Page 126 of My Cowboy Freedom
Chapter 30
Rock
I wrapped my hands around the back of Sky’s head. Pet his hair. Despite how careful I was, Sky gave a hiss when I pulled out.
“Okay?” I asked. “You’re all flushed. Did I hurt you?”
“Shut up.” The look he shot me before he rolled off was affectionate.
He grabbed one of the blankets to wipe himself.
“Here.” I pulled a pack of wipes from my backpack.
“Thanks.” He took the wipes and used them to clean us both.
I stretched out naked, loose, and satisfied.
I am a fucked-out lion basking in the summer sunshine.
“Hungry?” I yawned so big my jaw cracked. “I’ve got jerky. Which do you want, beef or salmon?”
Sky made a face. “Hard to choose between those fine breakfast offerings.”
“You don’t want my redneck surf and turf?” Shaking my head, I offered him a Subway bag. “You’re too easy.”
“That’s not what you said ten minutes ago.” He took the bag.
“Was that only ten minutes? Maybe you are too easy. I got you turkey with avocado and bacon.”
“Wait. No beef jerky?”
“I got some of that too, sweet and hot”—I winked—“just like you. But I was only kidding about the salmon jerky. Elena gets it sometimes. Maisy loves it but it has too much salt and sugar. I get her freeze-dried salmon sometimes.”
“Yum.” He wrinkled his nose. “How do you resist eating it all yourself?”
“It’s disgusting, that’s how.” I reached for the cooler and came back with two cans of Coke and Maisy’s water bottle and bowl.
Giving the dog water was a move that displayed my flexed shoulders, which I knew for a fact were awesome. A peek at Sky told me I was fooling no one.
“Are you posing?” His eyes couldn’t have gotten wider.
I picked up my own sandwich. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about this—” He mimicked my move, adding a weird face I have never made in my life.
I slapped my hand over my heart. “Oh my God, it’s—Blue Steel.”
He studied his Coke can. “You know you don’t gotta do shit like that, right? Just be Rock. I see you.”
“My shouldersareawesome, though.”
“Yeah they are.” He pulled me over for Coke-flavored kisses and I started writing a song about us in my head. We kissed—from sweet, barely there touches to deep, almost exhausting penetration by tongue and teeth and who wouldn’t love a song about that?
Expression serious, he let me go.
“I’m a done deal. You don’t gotta do anything to get me, Rock. I’m serious.”
I was serious too. Very serious.
