Free Wrangled Mess by Reese Madison

bed. I watched as he knelt and took off my socks.
    “I want to see you with your hair down.”
    He reached back and pulled the long black strands through the holder and tossed it on the nightstand. When he stood to tug my sweats off by my ankles his hair fell over his shoulders making me gasp.
    “You okay?”
    “No. Do you have any idea how absolutely gorgeous you are?”
    “As long as you think so.” He whipped the ugly cotton pants off and tossed them aside.
    I’ve always been shy in the bedroom, my body isn’t one you show off in bikini, so I tried to cross my legs.
    He gently swatted my leg back down. “Oh no you don’t.”
    “Habit.”
    “Lay back.” He dropped down to his knees after tossing a pillow on the floor. “Old football injury.”
    “What position?” I asked getting one last feel of his hair before laying back.
    “Tight end.” His hands are calming as they caress my thighs and calves.
    I giggled. Tight end. What is wrong with me??
    “Something funny Cookie?” His lips touched the inside of my knee sobering my giggles immediately.
    “I’m nervous. I think. This doesn’t happen to me.”
    “This what?”
    “This. Do I really need to say it?”
    “No. Let’s see if we can get this shyness out of the way.” He hooked my panties with his fingers and worked them down and off without lingering. His hands made their way back up and spread me for his viewing pleasure. “Nice tattoo.”
    Oh crap. I forgot about that. “Don’t laugh.”
    “Why would I laugh?” He kissed the small rebellious tattoo of a playing card, the queen of hearts.
    “It’s silly.”
    “I don’t think so. Why the queen of hearts?” He pushed my shirt up a little, then let his fingers slip underneath to gently explore. I think he senses my need to limit my vulnerability by keeping my shirt on. I’m definitely not used to a man lingering down there.
    “I like cards. Especially Black Jack.”
    “Are you any good?”
    “Just lucky with that particular card.” I grabbed the sheets as his whiskers teased my eager flesh.
    “Did you get the tattoo in hopes of getting some luck down here?”
    I arched as his tongue flicked my nub slowly. Too slowly. Oh God. I’m going to embarrass myself and come on his nose.
    “Cookie?” His breath is warm against my needy flesh.
    “Stop talking!!”
    He chuckled then set the backs of my knees on his shoulders. “Let’s see if we can find you a little luck down here.”
    Okay, I’m not sure if he’s looking for luck, leprechauns, old car parts, or the devil himself, but the first orgasm hit me hard and fast. It didn’t take much. A perfectly laid kiss unraveled me to the core.
    The rest of the unraveling came like waves lapping at the shoreline. Perfectly timed. Perfectly executed, and always reliable. He’s playing my body like an instrument. One I can’t even play.
    My life will never be the same again. This is what I want. No more going back.
    I finally begged him off because for the first time ever, I’m sore. I don’t think I was this sore after my first time, and certainly never with Jackson.
    Trace found a blanket from somewhere and brought it over to cover my delicate, well-played, lady parts before settling on his elbow beside me. “How’s your luck now beautiful?”
    I tilted my head for a better look, and to touch his cheek, ear, and hair. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now.”
    “Me too.” He wrapped his arm around my middle and ducked under my arm to put his head on my shoulder.
    I’ve never held a man like this. Whoa. What a comforting feeling. He feels perfect here. That’s how it feels. Trace is the piece of my life that’s been missing, I just didn’t know it until now. “Trace?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Will you stay in here with me tonight? Not for sex. I’m really scared. What if Jackson decides to kill me because I made him mad?”
    “I don’t think he has the guts to come after you directly. I’ll stay here. Anywhere you want. Here, the