Page 29 of Owned By The Cowboy
His words hit me like a slap. And I have to rest a hand on my chest before I can breathe out a pathetic, “Why?”
“We already had this conversation, Reggie. You just got divorced and moved back here. You have children and a business to worry about. The last thing you need is a man like me complicating your life.”
“Don’t I get a say in what I need?” I ask softly. All the fight has left me.
“Reggie…” Blayne answers just as gently.
And it’s his soothing tone that gets me. My irritation flares back up. “I’m serious. Don’t I get to decide for myself?”
He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the war playing out on his face. Want, need, hunger, responsibility, sense of duty. Desire battling what he believes is right.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says finally, shaking his head.
“Then tell me. Explain it to me.” I take a step closer, raising my hands in emphasis.
“You wanna know what I think about when I look at you, sweetheart?” His voice is rougher, more intense, the blue flames in his eyes blazing. “I think about getting you fucking naked, Reggie. About getting my mouth on every fucking inch of your skin until you forget your own fucking name. And making you come so hard you can’t fucking walk for days. That’s what the fuck I think about, baby.”
He’s breathing hard, towering over me, his massive chest heaving, eyes wild. His scent, the heat from his body, his very presence making heat flood through me. And his words… God, his words… But this is what I came here for, right? Honesty, the truth about what’s happening between us.
I take a fortifying breath and advance even closer, asking, “And?”
That takes him aback. His frown disappears, his eyes widen, his lips open in silence. “Reggie, that’s not what you need right now.”
“Oh, so you know what I need?” I sass him, putting a hand on my hip, my eyebrows raised.
“I know you, sweetheart. You’re not the kind of woman who just goes to bed with a guy.”
Fuck his sweet voice and slut-shaming!
“Maybe I wanna be!”
Blayne lets out a surprised laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t want what I’m offering.”
“What exactly are you offering, Blayne Madison?”
The question hangs between us, and I watch him struggle with whether or not to answer it.
“Nothing good,” he finally grumbles. “Nothing that’ll end well for either of us.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
I close the distance between us, and this time he doesn’t back away. We’re standing close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his bronzed skin, close enough to see the pulse beating at the base of his perfect fucking throat.
“I want you,” I state simply. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I realized, and I’m tired of ignoring that. So if you want me too, stop trying to decide for me, cowboy.”
Blayne’s control finally snaps. And I can see the exact moment it happens: his square, scruffy jaw clenches, his big hands fist at his sides, and something dark and hungry takes over his expression.
“You wanna know what I’m thinking, sweet pea?” he asks in a rough voice. “I’m thinking about backing you up against that wall.” He points one thick finger behind me. “And showing you exactly what you do to me. I’m thinking about getting my filthy cowboy hands on your fucking perfect body and not stopping until you’re begging.”
My nipples are hard diamond points, my pussy pulsing, my clit on fire, my heart beating erratically, my legs barely holding me up, but I find it in me to raise my chin, hold his gaze and say, “So do it.”
Blayne growls, “Reggie.”
“Not fucking asking you to marry me, handsome. What I want is for you to fucking touch me. To make me feel something other than tired, scared and alone.”
My voice breaks a little on the last word, and that does it. Whatever last thread of restraint Blayne was holding on to shatters completely.
“Fuck it,” he growls, then his hands are on me, hauling me up against the wall like he said he would.
