Still Standing (Wild West MC 1) - Page 10

“So he ruined you for other men,” Buck deduced, and if I wasn’t so drunk, I would have noticed his tone was teasing, but I was drunk.

So drunk.

“Totally, and not because of the bed business,” I answered in all seriousness. “Never going to go there again. No more men, ever.”

I felt something funny and it was so funny my drunken focus became a far more focused focus and I saw Buck was again staring at me with a expression on his face I couldn’t decipher, but it made tingles slide across my skin.

“No more men, ever?” he asked quietly.

“Ever,” I answered firmly, then turned my head and sucked back more beer.

“Baby, that’s a waste,” I heard Buck say.

I dropped my beer hand and looked at him.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Because, Clara, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he answered, and I felt my eyes get big at the same time I felt my mouth drop open. “Great ass, babe, fuckin’ unbelievable legs, fantastic tits, beautiful hair, gorgeous eyes, and shit, darlin’, when you smile, fuck, your smile goes right to a man’s dick.”

I blinked again then I whispered, “I’m not gorgeous.”

His hand slid around my thighs making his arm curl around both and he leaned into me to reply, “Don’t know what you see in the mirror and it also doesn’t matter. I feel your smile in my dick means I got a dick which means I’m a man and I’m tellin’ you, Toots, top-to-toe, you’re gorgeous. You weren’t, babe, your ass woulda been thrown outta this building two seconds after you entered it. Since you are, you’re drunk, and in about five minutes, you’re gonna be in my room and I’m gonna convince you to forget about your vow of no men, ever.”

Oh wow.

“You are?” I whispered.

“Damn straight,” he answered.

“Oh my.” I was still whispering.

“You want, you can bring the bottle with you.” He tipped his head to the bottle of tequila still sitting on the pool table and kept talking. “But the only thing I’m gonna be tasting for the rest of the night is you.”

Oh.

Wow.

“Oh my,” I repeated on a breath.

“You want the bottle?” he asked.

“Buck—”

“Answer me, babe.”

“No, but—”

I didn’t finish.

He stood, yanked my beer out of my hand and set it aside with his. He grabbed my hand, pulled me off the couch and dragged me through the room to a doorway on the side wall by the bar. Through that doorway, he turned us left, we went down a short hall, then left again, and we went down a long hall where he opened the door to the second to the last room.

There, he pulled me in.

He closed the door.

I stared at the unmade, queen-sized bed.

Oh dear.

I turned to Buck.

“Um…”

I stopped speaking (not that I knew what to say) when he advanced.

I was drunk but not drunk enough to retreat toward the bed.

Instead, I shifted and moved away from it.

Buck shifted too and kept advancing.

“Um…Buck?” I called as I kept moving backward.

“Yeah, babe,” he answered as he kept moving forward.

I hit wall and was forced to stop.

Buck’s body hit mine and simply stopped.

I tipped my head back, feeling my scalp scrape the wall as I did so, and I stated, “I’m pretty…um, dedicated to that vow.”

Buck spanned my hips with his hands and pulled them into his. He dropped his head so his lips were not even an inch away, but his eyes kept hold of mine.

It was then, I smelled him.

He did not smell of cologne.

He smelled of Buck Hardy.

Dark and decadent.

Um.

I was in trouble.

“Like I said, baby, you gotta live more,” he whispered.

“But—” I started.

His head slanted, and he kissed me.

His beard felt scratchy. It also felt sexy because it came with his lips and his tongue.

And he tasted great, like beer, tequila and man.

Oh God.

My hands lifted, my fingers curled around his neck, and when his lips released mine and slid down my jaw to my ear, I felt it starting.

I had a strong libido, according to Rogan.

Rogan had loved that about me.

I thought it was Rogan.

Apparently, it was me.

Or, in this case, perhaps tequila, beer and all things Buck.

Specifically, the fact he smelled good, tasted good and was a really great kisser.

“Buck,” I whispered, and he moved his hands from my hips to glide in and cup both cheeks of my behind.

Oh God.

“Buck,” I repeated on a breath.

“Fuck, baby, you got a great ass,” he muttered against the skin under my ear.

Oh…God.

“Buck,” I said again, so low, even I could hardly hear it.

He lifted his head, but he also pressed his hips against mine. There was something lovely and hard there, and I felt my knees buckle so my fingers dug into his neck.

“I’m right here, Toots,” he replied, slanted his head again and kissed me.

He was.

He was right there.

And I was right there.

And he tasted great and he felt great and his hands at my bottom felt even better and his tongue in my mouth felt the best.

Tags: Kristen Ashley Wild West MC Romance
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