Page 58 of The Outlaw and the Heir

I scanned the room briefly, curious about what decoration he would choose, if any at all. A large rug was spread on the floor near the bed, with a seating area tucked away in a corner under a window. There was a small table beside a chair, and I walkedover to see another unlit lantern and a book. I flipped it over, reading the cover and grunting in mild surprise. I hadn't taken him for much of a reader, but the surprising part was that it was Jane Austen.

"Aren't you full of surprises?" I asked quietly, tensing when I heard a soft movement behind me, reminding me that, technically, I wasn't alone.

I turned around, and the tension in me bled away in an instant, and I felt my chest squeeze. Ambrose had definitely fallen asleep waiting for me to arrive, sprawled on his back, arm thrown over his face. The sweet part came from the fact that Bear was sprawled next to him, shoved against the wall, long front legs splayed over Ambrose, and his big head resting on the man's bare chest. The source of the noise was obvious as Bear's tail flopped lazily, occasionally hitting the wall as he stared at me with his big eyes.

I approached them, smirking when Bear's tail sped up, and I reached out, placing a hand on his head, and watched as his tail calmed down. I glanced down at Ambrose and the warmth that squeezed my chest at the cute sight twisted and dug into my gut, becoming a different heat. Ambrose had kicked off his boots and pulled off his shirt, leaving him only in his pants.

The lantern cast shadows over him and made his skin glow pleasantly. My fingers itched to reach down and trace the lines of his stomach as it rose and fell from his steady breathing. I knew from experience his skin would be warm and the muscles would be pleasantly, erotically firm from all the work he did. And I knew if he was awake when I did it, his breathing would sharpen, and his eyelids would flutter when my touch moved lower.

I took a moment to inspect his face, completely absent of the normal scowl and dark look in his eyes that spoke volumes about how serious and anxious his inner thoughts were. Asleep, however, the lines were gone, and his expression was almostsoft. It was far easier to see now that he was about my age. I'd never really thought about it, but most of the time when he was awake, all that frowning, scowling, and growling at people added years to his face.

"Handsome while awake, cute while asleep," I murmured wryly before sitting on the edge of the bed. I didn't know if it was the shifting of the cot or the sound of my voice so close, but his eyes fluttered open. I watched him, his body tensing momentarily before his expression eased when he realized it was me. For a moment, I felt a flash of hot envy at the fact that being awoken by a potential stranger in his personal space was a source of surprise and not a potential threat to his life. I had lost that sort of innocence a long time ago, and I knew he didn't fully comprehend what he had.

"What?" he asked, and I smiled at the roughness in his voice that told me he'd probably been asleep for a while.

"Well," I said, finally giving in to my urge from earlier and placing my hand on his stomach, enjoying how his muscles jumped at the touch. "In case you forgot, the deal was that if you left the light on, I would come on in."

"Yeah," he said gruffly, looking around with bleary eyes. "Time is it?"

"Late," I said with a shrug. "Wasn't exactly given a clock to measure the time precisely. I suppose your father didn't think it was necessary."

Ambrose snorted, his hand coming to rest atop mine. "More like he thought about it and decided against it. There's nothin' much that gets past him, I can tell you that."

"I more or less figured that out on my own," I said, distracted by the way his fingers stroked my hand gentler than any other time he'd touched me. Apparently, he was far gentler and affectionate when he was half asleep. Perhaps a holdover fromthose mornings when he woke up early enough to doze and cuddle with his dog.

He grunted. “Can't believe you got in here without me knowin'...really can't believe?—"

I smirked down at him. “Are you kidding? Being quiet and not getting caught is one of my best skills. Even as a kid, I could get around quietly. Some people have a gift for it...and sometimes you make it better by learning how to watch people and things and anticipate when they're going to do things and when they're not. That also helps."

"Naw," he chuckled, bringing his hand to rest on Bear's head, the dog closing his eyes at the touch and letting out a contented sigh. "My father is the only person who don't make Bear growl or bark when they get near the cabin. Everyone else? Bear lets 'em know he's here and can hear that they're too close without permission."

"What? Him?" I asked, reaching over to scratch Bear's nose, making his lip quiver. "We're old friends now."

"Hmph, can't say he's got good taste."

"Hey, Ambrose?"

"Hmm?"

I bent over to look down into his face with an exceptionally smug smirk. "That means your taste isn't much better, considering you were lying here, waiting for me to show up."

Some of the fogginess in his eyes disappeared, replaced by sparks of interest and arousal. "I might remember something like that."

"Might," I echoed back, letting my fingers trace down his stomach to feel the tickle of the hair peeking out of his pants. I let them brush against my fingertips, enjoying the way his attention quickly became locked on me as he realized I was completely serious and intent on following through on my original idea. I was not disappointed when I felt his breath hitch as my fingersslid beneath the trousers he had loosened earlier so he could be comfortable sleeping.

"Or do," he said in a far gruffer voice than before, a sure sign that I most certainly had his attention.

"I'm sure," I said, tugging on the strings of his trousers to finish the job of loosening them before reaching in and finding what I was looking for, gently pulling him free as he grew steadily harder in my hand. I could say plenty of things about how dour and sour he could be and how much he acted like he wasn't always interested in me, but this part of him always betrayed just how much of a liar he was.

"Just...what did ya have in mind tonight?" he asked, and there was something else under the gruff voice of his arousal, something worried...or maybe a little anxious.

"Well, there's only one thing we need a great deal of privacy for, isn't there? Everything else we've done can be quickly hidden away or explained, as we've learned firsthand. But something else...well, that's a little harder to explain if you're caught with your pants down," I chuckled, stroking him slowly but keeping my eyes on him. It was clearly something he wanted if the light being on was any indication, but it was also something more than just anticipating pleasure.

"Do you...have objections to my idea?" I asked, figuring I might as well make sure he was fully on board. I'd had a couple of partners who were...less than enthusiastic due to their own issues. One because he hadn't made peace with his feelings about other men and another because, as I found out later, he had recently lost the man he'd been with for a few years and had only been looking for a bit of company as a balm to the ache in his heart.

The first man had been a lost cause, and while I hoped he’d managed to find some sort of peace, it would never come from anyone but himself. As for the second, well, the sex mighthave been off the table, but the conversation that night over a fantastic pot of stew he’d made and a strong bottle of whiskey he’d been saving for a special occasion was great. I spent a week with him before needing to move on once I caught wind that local law enforcement had started moving in and asking questions, but it had been a good week.

"Just...how?" he asked, nose wrinkling.

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