This is for FallingsnowWinter, who made some gorgeous banners for this one-shot and rec'ed it to a great many people. It's also for the lovely FicSisters, who featured it not long ago. This is the lemon that one of my contest betas insisted I cut before I entered it. She didn't like it. She said it was clinical. (She was right.) I was cleaning out my writing folders just now and found it. I made the changes she suggested and cleaned it up just a bit and thought, what the hell. Keep in mind this was basically my first lemon-writing attempt ever, so it's not anything fantastic. But this is what was originally in the dream scene before I cut it. Now, I guess we could say it's B&E after the rodeo, reconnecting? Anyway, thank you for loving on this story, ladies. I appreciate the support so much!

"Won't be needing this," and with that his hat is placed carefully an arm's length away.

When he returns, his fingers find the outline of my breasts beneath my button down. I need this. I'm nodding as soon as his fingers find the top button and pull. He's quick but gentle. When I feel the roughness of his rope-hardened hands against my flesh, my mouth opens in a groan that he swallows with his lips.

"I want—" I manage.

"What do you want, Bella?" His lips are trailing down my throat, licking the hollow between my breasts. His stubble tickles. His mouth finds my nipple and the sensation—warmth and heat and gentle tugs—makes me forget what I was going to say.

"Tell me," he says. "I'll give ya anything, darlin."

Jesus H… I just, I can't. It's all so good my brain could be dribbling out my ears—and it might be—and I wouldn't notice.

Unable to form words, I place tentative fingers across his broad chest and run my hand down to his belt buckle, unfastening the shimmering silver etched oval as best I can from my rather prone position below him.

He takes the hint. "Oh God, Bella, yes." One of his hands covers mine, helping me to open and pull at his waist, while the other makes quick work of his pearl buttons. He's hunched over me, naked to the waist, his pants gaping, when he looks at me more closely.

"You want me?" He looks so lost that I can barely contain a giggle. How can he ask? If I didn't, would we be here right now, half naked?

"So much."

"I want you, darlin. All the time. For so long. You don't even know." He reaches for my jeans, watching me for acceptance and I'm nodding again. We help each other, wriggling and pulling, shedding our jeans and boots and socks. He's wearing tighty whiteys and I can't even. It's so perfect and so boyish and dorky that I love it. I guess jeans that tight don't really leave room for boxers.

Perhaps less amusing is the speed with which he's now moving. Moments ago he was teasing me with a lasso and now he's moving in for the kill. He hasn't stopped touching me the entire time, refusing to break our connection even to get out of his clothes. Every stroke, every caress, spins me closer to the edge of an abyss I never knew existed until right now.

Unable to help myself, I push his hands away from their grip on my hips and reach up to cup him in my hands. His head rolls back. His Adam's Apple, an inviting sight that I feel the urge to lick, momentarily distracts me. I do, and while I'm humming against his throat, he pushes his tight white underwear down, palms himself, and moves my hand to wrap around him. I squeeze and stroke, pleased at how lost in me he now seems.

"Please." This time it's him begging me, and I can't hold back. I pump him a few more times and then lean forward, my long hair sweeping against his knees as I pull him into my mouth.

He won't fit, not completely of course, but he tastes warm and salty. I lick the wide, smooth head of him and follow him as he drifts backward onto his elbows.

"So good." His voice carries an edge of pain to it, barbed wire against silk. "Oh, darlin."

His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head. He's not exactly holding me in place, but he's not letting me go, either. It's like he's afraid I'll stop.

I don't want to. I just want this, him, in all the ways I can have him. I palm the hot weight of his balls and squeeze, widening my lips as he begins to thrust into my mouth. His fingers find my breasts and squeeze me back, tweaking my nipples and kneading in time with his thrusts.

His hips begin to move rhythmically as he bucks up into my throat. I curl my fingers around one slim hip, placing my thumb into the V that slides down into his groin, and pull him deep into my mouth.

"Bel-lah." He's gasping. "Bella, you're gone have to stop, baby. I'm close."

I shake my head, swallow and lick, pulling him to me by his hip.

"Bella, really—" His rhythm is jerky now. His hips buck and curl toward me. "Baby, I'm gone to, I'm gonna –"

I relax my throat and nod, looking up into his eyes. I want this. I want everything.

"Fuck." He twists and shivers and curses again. Maybe he's letting go, but it feels like he's hanging on. He's holding on to us.