Stripped Down (14 page)

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Authors: Anne Marsh

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Stripped Down
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“Goddamn it, yes, Rose.”

She nods. Of course, she just got what she wanted. Twice. I’m the one who’s wrung out and who has blue balls and
feelings
. “No more talking. Not now. Let’s just dance.”

I swing her around, holding her in my arms. Taking a long second to savor the heat and scent of my woman. This time, I lower my mouth slowly. My first kiss is no more than a warm brush of my lips against her closed mouth. Her skin feels so fucking soft beneath mine. There’s no other explanation for what I say next. Not like she’s torturing me or holding me hostage. I’ve starred in both those shit scenarios, and there’s everything right about this dance.

“You’re perfect, darling,” I whisper.

Because it’s so true, it hurts. Rose is goddamned perfect and I’d have to be blind not to see it.

I kiss her again, harder and deeper. Wrap my arms around her, pulling her up against me until I feel every inch of her. When our kiss grows hotter, she slides her hands up my arms, locking her fingers behind my neck and pulling me down in to her as she meets me touch for touch in a blaze of sweet heat. For once, my body and my head are in agreement about what comes next. I’m taking her home.

I’m making her mine.

ROSE

I’m crazy.

Or I’m weak.

Possibly both.

Because right now I’m ready to give Angel whatever he wants and you don’t
ever
give a man like him free rein.
This could be what love feels like
, I realize. Except that I know the emotions Angel stirs in me have much more to do with my pussy than with my heart. Angel’s a big, hard-ass cowboy, and teasing him, trying to control him is stupid.

He’s going to own me.

And I don’t care… Angel stares at me, eyes dark with the most delicious emotions, and he’s at least a little bit mine right now. He said so himself.

He danced with me in the rain.

“Let’s go back to the ranch,” I whisper and then I tug the door open and scramble inside. It’s not dignified, but I’m happy and laughing. Angel doesn’t smile enough. Sometimes I smile too much. Maybe that makes us good for each other? At the very least we balance each other out.

He goes around and climbs into the truck, turning the engine on and reaching for the heater switch. Warm air fills the cab and I shiver at the contrast.

“You should take that stuff off.” Angel indicates my clothes with a flick of his finger.

Uh-huh. Nice try. “You think riding back to the ranch naked is wise?”

His eyes darken. “I’d enjoy the hell out of it, darling, but I was offering a trade.”

He holds out his T-shirt and then fishes a wash-worn flannel out of the truck’s narrow back seat.

Okay then.

I strip off. Bad idea or not, I’m making Angel
mine
. I want it all: this life, these mountains, and this man. He watches me shimmy out of my wet clothes and I know he likes what he sees, but that’s the outside me. He doesn’t know what I’m like inside, doesn’t know the secrets I have. I curl up against Angel, soaking in his heat and strength.

He’s got secrets of his own, shadows he doesn’t tell anyone about. Based on what I saw at that cattle station, his water situation is dire. When people talk about how the
weight of the world is on his shoulders
? That’s the way Angel looked, staring at his pump and his empty trough. It’s more than his need to be in control of everyone and everything. He wants to keep everyone safe, but he’s only one man. I can’t witch water for him and my rain dancing won’t make the clouds open up. There’s nothing I can do but help him forget. Make him smile.

I keep my panties on, though, because I’m not sneaking into the ranch house commando.

He guides the truck back onto the road. “I’m just gonna take those back off you.”

“And I’m not going to mind.”

I’m not going to overthink this afternoon. I want Angel Mendoza to strip me down and screw me until all I can think about is him. He’ll make it good while it lasts because he doesn’t do anything halfway—and, if I’m his, he’ll take care of me.

Like he does his brothers, the ranch, and the goddamned waterless cattle. He watches out for everybody and everything, but I suspect there’s no one watching out for him. Nobody who’s seen him dancing in the rain, two-stepping with a girl he barely knows because she thinks it’s fun and he’ll give her whatever he can.

When he’s not busy being an asshole, he might actually be likeable.

“I don’t have much experience at relationships.” Honestly? I have none. Bubkis. I’m a relationship virgin. On the other hand? I know how to improvise.

I curl up with my head on his thigh, my fingers stroking the inside of his knee. If I turn just a little, my mouth will brush against the monster erection he’s sporting.

He drives faster. “Got it. Orgasms, not emotions.”

I didn’t realize he was taking orders. “Okay.”

It’s a deal. Never mind that I kind of want to protest, to ask for both. I’m also pretty certain we’re lying to each other. We’re in over our heads here and there are so many feelings filling up the truck’s cab that we’re choking on them.

ANGEL

“L
ast chance.” The pickup roars beneath the hand-lettered sign announcing Blackhawk Ranch. Usually, when I drive beneath that sign, I can’t stop the little flare of pride. No fucking reason to hold back or bottle up that particular feeling. My daddy did his best to run our place into the ground after our mama died, but I held on. My brothers and I made the sign ourselves, burning each letter into the wood, one by one. Would have branded each other too, but that wasn’t practical.

