Page 51 of 11 Cowboys

The aftershocks are still rippling through me, my pulse throbbing low and deep between my legs. My body feels both heavy and weightless all at once, like a balloon tied to a boulder. I’m still riding the edge of sleep and sensation, as the sharp ache of release tangles with the hot sting of mortification.

Oh. My. God.

I’ve managed to keep this weird quirk a secret. My secret slumbering orgasms that wake me up hot and wet between my thighs. All my pent-up desires come out through dreams rather than in my real life, at least before Levi cracked me open.

And now?

It’s Jaxon who knows what I do. Jaxon, who saw what I’ve never seen myself.

His chest is rising hard and fast, his eyes dark as coal, burning hot enough to set me on fire if he gets any closer. His hands are clenched at his sides like they want desperately to reach for me, but won’t.

I don’t know which of us is more horrified.

I don’t know which of us is more turned on.

The air between us feels heavy and saturated with everything we’re both pretending not to want. My heart pounds hard enough that I swear it must be audible. His silhouette fills the doorway, tense and motionless, like one wrong word will send him fleeing or hurtling toward me. The static that’s been simmering since the first moment I laid eyes on him has gone from a low hum to a deafening roar, loud enough that it drowns out reason. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want to be alone. Not with the ache still curling low in my belly and the memory of his eyes locked on me like I was too tempting to resist.

Slowly, without thinking, I stand, reaching for the hem of my shirt and dragging it over my head in one smooth pull. The fabric whispers across my skin and falls to the floor. My voice comes out low, soft, and steady.

“Close the door.”

The click of the door latch sounds louder than a gunshot in the stillness of the room.

I don’t breathe. I can’t.

Jaxon turns, and in two long strides, he’s in front of me. That same black fire burns behind his eyes as his fists clench at his sides like he’s fighting a losing battle.

And then he moves.

His hand fists in my hair as his mouth crashes against mine, brutal and consuming, erasing every inch of space that’s ever existed between us and fusing us brutally. I gasp, and he swallows the sound, teeth scraping my bottom lip, tongue demanding entrance.

The heat flares bright and sharp, wiping out thought, reason, everything except the hunger clawing at my skin, and I answer him with equal fury, dragging my nails down his back, tugging at the waistband of those goddamn flannel shorts like they’re the only thing standing between me and oxygen.

We pull at each other frantically. His calloused palmsfind my hips, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, slamming my back into the cool plaster wall with a grunt that’s half growl, half moan.

“Jesus,” I whisper against his neck, biting lightly, savoring the way he shudders under me.

Our legs tangle. My ankles lock around his waist. His hands slide up my thighs, hot and rough and reverent all at once.

I claw at his shoulders, lean my head back, and let the hunger take me under.

This is collision and combustion. We kiss like we hate each other for how badly we want this.

And still, I want more. I want what Levi gave me last night. To look into a man’s eyes as I lose all control of my body and mind.

I fumble blindly for the bed next to me, dragging him with me. We collapse onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs and sweat and gasping breaths. The weight of him over me, the heat of his skin, the way his mouth returns to mine like he can’t get enough is perfect. I arch against him shamelessly as his mouth trails down my neck, over my collarbone, teeth grazing, tongue soothing.

“Jaxon,” I pant, fingers digging into his hair.

He groans low in his chest like the sound of his name on my lips, tears at a loose thread inside him.

His mouth closes around one tight, aching nipple, and I nearly come undone right there. My hips buck involuntarily against his thigh. He pins me with a hand to my hip, holding me still as he worships every inch of skin he can reach.

“Please,” I gasp, the word escaping before I can stop it.

That word undoes him.

His flannel shorts are gone in seconds, kicked away and forgotten. His mouth finds mine again, crushing, messy, full of teeth and tongue and everything we’ve both been choking back. I claw at his back, pulling him closer, needing him inside me.