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I couldn’t sleep. Thinking about you.
Tinsley
You’ve been on my mind, too.
Her words are enough to keep me going all day. I ride the fence line again, but this time, I barely notice the heat or the dust. All I can think of is her, tomorrow night, in my home.
CHAPTER TEN
HUDSON
I wake up Friday morning already counting the hours until tonight. Fuck. It’s going to be the longest day of my goddamn life.
By the time dusk finally drags its ass over the horizon, I’m standing by the window with the lights off, staring at the empty curve of the driveway. When I catch the flicker of headlights at the gate, my heart kicks into overdrive and I have to grip the sill to steady myself. Her little Corolla bounces over the cattle grate, headlights catching the gravel dust in two spinning columns of white.
I’m already at the door when she parks, the screen door slapping closed behind me as I step onto the porch. The air is thick with humidity and the faint metallic tang of rain on dust.
She’s wearing a simple black dress, the kind that hugs her hips and ends just above the knee. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, catching the last bits of gold from the porch light. She looks at me, and my whole world shudders, reorienting itself around the axis of her.
I meet her at the top step. I want to say something witty, something suave, but all that comes out is her name: “Tinsley.”
I step forward, closing the last bit of distance, and cup her jaw in my hand. She’s warm, her skin soft as the inside of a new saddle, and for a second, I just look at her—memorize the sharp line of her cheekbone, the freckles over her nose, the glint of blue in her eyes.
Then I kiss her. Not polite. Not cautious. I back her against the door frame and press in, my hand sliding into her hair and pulling her mouth open to mine. She tastes like cherry and fire. Like everything I ever wanted.
She kisses me back, fingers clawing at the front of my shirt, dragging me down to her level. She bites my lip, hard, and I nearly lose it.
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her pupils are blown, her lips wet and parted. She’s breathing fast.
“Dinner’s inside,” I say, voice barely above a growl, and my cock asks me what the fuck I’m doing.
She shakes her head, slow. “Not hungry for food.” Thank God.
I don’t wait for permission. I scoop her up, her legs locking around my waist, and carry her through the front door like a man possessed. Her hands are everywhere, clawing at my back, threading into my hair. She’s laughing, low and dirty, her breath hot in my ear.
I hit the stairs without breaking stride. She yanks my shirt loose from my jeans and slides her hands under the fabric, raking nails down my spine. I lose track of everything except her. She’s all I can see, all I can smell, all I can feel.
At the top of the stairs, I press her back against the wall, pinning her with my hips while I fumble for the bedroom doorknob. She laughs again, then slaps my ass, hard enough to make me grunt.
“God, I need you,” I mutter.
She slides her mouth along my jaw, biting at my ear. “I need you, too.”
I get the door open and stagger inside. The bedroom is dark except for the blue-white wash of moonlight through the window. I drop her onto the bed and climb on after her, caging her in with my arms and kissing her until my lips feel bruised.
"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice a low growl that vibrates in my chest. I force myself to pause, to give her that one last chance to pull back. "Because once I have you, Tinsley, I’m never letting you go. I don’t do temporary. I don’t do 'friends with benefits’. If we do this, you’re mine."
She reaches up, her fingers sliding into my hair and pulling me down until our lips are inches apart. "Then stop talking, Hudson, and show me what being yours actually means."
I claim her mouth with a hunger that’s been building since that first time I laid eyes on her. It isn’t the polite, tentative kiss of a man trying to be careful. She tastes like dark fruit and defiance, her hands fisting in my shirt as she pulls me closer, her body molding against mine as if it were carved to fit right there, in the hollows and angles of my own.
I slide my hands down her back, cupping the lush curve of her rear and lifting her slightly, pressing her pelvis into the hard ache of my cock. She lets out a low moan into my mouth, a sound of pure, unadulterated want that nearly sends me over the edge.
My hands are trembling as I peel the fabric back of her dress back to reveal her lace bra and the pale, shimmering skin of her shoulders.
It hits me like a goddamn cattle prod. Her tits are perfect, straining against black lace, begging for my mouth. My cock turns granite hard, and I don’t even try to hide it. I want her. Right now. No holding back.
She arches up, hair fanned around her like fire, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any blue left. She looks fucking edible. I lose it. My hands shake as I strip the dress down and off before tossing it away, baring her to the moonlight and my hunger. The straps of her bra slip down, revealing even more creamy skin. I move my mouth over her collarbone and up her jaw.
