This erotic story excerpt by Katie Golding from Fearless was originally published by Sourcebooks Casablanca and is a finalist in the Good Sex Awards Sexiest Consent Category.


Billy King—Present Day

I’m more skittish than I was the first time I did this, but it still isn’t stopping me. I lift up Taryn’s window all the way, slipping off my hat so I’ll fit and putting my first leg through. At least now I know not to hit the board that creaks as I come all the way in.

Silently, I straighten and close the window in one easy move my body still remembers too well, submerging myself fully into the land of peaches and lavender. I turn to find her smiling at me from her bed, sitting with one leg tucked under her while her other bare foot flirts with the floor.

She looks…good. Really good. Bright and sunny and warm, and my limbs are on fire from the feeling coming back after being in the cold for too damn long. I bite my lip, tentatively reaching out and hooking the corner of my hat onto her desk chair, letting it fall the rest of the way out of my hand and swing into place, like I used to do.

Taryn smiles, and I blow out a breath, my eyes floating over her walls, her desk, her chest of drawers and nightstand, all covered with pictures and racing medals, trophies and knickknacks, and a couple of tiaras from her beauty pageant days. Something new sparkles at me from one of her shelves, and I’ll be damned.

My World Champion medal is all shiny and clean, no trace of the training pen she dug it out of, and hooked onto a pushpin so it dangles proudly off the corner.

Not a single other thing is out of place. Maybe the world’s getting a little bit smaller again. I hope.

“So did you want to talk about your practice?” she says.

“Not really.”

She blushes like this is funny, though I’m not sure why.

I pat down my hair, wishing I’d remembered to grab the breath mints from my truck before I left. “It’s just, there isn’t much else to say.”

She nods a little. “Okay. Well, is there…anything else you wanna talk about? Maybe something I can do? To help?”

I really hope she means that.

“Yeah,” I tell her, more than a little nervous about coming clean over why I dragged my horse out of his stall in the middle of the night and rode him to her house in thirty-degree weather when I’m specifically not supposed to be doing this for a whole bunch of reasons that only half include her. But she’s right, and I’m never gonna get what I want if I don’t start asking for it. “I, um, I was wondering if…if you’d let me kiss you good night. It’d make me feel a whole lot better.”

Taryn crosses her arms, smiling at me from her bed. Then she laughs, the sound high and clear like tinkle bells. But something about it doesn’t sound like a no. “I can’t believe I let you steal my heart.”

It’s not really an answer, but it may be my favorite thing she’s ever said to me.

I do my best to hold down my grin, but there’s really not a damn thing I can do about it. “No, ma’am. Just borrowed it.”

Taryn sits with that for a second. Then she gets up from her bed, slowly walking toward me with every inch of those legs of hers, pouring out of pink pajama shorts with little crowned goats all over them.

When she stops in front of me, I can’t think outside the blue of her eyes and the way she always smells like summer, even in the snow. “Okay.”

I flinch, my nose and eyebrows twitching like my face wants to smile, but I don’t dare risk it. “Okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” She plants her hands backward on her waist and tilts her chin up, that perfectly arched eyebrow challenging me to even think about disappointing her. “Kiss me, Billy. Before I change my mind.”

My heart starts dancing in my chest, heavy as mud and moto fast, and Christ, please don’t let me die of a heart attack right now, because it feels like I’m gonna.

I swallow, my mouth dry. Can’t believe I forgot to grab my breath mints from my truck.

Hands on her waist or her hips?

Maybe I shouldn’t touch her.

Fuck, I don’t know what to do.

Taryn snorts a laugh, and I narrow my eyes at her, embarrassment burning away all my indecision. “Oh, ha ha. You ready or what?” For some reason, this just makes her laugh harder, her eyes pinched shut with the force of it. Awesome. “Enough, okay? Hey, I can do this.”

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” She does her best to make her face serious, but it just looks like she’s chewing on something. She waves at herself. “I’m ready.”

I watch her, just waiting, and yep, she sputters another snort into her hands and bends over sideways laughing again a second later.

