Page 12 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

Colton clears his throat and takes a few steps back. “I’ll be out for a while, but I’ll see you later. Can’t wait to see what you’ve got lined up for dinner because breakfast and lunch were top-notch.”

I chuckle softly as I watch him leave, his massive frame receding into the deep shadows of the hallway. As his footsteps fade, I’m left on my own, taking copious breaths as the ghost of his touch lingers on my earlobe.

Later that afternoonI’m upstairs in my room and somewhat frustrated by the absence of hot water in my bathroom. Darla took me shopping for new clothes shortly after lunch, and I want to take a bath, but the water is ice cold.

“Dang it,” I mutter as I try to find a solution to my problem.

I go downstairs to check the kitchen faucets first. Maybe it’s an issue with the entire house, and then I can text Sammy to let him know. If the heating system is acting up, they need to dealwith it before winter sets in. We’re nearing the end of November already. But there’s hot water in the kitchen.

A few moments pass, and I get a not-so-bright idea—but it’s one that makes sense. I go to Colton’s bathroom and let out a delighted squeal as I feel the hot water running down my arm. It’s risky to be in here but I do need a hot bath and they won’t be back for another hour at least. Why waste this golden opportunity?

I let the hot water run and fill the tub, then peel my clothes off and get right in. As soon as I sink into the water, I feel my muscles instantly relax. I welcome the sensation and revel in every minute, scrubbing myself squeaky clean, then washing my hair. Alas, I didn’t think to bring a towel or my toiletries downstairs in this operation, so I use a bit of Colton’s shampoo.

“Oh, it smells nice,” I whisper as I lather my hair, then sink under the water for that ultra fresh feel. The scent of cedarwood feels like a warm hug as I come out of the bath and wring the excess water from my hair before I clean the tub, my body emanating a most delicious kind of heat.

The sound of approaching footsteps startles me, and I scramble to reach for a towel, but it’s too late. I freeze as Colton comes into the bathroom with a confused look on his face.

“Shit,” I say.

Colton stands in the doorway, his jeans hugging him tightly—too tightly around the crotch area by the looks of it. My nakedness had an instant impact on him, and I press my lips into a tight line as I struggle to drag my gaze away from that ginormous bulge.

“Melissa.”

“Colton,” I manage. “I… I can explain.”

“Please, do, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

The shadow of a smile dances across his face, and my core ignites. I need to pull myself together. This is completely inappropriate, no matter what my body is shamelessly hinting. “Could I maybe get that towel first?”

Again, he smiles. “It’s a gorgeous view. Why would I want to obscure it?” Again, my body reacts in a way that is not suited for this moment. Maybe that’s his intention. Making this situation worse, just for kicks. He’s messing with me. But the hunger in his eyes is real. I recognize the desire, the crackling fire burning just beneath the surface. I recognize it because I feel it, too, with equal intensity.

This is dangerous. He’s my boss. I’m an inmate. This can’t happen. It shouldn’t.

“Please?” I try again.

“Well, since you ask so nicely,” Colton replies, then grabs the towel from the wall-mounted drying rack and brings it over. I’d hoped he’d toss it instead because the close proximity is making my blood simmer and my head dizzy. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” I mumble and quickly wrap it around myself. “I’m so sorry. There’s no hot water in my bathroom. I just came in to see if the problem was general—”

“There’s no need to apologize. I forgot to mention that the upstairs pipes are iffy sometimes. Sammy will take a look at it when he gets back.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He steps even closer. I should push back. Run away.

But I can’t. I don’t want to.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, startled by the fact that I can feel his hot breath on my face, and it’s doing one hell of a number on me.

“Testing a theory.”

“What theory?”

He cups my cheek with one hand. I don’t resist. God, it feels incredible. It’s as if my whole body is opening up to him, desperate for his undivided attention. “I told you… it’s written all over your face.”

Without hesitation, he kisses me.

My lips part eagerly, and his tongue rushes in to taste and explore me. I welcome him and taste the subtle hints of mint and coffee.

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