Page 17 of Wrangle Me, Cowboys

“Did the others go to bed?”

He nodded.

“How come you’re still up?”

“Can’t sleep lately.”

“Because I’m here?” I blurted out.

To my surprise, he nodded again, not denying it.

A gust of wind howled by the house, rattling it like old bones. The fire crackled in the fireplace, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. He didn’t grab me up into a passionate embrace and kiss me like a cowboy who hadn’t seen a woman in months. But he didn’t tell me to fuck off, either.

“What do you want to do now?” I asked, my heart hammering. He was so close. I could smell him, an outdoorsy smell like freshly chopped wood and hay.

Waylon smirked and slid down under the blanket, pulling me down next to him. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow. “You really want to know?”

Suddenly, I was shaking all over. “I really want to know.”

“You’ll know I’m a filthy animal if I tell you.”

“I already know you’re a filthy animal,” I teased, but inside, my heart was slamming.

“Okay.” Waylon licked his lips. “I want to see you kneeling on the rug in front of the fire.”

I swallowed hard. “Right now?”

“I’m just getting started,” he said, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. “Slow down there, Princess.”

“Oh,” I breathed.

“I want you on all fours,” he said. “Naked. And I want you to arch your back, and turn and look at me over your shoulder, in that sexy way you have, with your hair falling all around you, and your ass in the air. I want to see you reach back and touch yourself until your cunt is glistening wet. And then I want to crawl across the floor to you, spread it open, and taste you.”

I could feel myself getting wet just listening to him. His eyes were locked on mine, intense and burning with desire. My own face was hot, but I couldn’t look away.

“Is that all?” I whispered breathlessly.

“No,” he said. “Then I want to fuck you.”

His hand moved under the blanket, finding my breast and cupping it. His fingers grazed over my shirt until he found the edge of my bra. He tugged it down and pinched my nipple through my shirt.

A stab of desire shot straight from my nipple to my clit. “We could,” I breathed. “No one has to know.”

“Oh, but they will,” he said, rolling my nipple slowly between his thumb and finger. “I can’t do any of that, because our parents are married, which means by law, you’re my sister. And brothers aren’t allowed to watch their sisters touch themselves. Brothers aren’t allowed to suck their sister’s cunts. And brothers definitely aren’t allowed to fuck their sisters on a bearskin rug in front of a fireplace.”

I squirmed, warmth spreading between my legs at his words. “I don’t care,” I gasped. “We’re not related by blood. We didn’t grow up together. We just met. Pretend I’m someone you picked up at a bar.”

He smiled and squeezed my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until I whimpered with longing. “The problem with that,” he said slowly, “Is that you gotta pass muster with all three of us.”

“I can do that,” I said, fisting his t-shirt in my hand.

He pulled the cup of my bra back into place, then trailed his knuckles down my belly, drawing a slow circle around my bellybutton. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

His breath whispered across my cheek, and the woodsy smell of him intoxicated me. Nerves tingled all through my body, increasing the wetness pooling between my legs.

“I better go,” he whispered, his dark eyes fixed on my lips.

“Wait,” I whispered. “Not yet.”