Page 66 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

It didn’t matter that he was a man—in that moment, in the low light, he looked so beautiful to me that it hurt somewhere deep in my soul.

He wascrushinglyattractive. His high cheekbones, and those goddamn ruddy lips that he wouldn’t let me kiss, for some reason. His dark hair that looked so soft and smelled so good, like some warm spiced vanilla every time I’d been this close to him.

Suddenly a list of desires broke out from somewhere in my mind.

Things I’d wanted, but never let out into the light of day.

I want to feel his hair. How soft it really is.

I want to know what it might feel like to have someone this strong pin me down in bed. Leave me helpless. Make me struggle, force me to come.

I want to fucking kiss him. Suck on his lower lip. Bite it. Feel his tongue slide on mine.

And I want him to let me.

The thoughts swirled around my mind like they were in orbit around me, now. His green eyes were on me, something possessive coming out in him—or maybe he was just pissed off that I’d been so pushy with him.

His palm found its way to the front of my chest, reaching up under my tank top and hitting my bare skin.

He must have been able to feel my heart pounding now.

And then all at once, he moved his other hand down past the waistband of my pants in a smooth motion, and I gasped as his fingers reached in and closed around my cock.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

He had me pinned against the tree and now his hand was around my cock,grippingit for the first time, out in public.

It was a tight fit past my waistband. He moved his hand from my cock down to my sack, stroking along my balls, tightened up under his touch.

“Someone could see us,” I uttered too quickly, my voice low and a little wavering now because I was so turned on even though alarm bells were going off in my head.

“And you like that,” Draven said in a tone that was nearly a growl.

I let out another near-whimper.

He was right.

He was so right about everything. All of the things I wanted to hate him for, since the moment I’d met him.

Nothing about this was good. Being in public. Being withhim. My sister’s fucking ex-boyfriend, with his hand down my pants, in the town I’d been in since I was born. A guy who was like a werewolf in human form, cold and calculating until the exact moment when he decided to become feral.

His hand closed around my cock again and I melted back against the tree, the mottled surface of the trunk pressing against the thin material of my tank top onto my back.

Draven hummed. “Undo the button.”

“Bad idea.”

“Do it.”

I breathed deep, reaching down with shaky hands to undo the top button on my pants, giving his forearm that much more leeway to work with my cock. I slid down my zipper afterward, and Draven moved in a little closer to one side of my body, getting a better grip.

The side of his body was pressed against one side of mine, now, half-pinning me to the tree still while he started to stroke my cock in earnest. It felt so good and sowrongthat I swore Icould lose control at a moment’s notice, but I also wouldn’t have stopped this for the world.

I’d taken a fifteen-minute break from work when I’d left to follow him outside, and I had no idea how much time had passed now. I may as well have been on anotherplanetnow.

I leaned my head back against the trunk of the tree, swearing under my breath as Draven’s grip tightened a little more around me.

“You’re good at that,” I said, my voice low.

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