The Maverick Meets His Match (Hearts of Wyoming Book 2)(24)
“I want you, Mandy. In my bed and happy to be there. That’s what I want.”
He lowered his face, and his lips swept across hers.
Like a match igniting a brush fire, heat zinged through her body in a rush. She felt light headed as his arms encircled her and his hands pressed against her back. His tongue touched the seam of her lips, and they parted like he’d pressed some automated opener. He tasted like coffee and man, and she felt her body melt like she was the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d be a liquid pool on the dirt floor. His hands rubbed her back, and the hard bulge in his pants rubbed her crotch. His tongue invaded to dance with hers while his warm lips swirled over her mouth, making her give more than she’d intended. Even at nineteen, he’d held a black belt in kissing. Like two people going over the edge, they were free-falling together.
Her mind struggled against the need his wonderful mouth called forth. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t a fantasy. This was her life. She needed to stay in control of it.
Summoning all the willpower her weak body could muster, she pushed away. And stared into startled eyes filled with desire, passion, lust. She took a step back, amazed she had brought forth all that. And not at all surprised there was no tenderness, no emotion, no affection to go with it.
“I’ve got to go,” she managed to say. “Parade’s starting. You’ll need to mount up too.”
He took a step toward her, crowding her. “Just promise you’ll keep an open mind, Mandy. Six months. And that kiss was a testament that it would be six very enjoyable months. We’re goddamn combustible.”
Chapter 6
The sounds of the crowd roared in her ears as Mandy stood at the timed-event end of the arena near the hazers’ chute and checked her roster as the next rider and horse got ready. How she could even function after that kiss was a wonder. Her body still tingled. She was playing with fire, allowing him to kiss her. But she hadn’t really allowed—he’d taken, just like he’d take her company if he had a chance. Question was, would that six-month stint her grandfather devised derail Ty’s chances? It was still hard for her to fathom that her grandfather had put the family’s ownership of Prescott in jeopardy.
She glanced over to where Ty was standing with Harold near the bulldogger chute, talking to the cowboys who had already competed in the steer wrestling event. He stood shoulder to shoulder with some of the biggest men on the circuit, and if she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was one of them, albeit on the slender side. As if he knew she was watching him, he looked up. From across the chutes, she felt the heat of his gaze warm her like a hot glue gun had spread its mixture all over her, bonding her in place. He winked, and a smile lit across his handsome face like he knew what she’d just been thinking. She quickly looked away, toward the hazer getting set in the chute.
I want you, Mandy.
Ten years ago he hadn’t wanted her. She’d humiliated herself asking, begging almost. So what had changed? Nothing. Except now he had a chance of owning more of the company. Rich as he was supposed to be, why was that even an incentive? And he was fooling himself if he thought he could change her mind about developing the ranch. Her grandfather had locked that up in a trust that would require her approval, and she would never give it. Besides, much as Tuck didn’t care about the company, he loved the ranch. Young men could be swayed by the almighty dollar, but she was certain it wouldn’t sway Tuck.
And where was her brother? He was on the roster to compete in saddle bronc tonight. Mandy watched as the steer left the chute pursued by the hazer and bulldogger in a wave of dust. Three point six seconds. Not bad. The crowd clapped its approval.
Early this morning Tuck had sent her a text message saying he’d arrived and needed to talk with her. And here it was well into steer wrestling, and he’d yet to appear. She’d head to the locker rooms to look for him, but she didn’t feel she should leave any event while it was going on. She had too much riding on this rodeo. She took out her silver-rimmed phone and texted him, then shoved it in her pocket to wait for the vibration. Instead, a hand touched her shoulder. She jumped.
“Hey, big sister, how’s it hanging?” Tucker beamed his trademark thousand-watt smile at her.
Lean, lanky, and laid back. That was Tucker Prescott. And handsome, if she did say so herself, with his blue eyes, rangy build, and blond hair. He was just twenty-two, and Mandy still thought of him as young, but the buckle bunnies who trolled the rodeo grounds certainly didn’t agree.
“Hey yourself. Where have you been?” she said, talking close to his ear so she could be heard over the announcements. The little squirt had on aftershave. Did he think the bronc would care? She almost laughed.
Tucker pushed back his hat. “Around. Checking things out. Trying to learn a few things.”
That sounded mysterious—and not at all like Tucker. “What’s up?”
“Is Ty around?” he asked, surveying the area.
“He’s hanging out with Harold at the bulldogger chute. Says he wants to learn. And by the way, why didn’t you tell me about Mom and Harold?” She swatted at his chest.
“’Cause Mom asked me not to. She said she’d tell you herself. Besides, I wasn’t supposed to find out. I just did. Just like I’ve found something else out I wasn’t supposed to.”