and pull away. He could feel her nails scratching into his neck, as he barely pushed inside her. He felt her body tense for a split second, before relaxing as he paused. Waiting for her body to naturally open for him, before pushing the rest of the way inside. No matter how much she wanted it hard, she still needed time to adjust. She was still tight and sensitive. The last thing he wanted to do, was cause her to push him away in pain. Even though she was moaning, he could tell the difference in pure pleasure, and a mixture of bliss and uncomfortableness. “Just breathe, baby,” he muttered against her temple. Pushing away the need to move, and focusing on her scent instead. It was the only way to refocus his mind, and forget he needed to cum.

It only took a few seconds for her brain to beg for him to move. Needing the only high she would receive since stopping her other coping habits. The only untamed pleasure, that could never have a consequence. But her body wasn’t ready. Still sensitive from the hours of loving making the night before, and that morning. Despite what he and everyone else might assume, she didn’t have sex that often when she was away. And Rip wasn’t a small man, by any stretch of her imagination. Sometimes it was uncomfortable for the first few seconds, but he knew that. She rested her forehead against his shoulder, feeling his lips on her temple, taking a few deep breaths. Letting her body naturally relax around him. “Please move…,” she moaned, even though, she knew he would move when he was a thousand percent positive she really was ready. But he moans, caused his cock to flex and twitch inside her. She felt his teeth graze her ear, his breath heavy on her neck.

Rip was thankful for the moment of stillness. He was so close to losing control, it made him feel fourteen again. Like he was feeling her for the first time. “I’m not gonna last long,” he muttered through clenched teeth. He was a man that prided himself on having full control of his body. He could normally hold out until she came the second time, sometimes the third; not this time.

Beth felt so close to cumming it would almost be embarrassing if she cared. She was so used to her husband throwing her into exstacy quickly, it was almost normal. He knew she wouldn’t last much longer. She knew he could feel it every time her muscles involuntarily contracted around him. The way her body tried to arch into him. He wouldn’t have to try that hard for everyone to hear her screams across the ranch. “Neither will I,” she gasped, his fingers dig into the skin of her hip. His lips and teeth sucking and biting at her neck and shoulder. She would have marks that he would worship, and feel bad for, later. “Baby, please…,” she whimpered, feeling his hand slide to her lower back, before slowly pulling out of her and slamming back inside. Enough to take her breath, cause her arousal to start building to its peak, but it wasn’t as hard as he could.

Rip was only giving her muscles a chance to adjust and relax around him, before giving her exactly what she wanted. He didn’t want to feel her body tense. He didn’t want to see uncomfortableness on her face. He’d rather her beg a little longer, if it meant she would experience nothing but pleasure. “You have no idea how good you feel, sweetheart,” he groaned, feeling her fingers relax on his back. A deep breath ghost across his neck. Her belly stopped quivering. He wasn’t as poetic as she was. He wasn’t good with expressing how he felt. He wanted to tell her, no one had ever felt like she did. No other woman’s body could ever make him feel complete, like hers. No one ever made his heart nearly stop, goosebumps cover his skin, a chill run down his spine, like her. Everything bad in the world melted away. Every memory that threatened to resurface, vanished. All that existed was her. All he saw was her. No one else could do that. She was so special, and she couldn’t even see it.

Beth had a pretty good idea the pleasure he felt while slipping inside her. She felt the same intensity, that she never felt with anyone else. It was almost like the first time, every time. She wasn’t trying to be rude in the bar, when she said city boys were a soft fuck; it was simply the truth. They were too needy for approval. Too afraid of hurting her, to listen to the cues her body was clearly giving. Too eager for her to tell them exactly what she wanted. She had sex to give up control. To finally let someone else have the reigns for a while. No other man, but Rip, took the responsibility and opportunity with a seriousness she’d never seen. “Rip…,” she whined louder than she had in the last year. She wanted him to hear how needy and wanting she was. She wanted him to get more and more turned on from the sounds she made.