I turn for the window. “I’m going,” I tell her.

“Hey, no! Wait, hold on.” She grabs my hand and turns me back, not laughing anymore but still smiling so bright, we probably don’t need the light on. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m nervous, too.”

That melts me faster than the ice my old boots are puddling on her wood floor. “I don’t want you to be nervous.” I squeeze her hand. “Not with me.”

She shakes her head, laying her palm on my chest and speaking low but clear, like she wants to make sure I hear every word. “Billy, I have never been nervous to be alone with you. I’m nervous because it’s been a long time, and it’s us, and I’ve missed you.” Her eyes drop to my lips, the corners of hers turning up before she looks up at me, no fear in any part of her I can see. And I can see a lot of Taryn, way down deep, where it matters. “Close your eyes.”

A breath puffs from my chest, and I can’t believe I’m gonna do this.

I close my eyes. My heart instantly starts beating so loud, I wonder if she can hear it. I focus on her palm, warm on my chest. Her other hand leaves mine, and I put my hands on my belt, feeling like a fool. Something touches my jaw, and then I feel her: the faintest brush of her lips against mine. Softer than our first kiss and infinitely more tender, and everything in me settles down and warms up. I know what to do now.

I go for the waist, just a tiny bit of pressure in my fingertips as they settle around the curves of her sides, bringing her closer. Her belly bumps mine, and my brilliant hands leave her waist to cup her cheeks, tilting her up to me. Taryn gives me all the time in the world as I sip from her lips all that I need in this life, finding my true north in the curve of her mouth and my purpose in the small crease between her lips, because every breath she takes is it. My reason.

I’m not ready to let go, but I still pull back from her slowly, savoring every last taste until we’re apart but just barely.

Damn, that felt good.

Her eyes are hazy when they lift to mine, swimming with moans I’m desperate to hear and I know she’s impatient to make.

I drop my hands from her face and turn away, walking fast toward the window. “Well, good night.”

She sputters out a squeak behind me. “Seriously?”

“Nope! I’m just kidding.” I whip around and jog back to her, Taryn already laughing as I swoop down to hug my arms around her waist and kiss her again, her hands soft on my shoulders until they slide up to my jaw, pulling me closer. And that little move right there is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.

I kiss her with all I’ve got now, relishing the taste of her tongue and the heat of her mouth, letting myself get a little lost in it because she feels so damn good, and she was right: it has been way too goddamn long.

Taryn ain’t impressed. She rips my jacket off my shoulders and shucks it to the floor, then attacks my shirt and gets rid of that offensive article of clothing, too. It stings me with guilt all over again—that she’s this wound up because I haven’t had her in my care in months, and it’s a dangerous way for her to be.

I may wake up hungry in the morning, just starving to damn death and feeling like I’m gonna cave in, but Taryn wakes up horny. And while I can keep a pretty tight lid on my carnal needs after years of staying in one-room motels with my brother and father and Frank, she cannot. It’s part of the beautiful confusing cataclysm that comes with loving her, though. Because it hurts her to be called pretty, but she sure wants me to fuck her like she is, rough as I will allow, please and thank you, and saddle up, cowboy, ’cause I want to ride again.

I kiss her a little dirtier now that I’m half-undressed and she’s got us barreling down the onramp, fisting my hand in her hair and tugging up so she gasps into my mouth. I pause to smile down at her, Taryn smiling back, and she knows I’m with her in all the ways that matter. I pull my hand from her hair and push at her hips, sending her stumbling back a step into her chest of drawers.

Taryn giggles and sways like she’s tipsy, soft and compliant when I storm forward and grab her shoulders, kissing her wild and breathless until she’s holding onto her dresser but sinking in her knees a little. Makes me hard as a fucking rock that she responds to me like that.

I rip my mouth from hers and practically toss her onto the chest of drawers, not being easy or slow or worrying about the strength in my hands as I grip her soft calves and toss them up around my waist. Taryn just laughs at me pretending to scowl at her, giggling harder through her moans when I tug her forward so my belt buckle lands flat between her legs. Her head lolls on her neck as I growl into her ear, “Something funny?”

