Page 73 of Saving the Rain
Aren’t you too busy for chit-chat? Thought you were Mr. Serious Rancher. All work and no play.
Raine sends a photo in lieu of a reply straight away. It’s taken on horseback, looking down at the dark mane and almost bluish hue of Mist from his spot in the saddle.
That sends a bolt of bright sparks straight through me, that not only is he spending time talking with me like this, but he’s carrying his phone around checking notifications immediately, even though, from the looks of it, he’s riding out to check on the cattle at this very moment.
Which is what I should be doing, but it’s pointless taking my phone with me.
A sudden thought of how much easier it would be if I dropped him off one of our spare radio units slides in... and I have to quickly shake off that ridiculous notion. What the hell would Raine want that for? He’s not gonna be carrying around a radio just so he can hear my voice. Christ, I really have plunged into dangerously besotted waters and need to abort mission immediately.
I’m excellent at multitasking.
As soon as I see those words, my cock stirs, and my stomach clenches. Because all I can think of is how it felt in the shower when he was cleaning us up after setting the charges to detonate my entire world apart... after fucking me senseless and watching me disappear into an orgasm the likes of which I could never have imagined was possible.
He’d insisted on being the one to do everything in the showerafterand I was nothing more than a boneless thing propped up against the wall, watching him from behind heavy eyelids, with cartoon hearts floating in woozy circles around my head.
He kept batting my hands away if I tried to help with the soap or to make a feeble effort to clean him in return. Instead, growling at me with that sinfully sexy command to his voice. All,let me do this for youandturn around, put your hands on the wall.Before I knew it, he was indeed multitasking until I couldn’t stop shaking, with strong hands stroking me from in front and behind again, and oh dear fuck, I want more of everything with him.
I’m stammering, even here on my own, unable to form words. Completely lost in the way he can have such an impact on my body despite all the distance between us.
Maybe that’s what prompts me to say what I say next.
Would you want to come up here... to Devil’s Peak, I mean.
If you can get time off work.
The forecast is supposed to turn kinda soon, and if you wanted to come before this next front is due to arrive.
God. I’ve never suffered from nerves like this. The apprehension is so overwhelming, like I might actually crawl out of my skin if he turns me down. It’s awful. The worst kind of sickness to be standing here with my heart in the back of my throat, shifting my weight at the prospect of a few words appearing on my phone from him.
That night, I told him I wasn’t gonna run away—I wasn’t disappearing like I have an awful tendency to want to do—but we both knew I had to get back to the ranch. There was an unspoken line that we’d accepted, one that meant I was going to leave, and we weren’t exactly gonna be discussing what had just gone down between us. Or, at least, not in the immediate aftermath. So, I’m really not sure where we landed on the whole ‘can I see you again’ issue, or if he’d even contemplate actually coming back up here without a solid reason that doesn’t involve my needing his help around the ranch like before.
I’m a microsecond from flinging my phone across the room, because I don’t know if I can bear seeing him turn me down after putting myself out there to ask him that. Fucking hell, I’m such an idiot.
You want to see me again, snowflake?
I swallow hard, fiercely trying to cool my jets and not type back the world’s fastest and most over-enthusiasticyes. Surely, there is no greater shame than practically crawling through your phone screen to beg for your stepbrother’s cock.
As I let my thumb hover over the keyboard, the thought of him, freshly out of the shower and towel-drying himself, is front and center in my mind’s eye. I couldn’t do much more that night than stand there, dumbstruck, while watching him, because he’s just so damn nice to look at. As he wrapped the towel around his waist, highlighting that v pointing right at his dick like a beacon, Raine had caught me staring.
The deadly smirk on his lips at that moment quite possibly marked the final stage of my complete ruination.
Every scalding second of his intense focus had stayed on me, before he arched an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that, or I’m gonna have to take that mouth of yours again.” His tattooed hands had tucked the towel in on itself, before reaching up to tousle through his damp hair.
I didn’t even have an answer before Raine stepped forward, grabbed me by the hips, and kissed me roughly. The type of branding that left me starry-eyed and struggling to remember my own name.
With all that fresh in my mind, I hit reply.
Do you?
Do you want to see me?
I shouldn’t.
But it turns out I seem to keep forgetting those kinds of rules.
When it comes to your pretty little mouth, I’m in the mood to ignore words like “should” or “shouldn’t.”
Ok, it’s official. I’m grinning at my phone, and floating. Totallynotplaying it cool.