Page 95 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
Cash laughs. “All wrong! It means it’s extremely hot outside. Goats eat peppers, so their butts would be?—”
“That’s disgusting,” I interrupt. “Who comes up with these?”
“Farmers with too much time,” Ridge adds. “So Cash owes a dare. Who’s it gonna be?”
Cash’s eyes lock on mine, of course. I swallow hard. “Sophia. You have to sit on Ridge’s lap for the next round.”
I stiffen, fire bursting through my chest. “That’s not fair!”
“Them’s the rules, sugar.”
Ridge pats his thigh, and that simple gesture shouldn’t make my mouth go dry, but here we are. “Come on. I’ll behave.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” I mutter, but I move to his lap.
I try to perch on his knee, keeping some distance, but Ridge wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me back against his chest.
“Might as well be comfortable,” he murmurs in my ear.
Comfortable. Right. I can feel every hard plane of his chest against my back, his arm solid around my waist. And is that… yes, that’s definitely his erection pressing against my ass. My body temperature spikes about a thousand degrees.
“My turn,” Walker says, and his voice has gone deeper. “Slicker than deer guts on a doorknob.”
“Why are they all gross?” I complain, trying not to squirm on Ridge’s lap. Squirming would be bad. Squirming would create friction. Friction would make Ridge’s situation more obvious and my situation more desperate.
“It means slippery,” Ridge guesses, his breath fanning against my neck.
“Dangerous?” Cash tries.
“Something about hunting?” I manage, proud that my voice doesn’t shake.
“It means very slippery or sneaky,” Walker confirms. “Ridge got it. What’s your demand?”
Ridge’s arm tightens slightly around me. “Tell me about the last dream you had.”
Walker doesn’t hesitate. “It was about a certain Omega. In my kitchen. Wearing nothing but my apron while I cooked breakfast.”
My whole body goes still.
Cash lets out a low whistle. “Don’t hold back now. What happened next?”
I lift my head off Ridge’s shoulder just enough to shoot them both a warning look. “We don’t need the details.”
Walker grins at me like I just dared him to go on.
“I mean, could’ve been any Omega,” Ridge adds dryly, like he’s trying to toss me a lifeline. “Doesn’t mean it was you.”
But I stiffen anyway.
Walker’s smile sharpens. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “She was standing barefoot on the cool tile, apron tied at the back, and nothing else. I kept cooking while she leaned over the counter, watching me. Every time she shifted her weight, I could see more of her. Every curve. Every inch I wanted to taste.”
Ridge’s breath hitches behind me.
“She turned around, lifted herself onto the island,” Walker continues, voice a little lower now. “That apron fell just enough for me to see everything. And I couldn’t help myself. I laid her back on the cold marble, peeled that apron off her slowly, and?—”
“Okay!” My voice comes out an octave too high, my cheeks blazing. “We got it. You made breakfast.”
Walker raises a brow. “Did I?”
