Page 48 of Just Say When

He followed me, which was a problem because the only place I was going was away from him. I headed out of the barn and wandered aimlessly toward the pasture. Maple, a pretty chestnut mare, greeted me at the fence. I gave her the apple and she lipped it up.

Behind me, Brax growled.

“Why the hell are you so ornery?” he demanded. “You’ve been in a bad mood for a week.”

“My mood is fine when you’re not around,” I snapped.

Annoyance darkened his blue eyes, and for a moment I thought I had finally broken him. This was the moment he was going to walk away. But then his expression shifted and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “All right. Tell me what I did so I can fix it.”

Goddammit. Now I felt bad.

“Why?” I asked. “What’s the point?”

The look on his face suggested I was in serious danger of being throttled. “Happy wife, happy life, right?” he said with a sardonic edge to his voice.

“You wouldn’t know how to make a woman happy even if she was sitting on your face,” I muttered.

He stilled. “What did you say?”

“I said…” My voice trailed off as I realized that there was no way in hell I could repeat myself. Self-preservation lodged the words deep in my throat.You’re in danger, girl.

“I know what you said.”

His words were both a promise and a threat and I shivered in the Colorado sunshine.

For a moment we simply stared at each other.

And then?—

“Fuck it,” he growled.

He came right at me. I backed up and kept backing up until my back hit the fence post, and still he kept coming, not stopping until he was so close I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

And promptly wished I hadn’t.

Good lord, this man was going to eat me alive. And I was going to let him do it.

“You’ve put me in an awkward position, hellion.” He dropped to his knees right there in the tall brown grass. “You know how much I love being right. But you love proving me wrong. So if I eat this pussy until you scream my name, will you be happy? Or will you be mad that I’m right? It’s a paradox.”

I could feel the heat of his hands through the thin material of my leggings as he glided his wide palms up my legs, stopping at the crease of my pelvis. His hands were so broad that his thumbs could graze the cleft of my pussy if he put his mind to it. But he wouldn’t. Not here, not out in the open like this. Would he? “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

His lips quirked. “Oh, we’ll know.”

And then he caught hold of the waistband anddragged my leggings down to my ankles. Goose bumps broke out on my bare legs as I stared down at him, dumbfounded. He had really done it.

His hands swept up my thighs, under my sweater. “You’re not wearing underwear.” He sounded almost angry, and a whole lot desperate.

“I hate panty lines,” I admitted. “I never wear underwear with leggings.”

He muttered something under his breath about never letting me leave the house like that again. His thumb swiped the cleft of my pussy. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“I’ll wear what I want,” I said, breathless from what his hands were doing to me, but still not too breathless to argue. “Anyway, who cares? No one will know if I have underwear on or not.”

His hands stopped and I wanted to kill him. His blue eyes glittered up at me like shards of ice. “I’llknow.”

Goodness. My hips bucked, demanding more attention from his clever fingers.

He had the audacity to laugh. “Do you know what I think, hellion?”

---