Hold Me Close (Bridgewater County 4)

“I, um—I, uh…..” I took a deep breath and tried again.

“This isn’t a place for someone like you,” he advised, checking out every inch of me.

Why wasn’t this a place for me? I was just introducing myself. A woman in a pair of very short Daisy Duke’s and cowboy boots caught my eye. Oh.

“No, it’s not that. I like watching—”

“You do, do you?” His voice was low, suggestive. My cheeks could not possibly get any hotter without bursting into flames. His tone said that he knew my every, intimate, dirty thought…and he liked it.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the rockets of desire that his husky, knowing voice was setting off. “I wanted to tell you—”

His hand on my waist silenced me instantly. The words I’m your new office manager remained unspoken as I froze at the unexpected contact. He was being really forward and huh, it felt good.

“What did you want to tell me?” he asked. He was a good foot taller than me but he leaned in so close we were practically eye level. His eyes were so gray, but I figured they’d probably change color depending on what he wore. “More importantly, what do you like to watch?”

Watch? I just wanted to introduce myself. My mouth was open because I’d never had a guy talk to me so blatantly before, every word coated with innuendo. My brain had stopped working. His stormy eyes held me transfixed.

“Did you like watching me ride?” His fingers squeezed gently, just enough that I could feel them through the thin cotton of my top.

“Um…” Yes! Holy hell, the answer was yes. I’d loved watching him ride. But his gruff, suggestive tone made it clear we were talking about more than just the rodeo. As if to make that point clear, he continued on. “Did you like watching me control that bull?” His hand moved up. “Is that what you want? To be tamed?”

What? No. But even as I thought it, my brain went somewhere dirty and dark. A vivid image filled my brain. This cowboy naked over me, gripping my waist and riding me hard. Taming me.

He leaned in close, whispered in my ear. I felt his breath fan the nape of my neck. “I bet that’s what you like in bed, am I right?” His free hand grasped my wrist lightly, his calloused fingers softly stroking the sensitive skin there.

I gave a sharp inhale and my eyes widened to the point that they hurt. Partly at the crudeness of his words, but partially because I suspected he knew exactly where my mind had gone and I was horrified. I was getting turned on by the dirty talk of a stranger. He was gorgeous, but he was a stranger. No, he wasn’t a stranger. He was my soon-to-be boss.

“Do you like to be tied up, darlin’?” He gave me a small smile that was filled with promise. “I bet you’re a sweet submissive.” He leaned in even closer so no one could hear us, creating the illusion that we were alone together even though there were people milling about. A voice over the loud speaker announced another rider. A muffled cheer went up. “What do you say, sweetheart? Do you want me to take you over my lap for a spanking?”

My brain conjured that image so clearly I let out a little squeak of alarm. But then alarm was followed by a rush of lust that had me wobbly on my feet. He was watching me, waiting for an answer. “No, I don’t—” I stopped myself that time. Bit my lip. What was I going to say? I don’t even like to be touched. I’m a frigid virgin, but thanks for asking.

He smirked at my silence. “Want to know what I’d do with a buckle bunny like you?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t a damn buckle bunny. I was a frigid virgin. Yet I wanted to hear his answer even though I knew by the way his eyes darkened and his voice lowered to an intimate whisper that what he’d say would be crass and dirty. But I wanted to know what he’d do to one of the willing women just waiting to pounce. What he’d do with one of them, but not me.

His gaze dropped to my breasts, which were well-concealed beneath the modest top. Could he see my nipples were hard? “First thing I’d do is unbutton that damn shirt so I could see those pretty tits of yours. Then I’d take a nipple in my mouth and suck on it until you begged me for more. I bet they’re a pretty pink.”

My gasp was soundless but his grin grew at my shocked reaction. I should have told him to stop talking. I should have walked away. I should have done anything but continue to stand there and stare at him, encouraging him with my passive silence.

But I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. My legs had frozen in place as hot desire coursed through me at his dirty words. I could see it clearly. Him shoving my bra aside and those firm lips of his moving over my breasts. Working one nipple, then the other, leaving a hint of whisker burn behind.

He was watching me closely, his gaze filled with a knowing condescension that I hated, even though it turned me on. He leaned in again and I found myself holding my breath, waiting to hear what he’d say next.

“You’re wet for me, aren’t you, darlin’?” His voice was a low drawl and it made me shiver. “Do you want to know what I’d do next?”

No. Yes. Oh my god, I wanted his hand to move from my waist. I wanted him to tug me into him so my breasts pressed against his chest. Maybe then it would ease the ache. I wanted him to touch me. I needed to be touched or I’d go crazy.

“Once you were so turned on you were begging me for it, I’d take you back there behind that last stall.” He angled his head down the long center aisle. His hand tightened on my waist again and I bit my lip to hold back a moan. “I’d press you up against the wall, pull down those jeans of yours and prove I was right, that you’re dripping for me. Ready to go for a wild ride of your own on my hard cock. I promise I’ll last more than eight seconds.”

I let out a little sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a cry. Oh hell, my panties were wet. The image made me ache so badly I had to squeeze my thighs together, but that only made it worse.

“Is that what you want?” He backed away a bit and dropped his hand. The loss of that touch made me want to reach out to him but I held myself in check. The cozy, dangerous, naughty atmosphere between us had shifted into something else. There was more mockery than passion in his tone. His knowing smile held more amusement than smoldering desire. “Do you really want to be fucked against a horse stall when a bunch of dirty cowboys and their ladies could walk by?”

The sudden coldness in his voice was like a bucket of ice water in my face. I blinked furiously as my body came back from the brink and my mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. What he’d said. I took a wobbly step back, crossed my arms over my chest.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He shook his head, looking down at me like I was a disobedient child. “Let that be a lesson to you, darlin’.” He gestured around at the cowboys and buckle bunnies. “This isn’t your scene.”

I knew exactly what he meant by that and he was right. This wasn’t my scene and he didn’t want me. Hadn’t I been thinking the same thing when I walked in? Hadn’t I been trying to tell Emmy that? But that didn’t stop my chest from aching like he’d just reached out and struck me.