Page 32 of Reckless Hearts

I picture booting him out of bed and wonder how badly he’d kill me.

I shift so my back is facing him, trying to get comfortable, but it’s no use.

Every molecule in my body is tuned to him.

The rough sound of his breathing.

The faint cologne still clinging to his skin.

The covers rustling when he moves.

Everything has my pulse racing and my heart clawing at my ribs.

What the absolute fuck is happening to me?

“Your thoughts are too loud,” he huffs like I’m an annoying dog.

He shifts again, and this time, the sheet pulls low across his hips.

Something about the movement is lazy, and unguarded makes my mouth go dry.

“You’re breathing too loud,” I mutter under my breath.

Real mature, Colt.

He doesn’t answer. His favorite move: complete, infuriating silence.

I’m listening so hard I hear the exact second his breathing deepens into sleep.

He’s relaxed.

I’m trapped, choking on his heat traveling the distance between us.

He makes a low sound in his sleep, something between a sigh and a growl, and it shoots straight into my brain, flipping all my circuits.

I don’t know what I’m feeling and I’m too drunk to figure it out but I know I don’t like it.

And I know it’s his fault.

Smothering my head with the pillow, I force myself to breathe slow and deep.

Mav’s right.

It’s going to be a long-ass night.

Chapter 11

Maverick

Colt bursts outof the gate, riding Diablo, the top-ranked bull of the season. Both a lucky and unlucky draw. A make-or-break situation.

He can earn the top score if he sticks the eight, but on that animal, eight seconds might as well be eight hours.

I woke up with his face inches from mine. Like the world had hit pause, I froze, letting myself use the quiet to take him in. The sharp edges of his features had eased in sleep. He looked soft. Like someone I’d want to hold on to. Kind of cute, actually… when he wasn’t busy glaring at me.

My fingers tighten on the cool steel bar, leaning into the fence for a better view.

As much as I hate it, I’ve got to admit Colt’s a beautiful rider. Graceful, pliant, moving with and not against the bull.

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