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CHAPTER EIGHT
COLE
Reine’s hips sway in front of me as she stomps through the frost grass, and for a second, all I can think about is how damn good she’d look wearing nothing but my flannel shirt and a smile. Instead, I have to settle for watching her ass in tight jeans as we cross the yard. Pure torture. I almost groan out loud.
She doesn’t slow down, just tosses a look over her shoulder like she’s daring me to keep up. Challenge accepted, Montana. I match her stride, boots thumping behind hers, doing my best not to haul her back against me and press my mouth to that stubborn jaw.
Inside the barn, it’s all dust motes and the heavy smell of horses and leather. Reine walks into the ranch office and sits down behind the desk. I lean against the door, arms crossed, just to admire her.
“What would you like me to do?” She doesn’t look up, just flips through a stack of paperwork like she’s too busy for my shit. “Thunderbolt needs his stall spruced up. If you’re feeling useful.”
I can’t help grinning. “You’re in luck, sweetheart. I know my way around a manure fork.” My Texas drawl thickens on purpose, just to see if I can make her blush.
She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch. “Then get to it, Texas.”
Fuck, I love a woman who gives as good as she gets. I push off the door and stride down the aisle, boots thudding and muscles itching to work. Thunderbolt flicks an ear and gives me a look like he’s not sure if he approves of my existence. Yeah, same, buddy.
I grab the pitchfork and roll up my sleeves before attacking Thunderbolt’s stall. Thunderbolt gives me a look that says, “Don’t fuck up my house, useless,” and tosses his mane like he’s the king of the barn. “Relax, big guy,” I mutter. “I’m just making it sparkle for my girl.” He snorts in approval. I swear he knows what’s up. Smart fucker. I work up a sweat scooping out every last speck of manure.
By the time I’m done, my shirt clings to my back, and my arms are on fire. I flex my biceps just for the hell of it, then glance toward the office. Reine’s watching me. She thinks I can’t tell, but I can feel her blue eyes crawling all over me like a brand. Fucking hell, if she stares any harder, my cock is going to punch straight through my jeans.
I wipe sweat from my brow and lean on the pitchfork, giving her a little show. “All clean, Montana. Want to come inspect my handiwork?” I toss her my best shit-eating grin.
She stands in the doorway, arms crossed over that perfect chest, a smile twitching on her lips like she’s fighting the urge to laugh at me. “You planning on admiring yourself all morning, or do you want to grab new bedding for Thunderbolt?”
God, I love this woman. The meaner she is, the harder my cock gets. I want to drag her into an empty stall and have my way with her. Fucking hell. I can just picture it.
Reine’s legs wrapped around my waist, her soft little moans echoing in my ear as I bury myself so deep inside her she forgets her own name. She’s got no clue how close I am to tossing her over my shoulder and dragging her gorgeous ass off to the first room I can find.
Instead, I grab a bale of fresh bedding and haul it over like it’s nothing. Thunderbolt watches me with murder in his eyes, but I just laugh and toss the straw around until the stall is four-star comfy.
“Ready for inspection, boss lady.” I lean on the pitchfork and give her my best cocky grin, flexing just a little because I know she’s watching.
Reine lifts her chin, all attitude and sass, and stalks over like she owns the place. Her eyes run up and down my body, and fuck me, if she isn’t checking me out just as hungrily as I’m checking her out. Her eyes drag down my chest, linger on my arms, and goddamn if her tongue doesn’t dart out to lick her bottom lip when she hits my abs. My cock throbs hard, and I’m glad my tight jeans help hide the evidence.
She steps into the stall, chin up, blue eyes sparking like she’s daring me to make the first move. Challenge fucking accepted.
“Not bad, Texas,” Reine murmurs, dragging her fingers along the fresh straw. Her voice is pure sin. “I can tell you’ve done this before.”
I close the gap between us in two steps, crowding her against the stall wall. The scent of her shampoo mixes with horses and leather, and it’s fucking intoxicating. I cage her in with my arms and lean down so my mouth is just a breath from hers.
“There’re tons of things I can do with my hands.” My voice drops low, hungry. “You want a demonstration?”
She sucks in a sharp breath. Her chest rises against my shirt, nipples hard and begging for my mouth. I steal the gap between us, pressing my body tight to hers. “All you gotta do is say please, Montana.”
She lets out this shaky little laugh, but her eyes are glazed, pupils blown wide. Fuck. She wants me almost as much as I want her. Almost.
“Please,” she whispers. The sound barely makes it past her lips, but it’s all I need.
I crush my mouth to hers, devouring her soft lips, my tongue demanding entry. She opens for me, greedy, and I fucking lose it. My hands cup her jaw, then slide down to grip her ass, and I use my hold to pull her flush against my cock. She moans, digging her nails into my arms, sending a bolt of pain straight to my balls.
Fuck. I want her so badly my head spins.
I drag her up the wall, letting her legs hitch around my waist. Fuck, that’s exactly where they belong. I press her into the rough wood and slam my mouth back onto hers, grinding my cock against her heat through our jeans. I’m dying to rip off every layer between us and bury myself inside her, but I want to savor every second. I want her wild and desperate, trembling with need.
I roll my hips, letting her feel exactly how hard she’s got me. She moans into my mouth, grabbing onto my shoulders so tightly she’s probably leaving marks. Good. I want to wear her marks every fucking day.
Her hair comes loose from that messy ponytail, wild around her face as she rocks against me. God, she’s perfect. My hands slide up her sides, under her shirt, skimming the soft skin of her waist. She shivers when my palms glide up over her ribs. Her breath hitches as my thumbs brush the underside of her bra.