More giggles lifting my soul somewhere above the clouds, more moans when I sneak my hand between her legs, petting her over her shorts and panties and listening to her whimper into my ear when she falls forward onto me, trusting me to keep her from falling any farther. And I will.

She hits her first one too fast, high and tight because she’s too turned on, and fuck, I knew better than that. I flip my wrist and press the flat part of my fingers against her, holding them firm but absolutely still as I turn my head to kiss her, soft lips and a lot of tongue, slow and deep and doing everything I can to settle her down before she tops out early, still unsatisfied. It isn’t easy, and she’s still trembling, but she starts to rock against my hand again after a minute, and we’re go for round two.

I’m always better on my second attempt. Always.

I lock my arm around her waist and lift her up enough so I can get her shorts and panties off, setting her down carefully and slipping them from her legs. Taryn welcomes me back with hungry arms and spread-apart thighs, our lips finding each other’s with a simplicity that speaks of all the times we’ve done this, though it’s never been as important as now.

I slip my hand up her thigh, creamy and silky as I guide her leg higher around my waist, but it’s not as silky as when I brush my fingers against her. Still flat and still firm but smooth and unhurried, and God, she’s so fucking wet and soft that I’m never going to be able to leave this damn bedroom again.

My dick swells uncomfortably thicker in my jeans, jealous and impatient and aching for a taste of her. But it damn well knows by now that it never goes first. I press a kiss to Taryn’s cheek, looping her arms around my neck and taking my time following her hushed whimpers to what feels best for her, satisfying all the ways I need to touch her.

I make it last as long as I can, revving her up and backing her down so I can keep going as long as I need. It’s still not enough, but when it’s time, I drink the moans of her orgasm into my mouth, swallowing all the secrets of all the things we’ve done in the hours we weren’t supposed to be doing them. But I can’t stand to live in a world where I’m not allowed to give her what she needs, and she needs me.

I let her rest for a minute, my wrist, too, Taryn dopey and mumbling like she’s drunk on my shoulder. But when I press my thumb to her again, she moans instead of jumps, and she’s still just getting started. Damn two-month backlog is going to take me all night to work out of her, and I can’t wait. Just hope we’ve got enough condoms in the stash, because that would be bad.

I straighten her up and take her beautiful face in my hands, then smack a kiss to her lips before I pull her forward and flip her over my shoulder. Taryn cracks up laughing as I carry her to the bed, and I slap her ass for good measure, which only makes her laugh harder.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now.” I carefully flip her onto the mattress, letting her fall the last foot so it feels a lot farther than it was.

She curls into herself with giggles, her shirt bunching up to reveal the bottom curve of her breasts—no bra—and the lower half of her body gorgeously naked, all for me. If there’s a better sight in this world, I don’t know what it is.

I point at her, my face serious. “Stay.”

She nods, fake saluting me through her laughter. “Yes, sir.”

I get the rest of the way naked and grab a condom from the…cool, half-full box in her nightstand so I won’t have to stop again afterward. I haven’t gone down on her since too long before we broke up, and I’m fucking dying with the need to taste her. Better, I know she needs it just as much as I want it.

I flick the condom onto the comforter, then grasp her ankles and yank her toward the edge of the bed.

“Door,” she says, and my heart stops.

“You didn’t lock it while I was putting Gidget in with Aston?”

She grins wickedly, devilish little thing that she is. “Nope.”

I dash for the door and lock it as Taryn bursts out laughing. Then I run back to her, leaping onto the bed and lightly covering her mouth with my hand, trying not to smile as I snarl at her. “You are gonna get us in so much trouble.”

She easily pushes my hand away, beaming up at me as her leg smooths up my side and wraps around my waist, pulling me closer. “Can’t wait.”

Yeah, me either.


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Katie Golding is a racing fan with a romance writing problem.

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