By the time the ride was over, my thighs felt like jelly, partly from the ride and partly from the way Slade’s hand had gripped my leg for the last hour. Apparently, he took being my anchor literally.
When he caught me by the waist to swing me off the horse, he held me in the air for a second too long, my breasts pressed against his chest, our faces so close I could feel the heat of his breath.
“Nice ride, City Girl,” he murmured.
“Thank you. I’m glad you talked me into it.”
“How about I talk you into something else?”
“Like what?” I tried to find my snark, but it was buried under a landslide of pure, unadulterated want.
“Like letting me see what that sassy mouth tastes like.”
He didn’t wait for permission. He reached out, his large, calloused hand cupping the nape of my neck. I didn’t even have time to breathe before he pulled me against him. I was off the horse, but my body still felt like it was in freefall.
The kiss wasn’t a getting-to-know-you polite peck. He kissed me like he’d been doing it for a hundred years, his tongue sweeping past my lips to claim me with a raw, demanding intensity.
I intended to push him away. I really did. My hands went to his chest to shove him back, but the second I felt the hard, solid muscle beneath his shirt, my hands slid up his shoulders, pulling him closer. His tongue thrust in and out of my mouth, tasting me and making me come undone. His other hand found my waist, crushing me against his granite-hard frame.
And I did mean granite-hard. Everywhere.
He finally broke the kiss but only, I thought, because we both needed to breathe. He did not act like he wanted to stop kissing me. “You’re a whole lot of trouble, City Girl,” he growled, his thumb tracing my swollen lower lip.
I couldn’t even find the words to argue. I was a concrete-and-coffee girl, but in that moment, tangled up with a man who smelled like the wild Texas evening, I couldn’t remember why I’d ever liked the city. All I wanted was more of him.
CHAPTER SIX
Slade
I leaned against the shadowed corner of the equipment shed a hundred yards away from where the weekly campfire was about to begin, a cold bottle of beer in my hand. From here, I had a perfect view of the woman who had spent the last few days turning my world upside down.
Jamie was sitting on a well-weathered log, tucked between Lucinda and an older woman. She was laughing at something they said, her head tilted back to expose the pale, delicate line of her throat. Seeing her out here, surrounded by the grit and dust of the ranch, made my gut tighten. She was too soft for this place, but the sudden, possessive urge to haul her off that log and claim her right there almost doubled me over.
Across the way, Carl was gathering logs to start the campfire, a few of the guests helping. He caught my eye and gave me a lopsided grin. He didn’t have to say a word. He’d seen me like this before—focused with an intensity that meant I was either about to set a record or break another bone.
I waited until I saw my opening. Lucinda got up to help Carl, and the other woman went with her, leaving Jamie alone.
“You look like you’re trying to figure out how to escape without leaving footprints.”
Jamie looked up, her glasses perched atop her cute little nose. She didn’t flinch at my sudden appearance, but I saw the way her throat moved as she swallowed.
“I do not run away.”
“Oh, yeah? You seem to do that every time I come near you, Jamie.”
I waited, but she didn’t make her usual snarky comeback. She just watched me with those wide, brown eyes, her mouth slightly parted. Like she wanted me to kiss it. Which I sure as hell wanted to do.
Carl lit the fire just as a sharp gust of wind rolled over us, sending the smoke directly into our faces. The logs were far enough away from the fire that you usually didn’t end up with a lungful of smoke, but Jamie started coughing. Within seconds it wasn’t just a cough. She started wheezing.
“Damn it,” I cursed, seeing her face turn red and a panicked expression cross her features. I tossed the beer aside and reached for her. I knew that sound—that wasn’t just a lungful of woodsmoke. That was an allergy hitting her hard and fast.
I didn’t wait for her to find her feet. I stepped into the cloud, hooked one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and swung her up into my arms. She was heavy in the best way possible—solid, soft, and a perfect fit against my chest.
“I’ve got you, Jamie.” I carried her away from the fire and didn’t stop until we were deep in the shadows of an old oak grove, where the air was cool and clear.
I set her down gently, but I didn’t let her go. I pressed her back against the rough, gnarled bark of a massive oak, my body acting as a shield from the rest of the world. She was taking deep, ragged gulps of air, her chest heaving against mine.
I reached up, using my thumbs to wipe away the tears that had leaked from the corner of her eyes. Her skin was hot, flushed from the fire and the panic.
