Chapter 4
POV: Abby?
My heart battered in my chest with each step that I took.
Go slow, I told myself, trying to regain my confidence, even though it was waning right now.
Cole. I said his name slowly inside my head, as if his name caused all the emotions inside me to thrash wildly.
And in truth, it did.
He was…well, he was just as hot as he was earlier. The way he commanded my attention, without a single word, but only his heavy gaze. That made something inside me burn.
Pull it together, Abby, you’re not some teenage girl, wondering what sex feels like. You are a woman, an adult woman, doing your job, and you need to act like it.
But the closer I approached, the hotter I felt.
I pushed it deep inside me and forced a confident, poised smile to the group of men, mainly directed towards him—because in reality, he was the only thing that I could see.
“Cole,” I greeted, glancing around the table at the men who raised their eyebrows and looked as if there was some big secret.
Cole’s face didn’t change from their mumbles or glances among each other.
“Abby,” he replied.
And my name was like a poem off of his tongue. Smooth. Effortless. Perfect.
I fought back emotions as I waited for their orders.
“A bourbon neat,” he gestured around the table and the rest of them nodded in agreement.
“6 bourbons neat then,” I replied, nodding, glancing down at the notepad I scribbled on, just to bring my gaze away from his.
But like a fool, I looked up at him.
The need was unbearable and suddenly I was staring into his eyes and wondering what he was thinking.
Was he thinking the same thing I was?
I turned on my heels, taking a deep breath as I did and inhaling a mixture of earth and musk.
Then he spoke, “Abby.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, spinning around to face him.
His face was the same as always. Not a smirk, not even a smile, just those eyes that could see right through me.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
The words almost took the breath right out of me.
That was….what? What was that?
As I walked away, I was confused, utterly confused by the entire encounter.
Why did he stop me just to say thank you?
Then I realized the reason. It was a control thing.
I turned at the sound of his voice and it made me stop in place. It was dominance. Complete control. And he had it. And now he knew it.
So, I did what any sane, 22 year old girl would do, I reveled in it—I liked his dominance, but I also liked showing him that I could play the same game he did, if left to my own devices.
I walked as slowly as possible, making sure to shake my ass as much as I could, and when I made it behind the bar and looked back at his table, he was staring at me with a tight jaw. But it wasn’t his jaw that gave it away, it was his eyes—his normally cold eyes were filled with fire.
He knew what I was doing, and he hated it.
And I knew if he had it his way, he would’ve probably smacked my ass and made me behave.
Is it so wrong to be attracted to someone who you’ve only spoken a few words to—-who makes you feel ungodly hot without even touching you—who makes you wonder what it’s like to be fucked by him—who’s 14 years older than you?
I’m sure some women would argue it was, that it was totally wrong.
But me, I couldn’t help this was the first time things felt….right.
I brought back the 6 bourbons and slowly placed them down in front of each cowboy, waiting to ignite something inside Cole, something—anything to set something loose inside him.
One of them gave me a wide smile, but it slowly faded as Cole shot him a look.
There’s something.
Keep going, Abby, I encouraged myself.
But pissing off a cowboy, especially one like Cole, had its consequences and as I went to set his drink down in front of him…I felt it.
Cold then sudden warmth, as his hand swept against mine as I set down the glass in front of him.
The sensation was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
A tangle of wild emotions.
I gasped for air, tugging my hand quickly away from his.
The other men were busy laughing amongst themselves and too busy to notice the silent exchange between the two of us.
“Would it kill you to smile for once?” I teased.
His jaw ticked. “Not my thing.”
“Not your thing?” I joked. “What does that even mean? Are you perpetually just angry all the time? Is that like a cowboy thing?”
He just stared at me, studying my face, making my skin crawl, wishing his touch was on mine again.
“Well, it seems like jokes aren’t your thing either.”
“That dress of yours,” he began, pausing, glancing at the upper half of my thighs. “It’s a bit short.”
I scoffed, almost in disbelief. “So glad that you noticed.”
“Every man in here has.”
He was jealous.
“I can’t believe you think…” I laughed again, shocked.
He raised his eyebrows.
“That you think you can say that to me.”
“I just did, Abby.”
I leaned in, so close that I could whisper into his ear, “jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Cole.”
Before I could turn on my heels, he grabbed my waist, holding me in place. “And neither is provoking me into teaching you how to behave.”
My mouth fell open, but I forced it shut and forced my gaze away from his.
I stomped off even though my legs were like jello.
Because the truth was that I wanted to provoke him.
I wanted to see him undone. I wanted him to teach me how to behave.
And I could only imagine how good it would feel.