Chapter 1: Secrets in the Mojave
The Mojave sun blazed down on the cracked earth, a relentless bastard of heat that could cook a man’s soul if he lingered too long. Joseph Walker, the Courier, trudged through the wasteland with a swagger that belied the weight of his secrets. Beside him, Rose of Sharon Cassidy—Cass to anyone with half a brain—kept pace, her boots kicking up dust, her shotgun slung over her shoulder like a lover’s arm. They’d been through hell together, from the Strip’s neon debauchery to the Legion’s blood-soaked camps. But no one, not even the nosiest NCR ranger, knew the truth: they were hitched. Married in a drunken haze by a glitchy Securitron preacher in Freeside, a secret they’d kept tighter than a vault door.
Joseph glanced at Cass, his hazel eyes catching the glint of sweat on her tanned neck. Her auburn hair was tied back, strands sticking to her skin, and damn if she didn’t look like the kind of trouble he’d die for. ‘You’re starin’, Joe,’ she snapped, her voice rough as whiskey and twice as intoxicating. ‘Keep your eyes on the horizon ‘fore I shoot ‘em out.’
He grinned, adjusting the brim of his hat. ‘Can’t help it, darlin’. You’re the best view in this shithole desert. Besides, ain’t I allowed to ogle my wife?’
Cass stopped dead, her boots grinding into the dirt. She turned, green eyes flashing like irradiated jade. ‘Don’t start with that crap again. We ain’t playin’ house out here. That ring—’ she jabbed a finger at the crude band of scrap metal on her left hand, ‘—don’t mean I’m gonna start ironin’ your duster or callin’ you honey.’
Joseph stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. ‘Never asked for that, Cass. But you can’t deny it changes things. Makes it… hotter, don’t it? Knowin’ I’m not just some drifter fuckin’ you raw in a busted motel. I’m yours. And you’re mine.’
Her lips twitched, a smirk fighting through her scowl. ‘You’re a sick bastard, Walker. Most men’d run from a ball and chain, but you’re gettin’ off on it. What’s next, you gonna start whisperin’ sweet nothings while you’re balls deep?’
‘Maybe I will,’ he shot back, his hand brushing her hip, fingers lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch. ‘Maybe I’ll kiss you slow while I’m inside you, make you feel every damn inch of me, wife.’
Cass shoved him, but there was no real force behind it. ‘Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll leave your ass for the geckos to chew on. This marriage shit—it’s weird, Joe. Used to be just us, scratchin’ an itch. Now it’s all… personal. I don’t know if I like gettin’ fucked by my husband. Feels like I’m losin’ my edge.’
He caught her wrist, pulling her close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. ‘You ain’t losin’ shit, Cass. You’re still the toughest broad in the Mojave. But I’m not gonna lie—I like this. I like kissin’ you after, holdin’ you while you’re still pantin’. Hell, I like knowin’ I can make you cum and then just… stay. No rush for round two.’
Her eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something softer in them, something dangerous. ‘You’re a sap, you know that? Fine. Let’s see if you can back up all that talk. There’s an abandoned shack up ahead. Prove to me this husband crap ain’t gonna ruin what we got.’
They reached the shack, a crumbling heap of wood and rust, and barely made it through the door before the tension snapped like a taut wire. Joseph kicked it shut, his hands already on her, pulling at her leather vest. ‘Gonna show you, Cass. Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good you’ll forget why you ever doubted this.’
She laughed, sharp and biting, shoving him against the wall. ‘Big words, cowboy. Let’s see if that cock of yours is as hard as your promises.’ Her fingers worked his belt, yanking it free with a practiced snap, while his hands slid under her shirt, palming her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples until she hissed. ‘Fuck, Joe, you don’t play fair.’
‘Never did,’ he murmured, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was all heat and hunger, tongues clashing as they stumbled toward a rickety cot in the corner. Clothes hit the floor in a frenzy, and soon she was straddling him, her pussy hovering just above his throbbing cock, already dripping with want. He gripped her hips, his voice rough. ‘Ride me, Cass. Show me you’re still the boss, even if I’m your damn husband.’
Her smirk was pure sin as she lowered herself, taking him inch by agonizing inch, both of them groaning at the tight, wet heat. ‘Fuck, you’re hard,’ she gasped, rolling her hips, her nails digging into his chest. ‘Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just ‘cause we’re hitched.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he growled, thrusting up to meet her, their rhythm building, sweat beading on their skin as the air filled with the sound of flesh slapping and ragged breaths. They were close, so damn close, and he knew this was just the start of something even wilder.
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