Page 34 of Westin

I want him to do that again and again.

My head lolls to the side. His hand is there, braced on the seat before my eyes. Those long fingers know how to touch me. Maybe they hurt me a little too, but I don’t dwell on that. The pleasure is so much stronger.

He pushes himself upright and takes a bandana from his pocket. I lie still while he wipes my breasts, up to my throat. He rubs two fingers over the last bit and puts it to my lips.

“Open,” he says.

I hesitate, but the part of me that needs him like air, like water, urges me to obey. So I do. His rough fingertips slip past my lips. I taste salt and Westin on my tongue.

Our eyes meet and my lips close over his fingers. My stomach has a pit in it that says one thing—I’m falling hard and fast.

“Good girl,” he says, gently drawing his fingers from my mouth.

He sits back and I hear his belt buckle clink. The roof of his truck swims in my vision. His zipper hisses, and then he lifts me up, and I’m in his lap again.

“You alright, darling?” His voice is soft.

I nod, breathless.

His fingers move over the buttons of my dress, covering my breasts. Then, he leans in and kisses my neck. A low, guttural sound comes from his chest.

“You smell like mine,” he says.

That goes right through my veins like fire. I’m breathless, but I smile, unable to hold it back. His eyes light up, fixed on my mouth.

“God, you’re pretty,” he says, distracted.

I think I might be scared, even if it is flattering, the way he’s staring at me. I’m starting to think this is more serious than I thought. Maybe that part of me that wondered what it’d be like to belong to him is a louder voice than I anticipated.

“I guess…maybe I should go,” he says.

It’s clear that’s the last thing he wants. I trail my fingers up his chest and rest two of them on his pulse point.

He keeps still, just letting me touch him.

“Do you want to come see my horses instead?” I ask. “The men will be gone for a while yet.”

“Sure, darling,” he says, smiling. “Let’s go see your horses.”

He gets out of the truck and tucks the front of his shirt in, circling to open my door. My heart patters when his hands touch my waist to lift me down. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of feeling him pick me up.

We head to the barn. It’s cool inside, the industrial fan whirring. Gracey and Sunshine are in their stalls due to the heat. It’s not normally this hot this early in the year, and they need time to acclimate.

I lean on the door. Gracey pushes her head over the top and nuzzles my hair.

“What’s this one’s name?” Westin asks.

For a second, I just stare up at him. No one asks me about me or my animals. No one really cares. I’ve never had a man look at me the way he’s looking now—like he gives a damn what I say.

It makes me want to squirm. Instead, I shrug like this is casual.

“Gracey,” I say. “And that over there is Sunshine.”

His mouth curves.

“What? You don’t like their names?” I raise a brow.

He leans his elbows on the door. “I think it’s sweet.”

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