Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
CASSIA
"Why cowboys?" Cord asks, holding out a bite of peach pie to me.
I lean forward, wrapping my tongue around the fork to pull the flaky pastry into my mouth.
The peaches practically melt on my tongue.
I moan, and his eyes narrow to slits, the lines around the corners becoming more pronounced.
Which honestly only makes me want to tease him more.
He's hot when he's scowling. I find myself eager to push his buttons just to make him keep looking at me like that.
I honestly can't remember the last time I had this much fun around a man.
Actually, I can remember. I've never had this much fun with a man.
With Cord, I don't feel anxious or awkward.
He doesn't look at me like I'm insane when random things tumble out of my mouth.
He just rolls with it, like it's perfectly normal for us to discuss bull testicles over dinner.
He wouldn't let me feed myself. I finished cooking while he showered.
When he came back downstairs, he pulled me onto his lap, and we ate from the same plate.
It was…strangely erotic to have him feeding me.
I liked it more than I probably should. I know he did too.
His gray eyes blazed with heat throughout the entire meal.
His cock has been hard all night too. It's nestled between my cheeks, slowly driving me insane.
"Honestly? I think I started reading cowboy romance because my mom grew up on a ranch in Texas," I say.
"She hated it. I guess I wanted to know what was so bad about it, or maybe I started reading it to spite her.
I'm not sure. I was twelve. But then I fell in love with the genre, so when I started writing, it felt natural to start there. "
"You started writing young." He cuts off another bite of pie.
"Mmhmm. I was nineteen when I finished my first book. I didn't publish until two years later though." I laugh quietly. "God, it was terrible!"
"Doubtful," he mutters, holding out the fork toward me.
"Trust me," I say, shaking my head. If I eat anything else, I'm going to explode. "It was terrible. Writing is one of those things you learn as you go. The more you do it, the more you learn and grow. I won't even show anyone the drafts hidden under my bed. They are so bad."
"You have drafts hidden under your bed?"
His slow, adoring grin heats me up a thousand degrees as he pops the fork into his mouth, his lips closing around the tines.
Watching him eat reminds me of watching him eat me, which heats me up another thousand degrees.
I shift on his lap, subtly trying to press my thighs together to ease the ache between them.
"What else you got hidden under there, pretty baby?" he asks, sliding his free hand up my hip.
"Not telling," I whisper.
Cord Decker does not like being told no. His brows pull down, his gray eyes settling on mine again as if he intends to pull the answer he wants right out of my soul. "Is that your final answer?"
I nod, not in the least intimidated by this man.
He may look rough and mean, but I've seen his heart now.
I know what makes this giant bully tick.
For some inexplicable reason, he thinks I hung the moon, and I'm not about to tell him different.
I think I could bring him to his knees if I wanted to do it.
I don't. I want him on top of me, inside of me, all over me.
Our fork clatters against the plate where he drops it, not breaking my gaze. The chair scrapes back from the table, groaning beneath our combined weight. The ancient wood is sturdy though, built to hold a man like him. His arms surround me, strong and sure.
The flames of hell sear his expression.
"Cord!" I shout as he stands up in one fluid move, tossing me over his shoulder. My hair falls forward, blinding me. I bat it out of my face.
"Time for another lesson, pretty baby," he growls, yanking my sweats down to expose my ass. His rough palm glides over the swell of it, making me moan. "And I'm going to stare at this pretty little thing on the way to teach it to you."
I can't even yell at him for carrying me off like a caveman. If he weren't holding me up right now, I'd be a puddle in the floor. I've never wanted anything the way I want whatever he's going to do to me next.
"Fuck, I can't wait to sink my teeth into this," he mutters, swatting my ass. He strides with purpose into the living room, not even breathing hard. I guess when you spend all day every day working a ranch, carrying someone my size is small fries.
I bounce on his shoulder, my arms dangling to his knees.
If his view is anything like mine, I don't blame him for wanting to bite it.
His ass is right in my face, his jeans hugging his firm cheeks just right.
I should probably be pissed that he's carrying me around like a sack of potatoes, but it's honestly kind of hot. Not that I'm telling him that.
"Lesson four," he says as he carries me into the bedroom.
"I thought we already had lesson four."
