Prologue
“Step one foot closer and kiss your testicles goodbye.”
Most men would have stopped and slowly backed away at the threat. Not Nash Blackshaw. He locked the door of the log cabin and kept on coming with a gorgeous smile that charmed the panties off many women. His messy brown hair drew out the intensity of his blue eyes, which led down to a purely masculine chiseled jawline.
“I wouldn’t stop you from kissing my nuts, Freckles,” Nash murmured, not missing a beat.
Freckles. Megan Harrison had tried to hate the nickname he had given her during their high school years—relating to the freckles spattering her nose—but her heart tripped every time he purred the single word.
Pressed against the wall in the newly built log cabin at the Blackshaw Cattle Guest Ranch, Nash moved with purpose toward Megan, his gaze stalking her. That single statement she muttered had been her last-ditch effort to kill the heat flaring inside her.
She failed miserably.
The bright moon tonight provided ample light showing Nash’s face fully when he passed the window. Her belly flip-flopped at all the promises in his eyes. But Megan could count four very good reasons why she should not be alone with him.
One, they were currently attending the wedding of Chase, Nash’s brother, and Harper, Megan’s best friend. The music and laughter from the reception going on outside at the Blackshaws’ cattle ranch was all but muffled now, but people were still nearby.
Two, Nash went through women like he changed his socks.
Three, the only commitment Megan had ever seen Nash make during all the years they attended the same schools together and hung out in the same circle of friends was to Gus, his yellow Labrador retriever.
Four, Nash was the reckless son of her father’s sworn enemy, Rick Blackshaw. And the long-standing feud between the families over their cattle businesses held strong. For reasons Megan didn’t quite know, Nash was the Blacksaw brother with the deepest animosity toward her father. She didn’t doubt in the least that Nash only wanted her as a dig at her father.
Even so, all those reasons seemed to up and vanish tonight. Megan wanted this one night to sate her hunger. Which was why after their obligatory slow dance as part of the wedding party, she had headed to the last cabin, far away from the other guests, telling herself Nash wouldn’t follow and yet wanting him to do exactly that.
When he finally closed the distance and pressed his hands next to her head against the wall, her nipples hardened. A devilish smile curved his mouth, and he leaned in close. He smelled like pine and pure man, and damn, she wanted all his hotness grinding against her until she screamed his name. He gazed at her mouth before he arched a single eyebrow. “Got any other snappy one-liners, or can I finally kiss this sassy mouth?”
Usually she would have had a smart-ass response, but her brain failed her. She shivered as heat invaded her like a high-grade fever. She pulsed and ached and dampened, desperate for him to sink in deep and show her what he could do.
“This one night,” Megan told him. “That’s it. Never again.” Because her heart had no defense against the likes of Nash Blackshaw.
He nuzzled her neck. “Not even up for a negotiation?”
“There will be no negotiation,” she stated firmly, grasping onto his dress shirt and pulling him closer. “Take tonight or get out.”
“Oh, Freckles, I’m certainly going to have you tonight, let there be no doubt about that.” His low, smooth voice tickled her in all the right places. He brushed his nose down the side of her neck and dropped a kiss there. “Any other demands before I shut off that busy mind of yours?”
God, that touch . . . his lips . . . She moaned.