Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

“Well, I don’t think you should feel too bad or embarrassed about it anyway,” she eventually said. “All you’ve been doing lately is working. That’s not good for anyone. It’s a surprise the

accident didn’t happen sooner.”

Chase gave her the soft smile she deserved. Harper’s defending him had become a staple of his interactions with her. He liked how she talked like she knew him inside and out, seeing the good in him.

“Sorry,” she said, pained. “I suspect this is going to suck.”

And suck it did.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to flinch while she squeezed the wound tighter together. Carefully but with focus, she applied the wound closure strips to the laceration until she sealed the wound tight.

Her worried eyes met his. “Better now?”

“Much. Thank you.” He rose.

Her fingers snagged his wrist. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

The silkiness in her voice brought his attention back to her. The heated look in her eyes returned him to his seat, his muscles quivering. He stared at her hand on his arm. For the nine months since she’d been home from Denver, he’d been managing his desire for her privately and efficiently. He focused on that potent touch now, knowing he’d never tell her to let him go. Sensing the raw heat burning between them, he lifted his gaze to hers, discovering her firm eye contact, her chest rising and falling quickly with her heavy breaths. He flooded with warmth, fighting against his desire to erase the distance between his mouth and hers.

She visibly swallowed, her hand trembling when she took the sterilized wipe from the first aid kid and cleaned all the blood from around the wound, her fingers trailing over his. This time, the pain didn’t even register. With every swipe of her finger across his, his cock twitched, making him entirely aware of her. Her fruity aroma filled his senses, and the world around him faded away as he became aware of only her.

The slight curve of her cheekbone. The way her mouth was parted, drawing in the warm air. Her tongue flicking out, wetting her lips, preparing them for when he pressed his mouth against hers. The long sexy line of her neck, the pulse hammering at her flesh. The soft lines of her shoulders and the roundness of her breasts.

“Chase,” she rasped.

He brought his attention back to her heated eyes, the softness there begging him to make his move. She froze, motionless in her need. That was when he realized that he’d closed his hand over hers, holding her fingers in his. Pulled by something he could not control, he sensed his body leaning toward hers, and hers moving closer to his.

“Chase.”

This time his name was said with a harshness that hadn’t been there when Harper had whispered his name. He inhaled sharply and glanced sideways at Brody, his best friend since kindergarten. Brody’s wild dark hazel eyes were locked onto Chase’s hand wrapped around Harper’s, a vein protruding from the center of his forehead.

Slowly, dangerously, Brody’s narrowed eyes lifted. “Get your hands off my sister.”