Page 84 of Dirty Cowboy

"You..." I swallow, my throat dry. "You have thick fingers."

The words tumble out before I can stop them, and I want to shrink into myself. Mortification claws at my chest, twisting with disappointment as he slowly—so painfully slowly—withdraws his fingers. The loss is instant, cold and unbearable.

"You’re a virgin?" His voice is tight, his body stiff as he stands and steps back.

The heat in my cheeks burns hotter, shame creeping in where pleasure had been just moments before. I press my thighs together, my bound hands curling toward my stomach as if I can shield myself from his reaction.

"How can you tell?" I whisper, my voice barely above the sound of Shadow’s distant neigh.

Eric drags a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. "Because you were so damn tight and trembling... because you froze the moment my fingers were inside you and I… I just shouldn’t have…”

The words send another rush of warmth through me, but the look in his eyes douses any flicker of hope. Regret. Hesitation. A sharp blade of rejection slides between my ribs.

"I thought being tight would be a good thing." I reach for him, but he steps further away, like the space between us is the only thing keeping him in control.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. "I want you, Ems. I do. But not here. Not like this."

A lump forms in my throat, thick and stubborn. "Eric, I'm twenty-five."

"And still a virgin?" His voice is strangled.

I shrug, trying to play off the weight of the moment.

"Shadow’s been waiting for her stallion," I say softly, meeting his gaze. "Just like I’ve been waiting for my man."

His entire body goes rigid. His chest rises and falls in deep, controlled breaths. He drags his palm over his face like he’s trying to wipe away the reality of what I just admitted.

"And you think I’m it?" His voice is filled with disbelief.

"Don’t you?"

His throat bobs as he swallows. "I... I don’t know. This was supposed to be pretend, Emma. And now… Now I can’t stop kissing you. And now you’re telling me you’re a virgin?—"

"So?" I push through the ache in my chest and take a step forward, challenging him. "What difference does it make? I want you. And I know you want me, too."

I gesture toward the very obvious, very straining evidence of his arousal.

His jaw clenches. "Me fucking you in a stable for your first time isn’t the right way."

Something inside me cracks.

Before I can respond, he snatches my jeans off the hay bale and starts dressing me like I’m a doll he needs to put away. His hands are careful but quick, zipping me up and fastening my buttons like it’s some kind of damage control.

I lift my bound wrists toward him. "Untie me?"

His fingers work fast, undoing the knots he so carefully tied just moments ago. Once free, I rub at the faint rope marks on my wrists, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He checks it, his expression unreadable, then shoves it back without saying a word.

"Spam," he mutters, but I don’t believe him.

"Emma…" He exhales, dragging his gaze back to me. "I’m sorry, I got carried away."

I force a smile, even as painful rejection tightens in my chest. "It’s fine."

It’s not fine, but what choice do I have?

"We both got caught up in the moment." The words taste bitter.

---