Page 7 of Claiming Cowboy
She thinks about it, then tells me about places in the city, but she doesn’t seem like she’s enjoying any of them. I gently brush her shoulder. “Something you like, not where you can be found, sunshine.”
She turns to look at me, watching from under her lashes. “I like calm places.” I get a real smile finally. “I like Aspenbrook a lot. Reading by a window, taking a walk on a nice day.”
“And how did you end up in a bakery rather than a model studio or working at a library?” I ask.
She gives me a look that says she’s not sure if I’m joking around. The longer she looks, though, the more her eyes heat and the more I want to pull her against me. Whatever fantasy she has playing in her head, I want to bring to life. Whatever she wants, I’m the man who will provide it.
She speaks in a soft, breathy voice, “I’m not model material.”
“You don’t like being in front of the camera?” I ask, then try to calm the lust that’s threatening to burst out of me. “Or is it that you don’t like taking orders?”
She shakes her head slightly, but adjusts her shirt.
“Maybe I haven’t been clear about how I see-”
Before I can finish she gasps and jerks away from the second tray she was handling. I grab it – bare handed – and toss it on the counter before I grab her wrist to look at her hand. She whimpers. “Sorry, I didn’t ... I should pay more attention.”
I memorize the feel of her velvety hand in mine. The echoes of sparks across my body that I feel every time I see her become an inferno. Letting her go is suddenly the worst thing I can think of.
Chapter 5 - Paige
I’ve been distracted, overwhelmed, dealing with Maya’s teasing about Ryder’s crush all week. He’s been forward in a shockingly cocky yet charming way that lingers in the air before he arrives and after he’s gone. He’s watched me like he’d rather devour me than the pie, like he’d rather taste me instead of any and every sweet I could offer him. He’s all but asked me on a full date, but in all that time, he’s never touched me like this, never been this close.
Nothing between us, no Maya watching from the corner of her eyes after giving us ‘space’, no customers or anyone else to distract us. Maya left to go home to Oliver early, talking about all the romantic things they were going to do and telling me I should do the same with Ryder, that I should chase what I feel and stop overthinking it.
Now that he’s touching me, panting, inspecting my hand like I’ve nearly cut it off instead of getting a soft burn, every bit of the desire, curiosity, and tenderness I feel towards him is practically screaming in my body. It demands some kind of release. Even my brain can’t say no. His consistency, the way he ignores the other woman who throw themselves at him ... it’s only me in hiseyes and he’s the only man that’s been in my head, my heart, or my dreams.
“Ryder,” I whimper when he leans forward and presses the softest kiss against my reddened skin. It’s so gentle it almost feels like he’s pulling the pain right out of me, leaving only a throbbing heat that pools low in my belly. “I… I’m okay. Really. Thank you for being so sweet, but… I’m okay.”
His eyes catch mine and deepen, soften, threaten to suck me in and never let go. I don’t even know if I’m still breathing. I’ve never seen him so soft, so warm, yet intense at the same time.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says, voice low and rough, the sound curling through me like smoke and heat.
A shiver tears through my body. My breath comes shallow, chest rising too fast, and I step closer to him, pulled in like there’s no choice left. “Then show me.”
Three words. That’s all it takes. All the long looks, the charged silences, the careful space between us—it all snaps like a live wire.
His mouth crashes down on mine, nothing soft about it now. It’s wild and hungry, like he’s been holding himself back for far too long and can’t anymore. His arm hooks tight around my waist, dragging me against him until my body molds to every hard line of his. The kiss isn’t just a kiss—it’s a claim, a confession, a breaking point.
The shock hits me like a punch, stealing my breath. I never imagined it would feel this intense, this overwhelming.
His hands are everywhere at once, but not careless—needy, reverent,starving.He palms over my hair, down my shoulders, my sides, his thumbs pressing into the soft curve of my hips like he’s trying to memorize me through touch alone. Each passof his hands is rougher, more desperate, stripping away the last thread of restraint he’s been clinging to. He mutters something against my mouth, low and wrecked, the words almost lost in the heat between us.
When our tongues meet, everything inside me melts and drops low, a pulse of pure need. I can feel how badly he wants me in every breath, every touch.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, setting me on the counter with a thud. His hands grip my thighs, pulling me flush against him, and the kiss deepens into something primal. I break away just enough to see his face—his eyes are darker, his jaw tight, like holding back another second might ruin him.
He tugs at the waist tie of my apron, yanking it loose and sliding it over my head in one fluid motion. His gaze rakes down my body, hungry and unrestrained, and when he groans, it’s guttural, like it’s being torn straight from his chest.
“You and these sundresses. I want to make it summer forever for you, sunshine,” he says as he looks me over.
I blush and start to cover up, but he catches my wrists gently and kisses them both. “I said you were the best view in Aspenbrook and I meant it. Those eyes, your smile, your body, the wayyoushine ... beyond compare. Please don’t deny me the view.”
Trembling, he pulls me closer to him and kisses me hungrily, deeply all while his hands worship every curve I have. First over my thighs, pushing my dress up so he can tug me to the edge of the counter and wrap my legs around his waist, then along my side, grabbing my ass and groaning openly.
“So fucking plush, soft, perfect,” he praises.
I whimper. “You’re so ...”
