Page 40 of My Cowboy Trouble
Then she's in front of me, eyes dark, cheeks flushed. "You sure about this, cowboy? Once we do this, we can't undo it."
"I know."
"Do you?" She steps closer, her hands flat on my chest. "Because tomorrow, you're going to wake up and remember all the reasons this is complicated."
"Tomorrow's problem," I tell her, pulling her against me. "Tonight, you're ours."
"Wrong." She grins against my mouth. "Tonight, you're mine. All of you."
"Ground rules," she announces, pulling her tank top over her head in one smooth motion. The lacy bra underneath is completely impractical for ranch work, which means she wore it on purpose. For this. "No jealousy. No weirdness. And definitely no treating me like I'm fragile."
"You? Fragile?" Gavin laughs, already shirtless because of course he is. "Princess, you just rode a horse like you were trying to break it and it was trying to break you."
"And I stayed on," she reminds him, working on his belt buckle with surprising efficiency. "Barely, but it counts."
Asher moves behind her, his hands skimming her sides. "You like being in charge, don't you?" he asks, his voice slow and thick.
"Is that a problem?" She leans back against him while still undoing Gavin's belt, multitasking like she's orchestrating a business merger instead of... this.
"Not even a little," Asher murmurs against her neck, and I watch her shiver. His hands move to the clasp of her bra, and she arches to give him better access.
She turns to look at me. "You're overthinking things. I can see it on your face."
"I'mnot?—"
"Your jaw is doing that thing." She leaves Gavin and Asher and walks over to me, now in just her jeans and nothing else up top, her perky breasts swinging as she walks.
The sight of her makes my mouth go dry and all I can think is to get my hands on her. So I do, cupping her tits to take stock of their perfect shape.
She watches me marvel over her. "Stop planning and analyzing and just... feel."
"I don't know how to just feel," I respond, although I'm pretty goddamn close to losing my mind.
"Then I'll teach you." She starts unbuttoning my shirt, taking her time, her knuckles brushing against my chest with each button. "Lesson one—stop thinking about tomorrow."
"Easier said than done."
"Most things are." My shirt hits the floor. She runs her hands over my chest, nails dragging lightly. "Lesson two—trust me."
"I barely know you."
She grins. "You know I can't rope for shit. You know I talk to horses. You know I organize things when I'm stressed." Her hands move to my belt. "And you know I don't do anything halfway."
Gavin appears beside us, now completely naked and completely comfortable with it, pressing his erection against her back. "She's got a point, boss. When has she ever half-assed anything?"
"Including this," Asher adds, joining us, his shirtgone and his hands sliding around her waist from the side. "Look at her. She's running this like a CEO."
"A very naked CEO," Kenzie corrects, shimmying out of her jeans. "Or about to be. Little help?"
The next few minutes are a tangle of hands and mouths and what's left of our clothes hitting the floor. She directs us like a conductor with an orchestra, telling us exactly what she wants and when she wants it. Her confidence is intoxicating—there's no shyness, no hesitation, just pure want.
"Gavin, bed. Now." She points. "On your back."
"Yes, ma'am." He grins and complies, all golden skin and cowboy swagger even horizontal.
She climbs onto the bed, straddling him, then looks back at me and Asher. "Well? This is a group project, gentlemen."
"Did she just call us a group project, Trent?" Asher asks me.
