Page 42 of Heartless
“Truth.” A muscle in his jaw twitches.
“Wimp.” He doesn’t even react to my jibe. “If you’re really good at rodeo stuff, why wouldn’t you go do those events while I’m here to help you?”
The weight of his gaze has my entire body humming. The intensity in his eyes. I feel like he’s trying to light me on fire with his glare alone.
I lean back on my hands, waiting for him to answer.
But instead, he claims his prize. His eyes rake over my body, and Ifeelit, like the tip of something cool and pointed. There’s no distaste on his face this time. It’s pure want. And that’s a look I can recognize.
My core throbs and I feel too hot, even with the cool night air hugging my skin.
I sit, watching him. Watching his expression. Watching him devour me with his eyes.
I do the same. Unable to tear my attention from the beautiful, intense man before me. The way the skin on his throat throbs over his pulse point. The subtle shake of his head as his tongue presses into the side of his cheek.
“Because it’s frivolous. I have responsibilities that I can’t overlook.” He’s talking to me, but he’s staring at my breasts.
“We all need to do something frivolous sometimes. Even you.” I absently wonder if we’re talking about rodeos at all right now.
“Careful, Willa. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His jaw pops as he glances up at me.
I reach out to him, pulsing my fingers, silently asking for what’s left of the drink in his hand. Needing a little liquid courage of my own. He moves forward, handing it over and hovering before me. Indecision tracing his every feature.
“You’re a giver, Cade.” I take a sip before I stare down at him and delicately wipe my lips. “What if you took something for yourself for once?”
“I can’t,” his voice cracks as he looks at me imploringly.
“You should let me help you. You deserve to enjoy yourself too.”
Now Iknowwe aren’t just talking about the rodeos. We’re toeing a line. A line between employee and employer. A line between an older man and a younger woman. A line that may well differentiate appropriate from inappropriate.
“No.” He grabs the glass and pushes himself across to the opposite side of the square, leaning back to feast on my body. I chance a look down at myself now, seeing the outline of my nipples battling against the fabric and the thin nylon at the bottom of my swimsuit lewdly wedged between my pussy lips.
Something that hasn’t escaped his attention based on the way his eyes snag there before slipping back up to the dark sky above us.
A little part of me wants to hide in the water, but the bigger part of me gets off on sitting here on display for him. Knowing he likes what he sees but won’t let himself touch. Knowing hewantedto see it.
Knowing his cock has got to be rock-hard under the water.
“Truth or dare,” he bites out.
“Truth,” I reply, not sure I can handle another dare or where it might take us.
His brows furrow and his eyes narrow on mine. “What are you thinking right now?”
“That I like sitting here with your eyes on me.”
“Fuck,” he groans, running a wet hand over his face and through his dark hair before tossing his head back and polishing off the dregs of the bourbon.
“What are you thinking?” I push. Wanting to know. Wanting to hear him say he likes what he sees.
“I didn’t pick truth, Willa.”
I bite my lip, regarding him. Wondering if I’m going way too far right now and wondering if it matters. Watching him struggle to hold himself back, watching him put himself through hell to keep things appropriate.
“Truth or dare?” My voice is full of undisguised desire. I’ve used this voice before to get what I want. It’s worked for me with other men. But never has it resulted in the expression of distressed pleading on Cade’s face when he glances up at me and says, “Dare.”
His expression doesn’t say crawl onto my lap and ride me. It sayshelp me.
