Before I can react, his hands move with slow, terrifying precision, sliding over my hips, gripping me just hardenough to make a point, and spins me around until I’m facing him. I have to crane my neck to look up at him.
All six-foot-seven inches of pissed off, grumpy, scowl ridden cowboy.
His calloused fingers tip my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. His stare is blistering, eyes hungry with desire, and fuck if he isn’t turning me on right now.
“Now what was that?” he murmurs, caressing my jaw with featherlight touch. “You saying I wouldn’t do shit?”
My lips curl into a devilish grin. “You won’t,” I whisper back, taunting him with everything in me.
His thumb drags over my lower lip, his touch soft but devastating. A soft, traitorous moan escapes before I can bite it back.
“Keep back-talking, Catalina,” he rasps, his thumb still caressing my lip torturously. “And I’ll shut that smart little mouth real fucking quick.”
Ugh, boring.
I slide my palms up the broad, rock-solid expanse of his chest, letting my fingers trail shamelessly over the thick definition of his pecs.
He wasn’t expecting that.
Ha, sucker.
I tilt my head, feigning sweetness. “You’re threatening me with a good time, Carter. Why don’t you shut up, and get on your knees like the good little cowboy you are, hmmm?”
He grunts in response.
Pussy.
I scoff, flipping my hair with a dramatic toss, and push past him with a careless shoulder bump.
“Knew it,” I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes as I strut toward the door.
I barely make it three steps before I’m scooped up and gently set down on the bar table again. This time, he steps between my thighs, his body heat slamming into me.
His hands plant on either side of me, caging me in. His blue eyes pin mine, burning with so much filthy promise I forget how to breathe.
He inches his face close to mine, his breath tickling my lips. “There you go again with that smart mouth and that goddamn attitude,” he growls, his hand gently grabbing my face.
“You’re lucky I don’t bend you over this bar and fuck that bad attitude right out of you.”
My mouth falls open in a shocked gasp.
“Excuse m-”
He cuts me off with a single finger pressed to my lips, a silent command that makes my thighs press together.
“Now be a good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth, “and let’s go before I lose my patience.”
Without another word, he steps back, grabs his keys off the table, and stalks toward the door. Leaving me sitting on the empty bar counter—Breathless. Shaking. Panties soaked.
The driveback is quiet and fucking awkward.
I’m irritated, horny, and hungry.
The actual trifecta of doom.
Every muscle in my body aches from hours on my feet, the thick, lingering scent of whiskey and cigarette smokeclings stubbornly to my skin, even with the windows cracked.
Carter hasn’t said a word since we pulled out of Boots & Bourbon. He grips the wheel like it personally insulted him, his jaw locked so tight I’m surprised I don’t hear his molars cracking, and his eyes fixed furiously on the empty road ahead.
