Page 31 of For Cowgirls and Kings
And she hasn’t.
“Truth.” Her eyes bore into mine and I can’t contain the look of surprise sweeping across my face. Or the feeling of disappointment that follows, even if this is what I wanted originally. Now that I’ve seen her skin, I’m dying to know how far down those freckles go.
“Surprising.” I rub my hand along my chin, to keep from running it along my cock. I do want to know why she’s been upset all night. But that’s not the question that tumbles out of my mouth, as if I simply can’t keep it contained a second longer. “Was Jared really the best you’ve had?”
She makes a noise at the back of her throat, similar to a laugh, and I silently curse myself for asking her that. But the truth is, it’s bugged me since I saw him in her house.
“You’ll have to be more specific. We were only talking kissing earlier.”
I know that, and she knows I know that. She’s pushing me, but I’ll die if I don’t know.
“Let me rephrase. Did you enjoyfuckingJared, more, less or the same as the other men you’ve been with?”
The question hangs us like a noose, dangling, as we both wait to see who’ll step up and stick their head in first.
We’ve never slept together, that would fall outside of thefriendlyparameters. Lord knows I’ve wanted to, even when it was more about discovering what lay beneath the girl's perfect church clothes—how deep her innocence truly ran.
But the woman sitting before me is not the same as that girl. She’s far more brazen, feral even. And this version of her has a much stronger effect on me—a magnetic pull I’m unable to resist. I don’t only imagine fucking her,I pray for it.I’ve neverwanted something so deeply in my bones as I want to feel her body beneath mine.
And the thought of another man touching her fills me with rage that blooms into an inferno, consuming me from the inside out. But I have to know what my competition is. So I can beat it.So I can win her.
She finally shrugs her shoulders, those fucking breasts bouncing with the motion, before she crosses her arms once more. A look of insecurity finally settles on her face, and I know she’s contemplating backing out.
But she never has. And Dale’s not a loser.
With a deep breath, she closes her eyes. “I guess the same.”
“What does that mean, you guess?” I hate that I sound angry.But I am angry; angry at myself for bringing up this entire situation even though I knew it would hurt me. She doesn’t deserve it. But I can’t turn it off either.
“It means I really don’t know.” She settles farther into the couch, her eyes anywhere but on me.
“Dale,” I bite out her name, a warning. That makes her look at me, true rage filling her eyes before she settles into a look of resignation. She bends over, picking up her shirt and sliding it on, without her bra. She flops down, her back facing me once more.
If I didn’t have the worst hard-on I’ve ever had, and her bra wasn’t lying on the floor between us, I’d think I had dreamt the whole thing up.
Fuck, what if I pushed her too far?
“Dale?” I whisper softer this time, fear outweighing all else.
“I have no experience, Mateo. I don’t know if he’s better, worse, or the same because I didn’t fuck him. I haven’t fucked anyone for that matter, not that it is any of your god damn business. Now, go to bed.”
She settles further into the couch, and I remain frozen, myheart hammering so loudly in my ears I can no longer hear my own breathing.
It can’t be true that Dale’s, what?A virgin?
Dale’s the girl that’s loud and outspoken, who dances with strangers, who drinks like a fish and cusses like a sailor, who takes random men home simply because she can—because she has the power to bring any man to their knees. She’s the innocent girl who flipped the script, becoming everything her family didn’t want her to be.
The memory of her house flashes through my mind, her quirky style, and fierce need to protect it, all perfectly sealed behind a door.A black door.What if she’s the same on the inside—colorful and playful—sealed behind black lipstick?
I then think about how cheerful and bubbly she always is, and how I know that’s not always how she feels. Sometimes when she smiles, sadness lines her eyes, or she cracks a joke and fear or resentment coats her tongue.
Dale hides so much of herself, molding and reforming to fit those around her. So is it so crazy to think she could be carrying this secret too?
But how? Anyone would be lucky to be with her.
The luckiest man alive in fact.
TWELVE
