Page 60 of Stockman's Showdown

Slowly he moved his hand away, ready in case she did something, especially when Bree could be reckless and completely unpredictable.

‘We’ll wait here for a bit until that ATV is out of range.’ Hey, he was in no rush to move, staring down at a vision. With his fingertip, he brushed down her cheek, her dainty chin, then across those luscious lips. ‘You can’t scream, baby.’

Even though she was frowning at him, his eyes locked with hers. He licked his lips, which curved into a smile, as he was filled with a sudden urge toplay. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with an intensity that left no escape, not when he had her pinned beneath him.

Twenty-three

Bree was no stranger when it came to kissing handsome stockmen in the dark, but when Ryder’s lips met hers, the electricity that arced between them was positively magnetic. It set every nerve ending alive with desire, forcing her to kiss him deeper, as if he was the only reason she was alive. And she was oh-so very much alive.

His rough fingers tangled through her hair, his mouth crushing hers, his pelvis pushing his hardness against her, making her thighs part. And when they did, he gave a sexy groan of approval, licking her neck, then up to her lips. ‘Even though you taste like face paint, you are freaking delicious.’

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers again, pinning her to the ground. She had no choice but to kiss him back, while trying to rake her nails under his Kevlar vest, where his muscles would have to feel like warm marble that fanned the flames of desire. No, this was worse, she had a scorching blaze inside her that wanted skin. All of his skin.

His large hand cupped her thigh, where denim was all that was keeping them apart, tucking her leg over his hip, giving him room to grind into her, while kissing her deeper as his tongue tangled with hers.

A twig snapped nearby, followed by athud-thud-thudof a wallaby hopping away.

She pushed against his chest, their kiss broken, and he stared down at her with nothing but pure hunger.

‘Not the place,’ she whispered.

‘I know.’ His finger traced down the side of her face as if memorising the details.

She probably looked a mess, lying on the ground, wearing smudged face paint, with twigs and leaves in her hair.

‘But I do know that when you get up, you’ll put on that mask again, and I won’t get another chance. Not like this.’

He was right.

‘Stop fighting me on this, Bree.’ With his eyes hooded, the attention and the open desire he had for her were alarming.

Fighting was her default. She always fought. If she didn’t, she’d get hurt, and she’d been burned way too many times in her life, where that kind of emotional scarring didn’t heal overnight.

Ryder rolled off her, the cool air a welcome reprieve from the heat they were generating between them.

She sat up, trying to assume some semblance of calm, but her lips were throbbing, including the skin around her mouth. He’d kissed her hard.

‘Can we go now?’ She didn’t wait for a response. She knew the way home, even if her legs were trembling, especially her inner thighs that had wrapped around his waist. The desire for him was still a roaring fire inside her, it was unfair.

At the fence line, Ryder gripped her hand. ‘Don’t get mad, Bree. I just saw an opportunity and took it. Besides, you were kissing me back just as hard.’

That was true.

Ryder held out a cloth. ‘You can wipe off the face paint. It’s smeared.’ He gave her a devilish grin, as if enjoying the fact that he was the one who’d made a mess of her make-up.

She wiped the greasy paint off her cheeks, her chin, and lips, while Ryder watched her carefully. ‘Are you the type of guy to watch a woman dress?’

Ryder leaned in so closely, his thumb pressed on her bottom lip and his warm breath brushed against her neck as he whispered, ‘And to watch a woman eat cupcakes, yeah. But only with you.’

Before she could respond he scooped her up and dropped her on the other side of the barbed-wire fence as if she weighed nothing. Then he effortlessly leaped over it.

She knew Ryder was all muscle, but it was also the sexiest thing to see him decked out in all that weaponry. And she really did have a weird fetish for masked men in military camouflage—the grungy, get-down-in-the-dirt kind of gear that he was wearing right now. Oh lordy, lordy, lordy did they break the mould with this guy?

How was it possible that the man who’d been her taunting enemy could suddenly be so hot?

Or was she getting high off the dope fumes that lingered in her hair and clothes?

At the car, Dex was waiting for them, frantically pacing up and down. ‘Brother, it’s twenty acres.’

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