Page 53 of The Cowboy Complication

She got a glimpse of the outside of his truck and a flash of his garage. “Are you home?”

“I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t.”

That was nice to know. “I’m at home too.”

I’m at home too? What the frick did that even mean?

She was an inarticulate, flat-footed potato. Why did she think she’d be able to do something like this? Seduce a man like Cooper—her friend—and get him to magically want more by showing him her boobies.

She was a stupid, inarticulate, flat-footed potato.

“Good.” Cooper unhooked the vest strapped to his chest and hauled it over his head. “Go lay on the bed.”

Isla watched as he peeled his shirt off, her eyes fused to the screen as she padded across the floor and slid onto the mattress. She was so focused on him, her uncertainty and embarrassment got pushed back. It was still there, just less important than seeing what was happening at Cooper’s house.

He reached behind his head with his free hand and grabbed the back of the black undershirt he still had on, tugging it up and over—back to front—before peeling it away.

“Oh.” The air rushed from her lungs at the sight of all that naked skin. “You have a really nice chest.”

Cooper smiled, the expression slow and seductive. “Not as nice as yours.” He tipped his head. “Show me.”

In the process of getting onto the bed, she’d ended up with just her head and neck displayed on the screen. Before panning out, she took a second to position herself a little bit, pushing her boobs higher and angling her hips to one side so she’d look a little more hour-glassy.

No more potato here.

She stretched, giving him the best angle she could manage, eyes locked on his face as she tried to read his expression.

There was no reading necessary.

“Fuck.” He said it just like he had the other day. Like he was suffering—in a good way.

She smiled—couldn’t help it—as a sense of victory and empowerment washed over her.

“Look how pretty you are like this.” Cooper continued moving around in a way that seemed an awful lot like he just took his pants off.

Her eyes drifted to the smaller window displaying what Cooper was seeing. She couldn’t argue with him. She did look kind of pretty. Except her one boob—the one more front and center in the shot—was sitting weird. She angled a little more toward her back then used her free hand to push it a little closer to its sister, creating a hint more cleavage.

Cooper groaned, the sound low and desperate. “That’s it, Princess. Show me how you touch yourself.”

He’d misinterpreted her boob relocation, but Cooper seemed so into it she didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t what she was actually doing. Especially not with him watching her with so much intensity. Like he’d die if they lost their connection.

She felt the same way. And not just about the cell line.

Because she wanted to please him, and because she wanted more of whatever was happening right now, Isla teased the tips of her fingers across the nipple of the breast she’d stealthily adjusted. The scene behind Cooper finally stilled and came into focus. He was on his own bed, watching raptly as she circled her rapidly puckering nipple. Feeling a little silly. A little on display. A little exposed.

And a lot out of her element.

“I don’t know how to do this.” She wouldn’t admit that to anyone but him. Cooper had never judged her before, and she knew he wouldn’t do it now.

“I bet you know how to do more than you think.” Cooper’s low voice urged her on. “Just try for me.”

Isla worked her lower lip between her teeth, caught in a confusing cloud of arousal and fear. Curiosity and concern.

But there was something that might help.

“What about you? Are you going to try too?” A rush of heat flooded her body at the thought. At the idea of Cooper touching himself while she touched herself.

Of watching it happen.

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