Page 61 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

“I don’t think I trust you,” he said. “Yet. But I did like watching you. The other day.”

A quiet desire stirred inside me.

Wasn’t expecting you to admit that to yourself ever again, let alone to me.

I nodded. “I know.”

He kept looking down at my lips and then back to my eyes again. Was he going to try tokissme?

Faint pink slashes appeared on his cheeks and he blinked like he was taking himself out of a trance.

“Do you have some peroxide or rubbing alcohol for that cut, by the way?” he asked.

“First aid kit was one of the first things I bought,” I said. “I get good use out of them.”

He nodded. “Have a good night, Draven.”

I watched him walk back to his car, suppressing every urge to push him up against the front wall of the house and drag his pants down.

I want to tear you apart.

And I also want to hold you close until I can fucking guarantee you are safe, forever.

Both of them are impossible.

Because I don’t know how to handle nice boys.

I don’t know how to handle anything, anymore.

My dreams werebad that night. I was back in Montana, and everything seemed wrong. Everything had been wrong and gettingworse, for far too long.

In the dream things were normal, at first. Up in my bedroom, with the view overlooking the field that gave way to the striking dusky purple mountains behind it. The last remnants of evening light came through my tall windows as I lay on my bed.

But when I turned back to the other side of the bed, Max was there.

Max.

Small-town, big-hearted Max.

You shouldn’t be here.

My heart lurched somewhere up into my throat.

Max tossed away the bedsheets and he was naked underneath, looking over at me like he was more than proud to show me himself. Smooth skin. Firm muscles. Nothing to hide.

“Not here,” I said in the dream.

“Want you to destroy me,” he said.

“You shouldn’t.”

He brought his palm onto my chest, dragging it down my skin, his fingers brushing over the lines of my tattoos and resting at my hip. And then he moved in closer. He was insistent, leaning in to bite my earlobe.

My cock ached. My entire body ached.

I wanted to touch him, badly. I wanted to pin him down and fuck him—fuck his mouth, fuck his ass, come inside his perfect body and, yes, give him what he asked for anddestroyhim, before I rested a while and then took him to pieces all over again.He was nibbling gently at my neck now, his breath on my skin, and it felt like I was handling live ammunition.

If I touched him, we’d both explode like a grenade.

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