Page 166 of Sassy Love
“And mine to protect,” he rasps as his hands curl, his thumb brushing over the smooth, hard surface. “My part, the permanent, unmoving. The way it will not yield. Always standing true for yours.”
Tears burn behind my eyes.
His hand falls away and he cups my jaw, tilting my head up. “Now tell me, Carlie. What do you want?”
A smile grows over my face. “I’d rather show you than tell you, Cowboy.”
I push up on my tiptoes and brush my lips over his. “I want this.” I kiss his jaw. “And this.”
Dotting kisses down his neck and over his Adam’s apple, I breathe, “And definitely this...”
It bobs as he chuckles. Leaning to one side, he places the heart on the desk.
“My turn.”
“It is?” I raise a brow.
“Abso-fuckin-lutely, Princess.”
He hauls me to his hips and walks from the fish tank.
“Where are we going?”
“The best make-out spot in this place.”
We round the supply room to the copier, and I laugh so hearty my head falls back.
“I could fucking eat you, baby,” he growls. “Look at you, happy and—Christ—damn edible in these sweatpants.”
“This does it for you? Not my expensive designer skirts and heels?”
“That works, too. Maybe it’s not the clothes at all.” The ridiculous grin on his face has a smile growing on my own. But it falters as his head dips and his mouth finds my peaks through the lopsided T-shirt I have on.
My hair is up in a bun, and I slip a finger into the band, releasing it. Strawberry blonde waves tumble over my shoulder,and he groans. The sound vibrates around my nipple and all of a sudden, I’m at a loss for air.
“Goddamn, Carlie.”
My ass meets the copier, and I spread my legs, making space for him to get as close as possible. My hands in his hair, I can’t breathe when he slips my T-shirt from my body, his fingers releasing the clasp on my bra, his lips falling back to my aching nipple...
“Oh god.”
“Baby, he ain’t here. Just your cowboy.”
A strangled, desperate chuckle slips through my parted lips.
My cowboy.
Mine.
A fire is lit, well and truly, low in my core. Now the last thing I want is to be wearing clothes. For him to be wearing clothes. I wriggle on the machine, and the plastic creaks.
“Patience, Princess.”
“No.”
“No?” His head pops up. “Sassy little woman, aren’t you.”
“It’s one of my best qualities.”
