Page 19 of Made for You
“I recognizedyourname the moment you said it. I’m sure you’re aware your family’s reputation precedes you. Before I even got here, my team had given me a heads-up about a local family spearheading efforts to keep luxury developers at bay.That line about cosplayers versus real cowboys when we first met? I stole it from you.”
“So you knew exactly who I was, but you let me think you were some …” He exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You know what? I won’t pretend I had any fucking clue who you were, just that you stuck out like a fish out of water.” His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the anger simmering beneath. “You played me.”
“I didn’t play you,” I shot back, my fingers pressing into the wall behind me. “I just …” My gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before I forced myself to meet his eyes again. “I knew if you found out who my family was—what we’re building here—you’d hate me before you even got to know me.”
“Except you won’tletme get to know you.” He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne—something expensive and woodsy, so different from the scent of leather and hay I remembered from our night together. When he braced his hands against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in, my breath caught.
“You let me know your body, sure,” he continued, his words low and deliberately provocative. “Let me learn how to make you scream my name.” He leaned even closer with each sinful item he ticked off, until his breath ghosted over my lips. “How to make you soak those thousand-thread-count sheets of yours.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as he hovered there, close enough to kiss, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. Then, just as I found myself swaying toward him, he pulled back abruptly.
“But actually know you?” His amber eyes searched mine from an arm’s length away, the sudden distance feeling like a chasm I wasn’t brave enough to cross. “That was never really an option, was it?”
He’s doing it on purpose, I realized with a sharp intake of breath.Showing me precisely what it feels like to be drawn in and then shut out.
The recognition stung almost as much as his withdrawal.
I pushed off the wall and stepped forward, closing the distance he’d created. Now I was the one invading his space, looking up at him with challenge in my eyes. “Fine. You want honesty? Let’s be honest, Gage.” My voice was steady despite my racing heart as I poked him in the chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his dress shirt. “If you’d known who I was that night—if I’d walked into that bar as Siena Bellrose, the woman building a luxury resort in your precious valley—would you have approached me? Bought me a drink? Followed me home?”
I punctuated each question with a slight push against his chest, backing him up slightly as I advanced. “Would you have done all those things to me you just described?”
By now, we were standing toe to toe, my hand splayed against his chest, his amber eyes dark and unreadable as he stared down at me. Desire pooled low in my belly despite my anger—or maybe because of it—and I could feel the dampness gathering between my thighs. “Or would you have written me off as another spoiled rich girl intent on ruining your community before I even opened my mouth?”
His eyes dropped to the mouth in question. His jaw clenched as he stared down at me for a long moment.
I expected him to defend himself, to argue back, not for him to growl, “Goddamn you, woman,” as his strong, calloused hands tunneled through my hair, tugging just enough to make my breath catch as he tilted my head back and crashed his mouth onto mine.
The kiss was fierce and unrestrained, tasting of red wine and desire sharpened into frustration. His lips were warm andunyielding—demanding—moving against mine with a hunger that mirrored my own and left me trembling.
That heady cedar and smoke scent of his closed in around me, dragging me straight back to the night I swore I wouldn’t think about again. His chest pressed hard into mine, muscle beneath crisp cotton, the warmth of his skin searing my hand through the fabric. When he groaned again, the rumble vibrated through me, low and primal.
I fisted his shirt, the ache inside me building, and kissed him back with every ounce of the frantic desperation I’d been trying for weeks to deny.
He tore his mouth from mine, leaving me gasping, and in the next breath, he crowded me back into the wall I’d only just pushed away from. My shoulders hit the paneled surface as he pinned me in place, his hips pressing forward until the hard, insistent length of him ground against me, the silk of my panties feeling strangely rough against my swollen flesh. The friction made my breath stutter, my desire ratcheting up a notch.
His lips found my jaw, rough kisses dragging fire along my skin before trailing down my neck. Each press of his mouth was punctuated by words that seared into me.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he rasped against my throat, his teeth grazing just enough to make me shiver.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Another kiss, harder, lower, right where my pulse thundered. “You scare the hell out of me, Siena. I swear I’ve never felt like this about anyone."
I clutched at his shoulders, my fingers digging into the muscle there as his hips rolled again, grinding harder, his need blatant, undeniable. My body arched helplessly into his, answering the demand in his.
“I don’t care who you are, Siena Bellrose,” he growled, his mouth hot against the sensitive curve of my neck. “As long as you let me fuck that beautiful cunt of yours again.”
The crudeness of his words should have made me recoil, but it only made me ache harder. My thighs clenched, dampness gathering as the hunger in his voice and the raw truth of his body against mine stripped me of every last pretense.
“Yes,” I cried, my throat constricting with how badly I wanted it.
Wantedhim.
This wasn’t just about physical release either. I wanted this man to claim me, to make me his in every way that mattered.
“Please, Gage. Make me forget who we both are.” I reached out, my fingers fumbling with the cool metal of his belt buckle, urgency thrumming through me, when his much larger hand settled firmly over mine.
“Honey, no.” His voice was rough, ragged with need, but steady. “Not here.”
I froze, breath sawing in and out of my chest as reality came crashing back in. The dim hallway. The muted hum of conversation and clink of silverware filtered in from the dining room. My father. His brother. Senator Rafferty.
