I knew she'd come back different. Callie always had that fire, but now she's aiming it straight at me... and I'm burning up.

From the moment she rides in bareback, boots dusted and tank top clinging, I know this summer's going to get filthy.

She teases, she dares, and she doesn't stop until I break.

Until I have her locked in the tack room, spread on a hay bale, riding like she was born for it.

No condoms. No stopping. Just sweat, leather, and skin on skin.

Callie's not a girl anymore. She's a woman with needs.

And I'm here to help.