Obsessed Cowboy (Whiskey Run Cowboys Love Curves 1)

I should stop, I know I should, but he lifts his leg again, and there’s an intense feeling that rocks through my whole entire body, and I freeze against him. Gasping, I pull away. My eyes are large and rounded, staring at him.

His eyes are dark and needy, his lips swollen from what we were just doing. “I’m sorry. We should stop.”

But he doesn’t back away, and he doesn’t move his leg. He pushes it against me again, and my head falls back. “Oh my!” I moan.

He lifts my head, searching my face. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“I can’t have sex with you,” I tell him, at least lucid enough to not completely forget my whole upbringing.

He studies me, and I know he sees the desire and longing. I can’t hide that from him. “I can please you, Janie. I can do that, and we won’t have sex.”

Instantly, I shake my head. “I can’t. I shouldn’t.”

He lowers his leg, and I miss it already. I clutch on to his shirt and hold him close, fearful that he’s going to push away from me. “I’ve never... I mean...”

He kisses my forehead, patiently waiting for me to finish, but I can’t. He pulls back and asks, “You’ve never what?”

I look down at the button on his shirt. There’s no way I can confess this to him and look him in the eye. “I’ve never had an orgasm.”

He moans as if he’s in pain. His breaths are coming in little pants as if he’s out of breath. “Do you want one, Janie? Can I be the one to give it to you?”

I hesitate, and he continues. “Nothing else. I don’t want anything in return. I just want to make you feel good.”

I look around, and there’s no house or animal in view, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone. “What if someone saw me?”

He pulls back, grabbing both of my hands. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t risk letting anyone see you. I can take you in the house; I want to show you anyway. You can think about it. You don’t have to decide right now.”

I release a breath, finally able to relax. It’s too much pressure for right now, and I’m glad he’s giving me an out. My body is still vibrating, and I hate the feeling when he steps back but at least he doesn’t let go of my hand. “Do you want to eat? Are you hungry?”

I nod, and we walk back toward the house. The sun is still hot, so he points to the porch. “Head on up there, honey, and I’ll grab the stuff.”

I walk up the steps and feel bad after he makes three trips to bring everything up. “I can help you, ya know?”

He shakes his head and kisses my forehead as he puts the chairs on one end of the porch and then spreads out a blanket. “The first thing I’m buying is a table and chairs. I’m sorry you have to sit on the ground to eat.”

I shake my head and sit down on the blanket as I pull out the items in the bags. “This is perfect. And I mean, how could anyone complain with that view?”

He sits down next to me and kicks his leg out. “Yum, is this from Red’s?” I ask him, recognizing the labels on the packages.

“It is. I told Violet I was feeding you dinner, and she said she knew just the thing.”

He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but I can’t help asking, “You told Violet you were eating dinner with me?”

He grimaces defensively. “Is that a problem?”

I shake my head. “Not for me it’s not. And Violet’s not a gossip, but everyone else in Whiskey Run is. They’re going to think something’s going on with us... I mean, they’re going to think we’re dating or something.”

10

Carter

She has a point, and I know she does, but I hadn’t thought about it. I’ve never lived my life worrying what people thought of me, but now, knowing Janie and who she is, I can see how it could be a bad thing. “I wasn’t thinking about it. I’m sorry, Janie.”

She lifts her chin. “You don’t have to apologize to me. I’m sure everyone was already talking anyway since you escorted me to church the other night. I can handle what people say about me. I just don’t want it to mess with you or for you to think I’m spreading rumors about us or anything.”

I lean forward. “Wait. You’re telling me you’re worried about me?”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal and continues to take out the containers. I put my hand on hers to stop her. “You’re worried about me?”

Her shoulders drop, and she tilts her head to the side. “Is that so hard to believe? I don’t want you stressing about this.” She gestures between the two of us. “I know where you stand, and you’ve told me your intentions. I just don’t want you feeling bad or pressured or anything.”