Page 40 of Saddle and Bound

I can't get the image of Rosie in that damn silk pajama out of my head. I try to focus on milking, but my mind keeps going back to that moment in front of her door.

My mind is a terrible place right now.

I need a distraction, and fast. The tightness in my jeans has been unbearable for a while now… Thank God Rosie didn’t catch a glimpse of the situation earlier. But now, I have to deal with this before she gets here..

I certainly didn't expect to find her so... exposed. The tank top was so thin that I didn't have to imagine anything, the short pants showing off those toned legs. And the silk... God, that silk sliding over her body like a caress.

"Focus, idiot," I mutter to myself, trying to concentrate on the cow in front of me.

But it's useless. I keep seeing the way her messy hair framed her face, that sleepy and confused expression that made her even more adorable. And then, when she realized the situation, the blush that rose to her cheeks...

I sigh, running a hand over my face.

I can't afford to develop feelings for her.

My brain won’t quit. I can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to run my hands over that soft, bare skin, tracing the curve of her hips, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us. Her breath hitching under my touch. Her body trembling.

Would her skin taste as sweet as her perfume smells?

"Damn it, Alex!" I exclaim out loud, startling the cow.

I apologize to the animal, stroking its side to calm it down. I need to regain control of myself.

Last night, she had me wrapped around her little finger. The way she moved—confident, sensual, fiery—it was impossible to look away. She knew exactly what she was doing, too. And then to realize it was all part of her revenge? That stung.

But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop watching her.

Even after the dance, when she ignored me completely, keeping to the girls. Even when we all gathered around the fire and roasted marshmallows, she wouldn’t look my way. I sat across from her like a lovesick fool, still hypnotized.

And then she disappeared.

Back in my room, I did what I’ve done every night since she got here—let out some of that pent-up frustration, thinking about her. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

Damn city princess. She’s scrambled my brain, and instead of trying to sort myself out, I keep looking for more excuses to be near her.

She’s a drug, and I’m hooked.

That’s why I sent those messages. I was a little buzzed, sure, but I won’t blame the whiskey for this one. It just gave me the nerve to say what I wanted without overthinking it.

Rory handed over her number without hesitation, grinning like a cat who caught the mouse.

When Rosie answered, I felt like I’d won the lottery. We texted for a while, and yeah, I was vague about this morning’s chores. A little mischief never hurt anyone, right? But inviting her on the camping trip… That was a gamble.

Just the two of us, alone in the middle of nowhere.

What the hell was I thinking?

But the thought of being with her out there, away from everything, has me counting the hours until the weekend.

I’m still lost in my thoughts when I see her walking toward me. My pulse skips.

If I thought the silk pajamas were bad, this… this is pure torture.

Rosie approaches with an uncertain step, wearing overalls that look incredibly good on her. They're short, and the straps hug her curves in an almost indecent way. But it's her face that strikes me the most. She's done two little braids, giving her such an innocent and adorable air that contrasts absurdly with her natural sensuality.

"Good morning again," she says, a slight blush still on her cheeks.

I swallow hard. “‘Morning” I manage to say, desperately trying not to stare at her for too long.

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