Page 56 of My Cowboy Trouble
"Shut up and do it already."
So I do. And it's nothing like the desperate group kisses from the other night. This is just us, just me and her, and somehow that makes it more intense. She tastes like coffee and determination, and when she opens for me, I groan into her mouth.
"Hayloft," she gasps when we break apart. "Now."
"Bossy."
"You love it."
I do. I really fucking do.
We practically slide down the ladder, the other guys taking no notice of us, and the second we hit the hayloft, she's on me. Hands in my hair, mouth on my neck, body pressed against mine like she's trying to crawl inside my skin.
"Someone's eager," I tease, but my hands are already under her tank top, finding all that soft skin I've been thinking about.
"Shut up. I've been wanting this… since you caught me just now."
"Just since then? Princess, I've been wanting this since you locked your door last night. Do you know how hard it was to walk away?"
"Probably about as hard as you are right now," she says, her hand sliding down to cup me through my jeans.
"Fuck, Kenzie."
"That's the idea."
She pulls her tank top off in one smooth motion, and I forget how to speak. The afternoon sun streaming through the loft windows makes her skin glow. There are still faint marks from the other night—a bruise on her hip, a bite mark on her shoulder—and something primal in me wants to add more.
"You're staring," she says, working on my belt.
"You're gorgeous."
"You're still staring."
"I'm memorizing." I pull her against me, skin to skin. "Twenty-two days isn't enough time."
"Don't." She puts a finger to my lips. "Don't make this about leaving. Make it about right now."
So I do. I focus on right now—on the way she gasps when I kiss that spot just below her ear, the way her back arches when my hands find her breasts, the way she says my name like it's a blessing and a curse all at once.
"I want you," she breathes against my mouth. "Just you, right now. Is that okay?"
"More than okay." I back her against a hay bale, lifting her onto it. "It's fucking perfect."
Her jeans are impossibly tight, and we both laugh as I struggle to peel them off.
"Damn city girl jeans," I mutter.
"You love these jeans."
"I love what's in them more."
Finally, we're both naked, and I take a moment just to look at her. Hair wild, lips swollen, skin flushed with want. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"Gavin." She reaches for me. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Don't make me beg."
