Page 14 of Wild Love, Cowboy (The Portree Cowboys #1)

Grant

I hear my name, did I imagine it?

I shove off the wall, my pulse thundering in my ears. My body’s strung tight, one live wire of tension and want. I had to get out of that bar before I lost my damn mind and bent her over it, consequences be damned.

So instead, I’m waiting out this hard-on in a restroom stall like a goddamn teenager with no impulse control.

I push open the stall door—and fuck me sideways.

Mia.

She’s standing at the sink, head bowed, lips parted, eyes closed like she’s trying to pull herself together.

Failing. Just like me. Her chest rises and falls with sharp, shallow breaths, her nipples straining against the fabric of that sinful black dress that hugs her curves like it was sewn directly onto her skin.

I don’t think.

I move.

Two long strides and I’m behind her. She doesn’t hear me, not until my breath ghosts the shell of her ear.

“Mia,” I murmur, voice rougher than I mean it to be.

She jumps, eyes flying open, meeting mine in the mirror. The moment hits like lightning. Her reflection—surprised, flushed, pupils blown wide—tells me everything. I see the moment the realization hits her like a thunderbolt—She’s in the men's restroom.

She spins around, her back hitting the counter. Panting. Hell, I’m panting.

I don’t say a word. I step into her space like it’s mine to take—because in this moment, the magnetic pull to her won’t let me do otherwise.

Her breath stutters. That sound? It undoes me. My cock throbs behind my zipper like it knows this woman’s name, like it’s been aching for her since the day we collided in that store.

Her expression mirrors mine. Raw. Hungry.

“I should—” she stammers, backing up.

“You should what?” I ask, my voice a low growl. “Run again?”

“I don't run,” she protests weakly.

I close the sliver of space between us. Bracing my hands on the counter on either side of her, caging her in. She’s trapped. She knows it. And she doesn’t look like she wants to be anywhere else.

She’s so warm, the heat rolling off her like waves, and I swear if I touch her now, I’ll lose every ounce of control I’ve got left.

I watch a shiver roll over her skin.

I’m close enough that I can smell her perfume—something delicately sweet and warm that makes my head spin. “That's all you've done since I met you, Mia. Why is that?”

I can feel her heart hammering against her ribs. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“At the store. At the yoga class” I lean in closer and drag my lips up her neck. “You run the moment things get intense and real between us.”

“There is no 'us'.” she says, but her voice betrays her, coming out breathy and uncertain.

I drag my eyes down her body, letting them linger. With a smirk, I turn and walk to the bathroom door, flipping the lock with an audible ‘click’.

She doesn’t move or protest when I turn back and step towards her, closing the distance between us, pressing her back against the counter. My hands bracket her hips, not quite touching.

“Could’ve fooled me.” I lift my hand, hesitate for only a fraction of a second, then brush my thumb across her bottom lip.

Then I lower my voice, rough and loaded. “Tell me, Mia. How many times did you imagine me kissing you tonight?” I dip my head until my lips barely graze hers. “Or were you too busy fantasizing about what else I could do to that mouth?”

Her breath catches.

“You’re filthy,” she says, voice trembling. Not angry. Just wrecked.

I grin, slow and dangerous. “Good thing you chose the talker.”

Her brows knit. “What?” sounding out of breath.

“That little game back at the bar?” I lean closer.

“You said, you’d rather have sex with a talker than a crier.

Lucky for you, sweetheart—because I’m about to tell you every dirty fucking thing I want to do to you.

And you’re welcome to shut me up with that pretty little mouth of yours, anytime you like. ”

“Grant” she breathes, soft and uncertain. But that voice—it’s laced with heat. A challenge. A plea.

For the briefest moment she looks like she’s about to bolt.

“I tried to stay away,” I rasp. “Tried to let you walk out of that store and that studio. But you keep showin’ up in front of me, darlin’. And I’m tellin’ you right now—I’m done pretending I don’t want you and I knew what would happen if I ever got you alone.”

Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, her eyes locked with mine. “What would happen?”

The raspiness of her voice, snaps my control like a dry twig.

“This.”

My mouth crashes into hers, swallowing her gasp. Her lips part instantly, hungry, her hands flying to my shoulders. A taste of whiskey and want on her tongue. I groan into her mouth, pulling her closer, closer—like if I don’t anchor myself to her, I’ll come undone.

The kiss is wild, all tongue and desperation. My fingers fist into her long dark hair, tilting her head just so, deepening the kiss, until her knees threaten to give out. She pulls at my shirt like she wants it off—like she wants me off, and inside, and everywhere.

I draw a breath. “Bet I could get you off with just my mouth, right here. Right now.” I rasp against her ear.

She pants as I lift her up and onto the counter, adjusting her so I can wedge myself tighter between her legs. She gasps when my body presses flush against hers.

Trailing kisses down her neck to her collarbone. “Been thinking about this all night,” I growl against the spot just below her ear. “Watching you in that dress, pretending you don't feel it too.”

Her head falls back as I drag my lips down her throat. “I don't—”

“Liar.” I nip at her collarbone, loving how she jerks against me. “Your body's more honest than your mouth, Mia.”

I slide one hand up her side, thumb brushing the underswell of her breast. “These tits in this dress? Fucking criminal.” Pushing the cups of her bra down, revealing the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Trailing my thumb across one nipple, I take her other nipple into my warm mouth.

The sound of her breathy moan has my dick twitching in my jeans and I suck and lick like I can’t get enough of her.

I lower my hand and find the hem of her dress, pushing it higher.

“Been dreaming about getting my mouth on you ever since I saw you in that store, holding your red panties in my hands”

Her breathing turns ragged. “Grant—”

“Know what else I've been dreaming about?” I drag her nipple through my lips one last time, before I drop to my knees in front of her, looking up the length of her body.

All perfect curves, looking gloriously disheveled and stunning, her ocean blue eyes burning into mine.

“Tasting you. Finding out if you're as wet for me as I think you are.”

Her eyes go wide, darting to the door. “But…”

I run my hands up her thighs, feeling her legs tense under my touch.

“No one's coming in…and if anyone comes to the door? I want them to hear just how good I make you feel.”

The flash of desire in her eyes is undeniable and I’m damn near desperate for her.

I push her dress up around her waist, revealing the very same red lace panties I picked up at the store, a single satin bow resting just below her belly button like an invitation. “ Fuck . Now that’s a sight I’d happily be on my knees for every damn day” I murmur.

The cool tile is grounding me as I press my mouth to the inside of her thigh, at the edge of her panties. I revel in the feeling of her tremble for me as she lets out a moan.

“Look at you.” I breathe out.

I pull her panties to one side, revealing her beautiful bare skin.

“You ever had a cowboy between your legs, darlin'?” I trace one finger along her center, finding her slick, ready.

Her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in through my shirt. “Grant, I—God—”

“Hold onto the counter.” I guide her hands behind her, positioning her. “You're gonna need the support.”

I part her with my thumbs, letting my breath ghost over her slick center. She's glistening, pink and perfect, and I want to devour her.

“Been thinking about this pussy for the last week, Mia. Dreaming about how you'd taste.”

When I finally press my tongue against her, she lets out a sound so raw it sends blood rushing south so fast I get dizzy. I lick into her, slow and deliberate, savoring the salt-sweet taste of her.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpers, hips canting forward, her nails digging into the counter.

I grip her thighs harder, spreading her wider as I work my tongue against her. “You taste better than I imagined,”

I lift my head for a brief moment.

“Tell me to stop Mia,” I growl against her skin.

She exhales hard, shaky. “I..I..can’t.”

“ Good” That’s all I need.

I growl against her flesh. “I could do this for hours.”

She pants, her chest heaving, as she lifts my hat off and places it on the counter next to her, her fingers making quick work of threading through my hair and tugging, hard, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to my dick.

