6
SEVEN YEARS AGO
“N o cuddling. No kissing. No romance.”
There in the dingy motel room, Fallon drills a finger into my chest as she relays her rules.
“Sounds borin’,” I drawl.
That sharp eyebrow lifts. “Fine. Have fun by yourself.”
She turns, but I snag her wrist. “Where you goin’?”
“Back to the bar. To find someone who can play my way.”
“That ain’t funny.” Her smirk doesn’t amuse me. “Nothin’ ’bout you with another man is funny.”
Her shrug is casual. “A girl’s gotta blow off steam. Don’t take it personal.”
Personal . That’s exactly how I plan to fucking take it. I want this girl so damn bad my cock’s ready to punch through my zipper. The thought of her trolling the bar for a quick lay pisses me the fuck off.
“You want to blow off steam, you come find me.” I take a step forward and grip her jaw. “And me only.”
She rolls her eyes at me then unbuttons her blouse. Her long caramel hair falls over her tattooed shoulder in a thick fishtail braid. Those gorgeous hazel eyes are a thunderstorm of trouble.
Stede McGraw’s daughter! my mind screams, but all I can do is watch as she undresses. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be doing this, but the other alternative is no fucking way .
“We can fuck,” Fallon says, her voice a blade, “but we can’t be friends.”
“Why?”
Her gaze sears. “Because I hate you.”
I wait for her to tell me she’s joking, only to realize she’s serious. She hates my fucking guts.
Irritated now, I arch a brow. “Why?
She scoffs. “If you don’t know, I can’t help you.”
Finally, her buttons are undone, and she opens her shirt.
Jesus fucking Christ.
She’s fucking gorgeous. Her waist is trim and tan. Her breasts soft and round, her nipples rosy peaks.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, staring more than I should. “We shouldn’t do this.”
See? This is why I stick to buckle bunnies and one-night stands. When you’re too close to a good woman, all common sense goes out the goddamn window.
Fallon rolls her eyes, unzips her jeans, and shimmies out of them. Now she’s in skimpy bikini bottoms. “For fuck’s sake, asshole, it’s just sex.”
I grin, my gaze devouring those long, tan legs, those itty-bitty panties. “You’re trouble.”
She grins back. “I am. But you’re used to it.”
I snort. After years of training her as a surly teenager, I’m very used to it. I’m just not used to this. Fallon, now twenty-two, looking like a goddess, not raging at me for once in her life. Sexy as fuck. Naked as hell.
My response is to palm her breast and squeeze. Fuck. The full weight of her in my hands has me trembling.
A few beats pass. Then Fallon steps into me. Her body presses against mine, and everything empties from my brain.
The word no.
The promise I made to her father.
The fact that I already know one time isn’t enough.
I lean in.
“Remember the rules,” she orders as my mouth hovers inches from hers. Twin spots of pink have appeared on her cheeks.
“Fucking fine,” I growl. My mouth leaves hers, traveling down to her breast. I lick the peak, and she shivers. Then I snare her waist and move her back toward the bed.
Taking control. Like I always do.
“Wyatt,” she breathes, moving to unzip my jeans. Reaching in to fondle my cock. I groan at the sensation. At the goddamn thought.
How in the hell did a cowgirl like her ever look my way?
I yank my jeans down and pull out my cock. Already, precum drips off its head. She doesn’t want romance; we’ll get straight to point.
At the sight of my cock, Fallon’s eyes widen. Not gonna lie, it makes me feel pretty damn good. Then she bares her teeth and grins. Slips off the bed to her knees.
A guttural groan erupts from my chest as she takes me in her mouth.
I thrust a hand into all that gorgeous, caramel hair and hold tight as she sucks me off with her perfect pumps. Sweat breaks on my forehead. No chance I last longer than a minute with this girl.
This fucking girl.
Fallon McGraw is beautiful. Dangerous. Deadly.
And she’ll never know how much I goddamn want her.