For anyone that ever felt they weren’t enough – or were too much. Bullshit. You’re just right. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: Hestia

  Chapter 2: Hestia

  Chapter 3: Jesse

  Chapter 4: Hestia

  Chapter 5: Hestia

  Chapter 6: Hestia

  Chapter 7: Jesse

  Chapter 8: Hestia

  Chapter 9: Hestia

  Chapter 10: Jesse

  Chapter 11: Hestia

  Chapter 12: Hestia

  Chapter 13: Hestia

  Chapter 14: Hestia

  Chapter 15: Hestia

  Chapter 16: Hestia

  Chapter 17: Jesse

  Chapter 18: Hestia

  Chapter 19: Hestia

  Chapter 20: Jesse

  Chapter 21: Hestia

  Chapter 22: Hestia

  Chapter 23: Hestia

  Chapter 24: Hestia

  Chapter 25: Jesse

  Chapter 26: Hestia

  Chapter 27: Hestia

  The Reckless Vow Playlist

  ‘Sugar’ – Sleep Token

  ‘vitamin’ – Cloudy June

  ‘weren’t for the wind’ – Ella Langley

  ‘Heart-Shaped Box’ – Nirvana

  ‘Fast Car’ – Luke Combs

  ‘Closer’ – Nine Inch Nails

  ‘Can You Feel My Heart’ – Bring Me The Horizon

  ‘Pink Skies’ – Zach Bryan

  ‘Killing In The Name’ – Rage Against The Machine

  ‘Let’s Get Lost’ – Beck, Bat For Lashes

  ‘WILDFLOWER’ – Billie Eilish

  ‘Blood Sport’ – Sleep Token

  ‘Smother’ – Daughter

  ‘Something in the Orange’ – Zach Bryan

  ‘Atlantic’ – Sleep Token

  ‘Half of forever’ – Henrik

  ‘Shake It Out’ – Florence + The Machine

  CHAPTER 1

  HESTIA

  ‘So tell me, cowboy, what’s your favourite thing to ride?’

  I pinned Jesse with my eyes as I said it, but it was Cole who almost sprayed beer over his cards, the poor fucker still adjusting to my delivery.

  Lottie smirked, shaking her head.

  ‘Hestia, girl, you’re a damn riot. How can someone who sounds just as ladylike as Lottie here come out with shit like that?’ Bailey said, slapping the table as she issued a dirty cackle.

  I shrugged, still focused on breaking Jesse’s stare. There wasn’t even an inkling of a smile, nothing. Damn. Fucking hot and a good poker face.

  ‘Oh, don’t be fooled by the accent. Lottie’s just the other side of my coin, as Cole’s been finding out.’ I glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. He was grinning now, glancing back at Lottie with the same besotted expression he’d worn ever since I got here. ‘It’s just that where she chooses dignity, I always choose violence.’

  There was a pause, everyone waiting for Jesse’s response. Lottie gave me a knowing smile, which I returned.

  ‘I know what you’re trying to do here,’ Jesse drawled, taking his time as he looked back at his cards, utterly unruffled. ‘And there’s no way you’re getting one up on me through distraction.’

  It’d only been a few days since I’d arrived at the Diamond Back ranch for a few weeks away from all the shit back in London, but I was getting impatient. The flirting had been hardcore, even by my own standards. Trouble was, this guy was a little too much like me. He was willing to push it further than others would, utterly sure of himself and very aware of just how fucking tasty he was – from biceps that strained against his shirtsleeves to the all-American, Old Hollywood chiselled face.

  He was also all too aware that he was making me wait, despite having already fucked me with his eyes about a dozen times.

  So, I decided something on the spot. When we got to it for real, which I guessed would be any time in the next hour or so, I’d make him beg for it.

  ‘Answer the question, then,’ I replied, leaning in against the tall-backed chair, elbow on the armrest. ‘Or I’ll give you a real distraction.’

  That did it. His dark, smoky grey eyes flicked onto mine then dipped down to my chest, where I knew the top buttons of my shirt were pulled taut. Shifting in his chair, he refocused on his cards.

  I had him. A surge of triumph coursed through me, and I tingled with the urge to tear his shirt open with one hand and rip his belt off with the other.

