Page 140 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“I’m not a whore,” I rasp out, hating that there’s no bite in my words. Only resignation. And stupid tears welling.

“I know,” he croons. “I was just jealous.”

He turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. Guilt flashes in his eyes. His palms find my ass, squeezing before he draws me flushagainst him. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to my cheek that’s wet from a leaked tear.

“I don’t want him,” I murmur. “I thought I made it perfectly clearwhoI want.”

“Bermuda?”

“No, idiot,” I grumble, trying to shove away from him, but fail. “You.”

His lips quirk up into a pleased grin. “Say it again.”

“No.”

“I saw how you were looking at Bermuda…”

He’s serious. Bermuda is cute in a good ol’ Southern boy kind of way, but definitely not the type of man I’m attracted to. I like a man who looks at me like he wants to eat me alive.

The way Copper does right now.

“Like a brother?” I scrunch my nose up in disgust. “He’s Bermuda. Don’t be gross, Copper.”

He brings a hand to my jaw, his powerful fingers biting into it as he tilts my head back. “I will never be an agenda, Brenda.”

I wince at the use of my name. “And I’ll never treat you like one, Jeremy.”

He smirks and then lowers his lips to mine in a soft, sweet kiss. All lips and no tongue. I’m about to complain until I realize he’s smiling. Fucking teasing me. Asshole.

“Hansel gives better kisses than you—”

The words are chased back down my throat as his tongue thrusts into my mouth, possessive and greedy. The groan that follows sets my blood on fire, eliciting my own moan. His hand slides away from my jaw and spears roughly into my hair, tugging at the strands so he can keep me tilted up and prone to his delicious attack. He nips at my bottom lip as though it’s personally wronged him but then sucks away the hurt. I clutch at his T-shirt, pulling him closer to me, needing this kiss more than any kiss I’ve needed in my entire life.

“So sweet,” he rumbles, his breath tickling my wet, swollen lips. “This is such a bad idea.”

But he must not think it’s that bad of an idea because his lips are back on mine, bruising and owning. All I can do is allow this sexy, older man to claim me. Technically, I’m his captive, but right now, I feel like we’re on equal footing. Two people desperate to have the other.

He breaks from our kiss to peck his way along my jaw and to my neck. His tongue slides along my flesh, sending shivers down my spine. I wish we were home.

Home?

I almost laugh at that thought.

“What?” He pulls away, his brows pinching together in concern. “What’s wrong?”

My stupid heart does a squeeze in my chest. I hate that being trapped with Copper for so long, I’ve become this watered down, weaker version of myself. Not meeting his stare, I shrug.

“Goddammit,” he rumbles. “Tell me what I did.”

Snapping my head at him, I pin him with a glare. “I’m your captive. For a moment there, I almost forgot.”

His jaw clenches and his brown eyes flare with fury. “No, little storm, you’re just mine.”

Again, I want to melt at his words. This is the same man who insists on making me wear a shock collar. The one who handcuffs me to a bed each day so I don’t run away. God, I am so delusional.

“Whatever,” I murmur. “Can we leave now?”

He studies me for a beat. “Actually, not until you hear what I have to say, woman.”

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