Page 40 of Ride a Cowboy

She blinked rapidly, fairly certain she hadn’t taken a breath in the last five minutes. “What?”

“I’ll let him explain it to you, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful and I’m very flattered that you’d even consider taking me back to your bed after the last time, but?—”

“The last time wasn’t bad.” The words fell out of her mouth without her thinking about them. Like that was anything new.

Hank chuckled, while Porter grinned. “Thanks for that. I think you and me are going to be really good friends.”

With that, he gave her a wink and left the room.

“Hank, I?—”

“I can’t share you. Not even with Porter.” His admission took her by surprise.

“I don’t understand. You and Sharon?—”

“You’re not Sharon, Macie. And I was wrong to…God, to think you were.”

His words went through her like a knife, but she schooled her features, refused to let him see how hurt she was.

“You sent that text, inviting Porter upstairs, and I knew I’d kill him if he touched you.” Hank crossed the room, guilt covering his features as he took her hands in his. “I hope you can forgive me. I told you there was nothing I wouldn’t give you if it was possible, but letting another man near you, well…that’s not going to happen.”

Nothing he said was making sense to her. She wasn’t Sharon, but suddenly that didn’t seem like a bad thing. “You’re jealous of Porter?”

“Yeah. Insanely so. I didn’t intend to fall so fast, Whiskey. I spent twenty years of my life in love with the same woman, and I made the mistake of thinking that all love felt the same. I was a fool.”

She processed that and realized he was right. She’d genuinely loved Johnnie, but her feelings for him were night and day compared to what she felt for Hank. “I get it. And I’ve been acting like an idiot tonight too. I thought if I asked Porter up here, it would prove to you that I could take Sharon’s place.”

Hank scowled. “I don’t want you to take her place. I want you. Just you. The way you are. Dammit, Macie. Are you saying you would have slept with a man you didn’t want just to please me?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have gotten that far. I was contemplating running from the house like the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels when Porter walked over to me.”

“Pretty sure?”

Leave it to Hank to latch on to the wrong part. His hands were on his hips and the man was seriously ticked off.

“Hank,” she said, reaching out to run her hands along his chest.

He gripped her wrists, tugging them away and pulling them behind her back. Her body responded instantly. As always.

Clenching pussy, tight nipples, racing heart, trouble breathing.

If she put those symptoms in WebMD, the only disease on her list would be Hank Cooper.

“Macie—” he started.

“I wouldn’t have slept with him.”

He studied her face for a full minute, and then he released her hands.

“I like this nightie,” he said as he gripped the neckline and tore the sheer lace in half, dropping his destruction to the floor.

She glanced down and shook her head. “You owe me thirty bucks.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he turned her, backing her up until her legs hit the bed. Then with pressure on her shoulder, he pushed her to the mattress, coming over her.

“You’re still dressed.” It was her most common complaint. Hank was very good at getting her out of her clothes, but he lost all patience when it came to shedding his own. Typically he just bared the essentials. And when that happened, she forgot to complain about the rest.

“Mmmhmmm,” he murmured as his lips trailed along her chest, between her breasts, moving lower. He pressed her legs apart, kneeling between them. He stroked her clit with his tongue as he pushed two fingers inside her.

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