I’m making her mine.
ROSE
I’m crazy.
Or I’m weak.
Possibly both.
Because right now I’m ready to give Angel whatever he wants and you don’t ever give a man like him free rein. This could be what love feels like, I realize. Except that I know the emotions Angel stirs in me have much more to do with my pussy than with my heart. Angel’s a big, hard-ass cowboy, and teasing him, trying to control him is stupid.
He’s going to own me.
And I don’t care… Angel stares at me, eyes dark with the most delicious emotions, and he’s at least a little bit mine right now. He said so himself.
He danced with me in the rain.
“Let’s go back to the ranch,” I whisper and then I tug the door open and scramble inside. It’s not dignified, but I’m happy and laughing. Angel doesn’t smile enough. Sometimes I smile too much. Maybe that makes us good for each other? At the very least we balance each other out.
He goes around and climbs into the truck, turning the engine on and reaching for the heater switch. Warm air fills the cab and I shiver at the contrast.
“You should take that stuff off.” Angel indicates my clothes with a flick of his finger.
Uh-huh. Nice try. “You think riding back to the ranch naked is wise?”
His eyes darken. “I’d enjoy the hell out of it, darling, but I was offering a trade.”
He holds out his T-shirt and then fishes a wash-worn flannel out of the truck’s narrow back seat.
Okay then.
I strip off. Bad idea or not, I’m making Angel mine. I want it all: this life, these mountains, and this man. He watches me shimmy out of my wet clothes and I know he likes what he sees, but that’s the outside me. He doesn’t know what I’m like inside, doesn’t know the secrets I have. I curl up against Angel, soaking in his heat and strength.
He’s got secrets of his own, shadows he doesn’t tell anyone about. Based on what I saw at that cattle station, his water situation is dire. When people talk about how the weight of the world is on his shoulders? That’s the way Angel looked, staring at his pump and his empty trough. It’s more than his need to be in control of everyone and everything. He wants to keep everyone safe, but he’s only one man. I can’t witch water for him and my rain dancing won’t make the clouds open up. There’s nothing I can do but help him forget. Make him smile.
I keep my panties on, though, because I’m not sneaking into the ranch house commando.
He guides the truck back onto the road. “I’m just gonna take those back off you.”
“And I’m not going to mind.”
I’m not going to overthink this afternoon. I want Angel Mendoza to strip me down and screw me until all I can think about is him. He’ll make it good while it lasts because he doesn’t do anything halfway—and, if I’m his, he’ll take care of me.
Like he does his brothers, the ranch, and the goddamned waterless cattle. He watches out for everybody and everything, but I suspect there’s no one watching out for him. Nobody who’s seen him dancing in the rain, two-stepping with a girl he barely knows because she thinks it’s fun and he’ll give her whatever he can.
When he’s not busy being an asshole, he might actually be likeable.
“I don’t have much experience at relationships.” Honestly? I have none. Bubkis. I’m a relationship virgin. On the other hand? I know how to improvise.
I curl up with my head on his thigh, my fingers stroking the inside of his knee. If I turn just a little, my mouth will brush against the monster erection he’s sporting.
He drives faster. “Got it. Orgasms, not emotions.”
I didn’t realize he was taking orders. “Okay.”
It’s a deal. Never mind that I kind of want to protest, to ask for both. I’m also pretty certain we’re lying to each other. We’re in over our heads here and there are so many feelings filling up the truck’s cab that we’re choking on them.
ANGEL
“Last chance.” The pickup roars beneath the hand-lettered sign announcing Blackhawk Ranch. Usually, when I drive beneath that sign, I can’t stop the little flare of pride. No fucking reason to hold back or bottle up that particular feeling. My daddy did his best to run our place into the ground after our mama died, but I held on. My brothers and I made the sign ourselves, burning each letter into the wood, one by one. Would have branded each other too, but that wasn’t practical.
The sign means there’s half a mile left until I have Rose where I want her. Under me. In my bed. My dick tunneling deep into her pussy. When I turn and look her over, to see if I’ve scared her off or if she’s ready to run, she watches me back. She looks hungry.