Natalie Acres by Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6] Page A

explode, he pumped his hips away from the bed, stood up, pretended to wrap Trixie’s tan legs around his waist, and lay atop the mattress, dragging his wet thumb across the head of his cock and plowing against the bed.
    “Yeah, baby mama. I’m fucking you like a woman wants a man to fuck her.” He pounded against the bed, pretending Trixie lay there before him.
    He buried himself into the hot depths of her sweet pussy and finally just let himself go. He came all over the place, the first squirt of his release as painful as it was pleasurable as he raked his cock over the mattress threads and tried to feel the clench of her vagina, certain now she was there with him, urging him on, practically cheering for him.
    When he was done, depleted, and finished, he rolled to his back and screamed into the darkness. “I will have you, Trixie Cartwell! I will bury my cock inside you and ride you all night long! Do you hear me? Are you out there listening to me, little whore? I will own you! I will claim you! You will forever be mine!”
    He closed his eyes and dragged his fingernails over his nipples. A surge of pain swept over him and he cried out once again. This time, he overlapped his arms and hugged himself as tightly as he could manage. Then, he curled up in a fetal position.
    “Shh, baby,” he whispered, rocking himself back and forth. “Shh, shh, Trixie. I’ll keep you nice and warm. Once I hold you like this, I will die before I ever let you go.”

Chapter Eight
     
    “I can’t believe we’re here.” Trixie entered the office Mitch had once occupied. “I feel like that ditzy nineteen-year-old camp counselor.”
    “I can promise you—there are notable differences between now and then,” Brock said.
    “Is that a fat joke?” Trixie asked, placing her hands on her hips.
    “Why hell no,” Brock grumbled. “Where did you come up with that idea?”
    “Don’t even try to figure that one out,” Rory said.
    Brock laughed. “I’ll take your advice.”
    Trixie slipped into yesteryear and revisited memories. “It’s so strange to find this place just the way we left it.”
    “Cow Camp isn’t the same, Trixie,” Brock said, acting overly concerned. “It will never be the same again.”
    She stopped. “I know, Brock. I didn’t grow up here like you and Rory, but Cow Camp still means a lot to me. I spent one incredible life-changing summer here.”
    “One fateful summer,” Rory said, a gleam in his eye. Brock shot him a scornful look, and Rory quickly turned away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
    “How did you mean it?” Trixie asked, determined to lighten the mood since Brock seemed hell-bent on the opposite.
    Rory lifted his chin. “I was referring to the good times.” He pointed at the long leather couch. “Let’s all take a walk down Memory Lane. Shall we?”
    “I’d rather not,” Brock grumbled.
    “Oh but I want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around Trixie’s waist. “I’ll never forget the look on Brock’s face the day you walked in here and slapped that poncho against the sofa. You had mascara caked under your eyes. Your crimped hair was dripping like you’d just stepped out of the shower, and you were dressed in that damned white T-shirt.”
    “Ah yeah,” Brock said, grinning then. “We all referred to that hot little number as ‘the shirt’ from then on.”
    Trixie snorted. “The only thing I remember is being mad as all hell.”
    “That was a front,” Brock assured her.
    “No it wasn’t,” she said. “I can’t remember why I was so pissed, but the anger was real.” She paused as another flashback entered her mind then. Suddenly, she burst into laughter, tears freefalling from her eyes.
    “What is it?” Brock seemingly admired her as if he could eat her up like pancakes, syrup, and butter.
    She waved her hand in front of her face. “On the day with the poncho. Don’t you remember? Mitch flew around the desk with a large towel. He draped it over me and started