“Right,” Jesse says, but he’s still looking at Callie like he’s planning exactly how he’s going to have her. “Duty calls.”
“Duty,” Callie repeats, and her gaze finds mine. For a moment, just a moment, I see the same hunger reflected in her eyes that’s burning through me. “Right. Well, thanks for the halter.”
She turns to leave, and watching her walk away is physical pain. I notice everything—the way her hair sways, how her shoulders tense like she’s fighting not tolook back, the perfect curve of her ass in those jeans. I’m completely, utterly fucked.
Until Jesse calls after her.
“See you around, pretty girl.”
She stops, turns back, and the look on her face, part want, part fear, part something wild, makes my blood surge hot.
“Probably not.”
But there’s heat in her voice, promise in the way she lets her gaze linger on each of us before she goes.
And that’s when I know we’re all in trouble. Deep, consuming, burn-everything-down trouble.
Because I don’t just want to touch her. I want to possess her. Want to know every sound she makes, every way she moves, want to mark her as mine even though she could never be.
Boone’s still snickering as we watch her walk away, but all I can think about is the sway of her hips and how badly I want my hands on them.
“You’re an idiot,” I tell Jesse, trying to sound normal when my entire body is wound tight.
“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees. “But did you see the way she looked at me?”
I saw. Saw the heat in her eyes, the flush on her skin. Saw the way she looked at all of us, like she was imagining the same things I am.
“I saw the way she wanted to punch you.”
“Same thing.” Jesse’s grin is predatory. “Besides, you were looking at her the same way. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
I shake my head and start walking back toward thehouse, trying to adjust myself discreetly because watching Callie Thompson has left me hard and aching.
Life’s plenty long enough to avoid unnecessary complications.
Callie Thompson isn’t just an unnecessary complication.
She’s an inevitability. A storm headed straight for us.
And God help me, I want to be destroyed by her.
I watchCallie’s truck disappear down the road, dust trailing behind it, and try to ignore the way my body feels from being near her. My jeans are killing me because my dick is hard, and I have to force myself not to adjust things in front of my brothers. Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it.
“Well, that was fun,” Jesse says, grinning like an idiot, though I catch him shifting his stance in a way that tells me I’m not the only one suffering from tight pants.
“No, it was not,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. It’s something sweet and female that’s making it hard to think straight.
“Come on, Wy. Live a little. When’s the last time you had a conversation with a pretty girl that didn’t involve cattle prices or weather?”
“When’s the last time you had a conversation with a female that didn’t involve trying to get them naked?” The words come out harsher than intended, fueled by the image of Jesse’s fingers on Callie’s skin.
Jesse’s grin turns knowing. “Jealous?”
“Of what? You making a fool of yourself?”
“Of me touching her.” His voice drops, and there’s something dangerous in it now. “I saw how you watched when our fingers touched. Saw how your jaw clenched. Dude, you’re an awful poker face.”
I don’t argue. He’s fucking right.
