Page 65 of Wyoming Cowboy Undercover

Good question.

He locked an arm around her waist, bringing her flush against him. Their heated bodies pressed together, skin to skin. His other hand he buried in the silky softness of her hair as he captured her mouth. All his thoughts about tomorrow dissipated in the kiss.

Rocking her hips, rubbing her core on the ridge of his erection, she made a low, desperate sound that ignited his own need instantly, sending a tremor through his muscles. He sucked tenderly at her lower lip before stroking his tongue across it and delving back into her mouth.

She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from her hip, and shoved it exactly where she wanted him. Down between her legs, cupping her. He found slick, wet warmth.

They groaned at the same time, the intense heat between them building higher. She twined her fingers in his hair, a shudder rolling through her, thighs trembling as she rubbed against his fingers.

He was lost in the sensation of her. All liquid fire in his arms. Primal need. Taking what she wanted. And he intended to give her everything, showing her without words how much he desired her. Cared for her. He wanted to make love to her until she was breathless and ready to come out of her skin. Make her burn the way he did for her.

“The cabin is small, and the walls are thin,” he said low. “Sound will carry.”

“We’ve got to sell our story. Engaged and hot for each other. Let’s give them something worth hearing.”

Happy to oblige, he flipped their bodies, putting her beneath him, and kissed her chin. Licked her throat while his hands moved over hot skin that was smooth as silk. He took his time with every warm, slow caress, refusing to be rushed. Delighting in the soft whimpering sounds she made. Enjoying her breasts one after the other until she was pleading and squirming, parting her thighs wide for him. He moved southward, kissing his way down between her legs. Glancing up at her, the molten heat in her eyes made him smile. Then he dipped his head—her fingers curling in his hair, her hand guiding his mouth to that sweet spot—and he settled his tongue on the sensitive bundle of nerves that drove her wild. She screamed his name, splintering to pieces, her cry like the crack of a whip to the desire lashing him.

He was ready to burst, but he held tight to his control since he was just getting started.

THENEXTDAY, an unseasonably warm spell had hiked the temperature ten degrees higher. Mercy didn’t need a sweater, but she wore one anyway, as part of the plan.

Rocco needed her to get his phone from the Faraday pouch without Sue Ellen noticing. Mercy looked out the window of the kitchen.

The men were huddled up outside around a table busy making Molotov cocktails.

Apparently, the RPGs were worth too much to waste in an attack on the Feds. Gasoline, bottles, fuses and bullets were cheap.

She finished washing and drying the breakfast dishes. Taking off the apron, she turned around and looked at Sue Ellen, who was wrapping up food for the men to take with them.

“I have a headache,” Mercy said. “It came out of nowhere.”

“Probably from a lack of sleep.” Sue Ellen flashed a wry grin. “You’ve got yourself quite a stud there. Mac and I had to take a long walk to cool off.”

Her face heated. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. You’re young and in love. Only natural.”

Was it love?

Rocco made her feel safe. Adored. Like she could tell him anything and he’d understand. But she wasn’t ready to trust her feelings or those he claimed to have for her. Not yet.

“Do you have anything for the headache?”

“Get that jar.” Sue Ellen pointed to the shelf lined with mason jars. “The willow bark. Put two tablespoons in a cup of hot water. Let it steep. Sip it slowly. By the time you’re done drinking it, the headache should be gone.”

Mercy went to the shelf and took the jar down. Sue Ellen’s gaze was fastened to her. Heading over to the pots and pans, Mercy waited for the older woman’s attention to shift. The second it did, she let the jar slip from her hand, shattering on the floor.

“Oh, no.” Mercy stared at the mess. “I’m so clumsy and with this headache pounding—”

“It’s all right.” Sighing, Sue Ellen stood. “Clean it up and then take these sacks of food out to the trucks that they’re going to use. I’ll run over to Barb’s cabin. See if she has any.”

“Thank you.” Mercy grabbed the broom and dustpan. “Sorry about the hassle.”

Sue Ellen trudged outside, and Mercy quickly swept up the debris, tossing it in the trash bin.

She looked out the window. The woman marched passed the group of men without a glance behind her. Cormac was completely engaged, chatting and laughing with Rocco.

Mercy made a beeline to the Faraday pouch. Velcro buzzed as she opened the bag. She took out the phone and shoved it into the pocket of her sweater. Quickly, she closed it and returned the pouch to the hook the same way she’d found it.

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