Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(39)
“Wydell. Wydell, look at me, babe.” Soft fingers cupped his face. “C’mon, it’s me, Anya.”
He focused on the blue of someone’s eyes but it took several seconds to realize that the sparkling depths belonged to his woman. He needed her. With a rush of breath, he grabbed her, yanked her against him.
She squeaked but wrapped her arms around him as he struggled for a deep breath. “Shhh,” she crooned, smoothing her hand over his shoulder to his spine. “It’s okay. You’re in Los Vista surrounded by friends.”
He’d been surrounded by friends in Iraq too. Didn’t make him feel any better. But over there, he hadn’t had a soft, sweet woman in his arms. He buried his face against her throat and inhaled her scent.
So perfect.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” she asked.
“No.” The last thing he wanted to do was scare her with the violence that lived in him. How he still thirsted for those missions and victory over their enemies. How, when he wasn’t tormented by dreams of her, he had nightmares of blood and pain.
“I’m okay.” He released her, and she moved back a step, watching him closely.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am. Best get back to work.”
“Okay, how can I help?”
“You can start by taking those tubs back to the home improvement store.” He hated himself for not budging on this issue, but his agitation about his flashback was greater than his ability to stop being a pain in the ass.
She set a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “Are we seriously going to argue about this after you’ve just clung to me like a drowning man? Wydell, I just don’t get you.”
He narrowed his eyes. A drowning man? He wasn’t. He was Hard Ass, and he was going to show her how to build a proper vacation home.
“Fine, leave them here then. I’ll install one later. Why don’t you go on down to the Kents’ place? I hear they’re in need of some help. Take your reporters with you—they’ll jump all over that story.”
She stared at him. He sensed her sadness and couldn’t look in her direction. She tangled him up too much—he needed some room to think.
“Are you sending me away?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m good at working alone, Anya. I’ll see you later.”
She stormed to her truck, and with the bath tubs still in the bed, she drove away in a cloud of dust.
He stared at her truck for a while before turning his focus on the pile of lumber that would build several more homes. The idea of that wing crossed his mind again, and before he knew it, he was lining up cement blocks to be used as a footer. By midafternoon he had the addition framed. And by the time the sun slipped behind the horizon, those two-hundred square feet had become a thousand.
Standing back to survey his handiwork, he smiled. He’d make it up to Anya later, and he had a feeling she’d like what he’d done. The place looked much cozier yet it was still small enough to appease Anya. And if not, she’d give him the sharp edge of her tongue.
At least then he’d have a reason to kiss her into silence.
*
The familiar sound of Wydell’s truck engine idling beyond her door brought Anya outside. She hated the leap of her heart whenever she saw him. And the way her nipples peaked at a single glance at his hard lips. The memory of them wrapped around her straining buds was too thick in her mind to shake.
All those times she’d thought she disliked him and it would never work faded away. She did like him—too much. That’s what scared her the most. She needed distance. Yeah, she was going to tell him that right now.
As soon as she approached his truck, he reached out and snagged her around the waist. Walked her back against the metal side of his truck, still warm from the day’s sun. He swooped in and claimed her lips before she could protest.
The slick swirl of his tongue over hers stole her control. She clung to him, letting him mold her body to fit his. When he hitched her up to his crotch, her pussy spasmed with need.
“I’m sorry for earlier.” He nibbled her lower lip.
“For the…bathtubs?” She couldn’t catch her breath before he claimed her mouth again. He dug his fingers into her backside and she cried out as she was pressed high against his hard cock.
He let her slide down is body, nice and slow. His eyes as black as midnight. “For that and my…episode.”
Her heart turned over. “You know I want to help you.”
“I do. That’s why I want you to come with me.” Instead of letting her get into the truck, though, he eased his hands into her back pockets. The pressure tugged her jeans into her pussy. The seam ground into her clit, and she rocked her hips for more.
“Mmm, you like that? Does it feel good?” He crooned into her ear, relaxing his hands for a brief second. The pressure eased. She gulped at the sensation. His eyes darkened as he pushed his hands into the bottoms of her pockets again. The pull and push against her sent her spinning like a twister.
“Wydell.” She could barely say his name.
“You like when I do this?” He slid his hands upward. The pressure released. Then he shoved his hands deep into her pockets again, and the thick seam of fabric pressed into her clit. She trembled for more, breathing too fast. Climbing faster.