  ‘Well, let’s see then,’ he said, just as slowly as before; but this time he wasn’t quite able to stop himself from giving me a quick glance, the corner of his mouth curving up. ‘We’ve got bulls, mean sons-of-bitches but over pretty quick – kinda similar to the broncs.’ Cole snorted as he studied his own cards. ‘And then there’s the regular old horses here on the ranch, but that’s nothing. I’ve been riding ’bout as long as I’ve been walking, so . . . that leaves buckle bunnies, I guess.’

  ‘Okay, I’m out,’ Bailey announced, shaking her head with a smile in Jesse’s direction as she stood up, glancing between us. ‘I’m training with Darcy tomorrow, so I’m gonna leave y’all to it.’

  Lottie started giggling, waving to Bailey as she rounded the table and headed across the vast living room.

  I paused, focusing on my best friend for a moment. The lightness in her laugh was unlike anything I’d heard from her in years, maybe even since university. Her whole demeanour had changed in the couple of months she’d been here, as though she’d finally shaken off the weight of London, a job she hated, and Kyle, ex-boyfriend and professional prick.

  It made me so insanely happy to see it.

  I’d never known that kind of love, not even with Cal, my ex of five years. Passion, yes, friendship and a shared love of tattoos and music, definitely, but somehow, nothing deeper. We were both messed up, I knew that. Products of dysfunctional parents and traumatic childhoods. Somehow, I’d hoped – tried – for a while to connect through that. As it turned out, neither one of us had been brave enough to talk about any of it, so the soft, vulnerable and breakable bits had remained locked down tighter than ever.

  Cole pulled Lottie up onto his lap, his own expression matching her joy as he brushed a thumb over her cheek, watching her laugh. I almost had to look away – the love in their touch was so intense that it felt wrong to intrude.

  This time, when I caught Jesse’s eye again, I saw the last of his own contemplative glance, as though his thoughts mirrored mine. He quickly smiled in a way that reset my thoughts firmly back on him, on what that mouth would feel like on mine.

  ‘Anyone want some snacks?’ he asked, placing his cards face down. ‘Another beer?’

  Cole and Lottie put in their orders before Cole resumed his poker tutorial. I could tell Lottie wasn’t really listening by the way she was watching his lips, playing with one of her curls absent-mindedly.

  ‘Hestia?’ Jesse asked as he rounded the table towards me, circling his shoulder as he did so as though it was bothering him. ‘Drink? Snacks?’

  I pushed my chair back and stood, moving just far enough into his personal space to make myself clear as I flicked my hair over my shoulder.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ I offered, keeping my voice low. He raised an eyebrow, fighting another smile. ‘With the snacks, you perv.’

  He laughed then, unable to hold it back. Lottie and Cole looked up together.

  ‘C’mon then,’ he replied, sauntering over to the door and glancing back to me, eyes darting from my shirt to my black denim mini and down to my Doc Martens – which I had so far stubbornly refused to swap out for cowboy boots. ‘I think I’ve come up with a way to describe your look, you know,’ he added, turning into the hallway as I followed.

  ‘Tread carefully, cowboy,’ I warned, allowing myself an extra-long, fully gratuitous stare at his ass. His indigo blue jeans were fitted to perfection and, combined with his casual, confident walk, moved in a way that sent heat flaring right through me. ‘These boots have kicked many asses in the past ten years.’

  Entering the kitchen, with the light over the table on low and the sound of Lottie and Cole’s laughter fading as the door shut, the atmosphere changed.

  ‘Kick any as fine as mine?’ he asked, opening the fridge door, pulling out a couple of beers.

  I leant against the table, folding my arms.

  He turned as if to question my silence, eyes immediately resting on my breasts, barely contained by the buttons.

  ‘Jessica Rabbit . . .’ he began, undeterred, putting the beers down on the countertop, reaching up into a cupboard and bringing out several bags of chips, ‘. . . meets Wednesday Addams. That’s your look.’

  I narrowed my eyes. Secretly, I fucking loved that. But this was my way in, so I wasn’t about to tell him that.

  ‘A cartoonish, psychotic teenager, then?’ I said, voice low, as though he was walking a fine line.

