Chapter 5 #2
He has a sip of beer. I see him up close, like a snapshot.
His skin is tanned, like he works in the sun, and there are faint lines around his pale blue eyes that I find so sexy.
Up close, his hair has a few grays at his temple, but he’s fit, lean, and broad.
It’s hard to tell how old he is just by looks.
“About twenty years,” he says.
“That’s quite a while. Practice makes perfect, hmm?”
“In all areas.”
“You have a filthy mind,” I say.
He shifts to face the bar. Something warm and rough touches my bare thigh. Heart thumping, I glance down to see his hand, still wrapped from his fight, brush my skin.
Oh my God, I feel that between my legs.
Electricity, like a lightning storm in high summer.
I don’t move. He slides his fingers against my inner thigh. God, he’s so close, yet so far.
“You come on pretty strong, cowboy,” I whisper.
He opens his mouth.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn.
He cocks his head, flashing the white of his teeth. “You know me already.”
His middle finger has a callus on it. It’s all I can feel, dragging up and down my inner thigh.
“What did you say your name was?” I ask.
He takes a drag on his beer. “Baby, you can call me anything you want tonight.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart is trying to beat its way out of my ribs. Never in my life has a man made me feel this way.
“No, really,” I press.
“Cowboy’s just fine.”
“How about Shotgun?” I say. “The way you’re talking, I’m half expecting you to go off early.”
He throws his head back, laughing. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a couple bullets in the chamber.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, want me to take you shooting?”
My brow arches. “If the shooting range is just your bedroom, and the gun is just your dick, I’m not so sure about that, sir.”
His finger moves up, a fraction of an inch.
There’s a few inches of space left between my wet panties and his hand.
If he makes contact, he’s going to get the ego trip of his life.
Without meaning to, I’m soaked. That’s a shock— Leland never had the power to do that with his touch, much less a dimple and a few jokes.
We’re in dangerous territory.
“So what do I need to do?” he murmurs.
I tilt my head back, letting my hair fall over my shoulders. “Isn’t the fun of it figuring that out?”
He takes his hand from my inner thigh and starts playing with the strip of fringe crisscrossed over my waist. I sneak a peek down below. He’s still flying that flag.
He wants me, a lot.
That makes me want him back, badly. Does he do this all the time? Maybe I don’t really care tonight. The only sex I’ve had was with Leland, and I fucking hated it. Right now, my entire body feels like it’s prickling with electricity. It’s intoxicating, the way he’s looking at me.
I came here to seduce him.
It’s going to be easier than I thought. The only problem is…I think he might be seducing me right back.
“Is it warm in here?” I say lightly.
He’s so close, his thigh is brushing my hip. “Scorching. The room’s pretty warm too.”
I laugh. “You always this quick?”
“Well, you did call me Shotgun.”
“Click, click, and you’re done, huh?”
He leans in. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Actually, I would, but I’m having too much fun to cut this short.
“So if you won’t tell me your name, how about where you’re from?” I say.
His lids flicker. “You tell me where you’re from.”
“No names, no places it is.” I tilt my head, giving him a sweet little smile. “You call me whatever you like, and I’ll call you cowboy.”
He taps the counter and catches the second beer the bartender slides across. His unoccupied hand goes from my fringe back to my inner thigh.
It singes like fire on my delicate skin.
“Can I get you another drink,” he asks.
“I’ve got a half bottle,” I say. “You’ve got that long to convince me to go to bed with you.”
“Baby, you’re already convinced.”
I give him a look. “Oh, really?”
His throat bobs, pale eyes fixed behind me. His finger is moving in a little circle. “I think you might be dripping down your thigh.”
My eyes widen, realizing his touch is wet. Mortification sweeps through me, but I keep my face perfectly still. Why should I be ashamed for wanting him? I’m single, and I can do what I want. I clear my throat. He glances at me, a glitter of triumph in his eyes.
“Who’s going off early now?” he says.
“If you think that’s going off, I’m about to be disappointed.”
His throat bobs again. There’s a red flush between his collarbones. When he leans in, his voice drops until it’s just a rasp.
“Let me take you home,” he says.
I keep my eyes over his shoulder. His hot breath on my ear is making this worse. His hand inches up.
“Don’t you touch me with those dirty hands,” I say.
“I won’t,” he says. “Just your panties.”
My spine tingles. Heat flushes through my hips, centering where his finger just grazed the wet fabric. The room is full, everyone occupied at the ring. Nobody sees him put his hand up my skirt, and there’s something thrilling about how boldly he does it out in the open.
