Page 20 of Head Over Spurs

There was fire burning in his veins at the idea of her walking into the sleaziest bar in the county looking like a cowboy’s wildest dream. The men that would be drinking there on a Sunday afternoon didn’t deserve to even give her a second glance, let alone the other things they’d want to do.

Snatching her outstretched ankle in his hand, he slid her down the car towards him until her knees straddled his hips. “Tell me you won’t replace me at a sleazy bar,” he murmured, leaning in until their breaths mingled. No matter how laid back he typically felt, the moment he was in her orbit, he seemed to lose his mind.

“Replace you for what?” she challenged.

“A non-professional arrangement.” He kept his hands planted on the car, tilting his chin down until their eyes met.

“You don’t want to be replaced?” she asked in a whisper, lifting one of her hands and dragging a long, black painted fingernail down his chest where the top few snaps of his shirt were undone.

His hands screamed to feel her. But if they were going to do something, he was determined to make sure she didn’t want to hide it after. “Has anything changed for you?” His voice was gravely and thick as he asked.

Lifting her other hand, she slowly began undoing his shirt further, until it was open enough for her to spread a hand across his bare chest. She pressed a palm to him and curled her fingers, lightly dragging her nails against him. Damn, this woman had the magic touch.

“Does it make you mad?” she asked. “The idea of me hooking up with someone else.”

“You’re goddamn right it does.”

Bowing her head, she dragged her nose along his jaw before nipping at his throat. The feel of her mouth on him again was sweet torture, and he pressed his hands down harder against the car.

“Show me,” she murmured against his throat.

“I don’t play games, Juliette. If you want to do this, you don’t go back to pretending nothing has happened between us. You can’t flee from a hotel room this time.”

As he suspected, his words stopped her in her tracks. She pulled back, biting her lip and studying his expression.

Jules didn’t truly want him; not like he wanted her. And he wasn’t going to give in until they were on the same page.

“That’s what I thought.” He began closing his shirt back up, ignoring the pouty frown on her unbelievably sexy lips. “Let’s go, we’ll call a tow from the truck.”

He turned and started back the way he came, forcing himself not to look back over his shoulder at her. After a few steps, he heard the sound of her boots hitting the ground.

“I wasn’t looking to replace you,” she muttered as she caught up to him. “I dress in things that make me feel good. If you like it, too, I guess that’s just a bonus.”

She yanked open the passenger door and climbed into the cab the same moment he did. Dropping onto the bench seat, she avoided looking his way.

“Who wouldn’t like the way you dress?”

“Apparently, I can be a bit much.” Her words were vulnerable, cautious. “And if you thought this was an outfit for picking up a guy at somesleazy bar, it must be true.”

Against his better judgment, he reached out and brushed her hair back over her shoulder, his knuckles grazing her soft skin. “A bit much? Whoever thinks that about you is a dumbass. Besides, I would have hated you walking to that bar instead of calling me no matter what you were wearing.”

Something between a scoff and a sigh escaped her, and she turned to face him. There was a speckle of trust in her eyes, and maybe even some hope. His Juliette was back. Not the front she put up outside just now.

Whether she actually planned to walk to the bar or not, it didn’t matter. She had called him instead. She had called him and that was what mattered.

11

RILEY

The blinking lights of the tow truck disappeared in the opposite direction.

“Wait where are we going?” Jules asked, craning her neck to read a passing sign. “Why didn’t you just pop a U-turn?”

He cast her a sideways glance. “Because that won’t get us where we are going.”

“It’s how we got here, why wouldn’t it get us back?”

“We aren’t going back, wild thing.”

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