  His face changed in an instant, awareness flaring. I almost felt bad, even though this was all part of the game. It confirmed what Lottie had said, though, that under the cocky exterior was a genuine guy with a big heart.

  ‘Whoa there.’ He put everything down, rounding the counter with his hands raised. ‘I meant it as a compliment. Damn, I mean, you’ve got the whole cherry-red hair, sexy thing going on with all the black clothes . . .’ He stopped, clocking my eyes.

  ‘No, no, do go on,’ I purred, stepping closer, watching as he realized we were in touching distance, his eyes drifting down once again. ‘Up here, handsome,’ I add
ed, waiting for him to look me in the eye again.

  ‘I . . . I just meant . . . Wait, are you . . . You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?’

  Dipping my head to hide my smile, I kicked myself, realizing how much harder I found it to do this with him. There was something about his energy, something insistent and relentlessly positive, that made it almost impossible to fuck with.

  ‘Well, if I’m a sexy red-headed psycho –’ I replied, snapping my head back up and noting his relief, followed by a flash of challenge in his eyes – ‘that makes you . . .’ I considered it for a minute, studying his features openly. To his credit he didn’t flinch, just stared right back, only reacting as I bit my lip, painted the same intense red as my hair. His grey eyes widened at that, and his jaw flexed. ‘I’ve got it: Austin Butler meets the hot, ex-military one from Yellowstone, what’s his name? Kayce?’

  This time he stepped forward, pushing his dark sandy hair back from his face. It was tanned from the intense summer sun, and his eyes were brightened by the contrast. The shadows of the dim room highlighted his sharp cheekbones, sloping to darker stubble on his cheeks and jaw.

  ‘The hot one?’ he asked, reaching out and gently unfolding my arms, taking my hands instead. The brazen look in his eyes and the pure jolt of electricity that shot straight up my arms at his touch almost gave me pause. I knew I could handle myself, handle him in this scenario, but something felt . . . different. He paused too, turning my smaller hands in his, studying the white tattoo on my left wrist. ‘What does this one mean?’

  I hesitated, suddenly checking myself. It wasn’t like it was a personal question as such, but all of my tats had stories, some deeper than others. I’d explained this one many times before, to many people, but I couldn’t put my finger on why explaining it to Jesse suddenly felt . . . exposing.

  ‘It’s an old Norse compass,’ I began, staring at my wrist, feeling his eyes on my face. ‘Helps prevent you from losing your way. I did it myself when I was first starting out, just before I opened the studio with my ex.’

  ‘And is he still in the picture?’

  I looked up, the gap between us disappearing. But, remembering my earlier promise to myself, I deflected. Not this easily.

  ‘Why don’t you give me your own tat tour and I’ll tell you,’ I countered, slowly retracting my hands from his and stepping back to lean on the table again.

  He gave another small smile, and then his fingers began undoing his shirt buttons, working slowly as he watched me.

  ‘I’ve only got two so far. But . . . maybe I’ve got room for more,’ he said, eventually reaching the last button and opening it up to reveal the tanned skin beneath. Holy fuck. Turning around, he slid the shirt off to reveal a broad, toned back, leading right down to that ass. ‘So, what do you think?’

  Momentarily stunned, I didn’t get it together until he peered at me over his shoulder. There was a bucking bull, small but nicely done, on one shoulder, and a larger water dragon at the top of his spine.

  ‘Nice,’ was all I could manage, covering my shock by getting up from the table and approaching him, as if to inspect them. But, in truth, I felt like if I didn’t touch him again in the next ten seconds I might just fucking implode.

  So I did, reaching right out and stroking my finger down the dragon, letting my long, sharpened, gloss-black nail drag slightly on his skin.

  ‘Plenty of space for more,’ I breathed, feeling him shudder under my touch. ‘Shame I didn’t bring my kit with me.’

  He turned then, fast enough that we were touching as I looked up into his eyes.

  ‘I’ve shown you mine,’ he growled, his finger grazing my chin, following the line of my neck and down, across my collarbone. ‘Only polite to show me yours.’

  I almost smiled, feeling as though he’d plucked a line from my own head. Except I couldn’t, because my entire body was consumed with the thought of fucking this man until neither of us could stand any more.

