Page 5 of Swift and Saddled

He stopped a few steps from me, and his green eyes cut through the dark. They were heated as they drank me in—but also concerned, maybe?

That made two of us.

“You okay?” the stranger asked, not letting me break his gaze. He was close now, so I had to crane my neck to look at him. I stepped toward him and nodded. I didn’t trust my voice. It would give me away. It would tell him that I wasn’t okay and whatever this trance was that both of us were in would snap.

I didn’t want that. I wanted something new.

I wanted him—the man who looked at me like I was worth looking at.

“Are you sure—” I cut him off when I fisted my hands in his shirt, pushed up on my toes, and hauled his mouth down to mine.

He was still, stunned, but only for a second before he brought one hand up to cup my face and the other to twist in my hair.

Yes,I thought.I need this.His hand against my face was rough, just as I thought it would be, but he was soft—like he was savoring this.

My mouth moved against his, and he dragged the hand that was against my face down the side of my body to grip my hip. His hand left a trail of electricity behind. It was like I could feel the air crackling all around me.

I needed to be closer to him.

I dropped my bag and wrapped my hands around his neck just as he pushed me back against the door with a delicious amount of force. I thought my head was going to knock against the door, but the hand that was in my hair cupped the back of my head, making sure I didn’t hit it. Then heused that hand to grip both of my hands and pin them above my head.

Our bodies were flushed and our tongues tangled. When he gently nipped at my bottom lip, I couldn’t help but moan and hope that the sound was drowned out by the jukebox.

His other hand traveled from my hip to my ass, and he slid his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. “Is this okay?” he asked against my mouth.

“More,” I breathed. He gripped my ass. Hard.

“Fuck, who are you and what are you doing to me?” he groaned. My hips rolled involuntarily, needing more, and I could feel his hard dick under his jeans. When was the last time I’d turned someone on? When was the last timeI’dbeen turned on?

A loud cough came from the end of the hallway, and both of us froze. I looked up at the cowboy, who kept his eyes on me before dropping my hands and turning to address our intruder.

“I need to get into my office—if you don’t mind.” It was Brooks. The bartender. He sounded like he was smiling, but I didn’t look at him to confirm. My cheeks were hot, and I wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out.

This was so stupid. I was so stupid.

I always did this. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t totally get rid of that part of me that thrived on rash, impulsive decisions. Impulsive decisions themselves weren’t the problem. I’m sure some people made great ones, but I wasn’t one of them. When I made an impulsive decision, I usuallyended up paying for it for a while to come—my failed marriage being the prime example of this Adanomenon.

“But you guys are welcome to continue against the other wall,” the bartender continued. Oh god. This was so embarrassing. I couldn’t take it.

So I did what I’d come to Wyoming to do.

I ran.

Chapter 3

Wes

I stared at the bag on the kitchen counter in the Big House. It was my only tangible proof that last night had actually happened—my own glass slipper or some shit.

The woman from the bar was heavy on my mind. I hadn’t slept at all. I was awake all night wondering about her.

Who was she?

Where did she come from?

Why didn’t I go after her after she kissed me?

Brooks was the answer to that last one. After she ran off, Brooks stood in the hallway of the Devil’s Boot, blocking me, with a stupid cocky smirk on his face.

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