Page 132 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

Heat curls through me until my jeans feel far too tight. I wet my lips, take another drink of my beer, and let it coat my tongue before I swallow.

“So,” I say, because my brain has completely given up. “What’s next?”

Willy’s grin widens. “Whatever you want.”

Red never looks away. His scarred hands rest between his knees while he watches me with the same calm focus he brings to every bronc that tries to throw him.

Emmett isn’t nearly as good at hiding what he’s thinking. His eyes keep drifting to my mouth before he catches himself, and every failed attempt at looking elsewhere only makes him more attractive.

I climb to my feet instead of answering.

Dust brushes off my jeans as I wander around the fire, letting them watch me. Three pairs of eyes track every step.

I shrug out of my jacket, toss it over the back of a chair, and stop.

My pulse pounds between my thighs.

I keep walking.

Willy watches me with complete confidence, already convinced he knows how this night ends. Red’s fingers flex once against his knees before going still again. Emmett leans forward without seeming to realize he’s moved.

I circle until I’m standing beside Red.

He catches my wrist before I can take another step and hauls me onto his lap hard enough to pull a gasp from me. His hands clamp around my hips, holding me against him while the scrape of his calluses sends another shiver racing through me.

His mouth brushes my ear. “This what you want, Arizona?”

The question never reaches anyone else.

I nod.

His grip tightens, reminding me exactly where I’m sitting.

Across the fire, Emmett’s hands grip his knees so tightly his knuckles pale, while Willy has abandoned his beer altogether. The teasing smile he usually wears has vanished, leaving nothing but hungry certainty.

I curl a finger at Emmett.

He comes without making me ask twice, crossing the space between us before dropping onto his knees close enough that our breaths mingle. Red eases me back against his chest and tips my chin up.

Emmett kisses me.

His mouth is impossibly gentle, tasting of smoke and cider. His lashes brush my cheek, and the care behind that kiss almost undoes me. I catch his lower lip between my teeth, smiling when his heartbeat jumps beneath my fingertips.

His hands wander over my waist until Red lets go of my hips, giving him room to slide his palms beneath my shirt.

The cool touch against my skin steals my breath.

Behind me, Willy pushes to his feet, circles around Red’s chair, and comes up at my back with the easy confidence that seems stitched into him. He cups the back of my neck, his thumb stroking the base of my skull before easing my head back so our eyes meet over Red’s shoulder.

“Trust me?” he asks.

I nod.

His fingers slide into my hair and tighten gently, holding me between him and Red while Emmett trembles against me.

I turn and find Emmett’s mouth again. This time he kisses me like he can’t stop himself.

His tongue meets mine, and I thread my fingers through his hair before giving it a firm tug. The groan that vibrates through him makes heat roll straight through me.