His middle finger touches my clit through my panties. My thighs shiver, but I keep perfectly still.
“Think I found the trigger,” he murmurs. “Safety on or off?”
“Off,” I breathe.
He’s touching me, back and forth, and my body is responding like it never has before. My breasts tingle, nipples hard. There’s a raw ache inside me, and it makes me painfully aware of how much I want the emptiness between my thighs filled.
Up…down.
Oh God, I might come on his hand right here. That blows my mind, because I’ve never finished with anyone before. Tonight is full of surprises.
“You need to stop,” I whisper.
His forehead creases. “Why would I do that?”
The crowd roars, and the third fight of the night is done.
The bartender starts pulling winnings, and I know we’re about to be swarmed.
I don’t watch these things often, but Leland used to host cage fights in Red River Gorge back home.
He took me once, but I didn’t have a taste for the gore and the heat.
Watching Jensen fight, however…that’s a different story.
The crowd descends, jostling us out of our trance.
“Fuck,” Jensen swears, pulling his hand from between my legs.
“If you’re going to ask me so nicely, I’ll switch my no to a maybe,” I say.
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he takes the beer from my hand and sets it aside, weaving his fingers through mine and leading me from the swarming bodies.
My heart races. He pulls me outside, pushing me roughly against the side of the pole barn. His mouth is on the side of my neck. His hands are all over me, skimming over my waist, down my hips, caressing my bare thighs, callouses and dirty tape and rough palms.
Hands that feel nothing like Leland’s did.
My toes curl in my boots and my head falls to the side. More, I need more. Desire feels less shaky and tender and more like a wild animal. Fuck, I need him inside me, on me. It doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to.
My hands fall to his leather belt. I see a flash of his smile, white teeth, creases by his eyes. It’s dark enough down there, I can’t get the buckle undone. My fingers tug at it, but it’s stuck. A frustrated whimper escapes my throat. He laughs softly, catching one of my wrists.
“I think that maybe might be a yes,” he says.
I should push back, but I just nod, swallowing.
“Where’s home for you, cowboy?” I ask.
He jerks his head to the north-west. “I live just between South Platte and Sovereign Mountain. It’s night, the road's clear. I can make the drive quick.”
Breathless, I nod. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a key fob. A truck a few feet away beeps. Extracting myself from him, I stumble, tripping on the grass. His arm shoots out and wraps around my waist.
I turn to the side. He’s so close, our noses touch.
God, I want him to kiss me.
“What am I doing? You could be a serial killer,” I whisper. “I don’t even know what you do.”
He laughs again. “I own a construction company.”
“I’ll bet you bury the bodies under all the concrete you pour.”
He picks me up and dumps me into the truck. I shift across the leather seats, and he slides into the driver’s side.
“The only burying I’m doing tonight is burying my dick in that pussy,” he says, turning the key and slamming the door shut.
He glances over his shoulder as he backs up, spinning in a half circle and heading towards the road. I pull my seatbelt on, clicking it in. The sound feels…final.
I came here to do exactly this.
So why does it feel like I’m losing control?
He flips the cruise control on as he gets on the highway. Then, he braces his knees apart to lift his hips, adjusting his pants. There’s still an alarmingly big rise beneath his zipper. I glance down, and he catches my stare.
“I’m tested, by the way,” he says.
A wave of guilt comes over me, but the minute it comes, it’s gone. I’m single. I can do whatever I want.
“I am too,” I whisper.
That’s true. Kayleigh brought me to the clinic so I could get tested.
Even though I never caught him in the act, I know Leland wasn’t faithful.
There was no way, not with the men he ran with and the places they frequented.
I considered myself lucky he was clearly wearing protection with them, because he never gave me anything. At least he afforded me that.
The memory of Kayleigh brings back the memory of Landis.
I wince, turning to the window. I’m not guilty over the thought of sleeping with Jensen. I’m guilty my body is enjoying it this much. This was supposed to be all part of the bigger plan. It wasn’t supposed to light every nerve in my body on fire.
He reaches out and lays his hand on my bare thigh. Distracted, I stare down at it. He has a laborer’s hands—rough, the tattoos on his right knuckles faded out by the sun. There are scars all over them. The longer I look at them, the more I believe he owns a construction company.
“What do you want?” His voice shatters the silence, low, raspy.
I glance at his profile. “What?”