AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Just man the fuck up and get the bourbon.
I walk in behind her, hoping to find the bourbon next to the wine. She’s attempting to climb up the shelves, knocking down a can of beans with her foot.
I watch her in the dim lighting, leaning back against the wall with my arms crossed. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve decided I don’t want or need your help.” She grunts, taking another step up.
I look up to see the shadowed bottles on the top shelf, doubting she’ll make it that high up. At my height of six foot three, I’ll need every inch to reach them.
She grunts one more time before yelping loudly, her grip slipping as she falls back toward the ground. I react instinctively, moving forward to catch her with my hands around her waist. Her body thumps into mine, her back against my chest. Immediately, I’m overwhelmed with her scent of vanilla and something that must be pure Rosie.
My basic male instincts kick in. I squeeze her waist tighter, holding her against me for a few moments as my intrusive thoughts win over. Her soft hair tumbles over my arm. My sex-deprived mind imagines flipping her around, picking her up and inhaling a pure dose of her scent, her back pressed right up against the shelf of canned tomatoes and bags of rice with my hand gripping her hair at the scalp.
Her breath is coming in short little bursts, and she remains motionless in my tight grip. The darkest parts of my imagination conjure a thousand different provocative positions I could have her in before she takes even one more inhale.
Before I lose my fucking mind, I let her go and move back a step. A split second later, and my erection would have been pressing right into her ass cheeks.
Great, I just got a hard-on for my little brother’s girlfriend.
Instead of acknowledging the elephant in the room, I step around her and reach for the bottles. I grab two, hoping they’re what she wants because I need to get away from her and her skin and her smell.
She’s as still as a statue, so I turn around and hand her the bottles, trying not to touch her skin again. I grab two more, praying one of them is something strong.
I stalk out of the pantry and into the kitchen, where I can actually read the labels and breathe. My dick is still protruding into the zipper of my Wranglers, and it hurts.
Fuck this. I have to get fucking laid.
“Um, thanks,” she mumbles.
I don’t respond, lifting the bottles to the light and realizing that one of them, thankfully, is bourbon. I set the other down on the counter before turning and leaving the room with the liquor in my grip. My skin feels tight, and my jeans are caging in my hard length.
Shit, I should tell Duke about this.
I’ve been planning to talk to him about whether he thinks Rosie is truly here for him and her friendship with Dolly or if her motive could be something more sinister, like spying on our family to help her father. It’s no secret he’s been getting into the betting rings at The Riders events and that he hates everyone with any Redford blood in their veins. His involvement in one of our main sources of income doesn’t sit right with me.
Now that this little incident has occurred, anything I say about Rosie could be misinterpreted. I also don’t know if she plans on telling anyone about how I held her waist a few beats too long because that could really fuck up all my plans for the ranch. I can’t afford to cause a rift with my siblings or the Dixons right now. I’m trying to keep the peace and work on the business, keeping things low-key.
Technically, nothing happened. I’ve been deprived of a woman’s presence for years, and her scent, her scantily clad body, and her nearness all overwhelmed me. It was instinct, not true desire.
I didn’t do anything. I pushed her away.
“Fuck me,” I grumble under my breath.
“Where’s Duke?” I ask Sterling as he hops up into the back seat of the Ford F-150 King Ranch pickup.
Cash is driving, and I’m in the passenger seat. It’s seven thirty at night, and we’re all dressed in our nice Wranglers and long-sleeved button-ups with cowboy hats and snakeskin boots.
We stayed up late drinking, smoking, and bonding as brothers last night. I figured there was no need to talk to Duke while he was shit-faced and accidentally start a fistfight. I planned to track him down once his hangover cleared up today, but I haven’t seen him around. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him that his girlfriend got me hard and that I think he should dump her because she could be spying on us, but I’m sure I’ll find the words.
Sterling adjusts the steel at his waistband as the tires kick up dust. “Ah, I think he went hunting this morning with some buddies out at Sam’s place.”
“Sam Seymour?”
“Yeah.”
“He doesn’t need to be there. Not yet,” Cash says.
Duke is old enough to be involved in the business, but I keep my mouth shut.
