I blink, trying to clear my head, looking for Scott. He’s the last one—the one who doesn’t want this, who doesn’t see things the same as his brothers. Half of me is expecting him to be gone. He could easily have walked away, shut himself in his room, objected to this strange dance that we’re all doing, but he hasn’t. He’s there, leaning against the counter with eyes as dark as the center of hell itself and the hungriest expression I’ve ever seen on a man. If Scott was a character in a fairy tale, he’d be the big bad wolf just waiting to devour Little Red Riding Hood, except he wouldn’t gobble her up. He’d lift her skirts and spread her legs, tugging her panties roughly aside so he could feast there uninterrupted.
Scott might not trust me. He might not want to give this crazy lifestyle a try, but he does want me.
Of that, I am absolutely certain.
And I want him. This man who’s filled with anger and resentment, who pushes away more easily than he pulls close.
Will he ask me like his brothers?
Or will he take what is being offered?
Am I crazy for wanting the latter?
Probably, but I’m in seriously uncharted territory here, and Scott knows it. I mean, they all know it, but not quite like Scott.
His brothers all turn to him, waiting. They know this all hinges on what happens next because us being together is supposed to be about unity, not creating fractures in their brotherhood.
My chest heaves with breathless anticipation, and Cash holds me tighter as the anticipation builds. And still, Scott doesn’t move.
More seconds tick past. My heart thuds like a stampede in my ears, and I know. I really know that he won’t do it. He won’t come to me and ask like his brothers did.
If I want him, I’ll have to go to him.
Squeezing Cash’s hands, I tug my fingers out of his grasp and stride across the kitchen with an absolute determination that this man is not going to look at me with eyes filled with challenge and find me lacking.
My lips slam into his, and he’s frozen with surprise, then his arms are around me, pulling me to him, gripping my hair and twisting my face so he can kiss me deep and then deeper, fierce with something that isn’t quite lust and isn’t quite hate but something in between.
It’s like he despises himself for wanting this…for needing more. Or despises himself for giving in. Who knows? What I do know is that I’m drowning in his kiss and reeling from how much I love the sting of his brutal fingers against my scalp.
Each of these men sets me alight for a different reason. They show me themselves, and I find similar pieces of me to reflect back.
And I know before anything else happens that I’m already lost.
I thought they were ruthless ranchers. I thought they stole my farm and my past.
But it turns out they’re trying to ruthlessly acquire my future too.
18
When Scott pulls back, his hand still in my hair, holding me at arm’s length, his eyes are tortured. There’s a delirious drunkenness there too, as though my kiss has bewitched him and he doesn’t know what to do. I would never have thought of myself as a woman with the potential to bewitch anyone, but to be honest, I’d never have thought of myself as a woman who would enjoy being passed around a room full of brothers.
And look at me now.
Flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, breathless with passion, yearning for more.
I’m a new Melanie. A different Melanie.
A Melanie whose roots were torn up and now feels like a balloon filled with helium, released to the wind.
“Are you okay, Melanie?” Cash asks from somewhere behind me. Scott releases my hair, and I turn to find the man who started all of this. His expression is worried, and it should be. He knows that all of this is new to me, and it feels like it’s moving quickly, spinning out from under my feet. Is this how the rodeo riders feel on the back of a bull intent on throwing them? There’s thrill, and there’s fear. There’s awe, and there’s alarm.
“She’s fine,” Colt says, but he’s not close enough to feel my racing heart or know about the sweat prickling under my arms. I’m so hot I feel like I could combust where I’m standing.
“She doesn’t look fine,” Cary says.
“Scott scared her,” Sawyer says.
“She kissed him,” Cash points out. “I think Melanie scared Scott.”
“I’m not scared of anything,” Scott growls.
“Neither am I,” I whisper.
“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Cash strides forward and rests his hands on my upper arms possessively. “We all need to get up early tomorrow.”
“NO!” The word leaves my lips more forcefully than I intend.