Page 6 of Winter Wishlist
“I’m sensing a theme here.” Cowboy doesn’t give me much to go on in his voice, but I’m also too busy hyperventilating to properly take notice of his reaction to my selection of titles.
My cheeks feel hot enough to roast marshmallows over. “Maybe.” I squeak. The theme being I’m a slut for a filthy gang-bang.
“Monsters?” He taps the top one prominently featuring a half-naked woman being ravished by two obscenely muscular gargoyles wearing ice skates and hockey uniforms.
“Umm. Yeah.Monsters.” Glad we’re going to awkwardly skip over the part about the fact that my entire stack is about double penetration.
Braving a glance up, I peer at his books. Oh, god. They’re artsy and awfully serious. The top one has an incredible full color rendition, complete with foiling, ofWoman in Gold.
“So was it the monsters who left you searching for the floor, or something else?” His question is soft-edged. There’s a sweetness there I certainly wouldn’t have expected fromsomeone who looks like he could toss a calf over one shoulder, while carrying a hay bale in the other with ease. Or… you know… doing something of that nature with a woman.
Not that I’m letting my mind go straight to the gutter. It’s not as if I took one look and instantly imagined this giant man tossing me around.
“Something else.” For some reason, the words come out all breathy.
His tongue slowly drags along his bottom lip as he quietly looks me over, and I quite possibly let out a whimper.
Evidently, I live in the gutter now. Call me gutter rat.
“Doessomething elsehave anything to do with what’s on your phone there, sugar?” His immaculate jaw tilts, nodding in the direction of the screen—it remains lit up, showing off my ex and his brand-new fiancée. You couldn’t miss the size of that sparkler from space.
“On a scale ofpathetictorun away as fast as you can, how embarrassing would it be to admit to that?”
Those perfect lips of his curve into a smile. Not pitying, not judging me, no. Something in this man’s energy and his willingness to stay here on the floor, simply talking, is so unbelievably sweet and tender. I really can’t let myself go reading into it.
The way he rubs his hand over the back of his neck again is a little bashful, a whole lot of endearing, and I mentally scold myself to stop straight up ogling him as if I’ve never seen a cowboy before.
Even though I’m fairly sure I’ve never seen anyone quite likehimbefore.
“Nothing to be feeling any sort of way about from how I see it.” He rumbles the words, and a flurry of goosebumps runs down my arms in response. “My opinion might not mean anything, but I think you’re better off with someone who wouldrather be in a bookstore with you than feel like they need to flash a tacky ring for the world to see.”
I can’t help but let out a laugh. “It really is tacky, isn’t it?” Glancing down at my phone, I make a face. “Well, how’s this for a fun holiday development. In breaking news: He’s my ex. We broke up barely three months ago. And here’s the real kicker… I just found out via the wonders of social media that he’s already moved on fast enough to propose to someone five minutes ago.” I shrug and peer back up at his lovely, kind amber eyes. “…Aaaannndwe’re all staying at the same place on Mistwood Ranch. Guess that’s my rotten Christmas luck.”
Maybe this is my punishment. Perhaps it’s all I deserve, the nagging, intrusive thoughts at the back of my mind pipe up.
“Sugar, it sounds like you dodged a bullet.” He clicks his tongue and gives a small shake of his head. “A man like that, who can’t appreciate what he’s got, isn’t worth your time, or attention.”
Why does one little word have so much power over my body?Sugar.Just hearing the tiniest term of endearment from a stranger feels like being wrapped in a warm embrace. The kind I’d really like to experience from someone like him. Having arms like that wrapped around me, swallowing me up, and making me feel safe?
Sigh. This man is going to unknowingly feature as the headline act in my private fantasies for a long, long time.
“He always did love to flash the cash, if you know what I mean. One of those guys who thought money was the be-all and end-all. Used to think it would impress me, but it didn’t—it doesn’t. After a while, I guess he realized I wasn’t prepared to bepurchased, so he obviously moved on. And rapidly too, so it turns out.”
Cowboy’s brows pull together, a strange sort of expression flickering behind his eyes. He looks all set to say something, then appears to change his mind.
“Feeling ready to get back on your feet?” he enquires, with all the chivalrous country charm that leaves my thighs subtly squeezing together.
“Yeah. I think so.” My hesitant smile hides all sorts of wickedly tempting thoughts running through my mind.
Are you even real?
What cowboy planet were you beamed in from?
Where do you find shirts to fit a chest your size, and can I climb inside it with you?
“Let’s get you up off the floor, huh?”
One of those giant hands extends my way, gripping my elbow to help steady me as I awkwardly get to my feet. “I suppose the heroes in my books never spend more time obsessed with their share portfolio than their girlfriend. These monsters never let me down.” Giving my skirt a quick tug to make sure I’m not continually flashing him, the exhale comes out of me, followed by a new flush of heat flaming my cheeks to five-alarm fire levels.