  ‘I think you’re mistaking this accent again,’ I murmured, beginning on my own buttons, teasing him by moving as slowly as I could, the first one popping apart to reveal an obscene amount of cleavage. He swallowed as he watched. ‘There’s not a single polite thing about me.’

  As though unable to stand it any more, his eyes darting to the door as if weighing up the chances of us getting caught, he moved his hands over mine, popping the next two.

  I shook my head gently, stepping back to bend over and untie my laces, kicking off my Docs and giving him an entire eyeful of my black lace bra.

  ‘Fuck,’ he breathed, shifting position as he leant back against the counter, the front of his jeans straining against the biggest fucking boner I’d ever seen.

  ‘That’s more like it,’ I smiled, continuing to torture him with achingly slow pops of my buttons, now revealing my whole rack, the tats that stretched from the flames on my neck and down to the Sleepy Hollow scene on my chest. ‘Explaining every one of these may take a while,’ I began, letting the shirt fall to the floor, stepping up to him again.

  ‘I’ve got time,’ he answered, the gravelled edge to his voice growing as his fingers reached out to trail my flames. ‘Although I’m having a hard time concentrating right now.’

  ‘Ever fucked a woman with tats like mine?’ I asked, failing to maintain my own game of making him wait and reaching out for his belt buckle, freeing it in seconds and running my hand over his zipper as I pulled it down. In the same moment I realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, his cock straining to be released.

  ‘Oh I’ve fucked plenty of women with tats,’ he murmured, circling his hand around my back and pulling me closer still, hearing the snap of the catch as he undid my bra. ‘But no one like you, honey. You are one of a fucking kind.’

  As my bra dropped and before I could move first, he made a sound between a groan and a growl, taking my face in his hands and running his tongue over my lips for a moment.

  ‘Why do I get the feeling you might just undo me, Jessica?’

  That was it.

  I pushed my lips onto his and felt his instant response, his tongue against mine. One hand was on my breast, stroking my nipple, gently pulling it between his fingers. Moaning into his mouth, I found his jeans again and ripped them down, my hand closing around his cock.

  ‘Fuck me right now,’ I ordered, taking my lips off his just long enough to look down at the size of him in my hand, my voice too strained to be truly authoritative.

  ‘You’re in an awful rush for someone that was keeping me waiting back there,’ he murmured as I reluctantly let go of him in order to undo the button on my skirt. ‘Oh, no, no, Jessica, you leave that itty bitty skirt right there,’ he whispered in that drawling accent of his, finding my mouth again, pressing me to him for a moment before his arms circled me, lifting me up onto his hips.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ I gasped, his lips now against my jaw, working up to my ear as he took a step forward and turned us against the wall, his hands moving round to grab my ass. My skirt had ridden right up in the process, baring my flimsy lace underwear beneath.

  ‘Do you remember when you arrived?’ he murmured, his tongue now moving down to my breasts, teasing me as his cock brushed my thigh. I could barely answer, tilting my head back and only aware of where I was when I felt his hand on my head, gently cushioning it against the wall. He pushed me up against it, his own breathing as heavy as mine. ‘You took my hat clean off my head and wore it for yourself?’ I nodded, almost whimpering as he lifted my skirt, his fingers tracing the thin lace, slipping inside them briefly. ‘Well now, maybe you don’t know the rules here, honey, but you wear the hat . . .’

  ‘. . . you ride the cowboy,’ I gasped as his fingers moved, pulling my underwear to the side. He kissed me roughly again, pulling a condom from his pocket and ripping it open, swearing under his breath as I helped him roll it down, applying pressure as I did so.

  He paused for a moment, his eyes wild, as though he wanted to say something else, but wasn’t sure how I’d respond.

  ‘Well, fuck me,’ I demanded, saving him from any overthinking, desperate to feel him in me. ‘Now.’

  He smiled, edging closer, somehow able to support my weight against the wall with barely any effort.

  ‘I want that mouth around my cock next time,’ he demanded right back, eyes burning, fixed on mine and waiting until I smiled, running my tongue over my bottom lip in answer. ‘And then I’m gonna kneel right down between your legs and have you ride me that way too.’