Page 16 of Dirty Cowboy

“Great.” The door clicks shut behind him, the lock securing automatically.

I head for the kitchen. “I’ll make tea and give you back the shirt.”

“Keep it.”

“At this rate, if I keep all your shirts, you’ll be out by Christmas.”

He chuckles, settling onto a barstool. My insidesmeltat the sight of him leaning on his elbows, muscles flexing effortlessly. He’s still shirtless, and my traitorous brain starts imagining things I really shouldn’t be picturing.

I need to change before I combust.

“Do you mind if I change?” I ask, voice tighter than intended.

“Sure. What tea do you like?”

“Surprise me. Top drawer, left of the sink.” I flee before my vaginaliterallyignites from this absurd gem fiasco.

I grab a bottle of vodka on the way upstairs and strip in the bathroom. Theartworkbetween my thighs is… something. The glue has turned my skin averyunhappy shade of red.

“Damn it, Grace,” I mutter.

I step into the shower, spread my legs, and pour the vodka over my skin.

BAD IDEA.

A scream rips from my throat as the alcoholburns like the fires of hell.My grip on the bottle falters, and it shatters on the tile, a sharp sting slicing across my calf.

Moments later, the bathroom doorburstsopen.

Eric stands there, wide-eyed, taking in the chaos of me, naked, wet, legs parted,silver horse pastieson my nipples, and myvagazzleddisaster on full display.

“What thefuckhappened?”

Tears stream down my face, mixing with mascara. “I was trying to get these off!”

His gaze dips. His entire faceshifts—shock, amusement, maybe a flicker of something darker.

“…What thefuckis that?”

“Gems. Grace said alcohol would take them off.”

Hegrins.“Off yourkitty?”

“Eric! Not. Funny.”

He’s already moving, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me before scooping me into his arms.

The burn subsides, replaced by somethingelse. Something hotter as he carries me to the bed, setting me down gently. I prop up on my elbows, watching as he leans over my crotch, then blows a cool breath over my skin.

My stomachtightens.

Myeverythingtightens.

He glances up, concern flickering behind his usual teasing expression. “Better?”

I nod, but my breath hitches when his fingers hover just over my skin. The air between us shifts, the tensionthickand pulsing. My head screamsstop, but my body? My body is seconds from begging.

And then—hemoves.

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