Page 95 of For Cowgirls and Kings
I smirk at the words—I wonder if Stetson is standing behind him forcing him to send the text.
ME: Sometimes.
GUS: Are you doing anything to help her besides panting after her?
ME: It worked for you, didn’t it?
GUS: Fuck you.
ME: So we’re in the kiss and make up part of this fight?
I can’t help the goonish smile ripping across my face as I wait for his reply, the bubbles popping up and disappearing twice before the text comes through.
GUS: No.
GUS: Hurt her and I’ll kill you.
ME: Thanks for the pep talk mom, I got it covered.
GUS: Any news on the third guy?
I pause, chewing on my lip. Knowing two of the guys are gone gives me some peace, and I think it does for Dale too. But the knowledge of the still missing third man keeps me up at night, and apparently, Gus.
I suck in a deep breath—I should have protected her better, I should have stopped this all from happening. I still need to figure out what Valentina had to do with everything. She won’t answer my calls, and I can’t tear myself away from Dale long enough to hunt her down and ask the questions I’m almost too afraid to know the answers to.What did she do?
The sound of heels clacking against the wooden stairs fills the entry way and I fire off a quick reply.
ME: Nothing yet.
I glance up, the oxygen all but wheezing from my lungs.
Fuck, she’s a Goddess.
She hasn’t noticed me looking at her yet, too busy watching her feet as she descends the stairs—she looks nervous and self-conscious and I hate that she doesn’t feel the power she has over everyone and everything in her life.Anyone would do anything for her,she just needs to see that.
With her eyes averted, I drink in her gorgeous features like a thirsty man in a desert. She’s in a short black leather skirt, a flowy plum top tucked into the waistband. It’s slightly sheer and I can see the black lacy bra beneath it, barely containing the perfect swells of her heavy breasts. Black knee high cowboy boots, simple black stitching running up the fronts, cover her feet and tanned calves. Her silky hair is loose, billowing like an onyx curtain behind her, and for the first time in weeks dark makeup covers her face.
She looks like she did before all of this happened. Only different—better, braver, stronger somehow.
It nearly knocks me to my fucking knees.
She clears her throat, and I trace my eyes back up her body, not even attempting to hide that I was busy checking her out—and that I’m near feral for what I see.
“You didn’t say where we were going or what we were doing. Is this okay? I can go change, it would only take?—”
I step toward her, extending my hand out in an effort to cut off her nervous rambling. “You look perfect,” I state. She glancesdown, before hesitantly sliding hers into my waiting grip. The touch sends flames licking up my arm, but I don’t waver, not even for a second. I’ll gladly burn alive if she’ll just keep touching me.
Fuck, maybe going out is the wrong move here. Maybe I should just bend her over and see if her panties match that insanely sexy bra.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She sounds a little breathless, and it goes straight to my cock like a bolt of lightning, my balls drawing up.
“Like what?” I ask nonchalantly, mixing the words as I clear my throat of the lump forming there. I peek a glance at her face, which is now flushing the prettiest pink, her dark eyebrow raised toward her hairline.
“Like I’m leading you over a bed of coals on a leash.”
I have to look away as that very vivid, very errotic description flashes in my head. Because if she sees my face, she’s only going to see a hungry desire for her to dojust that. Anything to make her see me, claim me, make me hers.
In an attempt to deflect, I open my stupid mouth saying the first thing that pops into my mind, “That doesn’t sound like something a friend would do.”
