Reckless Hearts

by Jessa Wilder

Dedicated to everyone who’s ever looked at two rivals and thought: “Why not both?”

They’re opposites. Sun and moon. Fire and water. Yet somehow, always orbiting each other.

God broke the mold with Callie Harper. Nothing and no one has ever come close.

We follow because we always have. It’s in that moment I know: Callie Harper could tempt the devil with her smile.

Hope and want are two of the most dangerous things. It’s not fair for me to hope he wants me as much as I’m starting to want him.

Somehow, things are going exactly how they should and nowhere near what I want.

Colt doesn’t know, but I haven’t missed a single one of his rides since we started.

“That’s it. Breathe, baby. Come back to me. You’re doing so well. Just like that.”

How would Maverick feel if he knew I wanted to kiss Colt just as badly?

Not sure what this means. Not sure how to want something you were never supposed to have. Not sure how to survive it.

I bite back my moan with the realization that he used Colt’s cum to coat himself.

I am not turned on by that asshole. I am not turned on by that asshole. I am not turned on by that asshole.

I liked kissing Colt Lawson. I wanted him. I want him.

But the bones of us. The heart of it. It’s still there. Solid. Familiar. Home.

Because I realize, in that moment, no matter how much I love them…If I stay here, someday, I’ll lose them too. Just like I lost him. And I won’t survive it.

I love them. God, I love them so much it hurts. But I already know I won’t survive staying.

Maverick is sucking my cock. And it’s not soft. Not tentative. It’s greedy. Devastating.

Fuck. His mouth parts, tongue out, and he lets it drip. My cum. Onto her skin.

For once, I don’t brace for goodbye. I just let myself be here. Held. Wanted. Home.

I used to think bull riding was everything. That nothing else could match the way it made me feel free, wild, infinite. But now? Now I know better. I don’t want the ride. I want the landing. I want the after.

No air. No past. No future. Just this. Them. Us.

All I can think is that I’m not afraid anymore. Not of staying. Not of love. Not of being chosen last. Because they will always choose us, and I will choose them right back.

I slide out with a wet sound and watch our cum leak from her, thick and messy. I gather some on my fingers and push it right back in. “No spilling a fucking drop,” I say softly.