"You didn't learn it well enough the first time, princess." He tosses me onto his bed.
I land on my back, sinking into the mattress and thick comforter. Oh, he likes his luxury. His bed is amazing. "You're a big bully, Cord Decker," I say, glaring at him. Just so he knows he can't do whatever he wants whenever he wants. I talk back.
"And we both know you love every minute of it, Cassia Murphy," he says, smirking as he pulls his t-shirt off over his head. He tosses it toward the bathroom door, his eyes soft as they run over me. Mine are locked on him, trying to take in the sight of him again.
Lord, he's impressive. I thought so earlier, but he's even more impressive standing at the foot of his bed with intent in his eyes.
Tribal tattoos run up and down the right side of his body.
A landscape stretches across the left, with little scenes painted between clouds and flowers.
He's not cut like most men who spend an ungodly amount of time in the gym.
His stomach is a solid slab of thick muscle, his chest, shoulders, and arms defined.
When he turns, I see more tattoos across his back.
They're faded from long hours spent baking beneath the hot sun, but no less beautiful.
"Lesson four," he says, popping the button of his jeans and the crawling onto the bed with me. "There are no secrets between a cowboy and his woman." He plants his hands on either side of my head, caging me in beneath him. "What's under your bed?"
"Dust bunnies, probably," I whisper, staring up into his eyes. "I don't vacuum under there very often."
"No toys?"
"I don't think it's very sanitary to keep those under the bed, Cord."
"Where do you keep them then?"
I blush, squirming beneath him. Somehow, admitting that I own sex toys makes me feel more vulnerable than admitting that my mom made me a crazy person. "Um, in my drawer."
He rewards me with a soft kiss, his lips working against mine until I'm boneless and whimpering beneath him. I taste the peaches on his breath and the sweetness that's all him. It's sunshine, as if those long hours outdoors seeped into every cell. I love it.
"How much of the shit you write about have you done, Cassia?" he asks, nuzzling his nose against mine.
"Why?"
"Tryin' to decide where I should start, pretty baby."
"Um…"
"Don't lie now, princess. Has anyone ever touched your pussy before?"
Does my gynecologist count? Probably not.
"Maybe," I say instead, not sure I'm ready to admit to this man that the sum total of my experience boils down to what we did in the kitchen earlier. Sometimes, I watch porn to keep my scenes interesting. But that probably doesn't count as experience to anyone, let alone a man like Cord.
"Don't piss me off," he growls, his possessive tone gritting like sandpaper against my womb.
"No," I admit, squeezing my eyes closed. "Until today, no one ever touched me."
He's completely silent above me. "You're a virgin?"
"Yes." I peel my eyes open, tilting my head back on the pillow to meet his gaze. "I'm not ashamed of it either, Cord. I'm a twenty-six-year-old virgin who writes dirty books. So if that's a dealbreaker for you, fine. But I won't feel badly about waiting for the right–"
His mouth crashes down on mine, his kiss hard and insistent.
His weight presses me deeper into the bed.
I instantly love the way he feels on top of me.
He's so solid, so hard everywhere. I run my hands up his back, reveling in the way his muscles bunch and ripple beneath my palms as if in response to my touch.
"You weren't waiting for the right one, Cassia," he says against my mouth, nipping at my bottom lip. "You were waiting for the one. You were waitin' for me."
"Cord," I whisper, pretty sure he's right.
Pretty sure I'm in love with him. That is what this is, isn't it?
That's why I couldn't get him out of my head.
It's why I came to Lake Tahoe, why I snuck onto his ranch.
It's why I'm in his bed instead of at the resort where I'm supposed to be.
I'm in love with this ridiculous, bossy, beautiful cowboy.
I think I was falling for him before I ever set foot on his ranch today.
It's entirely too fast…and yet it's not.
When Paige and I took Emmy day drinking the other day, I told Paige I'd know love when I felt lightning. This is that electrical charge striking all the way into my soul. I think I knew it then. I was just too afraid to admit it.
"It's time for another lesson, pretty baby," Cord breathes, kissing a trail down my neck.
He comes to his knees, straddling me. His hands circle my waistline…
or what would be my waistline if I wasn't more pear-shaped than hourglass shaped, anyway.
He skims his hands up my sides, lifting my shirt as he goes.