Page 17 of His Big Hometown Cowboy
Some things were worth waiting for.
And some people were worth changing everything for.
Timmy Prescott had always been both.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tim
A warm handslid up my back, pulling me from a deep, satisfying sleep.
I blinked, the sunlight harsh against my eyelids, streaming through curtains that weren’t mine.
Then a sudden, intense flood of memory—Rainbow Night, the pulsing music, Wyatt’s hand on my back, the rough kiss against his truck, his bedroom… his weight over me, the unbelievable feeling of him inside me.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Wyatt’s voice rumbled, warm and close, vibrating through the solid wall of chest pressed against my back.
I stretched, a symphony of pleasant aches echoing through muscles I hadn’t realized existed until last night. Delicious soreness. Everywhere.
“What time is it?” My voice was scratchy.
“Almost eight.”
I rolled over, wincing slightly. He was propped on one elbow, watching me. Those stormy blue eyes, usually guarded, wereopen, soft. His dark hair was adorably rumpled, stubble already shadowing his jaw. The sheet draped low across his waist, leaving that ridiculously broad chest bare. The chest I’d mapped with my hands, my mouth, just hours ago.
“Eight?” I groaned, burrowing back into the pillow. It smelled like him. “That’s practically dawn.”
His laugh was deep, rumbling through the mattress. “Some of us have been up since five, city boy.”
“Doing what?”
“Rancher, remember?” His fingers caressed my bare chest, sending little shocks straight down to my groin. “Had my foreman handle the morning rounds so I could spend the day with you.”
He’d rearranged his life, his responsibilities, just like that? For me?
Warmth bloomed low in my belly, spreading outward, chasing away the last dregs of sleep. “A whole day, huh?” I let my gaze drift down his body. “What did you have in mind?”
His eyes darkened, following my gaze, heat flaring in their depths. “Plenty.” He cleared his throat, the spell momentarily breaking. “But first, I should probably get you back to Travis. Can’t have him thinking I’ve kidnapped his little brother.”
Travis. Right. Reality intruded.
“Travis won’t worry.” I stretched again, a deliberate, slow movement, letting the sheet slide further down my hips. Watching his eyes follow the motion was intoxicating. “He knows I’m a big boy who can take care of himself.”
“That you are.” Wyatt’s gaze was hot, hungry, lingering where the sheet now rested. “But I can’t very well take you back to your brother smelling like sweat and sex.”
“Is that your way of saying I stink?” I feigned offense, poking his bare shoulder.
He leaned in close, burying his face against my neck, inhaling deeply. His stubble scraped. Goosebumps erupted. “You smell like me. Like us.” His voice muffled against my skin. “And while I fucking love it, might be a bit obvious.”
Yes. Everything felt obvious this morning. I bit the inside of my cheek, considering. “Shower, then?”
“Shower,” he agreed, dropping a quick, hard kiss on my shoulder before rising from the bed. One fluid motion.
I couldn’t help but give a sigh of appreciation at the sight of him.
Wyatt. Naked. In the bright morning light flooding the room.
All six-foot-four of him, solid muscle, sun-bronzed skin, powerful shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist and that sinfully perfect ass. He turned, giving me the full-frontal view, and I swallowed hard.
