Page 25 of Untamed

With a jerk of her head, he rises from the bale and follows after her.

Tearing my gaze away from the festivities, I decide my time here is up. I’m done. I need out of here. Rising from the bale, I make a quick exit without anyone spotting me. Knowing everyone is at the cookout, I head down to the bunkhouse, thankful I’ll get to have the place to myself, even if it’s just for a couple of hours. It is exactly what I need after the chaos of the last couple days.

I push the door open and step into the quiet, the weight of the day already fading away. Kicking my boots off, I then make quick work of changing out of my jeans and flannel shirt and changing into a comfortable pair of sweats. I don’t bother to cover my torso, it’s just me here, after all.

Heading to the fridge, I pull out a cold beer, twisting off the cap with a satisfying hiss. Taking a long pull, I move over to the couch. Getting settled, I reach for the remote, flicking past the sports channels showing rodeo highlights, and settling on an old western movie. A deep sigh leaves me, as I take a moment to appreciate the silence. This is what I miss most about not having my own place. Somewhere I can kick back. Not having to answer to anyone.

Unfortunately, that was ripped away from me when I couldn’t keep up with my mortgage payments. Compared to Oakridge, it wasn’t much. Just a one story, three-bedroom cabin with horse stalls and thirty acres of land. But it was mine. Somewhere I could call home for the first time in my life.

I should’ve known that a man like me could never keep something so good. I worked my ass off to buy that place, but didn’t plan properly, didn’t think to make better choices with my money. Instead of securing my future, I poured my winnings into more horses, more competitions, chasing something that was never going to last. After the accident, the hospital bills stacked up, and I couldn’t work anymore, so the bank took it all.

Fuck. I try to push the past away, taking a sip of my beer. Enough of that. I don’t want to keep going down the same road, knowing it only has one ending. I can only move forward. Unfortunately, it’s easier said than done.

The creaking of the door has my head snapping toward the sound, but even before I see her, I know who it is. I could say I’m surprised, but then that would be a lie. Because somewhere deep inside, I knew she would come. I knew she’d show up, to pull meout of the shadows and into her light, even if she doesn’t realize that’s what she’s doing.

Mila.

Her presence fills the room. It’s impossible not to feel the magnetic pull between us. She is everything I can’t have, everything I don’t deserve.

And yet, she’s here.

Chapter Nineteen

MILA

I pull the door open, my breath catching in my throat when turbulent green eyes lock on mine. The tension swirling through the room grows thicker with every passing second and I feel a flush creep up my neck. Pausing on the threshold, a little cautious, I stare at him, searching his face for a sign of... something,anything,but he gives nothing away. Our first interaction since the kiss was tonight, when I asked him to dance. When he turned me down. Now I’m invading his personal space and doubting whether this was a good idea.

Sucking in a steady breath, I straighten my shoulders. I’m here now. Might as well follow through with my stupidity. I smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

“Colter,” I breathe out, trying to break the tension swirling around the room.

His eyes narrow, intense on me and darkening with something I can’t place. Desperate to avoid his penetrating stare, my gaze shifts to his body. His very bare, very tattooed chest. My eyes widen as I take in his sculpted form, and my pulse spikes, thumping in my chest as I let my gaze roam over him. Muscular, tanned, with a smattering of dark hair, he is pure, raw masculinity.

The thought of his body pressed against mine…of him above me…thrusting inside me… I swallow. What I wouldn’t give to have that thought come to fruition. Could I even handle a man like him? I would like to think so. A throat clears, snapping me out of my inappropriate thoughts. My eyes find Colter’s narrowed ones watching me as if he can read every filthy thing in my mind. My cheeks heat in embarrassment, knowing I’ve been caught ogling him.

“What’re you doing here, Mila?” he asks, his voice measured but I don’t miss the irritation beneath it.

I step closer, my voice firm when I speak. “You’ve been avoiding me.” It’s not a question because it’s the damn truth. And I know I’m not innocent. It wasn’t even a week ago, I was acting the same. Christ, this back and forth between us is exhausting.

Instead of responding, he lifts the bottle in his hand to his mouth, his full lips wrapping around the head and taking a slow deliberate sip. His green orbs never leave mine, cool and unsettling. A shiver runs up my spine, shooting a pulse right between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together imperceptibly, unwilling to let Colter see the effect he’s having on me

But I should’ve known better. He is surely a man of experience and of course he has noticed. It’s in the way his nostrils flare, the way his chest heaves, his harsh breathing. He pulls the bottle from his mouth, placing it on the coffee table before settling on the couch, his forearms resting on his knees.

With every part of my body filled with tension, I wait with bated breath for him to speak.

“I have.” He confirms what I already knew to be true.

I scoff, folding my arms across my chest, glaring down at him as my frustration boils over. I’m not usually this confrontational, but for some reason Colter brings out this side of me. “If Iremember correctly, it was you that kissed me. Then you ran away. I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”

My voice wavers, doubt creeping in. Did he not like the kiss?

Exhaling a breath, he scrubs a hand across his stubble before rising from the couch. In two long strides, he closes the distance between us. Swallowing, I take a step back until my back hits the solid wood of the door. Déjà vu hits me. Memories of what happened the other night, of being in this same position, flood my mind. My heart flutters wildly in my chest when I remember how it all ended.

His palms hit the wall beside me, his solid arms now caging me in. Up close, I can make out the dark lines of his tattoos, symbols of a cowboy’s life. A lasso, a bucking horse, a spur. But it’s the small writing down the inside of his forearm that catches my eye.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. ...

I barely have time to process the words before Colter clears his throat, pulling my gaze up to his. My breath catches in my throat at the hungry look I see on his face. I blink, then blink again, just to make sure I’m not seeing things I want to see. Nope. Definitely not imagining it. Desire, hunger, it’s burning in his eyes, clear for me to see.

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