Make Me Yours (Bridgewater County 5)

CHAPTER FOUR

Colt

Holy fuck.

When I first saw the woman on the porch, I wondered if the beauty was one of the newlyweds going with Micah. I was surprised her husband let her get dressed. If she were my wife, I’d never let her wear clothes. Hell, I’d never let her out of bed.

And on a day trip into the backcountry? Yeah, her man didn’t deserve her if he didn’t fuck her over a boulder. I pitied my friend. It would be torture to know that gorgeous body was being fucked…by someone else.

As I tied off the leads on the porch rail, my eyes were glued to her, taking in every inch of her body; from the dark hair, pulled back in a long tail that fell over one shoulder to the hot pink tips of her bare toes and every lush inch in between.

With the sky a bright robin’s egg blue and not a cloud in the sky, I was struck by that damned lightning. I was pretty sure it had hit Micah, too. Ironic we’d just talked about it and then…wham.

This woman, fuck. My damn Bridgewater instincts finally decided to kick in and she was married.

She wasn’t supermodel stunning, which was fine by me. I didn’t like a woman who was tall like a giraffe and ridiculously skinny. No, this woman a

te more than salad because her curves, each and every one of them, were perfect for my hands. The jeans she wore were trim, outlining her long legs, but not too tight. Her t-shirt though, did little to hide her hard nipples. I bit my lip as I stared at those tight tips. She wore a bra, but her nipples seemed to have a mind of their own. She seemed to sense this because she crossed her arms over her perfect chest and flushed a pretty shade of pink.

Instant attraction. Hell, I’d seen pretty women before, but this was…visceral. Lust was definitely there. I was just glad I had the porch railing blocking her view of the front of my pants.

When I started paying attention to the conversation, I picked up on single and available. Apparently, the woman on the phone—not the one standing before us—was the one supposed to be going with Micah but had instead eloped to Hawaii. Instead of getting busy with her new husband, she was matchmaking for her sister. With Micah and me. I didn’t stand for matchmaking, but since she was The One and Micah mentioned condoms, then lube, I was all for it. Seemed Micah was, too.

I definitely missed part of the conversation.

I hadn’t planned on doing more than delivering the horses for the ride, but there was no way was I framing when she was around and there was mention of lube. And when her sister said she needed to get laid, I was fine with that. A little playful banter was an easy way to assess her willingness.

Her embarrassment couldn’t be missed and she politely went back in the cabin, door closed to obviously yell at the other woman. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to fuck two cowboys on her vacation, but it was obvious it wasn’t something she did every day. No, she didn’t seem like one to sleep around.

I glanced at Micah.

He just grinned back.

I went up the steps so I was closer to Micah. “Condoms?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

He was grinning as he turned away from the closed door. “You heard the sister. Lacey needs to be fucked. Is that why you decided to join me?”

Lacey. I’d never caught her name. It was pretty. Different. It suited her.

I reached down, shifted my cock. “You can’t have her all to yourself. She’s…incredible. I want to fuck her, but I want more than that with her.”

“Damn straight.” He angled his chin, rubbed his hand over his chin, whiskers rasping. “She’s the one.”

I agreed and was glad he felt the same way. “Why the hell is the sister playing matchmaker? Lacey must have men falling at her feet.”

We were.

The door opened and Lacey stepped out onto the porch. The soft breeze picked up her scent. Peaches? I stifled a groan as I wondered if all of her was so sweet.

“I’m…um, sorry about my sister,” she said, her voice tentative. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes met ours, then away. “She’s a little bold.”

“That’s all right,” Micah said, putting a hand on the porch railing.

“I’m a little embarrassed,” she admitted, refusing to look at either of us.

I stepped closer, ran my knuckles down her arm. “Hey, don’t be. There’s nothing wrong with a woman knowing what she wants. If it’s me and Micah, we aim to please.”

When she finally…finally tipped her chin up to look at me, those dark eyes held a mix of wariness and eager mischief.