The sign means there’s half a mile left until I have Rose where I want her. Under me. In my bed. My dick tunneling deep into her pussy. When I turn and look her over, to see if I’ve scared her off or if she’s ready to run, she watches me back. She looks hungry.

“You’re not getting off that easy, cowboy. If you’ve got cold feet, let me know.” Curling her legs up on the seat, she leans into me. She’s wearing my dry T-shirt and I’ve turned the heater on, soaking the cab in warmth. Her hair curls wildly as it dries and I put a hand on her leg. It’s stupid, but I need to touch her now, even though I can see the house up ahead. Two more minutes, and I’ll have her home.

Home
. She returned to Lonesome, probably expecting to inherit a place of her own. Instead, she’s getting half a ranch that she can’t possibly afford. I could fix it up for her, but I’m fairly certain she’d knee me in the balls. Plus, I need that water. Fixing up a house and then immediately bulldozing it makes no sense. We should talk about this. I should explain about the water. And then she’d have something to hold over my head, which wouldn’t end well for me.

I’m no angel.

“There’s nothing cold about me, darling.” I grin as I throw the pickup into park. I love winning, and that’s the truth.

“So,” she asks, leaning toward me before I can get my hand on the door. “Are you still mad at me for making you wait so long for me to get here?”

If we sit here too long, half the house will be out to see what’s up. I don’t want an audience for what I have in mind.

“You did take months,” I drawl.

“I thought about taking more,” she admits.

I close my hand over hers, tugging her close for a quick, hard kiss. Screw the potential audience. At some point, they’re all gonna find out. “Why didn’t you?”

She kisses me back even as she smiles. Fuck, but her smile lights up her face. When her tongue traces my bottom lip, I’m seriously afraid I won’t be able to walk into the house.

“I got laid off,” she tells me. “Lost my job and couldn’t keep up with my expenses, so I figured it was smarter to come back here now, where I have the house, even if I can’t afford to fix up the tattoo shop yet.”

Starting a business is hard work, and it generally requires large amounts of cash. It’s like feeling your way across quicksand, not knowing where the danger ends and the fucking happily ever after starts. It’s not that I don’t think she can do it—Rose can do whatever she sets her heart on, with the possible exception of this relationship crap she’s interested in starting with me—but this isn’t the right time or place. She needs to learn to pick her battles. I should know. I’ve spent most of my life here, working my ass off to keep the place going. Ranching sucks the life out of good men who’ve poured themselves, heart and soul, into their places. My Rose is so alive—I don’t want to see that joy drain away.

“I would have come for you,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t have let you stay away from me forever.”

“Promises,” she said lightly, but I recognize the hunger in her eyes as she shifts away from me, already reaching for the door. She’s always been impatient, never able to wait. Honestly, I’m looking forward to making her do some waiting now. “You want to spank me, Angel, for misbehaving?”

Hell, now
there
’s an image to make a man think twice. I can see her, her delicious little ass all cherry-pink while I heat her butt just a bit. Just before I kiss it all better.

We need to get inside now. Even I can’t fuck her in the driveway outside the house where anyone can see us.

Getting out of the truck, I come around the side. For once, she waits, her hand on the edge of the door. Not for me to open it but for me to take charge of the moment. I need my ass kicked for the satisfaction that floods me. She’s
mine
. I’m also damned tired of being two steps behind her. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look hesitant, though. Usually, Rose moves through life like she knows precisely where she’s going and what she wants. Shit’s changing between us, though, and clearly she knows it.

So I’ll just have to convince her that
this
change is a good one. Once I have her in my arms, I’ll show her precisely how things have changed for the better between us. I’ll show her just how good we can be together.

Pulling open her door and reaching in for her, I swing her up into my arms. She’s barefoot, after all. Barefoot and wearing nothing but my too-long shirts and the panties she refused to drop. I need to change her mind and fast, because I am dying here.

ROSE

Angel scoops me up in his arms and I let him. He’s still shirtless, because I’ve absconded with his clothes, but jeans, boots, and his Stetson are a good look for him. He could be posing for the cover of a book or a Cowboy McHottie calendar. I’m definitely enjoying my view as he reaches for me. Broad shoulders, a rough dusting of hair on his chest, and so many muscles and scrumptious places to explore on his midsection… I’m not sure where to start when I get him alone, but I’ve got a long, long list of potential spots. I’d swear the man has an eight-pack and right now I’m happy to borrow him.

“A girl could get used to this.” I loop my arms around his neck, pressing my face against his skin and dragging him deeper inside me with each breath I take. Man and outdoors, leather and sage. God, he smells good. I’m going to need a twelve-step plan to get over him when we part ways, because Angel is addictive.

He pushes the truck door shut with one booted foot, and then we head into the house just like this, him carrying me as if I’m the bride in a story. I’m not one for marriage or fantasies, but it’s kind of fun, provided we can make it to his room unseen. I’m not shy, but I also don’t want to share this moment with anyone else. And Angel comes with plenty of someone elses, including those brothers of his.

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