The cowboy nuzzled her cheek, before setting the same pace he had the first morning he found out she came home. Not hard enough to leave bruises on her thighs, but enough to make her moan louder than he’d heard in a long time. The moans he remembered before they moved into the main house. Before they became less adventurous. Her calves tightened around his hips. He could feel and hear how much more aroused she was becoming. He could feel her wetness already coating his lower belly. He could already feel her internal muscles start to contract harder, the muscles in her stomach trembling. He had to ignore his own building orgasm. He had to ignore the fire igniting in his blood, like it was gasoline, ready to explode. “Oh, baby, please cum,” he moaned in her ear. Licking and sucking at the pulse pounding hard in her neck. Watching all the stress, fear, and concentration disappear from her face. Her lips wet and parted. An erotic moan left her chest every time he bottomed out inside her, not that he was being any quieter. If he was gonna ask her to let go, he had to be right there with her.

As much as Beth wanted the feeling of him buried inside her, keep him there forever, the pleasure he caused to explode in her veins, she needed to cum. All she wanted, was the ultimate pleasure she knew was inevitable. She could feel how hard he was, every time he entered her. She could feel every vein pulsing, his cock straining. His fingers wondering from her hip, caressing her breast, his thumb running lightly over her hard nipple. She was so close to cumming all over his thighs. So close to seeing fireworks behind her eyes. She could see the edge just barely out of reach. “I need…,” she gasped against his cheek, her fingers running through the hair on the back of his neck. His moans and gasps much louder in her ear than they were that morning. Before her brain had a chance to verbalize what she needed to push her over the edge, she felt his fingers trailing from her breasts, down her belly, to the wet, sticky mess between her legs. His thumb easily finding her clit, barely grazing her swollen flesh, but it was enough to make her moan like she hadn’t since the night with the wolves. Her body trembling as she was quickly pushed right to the edge of oblivion. It only took a few seconds more, before she was free falling. Fire exploding in her belly. Her blood hot in her veins. Her breath catching in her chest. She couldn’t help moaning his name into the still silence. The pressure releasing in her belly and lower back. Her fingers and toes tingling. And each time he bottomed out inside her, faster and harder the tighter she contracted around him, it was almost as if she were pushed higher. She came longer and harder, compared to the night before. And just when the aftershocks took over, Beth felt his hot cum coat her tight walls. Mixing with the essence already drenching her thighs. The groans that came from his chest, were so familiar, but felt like she was hearing them for the first time. The way his fingers wrapped around her thigh, tightened in her hair, as he worked through his remaining pleasure, felt like the first day she returned home. He was so possessive. So easy to take control, it reminded her why she loved him so much. She could just be with him.

The pleasure Rip felt as he finally came inside her, could only be described as heaven. He was blinded by pure bliss. He felt nothing, remembered nothing, but how much pleasure he felt in that moment. He didn’t grip her thigh too hard, as he raised it just a little higher over his ribs, supporting her weight, as he rode out the remnants of his orgasm. Pulling her long blonde hair just enough to expose her neck. Biting and sucking harder than he probably should have, but by the way her hips continued moving against him, her continued moans of pleasure, she wouldn’t be complaining. Just as his aftershocks began, he felt her slightly tighten around him again, her body shuttering against his chest. Her earlier moans turning into whimpers, as she quietly came again. He quickly let go of her hair, as she buried her face in his neck. Her body trembling, as he slowly lowered her thigh. Her heart pounding in her neck, as his arm tightened around her back, holding her close. Feeling her internal muscles slowly stop fluttering, as he kissed her temple, nuzzling her now sweaty hair. “You’re always so beautiful, baby,” he whispered against her cheek, feeling her slowly smile, as she still tried to catch her breath. She was always beautiful, but in those pleasurable moments of abandon, it was as if her entire face lit up. All the stress, pain, guilt, fear disappeared; and left her with only feelings of bliss.

For a moment, it felt like they were seventeen. Not a worry in the world. Both finding comfort and connection in the darkness of the barn. She wasn’t worried about work, or her father’s property. She wasn’t worried about her son, in the back of her mind, she knew he was safe and didn’t need to be concerned. She wasn’t worried about what they would do if they lost the ranch. She relaxed in the quiet moment with him, knowing it would be a while before they got another. “I’ve missed us like this,” she muttered, as the aftershocks disappeared, and left her completely sated. She didn’t miss sneaking around, hiding how she felt. She missed not having the weight of the world on their shoulders. She missed the isolation she used to be able to have with him.

