Page 78 of Catching Sparks

“You ready?” Thomas asks while I adjust my grip on the rope.

Risking a look past the crowd of drunk bodies, I focus on Garrison’s waiting glare. It’s flaming, warming me right back up. His arms are crossed over his chest, biceps bulging and jaw clenching. It’s the exact reaction I was hoping for.

Somehow, that reaction only gets better when Thomas pats my leg and Garrison focuses on where he’s touching my bare skin. I cock a brow at him, not bothering to hide my grin as his lip curls.

“I’m ready,” I say.

Thomas tips his chin and steps back. “One hand on the rope, the other in the air. We’ll start the clock once you start moving.”

I shift my pelvis and lean forward on the bull before lifting my arm in the air.

“Thanks for the help,” I tell him before he climbs over the barrier.

His smirk spells trouble. “No worries, beautiful. See you on the other side.”

The first jolt of the bull beneath my body is a shock. I slide forward before I tighten my thighs around its body and prepare for the rock backward. It starts slow, a tease of something easy and comfortable that won’t last more than a few seconds. By the time my palm has grown sweaty around the rope, it’s moving much quicker, harsher, my entire body jerking and muscles pulling. Cool air hits higher up my thighs as my dress rides up, but I can’t reach back to adjust it.

“That ’a girl, Poppy!” Anna screams as the crowd cheers, growing excited with every second that I stay on the bull.

I want to find her and smile in thanks, but the only person I can make out is Garrison. I’m drawn to him, and it doesn’t seem to matter the time or place, he’s the centre of my attention.

Possession and an unmissable sense of desire. Of potent need. That’s what I see in those guarded greenish-brown eyes as he watches me from just beyond the crowd, having moved closer in the time I’ve been on this bull. He can’t keep himself away from me the same way I can’t keep my distance from him. There’s no lie in the world that could convince me otherwise.

I don’t know how long I last on the bull, but my legs burn, and my grip on the rope is now utterly worthless. I’m weak and sore, preparing my jump off. The moment I feel my fingers slip down the rope, I move both my legs to one side of the bull and jump.

It’s not perfect by a long shot. I stumble on my feet, arms flailing wide as I fight for balance. Then, Thomas is in front of me, steadying me with his hands on my elbows. I stare at him, the ground swaying beneath my feet.

“I’m good,” I say when he leans in far too close.

He grins devilishly. “Yeah, I know. But he’s not, and I’ve been waiting to see that guy lose his cool since he got to CP.”

Whipping my head to the side, I sway on the padding beneath me and gasp. My eyes nearly roll back in pleasure at the sight of Garrison grabbing hold of the barrier and tossing himself over it. He lands gracefully on his feet, and I embrace his seething anger as he stalks toward me, letting it wrap around me, feeling strangely safe.

His touch is gentle yet branding as he sidesteps Thomas, nostrils flaring while taking my hand in his and pulling me into his chest. I melt against him despite my best efforts. He feels so good, his body molded around mine in the most delicious way.

I tip my head back to stare up at him and shudder against his chest. Only in my dirtiest dreams did I imagine being stared at with this unholy level of desire.

When he speaks, the words are strained, guttural.

“We’re leaving. Do yourself a favour and don’t argue with me. If you listen, maybe I’ll allow you the ability to be able to sit once I’m done with you.”

I’m the one pulling him out the door.

28

GARRISON

I let Poppy pull me through the bar. It’s the only control she’ll have tonight. Once we step outside, she’s mine. In every fucking sense of the term. Mind, body, soul. Until I say otherwise.

My vision is lined with red, my gut throbbing with rage. The blond man touched her. Not once but twice. He felt the bare heat of her silky skin with his fingers and enjoyed it. I know he did. How could he not?

It should have been me gripping her hips and lifting her onto that death trap. My lungs sharing her breath when she stumbled onto the mat and my hands on her elbows, balancing her.

The world blurs into something entirely new. Unfamiliar feelings and desires blooming with stems lined with sharp thorns.

I’ve always been possessive of my things. I’m an only child and never liked to share. But I’ve never experienced this as an adult and never once over a woman. I feel like I’m choking on the urge to take her in the middle of this bar in front of everyone, suddenly more beast than man.

I’m at a loss for what to do, not trusting myself to make any smart decision. A bad, stupid idea is more appealing. I’ve never quite liked recklessness before tonight, and now I can’t seem to get enough of it.

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