Page 97 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

I leaned on the wall, the wood surface cool against my skin. “You order your couch from Italy and your coffee from Italy?”

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

“No I won’t,” I protested. “I don’t like hot drinks. I don’t like being woken up to loud noises. I don’t likeseven fifty-one in the morning.”

He set down the coffee grinder and stepped over toward me. He laced his hands around my waist, pulling me close and catching me off-guard.

It almost looked like he was moving in for a kiss, but I knew better. He leaned in, burying his nose in my hair for a moment before dipping lower and licking along my neck.

He hummed. “I did leave a mark,” he said, running his fingertips over a spot on my neck.

“You were sucking it hard enough,” I muttered.

Before I could say anything else he was moving even lower, licking my nipple and taking it between his teeth. I pulled in a sharp breath of air, my skin breaking out in goosebumps at the sudden sensation.

I couldn’t stop my cock from responding to his unexpected touch.

The problem was that he’d gotten so close that my cock was now mashed right up against the top of his thigh. He felt it and then glanced down, giving it a tight little tug before moving away.

Fuck you, Draven.

All of that sensation, given out of nowhere, then yanked right away.

“Fine. You don’t have to like hot coffee. I’ll order in some cold brew for you.”

I palmed at my cock, wishing it would go down.

“No. I’m out of here.”

“To where?”

“Red Fox. They always have good cold brew, and they have real food.”

“You’re going to the diner?” he asked. “The diner that’s about thirty feet away from the spot your stalker was in last night?”

I gave him a plain stare. “Yep. I am. And I’m not going to stop living my normal life because of freaks on the internet.”

“I’m coming with you,” Draven said.

I paused for a moment, watching as he poured his green juice into a to-go Thermos. “There’s nothing I can say to make younotcome with me, is there?”

His eyes were so beautiful, but very serious as he looked up at me. “Not really, Max. No.”

As I turned to leave the kitchen he reached out and gave my ass a smack.

“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” he called after me as I headed down the hall.

In a few more minutes we reconvened by the front door, where Draven picked up his black Stetson hat and popped it on.

Christ, he looked good.

Hottest fucking cowboy I have ever seen.

Never in my life did I imagine I’d have that thought about a man, but here we were.

Draven insisted that we take his truck. It was the fanciest pickup I’d ever been in, the front seats decked out in a buttery soft black leather. The whole front of the cab smelled faintly like him, woodsy, spiced, but with a warm undertone like vanilla. As we made our way down the country roads and onto Laurel Ave, Draven’s eyes scanned the world like he was looking for threats.

Hewaslooking for threats.

---