Page 5 of Rough Cowboy
His gentle hand skims my bare middle. Lately, the sunshine has me wet as a thunderstorm, but this hot cowboy does not affect me. Not sexually, anyway. He wins my heart for the sweetest cowboy I know.
“Hey, little guy,” he says.
“Or little girl.”
He grins at me. “I’m excited for either. And nervous.” His smile drops. “I didn’t know I could be this nervous. Staying on a bull for eight seconds doesn’t even come close to how fucking nervous I feel.”
“I’d be nervous, too.” Silver Wilde saunters into my bedroom, all cocky and arrogant, without knocking or asking or giving a shit that he didn’t do either.
The rugged cowboy is all sexy and gorgeous in that rough and surly way that makes a woman want him to fuck her against a wall. My heart speeds up like it does every time I see him. My middle warms, and my core tingles in a hate/fuck way.
No. That’s my hormones. They’re also a hot mess. Everything about me is a hot mess.
Silver leaves the door open for anyone passing by to get a glimpse of the mama-to-be battling a meltdown.
“If I hadn’t been thrown off a bull all those years ago, and the doctor told me my swimmers were few and far between, I’d be shittin’ my pants, too.” Silver tilts his head, so the brim of his Stetson exposes his hungry gaze.
He brazenly drags his hungry gaze down my body from top to bottom and up again.
His eyebrows draw together. “You gained a bit of weight, Els.”
Sammy smacks his chest. “She’s pregnant. Don’t be an asshat.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” I’m lucky charm is a fixed feature on Silver’s face, so he doesn’t give away the secret hookups between us.
Not that we’ve hooked up since I moved to Whiskey Ridge Creek. But before that, the alluring look he casts my way now would promise a booty call in the closest private space—and sometimes not that secret.
“I’ve always liked voluptuous curves and hauling a nice rounded ass into the air to pin against a wall.” His tongue wets his lower lip.
Wetness pools in my panties, and I force myself to snap out of wanting to fuck the shit out of him.
“I am practically naked,” I snap. “Have respect. Be a gentleman.” I hide behind Sammy and pull the dress over my body.
“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t already seen,” Silver says.
“Don’t remind me.” The fabric muffles my voice.
“Don’t rush to dress on my part.” Silver’s thick southern drawl does all kinds of wonderful and naughty things to my insides. “We could reprise the last time the three of us were together.”
Things it’s not supposed to do, yet every time I hear his voice, I can’t seem to rid the lust that pulses through my body.
Purely lust.
I’m not a traditional girl looking for my one true love to grow old together. I prefer one-time flings with the promise of never seeing the person again.
I yank the dress down, wiggle it over my tender breasts, and adjust the stretchy part around my stomach before stepping around Sammy. “No.”
I wish Silver, and I had been a one-time fling. Sex followed by that awkwardness of dodging each other moving forward. Instead, my post-Silver attempts at a humping expedition with any guy who wasn’t Sammy’s brother ended with me smashing-n-dashing the rough cowboy. I can’t seem to say no to him. And rough he is.
Rough.
Thrilling.
Tempting.
Tantalizing.
All the reasons he would make a terrible father.
