Wild Cowboy Nights (Foolproof Love 1-3)

Quinn’s hands settled on her shoulders. “Breathe.” He reached past her and grabbed a pair of her favorite jeans and a black T-shirt that said Dear Nasa, your mom thought I was big enough. Love, Pluto. Then he guided her to her feet and practically shoved her into the bathroom. “Shower. You have ten minutes.”

That got her moving again. “Thanks.” She slammed the door in his face and rushed to shower and washed her hair. After she was dry and dressed, she pulled her still-wet hair up into a ponytail and threw on some shimmery black eyeliner and mascara. It wasn’t too crazy, but between that and the slicked back hair, it gave a certain don’t fuck with me vibe that she hoped would actually keep people away from her.

Aubry opened the door to find Quinn taking up the entire doorway. My vibe and the giant by my side. “Did I take too long?”

“That’s a trap question and I’m not about to answer it.” He nudged her into the bedroom and shut the door between them. A few seconds later the shower started.

She stared at the door, her fears taken a temporary backseat to the image of Quinn in the shower, the water coursing over his big body. His big cock. She shivered. They hadn’t actually had shower sex yesterday, but he’d more than proven he could toss her around like a sexy rag doll. It would be nothing for him to lift her and pin her against the tile wall and slam home. She’d be helpless to do anything but cling to him as he pounded them both to orgasm. Maybe…

“Peaches?”

She jumped. While she’d been fantasizing about him, he’d managed to shower and get dressed. He looked… He looked downright edible. Down, girl. She grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”

“Hold your horses.”

“I know you might have a hard time reading a clock with your cowboy education, but right now it says that we are in serious danger of being late and I can’t be late and walk in there and have everyone stare at me.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “That was mean. Actually, that was worse than mean. I don’t think you’re stupid. Aggravating as fuck, yes. Stupid, no.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done yet?”

She paused, considered, and then nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pointed at her feet. “You might want some shoes before you walk out the door.”

She looked down, cringing at the sight of her Marceline socks peeking out the hem of her jeans. “Shoes. Right.” Aubry yanked on her combat boots, the motions of lacing them up calming her down, just a little. “Have I mentioned how nervous I am?”

“You don’t have to, being as how I’m not an idiot.”

She winced. “Sorry about that.”

“No, you aren’t. And that’s okay.” He motioned between them. “This is what we are—we snap and snarl and insult each other. The fact that we also fuck like nobody’s business doesn’t change that.”

She didn’t see how it couldn’t change that, but if she tried to argue, they’d definitely be late. So Aubry pushed to her feet and kept her mouth shut on that subject. “You ready?”

“I was born ready.”

She snorted and headed for the door. “Yeah, yeah.”

It wasn’t until they hit the lobby—and the masses there—that she remembered she’d been anxious in the first place. Aubry rocked back on her heels, her breathing picking up, but Quinn was there, his hand on the small of her back, his voice in her ear. “It will be okay. Take my hand.”

She obeyed before she had a chance to decide if she wanted to hold his hand. He moved in front of her, their connection a tether he used to tow her through the crowd. As he promised, people got the hell out of his way, leaving a nice little path for her to walk in. She tried not to notice that, though. Instead, Aubry focused on the spot between his shoulder blades. His back was broad enough that she couldn’t see past it without trying, and she had absolutely no interest in trying.

It occurred to her that Quinn might not know where they were going, but she would have to yell at him or pull him to a stop to ask, and right now the only way she was getting through this was to keep moving. The room changed, the walls much closer together, but there were just as many people. They pressed in on all sides, just beyond the barrier of Quinn’s shoulders, and she huddled closer to him, until she was almost stepping on the back of his heels.

He walked into a room and instantly the noise level halved. She waited one breath, two, three, and finally gathered the courage to look around. The space was dominated by six big-screen televisions, each with a pair of chairs in front of it. There were probably a dozen dudes there, and they all turned to look at her with interest, some of them more polite about it than others.