Page 21 of Space Cowgirl: Houston, All Systems Go
It takes me a minute to figure out what he means and when I do my whole body stiffens. Any warmth I’d felt toward Holt cools like a rocket in space.
Pissed, and oddly hurt, I play it off the only way I know how.
I tilt my head to the side and smile, running my hands up the front of his now buttoned shirt and thread them into his hair. His eyes widen and I tug him forward, my mouth at his ear.
“You want to know something, cowboy?” I whisper, then lick the rim of his ear for good measure. I smile when his hands come up and grab at my hips. “I thinkyou’rethe one distracted.” I nip his earlobe before pulling out of his grasp to strut into the house.
I don’t look back. Because if I did, I might not manage to be so playful. Or worse, he might see how much his words hurt me.
And then I’d have to junk punch him.
* * *
HOLT
I watchJules walk into the house, my eyes glued to her form. Her sweaty, sexy, lithe form.
My dick, which had been as restless as me last night, stirs at the sight.
Who am I kidding, it’s had a mind of its own ever since she stomped into my house yesterday in those shit-kickers.
All night I tried to get comfortable enough to sleep with a raging hard-on, refusing to give in and stroke off to the image of Jules sleeping just down the hall.
Guess what? You canneverget comfortable enough to sleep with a raging hard-on. So now that is two nights in a row sleep has eluded me.
Hence my pissy attitude.
I was anythingbutpissy, though, when I’d raced down the steps, twenty minutes late for my meet-up with Tucker, only to come to a thudding stop at the sight of Jules’ heart-shaped ass thrust into the air.
When she put her hand on my shoulder, my restless dick nearly jumped out of my unbuckled jeans. If Tucker hadn’t called out when he had, I’m pretty sure I would’ve said the heck with everything and bent her over the porch railing in the glow of the sunrise.
Tucker. Fuck. I rub my hand down my face thinking of the asshole move I just pulled.
I turned into a total jealous ass all because Jules had smiled at Tucker. I actually warned her away from him. Like she’s some loose skirt I have to keep an eye on. Like I’m some 1950s throwback. Like I even had a right to tell her whom she could or could not flirt with. She’d actually flinched at my asinine comment. She recovered so quickly, for a second I thought maybe I misinterpreted it, that she’d just blinked. But I hurt her, and dang it if that didn’t make me feel like ten times an asshat.
I finally had Jules looking at me with something other than condescension and humor, and I had to go mess it up.
I should apologize. That’s what a gentleman would do. What my grandfather taught me to do.
Straightening, I yank open the screen door and jog up the steps. Past my room and down the hall, I raise my hand to knock on the guest room Jules had claimed for her own. But the sound of music and running water stops me. Holy heck, I know that song. It’s the song she peeled her leather pants off to, drunkenly swaying to its beat, her hands kneading her breasts through her strategically tattered shirt.
Jules is in my house. Naked. Showering to her masturbation playlist.
I’m so hard right now my dick could knock on the door for me. Which it really, really wants to. But even though I’m turned on enough to jump-start a tractor, I know that barging into a woman’s shower to apologize for being a jerk is a creeptastic move.
Quickly, I retrace my steps, ignoring the pain of my hard-on as I jog down the stairs and out the door. It’s for the best.
I have a lot of work to do before the contractor and designer get here in a few hours to start on the renovations for the wedding, anyway.
The screen door slams behind me as I limp my way to the barn.
“What’s up with your leg?” Tucker starts in on me as soon as I enter.
“Nothing.” I try to even out my gait when I walk past him and over to my horse, Angelo.
“Then why are you limping? And who is Jules?”
I can feel Tucker’s eyes on me as I open the stall door and throw the lead over Angelo’s head. The large stallion whinnies and stomps, picking up on my discontent.
