Page 35 of Make Me Love You

Eli couldn’t speak. The wind had been knocked out of him. A triumphant baaaaa from Goat echoed through the darkness, followed by the rapid retreat of hoofbeats.

Emma lifted her head. “Eli?” she asked, her voice shrill. “Are you alive?”

“Garghhhhh,” he grunted.

“Oh, thank God.”

The relief in her voice made him stupid. Made him think that maybe it wasn’t so bad, being knocked flat on his ass by a psychotic goat.

“What was that?” she asked again.

He struggled to get his breath before answering. “That,” he panted, “was Goat. As in, Goat’s Tavern. Luke found him when he was nothing but a baby, had to bottle feed him and everything. No idea where he came from. Has a nasty habit of knocking people behind the knee. Thinks it’s hilarious when they fall.”

“He won’t think it’s so hilarious when I turn him into gloves,” Emma said darkly.

“Luke loves him, for reasons that have yet to be determined.”

“Oh.” She was quiet, considering. “Maybe I’ll let him live. This time.”

Damn, she smelled good. He took a discreet sniff of her hair. The burrito smell wasn’t quite as strong as it usually was, though. Pine trees, soap, and a little bit of paint. He shifted onto his back, still holding her close, and she fell against his chest, her leg sandwiched between his. She wiggled, trying to get off him, he assumed, but all she managed to do was rub against his dick in a way that was more likely to get him off.

“Don’t move,” he said through gritted teeth.

She froze. “Did I hurt you?”

His eyes narrowed at her tone, which was far too sweet and innocent to be real. “You did that on purpose.”

“What? What did I do? Do you mean this?” She slid her thigh slowly along the increasingly hard ridge in his jeans. “Is that what you mean?”

He hissed a warning through his teeth.

She did it again.

He rolled, pinning her flat on her back beneath him. He held both her wrists above her head with one hand and leaned in close, until their lips were only an inch apart. So tempting. God, he wanted to kiss her. Wanted to close that miniscule distance and give relief to all these inconvenient feelings.

But he couldn’t. It had to be her.

“This, Ms. Andrews. This is why I don’t want Luke touching you. Yeah, I know I don’t have any right to make claims on you, but I’m going to do it anyway.” He paused, taking in the sudden flare of heat in her eyes. “And you like it. You like that I’m claiming you.”

“I don’t.”

He laughed. “Liar.”

For a moment they both stopped breathing, both of them frozen. Then she let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

It was all he could do to stop himself from taking her mouth. But he had promised.

“Well?” he said roughly. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He heard her swallow hard, felt her breasts pitch against him in a sharp inhalation. They were so close he couldn’t tell his heartbeat from hers.

She shook her head.

He had expected that, but still the disappointment was nearly unbearable. Her gaze fell to his lips, and she wet her own with the tip of her tongue, and that eased the sting somewhat. She wanted him. She just didn’t want the responsibility of wanting him. How it was she so readily accepted the care and keeping of everyone around her, but was such a rank coward when it came to caring for her own needs?

That was a conversation for another day. Right now, he needed to get out of there before he broke his promise to her, and to himself.

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