Chapter 15
She took his hand as he led her out onto the dance floor a second time. Her knees were wobbly, and it was a good thing Justin was there to steady her. Never in her life had she been kissed like that. His kiss left a burn in her mouth and a mark on her soul. He tasted like raw, rugged cowboy and peppermint. Whatever the hell flavor that was…it was Justin. She let him bring her in closer as her head fell on his shoulder. He held her there as they swayed, and without warning, she felt a brick from the poorly mortared wall around her heart fall down. Justin had proven, more than once, that she didn’t need all of her defenses around him. He was a safe space, and for the first time since she’d been home, a tear dropped from the corner of her eye.
When the song ended and everyone stepped away from each other, she stayed, arms locked around her cowboy’s neck. Another song came on, and another, and they didn’t break contact. Blythe lifted her head when she heard another man’s voice speaking to them.
“May I have the next?—”
Justin immediately cut him off. “Get the hell outta here, Robby. This beautiful woman is mine, and no, you cannot have the next dance with her.”
Honey appeared next to Robby. “Yeah…” She scoffed the word. “Didn’t you see his tongue down her throat earlier?”
Her tone was salty and dripping with obvious jealousy. Blythe had the urge to shrink or run…whatever was quicker. But Justin beat her to it.
“I’m glad you got the message, Honey. I’m officially taken, dropped off the market, wrapped around this woman’s little finger…” He looked at Robby, still standing there for only God knew what reason. “And don’t ever walk up to the woman I’m clearly holding in my arms and ask her to dance again. Unless you want your nose to meet the end of my fist. Then there won’t be a woman in town, let alone this building, who will consent to stare at your ugly mug for the three minutes it takes to get through a fucking song.”
Blythe watched the three people in front of her, eyes wide. A hand flew over her mouth and she attempted to stifle the gut-rumbling laughter threatening to escape her.
“You think this is funny?” Honey’s tone was angry. “You think you can come traipsing into this town, show up here uninvited, and treat us hometown folks like we’re nothin’?” Her eyes darted to Justin. “And you… I never thought one of our own would jump down our throats for trying to be friendly.”
That was it. She couldn’t hold it back, and the laugh came barreling out of her—a raspberry sounding against the palm of her hand. She knew she shouldn’t be laughing. Justin was clearly upset, but the look on Honey and Robby’s faces was practically comedic. Their eyes were like saucers. Honey was one too many drinks deep, and her lipstick had smeared onto her upper lip. Justin took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“You know what, Honey, we’re just going to see ourselves outta here. Robby is lookin’ for a dance partner, though. Maybe you can give him a hand?” A facetious grin spread across his face.
“Ready to roll, sugar?” He towered over her, smirking. She clutched his hand as he led her out of the dance hall. He pushed through the door and walked her straight to the passenger side of his red Chevy pickup.
Blythe sucked in a breath before blurting out, “You said you were off the market, officially taken?”
His eyes narrowed as he honed in on her. “I did. I don’t know if your feelings are the same. If I read every signal wrong in there, tell me, and I’ll shut up.” He paused and stepped closer to her. “But just so we’re clear…I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I picked your ass up off the ground. Even if you hated me for the whole thing.”
Inhaling the cool night air, she shifted her stance, a soft smile appearing on her lips.
“I didn’t hate you for any of it. I took one look at you and those ocean eyes ripped through me so fast—I just didn’t know how to handle it, so I got angry.” Her eyes dropped to stare at the cute cowgirl boots she was wearing. “Can I call myself your girlfriend?”
Justin gripped her hips and growled in his throat. “You can call yourself my girlfriend, my woman, the only female to ever proposition me on the side of the highway—whatever the hell you want, as long as you call yourself mine.”
One more beat and his mouth was all over hers, his tongue sweeping inside. The feeling that melted through her from head to toe was like a flame, pooling in her core. Feelings she had experienced before were only intensified by this man. His fingers on her hips dug into her skin through the fabric of her skirt, and her hips rocked forward of their own accord. She could feel his hard length against her through his Wranglers, and the urge to grind into him further was almost more than she could handle.
Call it instinct, lust, desire, love—no, not that. He was incredible, and she loved being with him. He was sexy and fun, and his body was stacked as hell. Everything a man should be—but this couldn’t be love. She didn’t know what that was. She thought she loved a man before…but now she wasn’t so sure she could trust that feeling anymore.
She was stunned when Justin ripped his mouth from hers abruptly. His lips were visibly wet with their kiss, his chest rising and falling as he breathed.
“Unless you want to end up on your back in the bed of this truck, we better get you home.” He winked and opened her door, motioning for her to climb inside.
He wouldn’t really lay her down in the bed of his truck, would he?
JUSTIN
Oh, he would’ve absolutely laid her down. His alpha male instinct to claim her fully would’ve taken over if he let her rock against him one more time. What little control he had would’ve snapped. Even after dropping her off and driving the rest of the way home, he still needed a cold shower and some Andy Griffith. Her hips were like soft pillows, and the little sounds she kept making while he was drinking her in were too much. Damnit, he wanted her bad. But he couldn’t have her—not yet.
They’d just established an official relationship, and by her own admission, she had never been touched by a man. She still wasn’t healed from her engagement that burnt to the ground. This could take some time.
Was it lust he felt? Hell yeah, it was—he wouldn’t be a man if it wasn’t. She was drop dead gorgeous, and fiery and sexy and fun…but it was more than that. His soul cried out for her. He wanted to be near her all the time. When he wasn’t with Blythe, he couldn’t count a second that he didn’t try to convince himself to go to her—or call her to come to him.
Cold shower it was… Or not. There were other ways to remedy this situation, and his head had a bottomless stash of images he’d collected of her since the first moment they’d officially met. He groaned and tore his shirt over his head as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He could adjust every flawless image he hoarded of her accordingly, and work them into a shower—that wouldn’t be a problem at all. So, he did just that.
After his not so cold shower, he slipped on his pajama bottoms and laid in his bed. He knew, without a doubt, that he’d sleep like a baby. He had zero shame or regret for what he’d done. The woman was perfection. The way he’d worshiped her in his mind, the things she’d said to him… The things she’d done to him as his hands roamed every invisible curve and crevice of her luscious body. Someday he would touch her and feel her for real—every fucking inch. And when he did—all bets were off.