Deep Cuts #2
Lainey must hear me because she glances over her shoulder and her eyes go wide when they lock on mine.
She screams, dropping her phone. Then her body lurches to the left and she screams again. Her arms and legs flail as she falls and falls. And falls.
But she doesn’t hit the ground because I lunge forward, my saddlebag falling to the floor. I loop one arm around her waist. I grab her arm with my free hand. Then I use the bulk of my body to push her back upright in the saddle, her back to my front.
Searing awareness spreads through me at the sudden rush of contact. My other hand is splayed over her belly, and I can feel how hard she’s breathing.
She’s panicking. We both are.
My breath moves the hair tucked behind her ear. “I got you.”
“Jesus Christ, Colton.” She reaches up to pluck the earbud out of her ear, but I notice she doesn’t pull away from me. “What the hell are you—”
“Was out for a ride. Better question, what the hell are you doing out here?”
“Nash let me take some videos of him explaining how to ride a horse. I figured I’d, um”—she blushes—“try out his tips.”
She smells so fucking good. Her skin is warm. I can see the frantic thump of her pulse in the hollow beneath her ear.
“You shouldn’t be here alone.” It’s the only thing my short-circuiting brain can think to say.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“I don’t sneak.”
“Yes, you do. It’s almost like you wanted me to fall off this thing.”
“Would you leave if that happened? I’d never wish an injury on anyone, but…”
“Even in a cast, I’d stay. Just to spite you.”
I’m fighting a grin. “Sorry, the only butt I’m wiping is my son’s.”
Lainey grabs my hand and tries to pry it off her body. “You’re such an asshole. Let me go.”
“Only if you stay outta my way. We talked about this, remember?”
She cuts me a withering glare over her shoulder. “You were the one creeping on me, Colton. I’m innocent in all this.”
Fuck, she’s quick.
She’s calling me out. And now her eyes flick to my mouth and flash with something like…
Like hunger.
A surge of heat hits me squarely between my legs. I hate not being in control of my body. My thoughts.
I hate her.
“I was just doing my job,” I bite out. “Which requires me to—”
“Whatever.” She’s clawing at my hand now. “Let me go, or I’ll scream. I can get off by myself—”
“Of course you can. I saw evidence of that the other day.”
“Fuck you.”
“Thanks but no thanks. Now turn around and put your hands on my shoulders.”
Her eyes glitter. The anger I see there—damn it, I’m curious to know what it’s about. Doesn’t make sense for a perfectly put-together princess like Lainey Brown to be pissed at the world.
“No,” she spits out.
“You’d best listen, Dallas. I got handcuffs on me.”
That makes her laugh. “Stop. You don’t have—”
“Wanna bet?”
“So you’re the sheriff now too? In addition to being the foreman and an asshole?” Finally breaking eye contact, she shakes her head. “Where do you find the time?”
“Don’t need much sleep. I will throw you over my shoulder if you don’t start listening, Dallas.”
“Will you cuff me before or after that happens?”
Now I’m the one laughing. “Before, probably. But knowing you…hell, you’d still find a way to hurt me, wouldn’t you?”
“Getting punched would be your kink.”
“What an inappropriate thing to say while on the job.”
“You know what’s inappropriate? The fact that you won’t take your hands off me—”
“Because I’m tryin’ to do my job here. Let me.” I use my foreman voice. The one that brooks no argument, except from my son. But that’s neither here nor there. “Put your hands on my shoulders so I can get you down and then I can get the fuck out of here.”
“Fine. But only because I want you to leave.”
“You want me to leave, why do you keep talking?”
“Because.” She pauses, and I smile at the idea that I caught her out. “Maybe I like the idea of cuffing you. Maybe to a post or something. Teach you some humility.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Watch me.”
She turns and plants her hands on my shoulders, and heaviness settles between my legs when she leans her weight into me so I can shape her waist with my hands and slide her off the saddle.
Then we’re standing face-to-face. Close enough that her tits brush my chest when she breathes in.
Is the space between us tightening? Pulling us closer? Or am I doing that?
Is she?
A hot drip of awareness works its way through my core. I’m suddenly aware of the fronts of my thighs, how they want to be pressed against hers.
Her eyes flick to my mouth again. My dick leaps.
The tension between us is unbearable. It has been a day. And to top it off like this? I feel like I’m about to snap. Do something very, very stupid.
I wait for her to pull away. Slap me even.
Instead, she stays. And looks. And burns with what I thought was anger. Maybe it is anger, but it’s also that hunger I glimpsed in her too.
Hunger I feel in every corner of my being. I’m struck by the ridiculous thought that here in this barn, we’ve become animals too. Animals with appetites that refuse to be ignored.
“You fucking liar.”
I blink. “What?”
“The handcuffs.” She gives me a shove. “If you actually had them, you’d be using them on me right now. I know you’re a dick, but I didn’t know you were a coward too.”
Anger flares hot and pure through my center.
Hate sex. Is that what is about to happen? My body leaps at the prospect, even as a funny feeling takes root in my gut. Lainey’s kinda putting herself out there right now, isn’t she? If anyone’s not a coward, it’s her.
And that really, really pisses me off. And turns me on. So fucking much.
“Aw, Dallas.” My chest rumbles with a low, sinister chuckle. “You should know better than to talk trash like that. I ain’t no liar. And I’m certainly no chickenshit.”
“Prove it.”
The defiant tilt of her chin. The fire in her eyes. The honesty of all that.
I’m done.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m leaning down to pull the handcuffs out of my saddlebag. I’m yanking her arms behind her back. I’m curling my hand around her wrists and using the bulk of my body to keep her in place. Her tits are thrust out, and I don’t miss that her nipples are hard.
My dick goes full salute in the space of half a heartbeat.
Her breath catches when I snap the cuffs onto her wrists.
Leaning in, I run my nose up the length of her delicate neck. “You want me to cuff you, you just gotta ask, Dallas.” I nip at her neck. “Now get on your fucking knees.”