Page 10 of My Apocalypse Cowboy
"Trust me."
The first raindrops fall without warning.
One second the sky is clear. The next, it opens up like someone flipped a switch.
"Barn!" I shout, already running.
Rebecca sprints beside me. By the time we stumble through the door, we're both soaked through.
She's laughing, breathless, water streaming down her face. Her shirt is plastered to her body. I force myself to look away while I grab towels from the supply cabinet.
"Here." I hold one out.
She takes it, our fingers brushing. The contact sends heat up my arm.
We dry off in silence. The air between us feels charged, dangerous. Three days of careful distance, and now we're trapped in here together with nothing but the sound of rain hammering the roof.
"Joseph," she says softly.
I look at her. Her hair's dripping, her shirt clinging to curves I've been trying not to think about. She's staring at me with an expression I recognize because I've been wearing it for three days.
Want. Need. The same hunger that made her reach for my belt before she pushed me away.
"Yeah?"
She crosses the space between us in three steps and kisses me.
No hesitation this time. No pulling back. Just her mouth on mine, urgent and sure, like she's made a decision and this is it.
I respond instantly, backing her against the supply cabinet, my hands finding her waist. She makes that sound again—the little gasp that's been haunting my dreams—and I deepen the kiss.
Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders, into my hair. When she tugs, I groan against her mouth.
"Touch me," she whispers.
I don't need to be told twice.
My hands slide under her wet shirt, finding warm skin. She arches into my touch, her breath catching. I palm her ribs, her sides, learning the shape of her while rain drums overhead.
Somewhere in the fumbling urgency, shirts come off. Her hands explore my bare chest while I kiss down her neck, her collarbone. When I cup her breast, she moans into my mouth.
"Joseph—"
I take her nipple in my mouth and she gasps, her back arching off the cabinet. I work her with my tongue while my hand finds her other breast, and the sounds she makes are better than anything I imagined.
Her hands fumble with my belt.
This time I don't stop her.
The buckle gives way. Her hand slides inside my jeans, wrapping around me through my boxers, and I see stars.
"Jesus, Rebecca—"
A crash of thunder directly overhead makes us both jump.
The lights flicker once, twice, then die completely.
The barn plunges into darkness except for the occasional flash of lightning through the cracks.
