“Hell no,” he said around another chuckle. “This is too damn funny to keep secret.”
“We’ll never speak of this again!” she insisted and held up her pinkie finger. “Swear!”
“No.” Cash snagged her pinkie with his and turned off the lamp. “C’mere, spitfire.”
Keeping Cash’s pinkie finger wrapped with hers, he tugged and she found herself on her knees between his spread thighs. Through the split in the tent opening, moonlight showed her the handsome face of the powerful man who had her in his clutches.
“Pinkie swear, you’ll delete that photo, big’n bad?” Tracy whispered, using the nickname that described him.
“I’m keeping that photo in case I need to blackmail you.”
Cash’s voice was husky and he let go of her pinkie. He placed her arms around his neck and settled his hands at her waist. His head lowered and his eyes closed. She shut her eyes and his mouth came down on hers. Leaning into him, she tightened her arms as his hands slipped under her shirt. She threaded her fingers through the thick dark-brown hair at the back of his head. So much for not responding to him, she thought. Cash groaned, and it sounded a lot like the groan that had escaped him when he’d said good night. As they kissed, his hands flattened to her back and moved lower. When he cupped both hands to the cheeks of her fanny and squeezed, every nerve in Tracy’s body jolted like she’d been touched with a live wire.
“Cash!” She gulped, breaking their kiss and opening her eyes.
“Yeah.” He slid his hands up to her waist and winked. “Sorry.”
“Are you?” she whispered.
“Do you want me to be?”
“No.”
Cash molded her to him for another kiss and this time his hands moved up her ribcage. Never in her life had Tracy experienced a predicament like this. Because she’d never allowed herself to be in a situation like this. Wanton craving flooded her entire being for this man and only this man. She yearned for him to do this and…and… What? More. He cupped her breasts. Shegasped. But, oh yes. Her nipples beaded against the thin fabric of her bra separating her skin from the palms of his large hands. She arched her body, pressing her breasts into his hands.
“I’m not made of steel, Tracy.”
“You feel like steel.” Tracy trailed her fingers across his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms. “More, Cash.”
“Any more and you’re liable to get it all,” he warned. His hands slid to her waist, and he scooted her from between his legs. “Racy Tracy, crawl back onto your cot.”
With her hands on his knees, she said, “Only if you pinkie swear you’ll delete that pic.”
“If I don’t promise you that, it’s a win-win for me. Win because I keep the pic and win because we’re gonna make love right now,” he clarified and cocked a brow.
Tracy thought it would be a win-win for her, too, but didn’t say so. Grabbing her blanket and pillow, she carefully snuggled back onto her cot. She heard Cash mutter a couple of mild oaths, something to do with holy water and hellfire. He rolled to his side, facing away from her. Maybe he wasn’t as unmoved, unaffected, and uninterested as she’d assumed.
“Night,” she whispered.
“I hope so.”
Tracy closed her eyes and it felt like only minutes later when she heard birds chirping. Morning? Already? She opened her eyes and saw Cash’s empty cot. He was up and gone. She was instantly wide awake. The whole camp would know she’d spent the night in Cash’s tent. She yanked on her jeans, stepped into her boots, and tied her shirt. Looking for her phone and running her fingers through her hair, she cringed at how she’d thrown herself at Cash Cooper. He was no doubt used to it. But for her it was a first. She stepped to the tent flaps and peeked out at the camp. Quiet. The pond glistened in the early light from the sun peeking out behind the hills.
Widening the tent flaps, she saw Cash sipping from a cup and sitting in one of the camp chairs. She had no choice butto face him and yet another bad impression. Why had she ruined their night together? His cowboy hat sat low on his head, shading those cobalt-blue eyes from the sun. The stubble of a black beard added to his rugged, masculine appeal. He wore a different shirt today. The tails were tucked into his blue jeans which bunched around his boots.
“Is the coast clear?” she asked.
“Yup, come on out,” he said. When she had sat down in the other camp chair, he handed her a cup of coffee. “Damn, you’re pretty in the morning.”
Tracy felt herself blush and began, “Thank you, and about last night?—”
“What about it?” A slow, sexy smirk played across Cash’s lips.
Holding her tin cup with both hands, she said, “I just wanted to tell you that I don’t come onto guys. I mean I’ve never done that.”
“Done what?” he asked. “Fallen out of their bed?”
“No, I’ve never fallen out of their bed. Or my own bed. Anybody’s bed.” Tracy felt flustered and shook her head. “But that’s not what I mean.” She would not allow her wrong impression to stand uncorrected. In the few days she’d known Cash, he’d impressed her. It was important to her that he knew she wasn’t what? Loose? “I’m not usuallyracy.” She glanced away from him to say, “I’ve never spent the night with—” When he didn’t reply, she looked at him. “Do you know what I mean?”
