Page 47
Story: Breaking the Cowboy's Rules
She reached out and took his hand. “I’d like that, Bodhi. I don’t deserve it, but I’d like to know the real you, and I wish…I want to share the real me, at least what I think is real. I’m not so sure who I am anymore.”
The horses had stopped. She held his hand up to his cheek again. It was the sweetest thing. She’d done it earlier after he’d orgasmed her. He’d been floored by her uninhibited response. Turned on but oddly proud that he’d brought her such pleasure without expecting anything in return. He felt privileged to have experienced it with her. Instead of wanting her to touch him or to keep the party going, he’d wanted to savor the moment.
It had felt sacred.
God, how Beck would laugh to even know Bodhi knew that word, much less had experienced it.
Bodhi found himself in a weird headspace. Contemplative and protective. He’d been feeling off-balance since Nico had held his hand tenderly and kissed his knuckles like he’d mattered—not just the sex. It cut deep that he couldn’t remember having any similar reaction after sex before.
Not that you’ve ever stuck around long enough to induce one.
“Maybe who you were doesn’t matter as much as who you want to be,” he returned to her earlier comment. Someone had really done a number on her, and while he wanted to respect her privacy just as he wanted her to respect his, he wished he could clobber the dumbass or dumbasses who’d hurt her.
“What’s so funny?”
“Me wanting to be a white knight.” He didn’t think to deflect, wanting to be real with her, wondering if her list of improv rules could be a guide to…wait, what was he thinking? This getting to know Nico was for Granddad, for Beck and Ashni. Pretend.
Only it felt more real than anything had in a long time—even before the letter from a dead man.
Maybe it can be for me too.
“I can see you slaying dragons,” she said. “You slayed one today.” She dipped her head, and he saw a faint blush of pink high on her cheeks.
“I…I wasn’t really into sex,” she confessed in a rush. “I liked the idea of it, but it just seemed to complicate everything and be so awkward. And I wasn’t…hmmm, how to put this…pulling at the bit—” she laughed a little at the reins in her hands “—to jump into bed with anyone I knew or dated. And when I did, it was just meh, and I felt so bored and disappointed. And after a few experiences, I realized it was on me. I was the common denominator, and I hate to be bad at something.”
He pulled up on Cash, and his left boot heel tapped to turn Cash around so that they were side by side.
“I don’t know what kind of half-dead men you’ve been dragging home,” he said, spearing his hand into her long thick braid that she’d redone after she’d come undone in his arms. “But the meh sex is definitely on every one of them.”
“You don’t know that.”
His fingers bit into her scalp a little as he angled her head so that he could kiss her.
She met him, plump lips parting, tongue tangling more than halfway, making a sweet sound of surrender that jacked him up from semihard to aching in less than a breath. He continued to kiss her, his core temperature rising along with his desire. He broke the kiss when Midnight flexed and danced a little sideways. His grip tightened over her hands on the reins to remind Midnight who was boss.
Her breathing was fractured, and her luscious breasts that he’d only begun to explore this afternoon and was longing to expose and play with and taste rose up, tempting, as she tried to calm down.
“You kiss like fire,” he said. “And I want to burn. Boring sex was definitely on the men.”
“We’ll have to see.” She winked and, tapping on Midnight’s flanks, she took off at a full gallop.
Damn, she kept him on his toes.
And she looked like a pagan goddess on the back of Midnight galloping away from him. From the moment she’d mounted up, it had been clear she was comfortable on a horse, and didn’t that just make her more appealing and, honestly, hotter.
He gave chase and indicated that he wanted her to follow. He’d initially thought to take her to Plum Hill—it was the best view of the ranch, but the Ballantyne Bash was held there each year, and he and his cousins had been working there for most of the morning and afternoon to prepare for the party, so he wasn’t sure if either Bowen or Beck would still be there.
He wanted to be alone with Nico, learn what she liked, prove to her she was sexy and desirable.
He led her farther into the northern section of the ranch where the elevation rose, but there were also a few hot springs that bubbled out of the ground and over some boulders to join the creek. They dismounted.
“That felt amazing.” Nico patted Midnight’s long neck. “It’s been a few years,” she confessed, eyes shining. “Far too long. I wish I had a treat for him.”
Bodhi pulled out a carrot and apple slice from his pocket and handed them to her.
“So that’s what cowboys hide in their pockets.” She smiled at him, and he felt like the sun, which was definitely beginning its downward slide to dip below the mountains in the west. “Are you hiding anything else useful in there?”
“Maybe.” He slipped a few treats to Cash. Then he faced her, hands out from his sides. “You’ll have to do a search,” he invited.
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