She pushes my head lower, demanding more. “Less talk, more tongue cowboy—prove it.” She breathes her voice coming out almost desperate.

Her command sends a rush of heat through me. I settle in, sealing my mouth to her again, ready to worship until she’s shaking apart in my arms.

Her head falls back, throat working as she swallows a moan. I double down, finding her clit with the tip of my tongue, circling it, learning what makes her shake and moan the sweet sound I never want to stop hearing.

“You know what I'm gonna do after I make you come with my mouth?” I murmur against her, each word sending vibrations through her center as she moans. “Gonna bend you over this counter, hike this dress up, and fuck you till you're screaming my name. You want that, darlin’?”

“Why don’t you find out before my brain remembers how to form a polite sentence, cowboy” she gasps, her words coming out in a rush.

A low chuckle rumbles from my chest, and I slide two fingers into her, curling them forward as I suck her clit hard between my lips, my tongue licking deep strokes into her. Her walls clench around me instantly, her whole body going rigid.

“That's it, darlin’” I pump my fingers in time with my tongue licks.

“Let me feel you come. Wanna feel this pussy squeeze my fingers before it squeezes my cock.”

Her thighs start to tremble, quivering as she gets close. I don't let up, working her with my lips and tongue and fingers until she's grinding shamelessly against my face.

“Grant,” she pants, “I'm gonna—”

“Do it.” I curl my fingers deeper, finding that spot that makes her back arch. “Come for me, Mia. Come all over my tongue.”

She does. Spectacularly. Her body bows, muscles locking as she pulses around my fingers, a flood of wetness coating my palm. I work her through it, gentling my touch as the aftershocks ripple through her.

When I finally pull back, she's flushed and panting, eyes hooded, looking wrecked in the best possible way.

The perfect picture of freshly tongue-fucked-bliss.

I rise to my feet, a small smile playing on my lips, I’m wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before leaning in to kiss her, letting her taste herself on my tongue and pressing my rock-hard dick, still in my jeans to her sensitive center.

“You feel that?” I growl, grinding into her core.

“That’s what you do to me.” I say with a growl.

“You're so fucking beautiful when you come,” I murmur against her lips. “And I can't wait to see it again when I'm inside you.”

I grip her thighs hard, dragging her even closer, loving the way she arches into me, how her body’s begging without a single word. The friction is devastating—and not nearly enough.

I'm reaching for my belt when it happens.

Her phone buzzes.

Loud. Obnoxious. Reality.

She stiffens. Like she got hit with a bucket of ice water.

I don’t want to look. I don’t want her to look.

But she does.

One glance. One breath.

And everything changes. The atmosphere shifts and it’s like she suddenly realizes where she is and what we were about to do.

I see the instant the shutters come down in her eyes.

“I have to go,” she blurts, her voice a mess of panic and guilt.

She pushes against me, sliding off the counter before I can stop her. I take a step back. Her hands are shaking as she smooths her dress down and runs her fingers through that glorious thick brown hair.

“Mia, wait—” I say, reaching for her.

She won’t look at me. Her voice is low. Final. “This was a mistake.”

“Bullshit.” I practically growl.

Her gaze flickers to mine. And for a second—I swear—she wants to stay.

Instead, she turns and pushes through the door and runs for it.

I’m still standing there, every inch of me burning, every part of me screaming for more of her, for just another second. Her heat is still imprinted on my skin, her taste on my lips, and she’s already halfway out the damn bar.

Her scent lingers like a brand—adrenaline, and that intoxicating heat that’s uniquely her. My fists clench at my sides, jaw tight, breath ragged.

She didn’t mean it.

I know she didn’t.

The way she kissed me? That wasn’t a mistake. That was a confession. The way she moaned my name, ingrained into my brain.

But I let her go.

And now, with the door swinging shut, I’m left in a damn restroom with a cock that could cut diamonds and a need so raw it makes my hands shake.

But this?

This ain’t over, darlin’.

Not by a fucking long shot.