Page 16 of Cowboy Wolf Christmas

“Silas.”

“Mmm.” He grunted.

“Are you asleep?”

“Notnow,” he grumbled, his voice graveled, husky.

A rush of heat shot to her core. But she willed herself not to think like that. He’d already shown he wasn’t interested. He’d pulled away when they’d last kissed. Though evenshehad to admit that the fact that he’d kissed her back in the first place, not to mention that her sitting on his lap had given him a way-too-impressive erection, was a little bit . . . contradictory.

But there were more important things to consider in this case.

“Do you think the vampires will find us here?” she whispered, pulling up the covers so that they shrouded her head as she watched him through the darkness. He still hadn’t turned to face her. Her eyes traced over the planes of his back, the corded muscle there.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the tracks they’d left in the snow, about whether they’d be covered up by now. Forgotten.

Something about that idea made her a little sad. Disappointed even. Though she knew it was for the best. She didn’t want their enemies tracking them, especially this late. When they were snowed in and vulnerable. The darkness around them was all encompassing with no lights for miles. But she didn’t want the memory of them erased by the snow.

Silas rolled away from her a little further. “I think the vampires are long gone.”

“And you don’t think they’ll come looking for us again?” Her voice was a whispering hiss against his ear.

“No.” Silas groaned, stretched. “Not now that we’ve made it difficult for them.” He glanced over his shoulder toward her. “And would you stop fucking breathing on me like that? It’s . . . tempting.” He reached around to the front of his hips, adjusting himself.

A blush filled her cheeks.

“Sorry.” She eased back, embarrassed again. She was still mortified over him watching her meltdown earlier and now this. “Sorry. I just-I normally sleep with a weighted blanket, and I’m cold and you’re warm, and––”

The growl that escaped him caused her to shiver. “Are you going to come over here, or are you going to keep me awake all night?”

“Both?”

Silas let out a harsh, hiss of a curse.

“I’m sorry.” She winced. “Definitely both.”

He snarled. “Fuck me. It never turns off does it?”

“What doesn’t turn off?”

“You. This. The––” He struggled to find the right word. “The sunshine and roses bit.”

“I wasn’t sunshine and roses earlier.”

He grumbled. “I mean aside from that.”

“Aside from that?” She thought for a moment. “No. I’m always this . . . weird.” She hated that word, the way it othered her.

“I don’t think you’re weird, Cheyenne.”

Her smile faded a bit. “You’d be the only one.”

Silas rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. One large arm perched behind his head. She tried not to stare at the curve of his bicep, the tattoos there. She really did.

“I think you’re naive. Innocent. Like your head’s stuck in the clouds. Far too sweet. Like you could give me a fuckin’ toothache. But not weird.”

“Sweet,” she repeated it. “I think I can deal with that.”

“Are you going to come over here or not?”

---