Page 85 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

“And I know you like this,” he said, his voice dropping a little quieter. “And that no matter how much you might hate about me, youwantthis, badly. I can see it all over your body. Those goosebumps all over you anytime I touch your skin. The way your nipples harden. That fucking incredible pink flush on your cheeks?—”

“I’m just sensitive,” I said. “It isn’t anything special.”

“Wrong.”

I bit the inside of my cheeks. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“If you want to come, you’re more than welcome to get off,” Draven said. “I’ll tongue your hole if it makes it easier for you. Idon’t know if you’ve ever had someone eat you out while you jerk yourself off before, but a tongue can do a whole lot?—”

“You were wrong about one thing,” I said.

“Tell me.”

I finally summoned the willpower to meet his eyes again. “I don’t want to come.”

“Liar.”

I breathed deep. “You make me feel crazy.”

All at once, he pulled his hand away. He moved to the other side of the bed, no longer straddling me, and the absence of his heat on my thighs felt just as jarring.

“Okay, Baby Blue,” he said.

Just like that, he had listened to me.

I’d told him I didn’t want to come, and so… he stopped.

I felt like I was caught in a web of my own confusion, struggling against it, wondering why the fuck I’d told him something that evenIknew was a lie.

But the moment he’d given control back to me, I knew I didn’t want it.

I was infuriated. Turned on.

I let out a frustrated sigh, running my fingers through my hair.

I turned toward him on the bed, and he let his head turn toward me, giving me a neutral stare.

Those eyes.

Like a wolf. Like a predator.

Something I could never resist if I tried.

“Fine,” I said, my voice low. “Maybe I do want to.”

His gaze shifted from neutral to determined in a moment, like a flame had been lit behind them.

“Strip,” he barked, an undeniable command. “Shirt off. Need you naked.”

I realized I was shaking a little as I sat up in bed and reached to pull off my shirt.

Nothing escaped Draven’s notice—he saw my slight tremble, too. He brought his hand to mine, shoving my shirt off faster, gripping it away from me and tossing it on the floor.

“Impatient much?” I asked, but my own shakiness showed up in my voice a little.

“I want my tongue on your hole while your hand is on your cock,” he said. He’d kept his hand on mine, and now he interlocked his fingers in mine, something between holding hands and taking control of my movement. “Is that what you want, too? Want to feel me, warm and wet, while you come so hard you forget your own name?”

“Yes.”

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