Page 69 of Westin

I don’t move.

“I said, come here.”

I lift my chin. “I know what you said, sir, but that doesn’t change me not listening.”

He hits his hat against his thigh. “I’m going to spank your perfect ass,” he says, but there’s no anger in his voice.

No, it’s thick and desperate, like if I don’t come to him, he might die at my feet.

I go because I asked for answers, and my Nana gave me Westin Quinn. That much is obvious. His eyes follow me, lingering on my mouth. He’s giving me that look, the one that comes before a kiss. His hand comes up, rough and warm, on the back of my neck.

He pulls me in, but he doesn’t kiss me.

“Fuck,” he says. “I've never touched another man’s wife.”

I can taste the desire on his breath.

“It’s not like that,” I blurt out. “I made Thomas agree it’s in name only. He sleeps with whoever he wants…and I can too.”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t believe that.”

“He did. That’s why he won’t let me leave Garrison Ranch.”

“So he said it, but he doesn’t really mean it.” His brows are creased.

I nod. “But he said it.”

His throat bobs. Sweat trickles down and disappears beneath his shirt. We’re so close, I can feel the heat coming off him. I want to feel every inch of him. I want him laid out in this field with his cock between my legs, as deep as he can get it.

I’ve been dead for weeks, but tonight, I’m alive again.

“He sleeps with other women?” he asks.

I nod. “He does. I thought it was only fair if I wasn’t letting him touch me.”

His eyes change, like the light sparks back into them. His hands tighten on the nape of my neck, and he drags me another inch towards his body until my breasts brush his upper stomach.

We both inhale sharply.

“He’s never touched you?” he rasps.

“No,” I whisper. “You’re the only person who has.”

I can tell he’s dying to know how I pulled that off, but I’m not getting into Thomas and Avery’s complicated relationship or how I’ve exploited it to protect myself.

Right now, I don’t want to think about the fucking Garrisons.

He steps back, and Billie rises. He gives a low whistle, and she drops back down. Her tail swishes. Apparently, all it takes for her tofall in love is a treat. Westin reaches in his pocket and takes out another, tossing it underhanded so she can snap it from the air.

“Stay put,” he orders.

She wriggles her body, like she’s promising she will. I scowl, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he picks me up, letting my bag drop to the ground, and slings me over his shoulder. I yelp, but I don’t protest.

He carries me several yards away, like he knows I want privacy from the cemetery, and spills me into the grass. His face is hard, his eyes glittering in the dim light. The hands that rip his belt open have more scars than I remember.

I love it. I love his rough body.

He pulls his shirt free of his pants. Then, he falls over me, shoving my thighs apart. My skirt slides back, revealing the gun strapped to my thigh. His brows rise, and his gaze flicks to mine.

---