It’s my goddamn shirt slouching down her shoulder and rising up her spread thighs. My shirt with the decaying horse skull across the chest that I haven’t seen since I was seventeen. It’s doing a shit job of hiding the two piercings in the nipples that are hard enough to be obvious. Pressure builds below my belt as I glower at the white fabric, almost able to see right through it.
She adjusts herself on the fence, and the shirt rides higher, exposing the black between her legs. Her boots slide along the post below her, and I take one jolted step forward. I’m curling my fingers into fists at the same time she cocks her head, hair slipping long and free down her back.
A throat clears.
My attention snaps to the left, focusing too hard on Tanner’s closeness. His eyes are wide as they flick from me to her, his curiosity genuine but still pissing me off. Half the fuckingbunkhouse is out here gawking at Tilly, which I know was her plan in the first place. They should have scurried off the moment they saw her, their eyes on the dirt and nothing else. I’ll make them pay for their lack of judgment tomorrow.
“Get the fuck out of here before I break your necks and leave you for the wolves!” I bark.
They disperse quickly, but it doesn’t settle me.
Tilly’s still watching me when I return my gaze. There’s a dare so proudly ingrained in the half-cocked grin she flashes, those small hands wrapping tighter around the fence. She stills her knee when it starts bouncing, but I catch the movement, refusing to ignore it.
I move, taking slow, predatory steps in her direction. The rise of her chest is sudden. It falls just as fast. I uncurl my fingers and leave them hanging limp at my sides.
“What’s wrong?” she asks innocently.
“Do you want me to go back to prison?”
Her eyes flash. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re pissed off at me for something.”
“What makes you think that? Maybe I was just feeling really hot today and wanted to take a walk in something light and loose.”
Her soft perfume floods the air between us. I inhale and trap a groan low in my chest. There’s no stopping myself from settling directly between her spread legs and taking a bare, warm knee in each hand. She sucks her lip into her mouth when I guide both of her thighs around my waist, crossing them at my back.
“You have a lot of nerve just touching me like this without asking. Especially after ignoring meyetagain today,” she tries to snap. It’s more a soft plea to keep her legs right where I’ve put them.
“And you’re out here wearing next to nothing in front of the entire ranch. Who’s got nerve now, hellcat? Because you’re luckyI haven’t turned you over this fence and smacked your ass raw for this.”
“That sounds a lot like a reward for you.”
My laugh is raw, grating the entire way up. “What are you punishing me for right now exactly?”
“How long were you going to avoid me while simultaneously claiming me as yours to anyone who’ll listen to what you have to say?” she asks, chin raising. “Yeah, I know all about that little do-not-touch rule you’ve laid on the wranglers. And if I’d been more focused when you were in my bed, I’d have kicked you in the balls.”
“You’re predictable, Tilly.”
“And you want to get your ass beat by a girl.”
I squeeze her thighs and push my hands up beneath the hem of her—my—shirt. Her waist is hot to the touch, searing my palms. And for someone who seems to be so angry, she doesn’t shove me away.
Dropping my head, I press my fingers into her skin and let my breath ghost her temple. “I was going to find you tonight. I thought the both of us could use some space, so I’ve stayed away.”
“Space is for those who don’t know what they want.”
“Exactly.”
It’s a statement in and of itself. I watch with conflicted emotions as she digests it, her lips pursing around words that never make it out. The feel of her in my hands is better than any high I’ve ever had, and I press my jaw to her temple, inhaling deeply.
“It doesn’t feel like you don’t know what you want, Rowe. It feels like you’re just too scared to admit it,” she whispers, her hands finding mine beneath her shirt. “Avoidance won’t work. Not now.”
“I can’t have you.”
“But you want to.”
“What I want doesn’t matter,” I argue, the words growing strangled in my clenching throat. “I’ve got a million questions with no answers and hurt to last a lifetime. Having you like this isn’t going to change anything about that.”