He understood exactly what she was asking for. She wanted to be alone with him, where they couldn’t be interrupted. Miles away from civilization, no cell reception. She wanted to feel the grass on her bare back, while he licked every inch of her body. She didn’t want to hesitate, before straddling his thighs first thing in the morning. “I can fix that,” he reassured, promising himself to give her more time. More time away. More time with him. If she was willing to ask for it, he would figure out how to give it to her. John wouldn’t hesitate to give him the time off, just to spend with his daughter. “We start going for a ride every other weekend,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth. Watching her bright, now sleepy, eyes flutter open and connect with his. When they got to the pasture tomorrow, he would make sure to set up their tent away from everyone else. She couldn’t be loud like she just was, but she could have that feeling of isolation with him. In a few weeks, he’d plan to take her to their field a few miles away, stay a few days. Giving her nothing but his full attention for an entire forty eight hours. Letting her be as loud as she wanted. No one could hear them. No one could find them even if they were trying, Rip made sure of that before picking the spot years ago. They were in the dead center of John’s property, covered by trees, by the small stream. No one came out that far, unless there was a missing cow or calf. No enemies dared be that deep on Dutton land and risk getting caught. No bears or wolves wondered that far away from the park, however, he always took the shotgun just in case. He’d rather have it and not need it. “Let the wildlife hear you all you want,”he teased, but watching the smile slowly spread across her face, light up her tired eyes, made him want the next few weeks to pass faster than he knew it would.

Beth knew exactly where he wanted to take her. The spot he found a few years ago. The place where he wanted to marry her, until she panicked and thought she was going to prison. She wished she’d taken a breath that day, talked to him. She wished she’d given him the moment he wanted. One day soon she would. “I’d love that,” she muttered against his lips. Her breath catching as she finally felt him slowly pull out. She knew he wasn’t hard anymore, and stayed buried inside her as long as his body allowed, but it still felt like a loss every time. It was almost a shock to her system. She couldn’t help whining and burying her face in his chest. She could feel his fingers pulling the dress back over her exposed breasts, adjusting the straps on her shoulders. She felt his hands wonder to her back, massaging her sore muscles. Holding her close, longer than she needed that morning. Feeling her warm skin, before pulling the zipper up her spine, as if nothing happened, just like twenty years ago. Even as a young teen, Rip was always sweet after sex. He always helped her redress, if she let him. Always took care of whatever she needed first, before worrying about himself.

All Rip cared about was getting her back to the house. She needed to get cleaned up. He knew how uncomfortable she would begin to feel in the next ten minutes. Their arousal would start to seep down her thighs, causing them to be sticky when she walked; and they still had to walk back to his truck. He didn’t want her to start itching and burning. He didn’t want her back on antibiotics for the tenth time. Her body was so much more sensitive than it used to be, he wanted to take care of her. She tried reassuring him, it was only because they were having more sex than she was used to. He had to take her word for it, and trust she would tell him if he was doing something that was making it worse. She always said he wasn’t, but he still took the responsibility to make it better. He’d beg her to get in the shower with him when they got back to the house. The warm water washing over her sore back would help. Mostly, he wanted to make sure all his cum was actually gone. “Come on, let’s get you back to the house,” he whispered against her temple, as she took deep breaths to adjust to the sudden change. He knew she wanted to curl up with him and doze off. He knew she needed to feel him against her skin after so much roughness. She needed his strong, warm comfort, at least for a few hours.

She wanted nothing more than to get in the shower with him, and wash off the mess they made. Feel the warm water against her skin, with his naked chest pressed against her back. She’d sleep for a few hours against his side. She could only assume he dozed off too, even if he didn’t, he never left her. She always felt safe and comforted as she was waking, that didn’t stop her from teasing. “Tired of me already,” she muttered against his lips, her fingers running through his beard, caressing his cheek.

Rip waited for her to take a breath, as a slow smirk began to appear, before capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. He knew she was joking, but the thought of being without her really did make his chest ache. He couldn’t ever get tired of her, not when he finally had her in his arms. Not when she finally settled and chose him. He really did want to be with her all the time. If he could convince her to follow him around all day, ride beside him gathering cattle, he would. But he knew she still needed her time. “Never…,” he groaned, nipping her bottom lip, grabbing the ruined thong and shoving it in his pocket, as she slightly laughed. She wouldn’t want it back later, but he wouldn’t leave it where someone could find. He’d throw it out himself, like a dozen other times before. “Thought you might want a riding lesson,” he mumbled, feeling her calf already try to tighten around his knee again, as she smirked against his lips. He knew it was gonna be a really long three days if she kept acting like that, but he’d never complain.