Page 18 of For Cowgirls and Kings

But how I wish it did.

Which is exactly how I ended up here. With a man who looks nothing like him. And no doubt behaves just as opposite in and out of the bedroom—like everything is new and exciting and beautiful. He’s too sunny and positive, but for now that’ll have to do.

Because he’s sitting on my couch, looking at me like a puppy dog waiting to be pet, and as dirty as it makes me feel, I’m inclined to oblige him.

I clear my voice and walk into the small living room, hoping I look more confident and assertive than I currently feel. “Yeah, it’s not much.”

He smiles widely at me, his clean face crinkling around light blue eyes. “It’s cute, just like you.”

I bite my lip to keep from snorting. Is that his idea of flirting? Is that what we’re doing?

It’s two in the morning, Dale, and you’ve invited him to your house for a sleepover. That’s exactly what he thinks is happening here.

“Um, thanks. Hey, do you want anything to drink?” I bite my lip again, hating how insecure I sound. His hand reaches out, grabbing lightly at my thigh, pulling me toward him on the couch. I let him pull me in, sinking onto his lap, my hands on his chest, my legs straddling his.

His large hand brushes the side of my face, and I close my eyes leaning into his touch. If my eyes are closed, I can pretend his blonde mullet is black and combed back. I can pretend his perfectly smooth face is covered in dark stubble, and his thin pink lips are plump and permanently turned down in a light frown. I can pretend his muscular arms are covered in dark tattoos and scars from working a ranch, instead of a light film of blonde hairs.

If I keep my eyes closed, I can pretend.

“What do you want Dale?” He sounds breathless, and a little insecure himself, his voice quivering. And something about eliciting that reaction from him sends a bolt of heady power through me, landing like a rock in my stomach. I ache, and if I keep my eyes closed, maybe he can finally be the one to cure the dull throb I always carry with me.

“Kiss me.” It’s a demand, my voice harsh and needy, and he complies, without a breath for me to reconsider what I’m doing.

As his lips hit mine, I pinch my eyes closed tighter. His lips, soft and thin, remind me I am, in fact, just pretending here. And with a sinking feeling, I know nothing we might do wouldsatisfy me the way I need. Even in a room surrounded by darkness, and a mask over my eyes.

There’s no pretending my way out of this one.

His lips slant, tongue spearing into my mouth, and he groans. His hands roam down my back, gripping my ass and pulling me closer to his chest. His hard dick is straining against the thick denim of his jeans. It rubs against my aching core, and I know if I start rubbing on him, I might just be able to finish. Just like this.

But that feels too pathetic. Even for me.

So I kiss him, or rather allow him to kiss me, for several beats.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” His words fan across my neck as he bends forward, peppering my throat with wet kisses.

“Mhm,” I mumble, making sure to keep my eyes closed.

“What do you like? What can I do? Please, tell me.” His words send a thrill through me. So eager to please me, and I can’t say I don’t like the idea.

“Keep kissing me.” My voice is a hoarse whisper.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

That makes me groan, and I start to rock my hips,just a little.Why can’t I come like this?Who cares—right?His body, mouth, or personality might not do it for me. But his words—they’re scratching an itch I keep buried deep inside.

Fuck it.

I open my eyes, and slide my hands through his hair, yanking at the blonde strands to pull his face back. His pupils consume the blue around them, his eyes glassy with desire, mouth swollen. He’s panting beneath me, his hands still stroking my back and ass like he just can’t help himself.

“Good boys must be trained. They don’t get rewarded on the first trick. Do youunderstand me?”

His eyes blow wider, and he instantly nods. I yank harder on his hair and he groans again, eyes fluttering shut. I lower my lips to his Adam's apple, licking at the column of his corded throat, biting and sucking as I go.

“Fuck, I’ll be such a good boy.”

“You’re going to make me come, that’s your first task,” I whisper the filthy words in his ear, and he shivers, his hands pinching into me. I’m driving him crazy, and I’ve never felt better about it.

“Yes, fuck yes. I’ll do anything you ask me to do.” His words are strangled, eyes still pinched closed.