Page 9 of Stuck with Me

“Why?”

“I’d like to know who my family can blame if I end up going missing this week.” It’s a joke, but Rosalie isn’t impressed by the way she purses her lips and continues to sport the perma-frown.

“Well, you already met Jones. Then there’s my best friend Cammie, who’s Jones’s sister. And her boyfriend, Maverick. There’s always a few others.”

“And you’re all close, I’m assuming?”

“The closest. We all grew up in Maple Ridge together.”

“Seriously? You grew up here and thenchoseto stay?” I emphasize the word ‘chose’ and must hit a nerve with her.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Fuck you. And I’m sure your ho-dunk town in Texas is so much better?”

I bark out a laugh. “I’d hardly call a city with a population of one hundred thousand ho-dunk.”

“Maple Ridge is fucking awesome.” She glances away. “Whatever. You wouldn’t get it.”

That dirty mouth of hers throws me off again. And it ignites a fire in my core, quickly traveling south. “Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a sailor.”

Now it’s her turn to bark out a laugh. “Does my cursing offend you, Mr. Moretti?”

“It doesn’t offend me,” I say, shrugging and letting the rest of my words remain strictly in my thoughts. Because it does the opposite, it turns me on. God knows it shouldn’t. But hearing this woman talk like that makes my dick hard.

“What then?” she narrows her eyes and smirks, almost as if she’s challenging me. Almost as if she knows exactly what her dirty mouth is doing to me.

Rather than backing down, like I know she expects me to, I lean across the table and lower my voice as I say, “Maybe no one has ever taught you the proper way to speak like a lady.”

This bantering between us is different than I’ve experienced with any other woman before. It’s stirred a fire of desire that I’ve been pushing down since Granddad passed. For the past six months, I haven’t allowed myself to feel anything good. Not happiness, not joy, not even pleasure from a woman.

But with Rosie, the urgency to finally indulge and feel something gratifying presses into me.

It’s her turn now, to tease me back. Though I’m not sure she’s as into this as I am.

She meets me halfway across the table, hunkering down when she says, “And I suppose you want to be the one to teach me?”

Ahh, there it is. Satisfaction blooms in my chest. But my heart pounds faster against my ribcage and the worry over a possible panic attack causes me to chicken out to razz her back. I’m not about to embarrass myself here, in front of Rosalie.

I lean back in my chair, adjust my cowboy hat, and shrug as I sip my fresh beer. But I imagine what her reaction would be if I told her exactly what I wanted her to do with her mouth.

She eyes me suspiciously, and something tells me I don’t have to tell her what I want, she already knows.

“I should warn you, I’m not an easy student to teach,” she says, her voice purring and leaving a shiver dancing over my skin. Her tongue sweeps out to wet her lips and I subconsciously bite my own.

The sexual tension burns between us like an invisible lit fuse and I’m not sure which end is on fire and who will combust first.

“The thing is, I don’t teach students. I train horses. I teach dogs to lead cattle. I’m the best there is. By the time I’m done with ‘em, I have them submitting.” I bring the bottle to my mouth and take a big satisfying gulp.

Halfway through swallowing, she says, “You might be the best in Texas, but I should warn you, when I’m through with you, you’ll be the one submitting.”

I choke on my beer, and she bursts out laughing. It turns into an evil giggle. It suits her. Because this woman is sinister. I’m convinced she’s the devil.

And I’ve never wanted to dance with the devil more than I do right now.

CHAPTER3

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