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“I was working,” he tells me with a shrug like it explains everything before aiming his gaze down the length of his ink-covered torso. Looking up at me, he gives me a crooked grin that makes my knees wobble, even while my palm itches with the urge to slap it off his face. “Technically, I’m more like mostly naked, as opposed to half...” He skirts the couch to make his way toward me at a slow, leisurely pace like he knows just how flustered I really am and he thinks it’s funny. “And this isn’t morning wood, Sunshine.” He gives me another smirky little half smile on his way past me, headed for the staircase. “This is a real life, bonafide, holy shit hard-on... and I hate to break it to you, but you were most definitely staring."
THIRTEEN
Wentworth
I smelled her. knew she was there, before I even opened my eyes. It sounds weird and borderline creepy but there it is. Horse and hay. Cool air and clean dirt mixed with something soft and intoxicatingly feminine. The smell of her hit me like a truck and that’s all it took. I was so hard it hurt before I even opened my eyes.
And then I did open my eyes to find her staring at it, mouth slightly parted, bright blue eyes wide and blazing down at me with a strange mix of anger, frustration and good, old-fashioned lust. I consider it a God-given miracle that I was able to stop myself from reaching out to pull her down on top of me so she could feel, firsthand, what I caught her staring at.
Instead of getting her under me, I played with my dick and embarrassed the shit out her while she hurtled insults at me. While I consider it a win, I don’t think Damien will agree if Ranch Girl decides to tattle on me.
Determined to figure out a way to apologize, yet again, for being me, I find the master suite at the end of the hall where I dumped my stuff last night. Digging a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of my duffle, I hit the shower where I give brief consideration to the merits of jerking off. Deciding against it because I barely know this girl and rubbing one out while she’s in the same house feels risky and more than just borderline creepy. It’s bad enough that she found me on her couch, mostly naked and rock hard. Doesn’t matter that I paid a small fortune for the privilege, I promised my brother I’d behave. That means no matter what my dick obviously wants, Ranch Girl is strictly off limits.
You didn’t come to the Montana sticks to get your dick wet. You came here to ride out the shitstorm Lexi tossed in your lap—now get it the fuck together and act like someone with some goddamned sense raised you.
Resolve fortified, I concentrate my efforts on scrubbing away the last day and a half. Clean and feeling like I’m back on solid ground, I get dressed and head back downstairs.
It’s barely 6AM but she’s already set up at the kitchen island, camped out in one of the stools, surrounded by books and notepads. A laptop that looks older than I am open in front of her, earbuds jammed into her ears to fend off the ambient noise so she can work without distraction. Golden brown hair piled on top of her head and secured with a pencil, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth in concentration while she writes something down in her notebook. And just like that, my dick and I are right back where we started.
Shit.
When she catches me watching her in her peripheral at the base of the stairs, her cheeks flush, even before she flicks a quick, guarded look in my direction, her eyes graze over the ink running down the side of my neck before falling to the tattoo on my forearm. Chewing nervously on the inside of her lip, she looks back to her computer screen. Again, if she recognizes it or me, she doesn’t show it.
“I made coffee if that’s your thing,” she says without bothering to pull her earbuds loose. “Half and half is in the fridge. Cups are in the cabinet to the left of the sink.” Eyes still glued to her laptop, while she writes something else in a completely different notebooks—this one has a dark blue cover—she dismisses me completely.
Opening the cabinet she indicated, I pull out one of the large ceramic mugs stacked neatly inside. Filling it with coffee, I forgo the half and half to turn around and lean against the counter directly across from her. Drinking my coffee, I stand here and watch her work, mentally drawing her, sketching out the lines and angles of her face in my head, until she finally reaches up to pull one of her earbuds loose to scowl at me in obvious frustration. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
I flatten my mouth and give her a headshake. “Nope.”
“Alright...” My answer ratchets her frustration up to full-blown annoyance. She goes back to studying but it only lasts for a minute or two before she gives up to scowl at me instead. “Is there a reason you’re standing there, staring at me?”
Damn, she’s even hotter when she’s annoyed.
Fighting off a grin, I give her a shrug. “Just returning the favor.” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. Gorgeous, smells amazing, and she knows how to make a cup of coffee.
I am in so much fucking trouble.
“Fair enough.” She gives me a jerky nod, cheeks blazing while she tries to refocus her attention on whatever’s happening on her laptop. Every once in a while, she chances a quick guarded look in my direction to see if I’m still watching her.
I am.
When one of those quick, guarded glances grazes across the front of my jeans, the grin I’ve been fighting back, finally breaks free. “I told you it would go away on its own... eventually.”
Her mouth falls open in shock for a moment before she snaps it closed. “Okay.” Gaze narrowed and jaw clenched, she yanks the other earbud loose. “Obviously, this isn’t going to work.” Closing her laptop, she stands up to start jamming her books and notebooks back into her bag. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning to pick up and to see if—”
Shit, she’s leaving.
“Wait.” Before I know what I’m doing, the coffee is down and I’m across the kitchen. “I’m—”
“a complete and total asshole and you just agreed to let me work here to make your brother happy,” she says, shoving her laptop into her backpack before zipping it up. “Yup—I got that, loud and clear.”
“You sure do like that word, don’t you?” I say the same thing she said to me yesterday when I wouldn’t stop saying fuck. When I see the corner of her mouth twitch, I take a chance and reach out to drop a hand on top of her bag to stop her from picking it up. “I was going to say sorry but yeah, that too.” When she doesn’t answer me, or slap the shit out of me, I keep talking. “Truth is, after my stellar first impression yesterday, Damien told me nevermind. That he didn’t want you anywhere near me so, I don’t think you being here now would make him particularly happy.”
That gives her pause. Probably because she thinks there’s something about me that Damien failed to mention that she should be afraid of, other than the fact that I like to play with my dick in front of strange women while I’m half asleep. Because I’m beginning to suspect that there’s plenty about me that this woman should be wary of, I change the subject, hoping to distract her. “I called my sister last night and then fell asleep on the porch—”
“I know.” Her brow furrows and she risks a look up at me. “I was here.” I must looked as confused as I feel because she gives me a look that says she thinks I might be crazy. “I woke you up.” She swallows hard and looks at the front door behind her. “I thought you were going to throw me off the porch, you were so angry.” When I don’t say anything, her frown deepens into a scowl. “You don’t remember?”
“No.” I shake my head slowly stomach suddenly scraping the bottom of my feet. “I don’t remember. Did I scare you?” Stupid question—of course I scared her. I’m roughly the size of a bus. Before I can apologize and try to explain, she unzips her backpack and pulls out a large can, the shape and size of a small fire extinguisher.