Page 16 of Maverick
She’s put herself in a weird position. There are a lot more men around the rodeo than there are women, but of course there are groupies who are super into cowboys, so there’s no shortage of sex and fun for those who want to partake. But the cowgirls who signal availability are liable to get themselves hit on quite a bit.
Mind you, a lot of the men prefer the rodeo queen type. A little bit more bedazzled than Stella.
She has a fresh-faced thing going for her. I like it. I can’t say there’s a kind of woman I don’t like, if I’m honest. So, it surprised me, the degree to which I felt drawn to her when I first saw her. It is not like she’s some magicaltypethat I have.
Funny to find out that she does dressage, though.
I shove that thought to the side.
Because any commonalities between her and Sadie are… a coincidence.
And that’s the truth. I would never have looked at her and thought she was that kind, not without being told. Now that I know, I can see it. Mainly, I resent the fact that I do feel protective of her. I feel anything. Not my circus, not my monkeys, and yet she’s working at becoming a monkey on my back, that’s for sure.
There’s another ride tonight, both for me and for her. My pre-ride ritual is pretty fixed. I drink a lot of water, and I try to get into a headspace where everything is pretty shut out. People think I’m unfriendly because I am. I didn’t use to be.
Well, I guess I’ve never been Mr. Congeniality. But a lifetime of child neglect will do that to you. I thought I found the cheat code. The exit strategy.
Fake it till you make it.
Then fucking life happened.
That’s what I told Stella. And I’m not kidding. Life has a sick sense of humor.
I always smoke a cigarette after a ride, but I don’t smoke all the time.
It’s the thing that I do to let off a little bit of steam. A habit that I had years ago, that I dropped, and picked up again, because why the fuck not? Who am I trying to impress, and what am I trying to live for? Once the answer to those questions was gone, I just… I just went right back to the self-destructive road I was on before.
Sort of.
I spend the day in my routine, and around dinnertime, there’s food out for the cowboys and cowgirls, and I decide to make my way to the barbecue tent so that I can get some for myself. That’s when I see Stella, essentially backed into a corner by Holt.
Yeah, this was my worry.
That what she did would signal availability in a way that she didn’t necessarily want. I can understand wanting to look like a badass who followed through with her word; hell, that’s part of why I did it in the first place. I don’t want to look like the guy who lets someone off the hook for a bed. But…
Violence courses through my veins. I can see how uncomfortable she looks. I close the distance between myselfand her, my vision single-minded, and then I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her up against me. “You got a question you need to ask?” I pose that to Holt. Menacingly.
Holt lifts his brows. “We were having a conversation.”
Stella turns and looks at me, half fury, half relief. I can see that she’s angry that I’m coming to her rescue in any regard. Fair enough.
I can also see that she wanted it. She’s soft underneath my hand, and honestly, I could just enjoy this for a minute. It doesn’t have to be anything more. Doesn’t ever have to progress, but my hand on that thin T-shirt, over her toned midsection, is really doing it for me.
“Didn’t realize the bet was still going on.”
“Oh, I didn’t need a bet,” I say. “I’m just so fucking charming.”
Stella puts her hand on my face, and before I can react, stretches up on her toes and kisses me on the cheek. Her lips are soft, the move so innocent that it does something to me. I didn’t expect it. I guess nobody sees a sweet kiss on the cheek coming until it slugs them in the gut.
I’m speechless. Which is ridiculous. There was a time when a woman could’ve flashed her tits at me and I wouldn’t have broken a sweat, but she kissed me on the cheek and I can’t remember where I’m at.
I must still look intimidating, though, because Holt has backed away a step.
“Yeah. Careful,” I say. “You step into my arena, you get the horns.”
Holt backs away, and Stella shoves into me, pushing me into the corner. “Yourarena? That is the most misogynistic–”
“Excuse me. I just rescued you. Don’t go nitpicking the method.”
