Page 56 of Roped

His lips do the twitching thing again, making his scar ripple and look even more beautiful as he whispers, “That makes it even better.”

“I don’t think—”

“Scared and tremblin’,” he rumbles, letting his eyes wander over my face, pausing at my trembling mouth, the fluttering pulse on my neck, my heaving chest. “And so fuckin’ horny that I can smell her pussy.”

His name is a whimper on my lips.

And he looks up, his green eyes intense as he runs a rough finger down my blushing cheek. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I hiccup, unable to say anything at all.

“Wonder what she’ll do,” he muses, rubbing his thumb along my lower lip, “if I really bind her. Rope her like a runaway filly with a knot so tight that no matter what, she can’t get away from me.”

My belly whooshes and I twist his shirt. “Because it’s… all about the knot.”

His gaze seems to affirm that I remembered. “Yeah, it’s all about the knot.”

“You… It’s not just the cowboy thing, is it? The ropes.”

His eyes locked with mine, he shakes his head.

My heart slams in my chest as I blurt out the first thing in my head, “Have you ever… Before?”

He moves his thumb over my mouth, staring down at it, taking his time answering. And I have to say I don’t like that. I don’t like the sting of jealousy in my veins. As much as it scares me, being tied with a rope, I don’t like the idea of him doing it to someone else.

“Never met someone I wanted to pin down so bad. To use my ropes on.” Then, pulling my lip down, toying with it like he always seems to do, he adds, “Thought a lot about it, though. About meetin’ someone sweet enough to wanna capture.”

I shudder so hard at this that I bite the inside of my cheek. I have to trap my moan in my throat because it was going to be so loud and embarrassing. Although I shouldn’t have bothered because it’s not as if my reaction goes unnoticed. Not when he’s around. And this time, his mouth pulls up in a smirk. As always, tiny, but his very first and so freaking cocky and appealing that I shudder some more.

Before I can speak, though, I feel something. Down there.

I feel his hand creeping under my trapped dress, gliding up my thigh. “What are you… doing?”

Staring deep into my eyes, he answers, “Checkin’ to see where else you’re sweet.”

My hands fly over to his bare shoulders as my belly trembles. “I don’t…”

“You don’t what?” he prods when I simply trail off.

I lick my lips. “I don’t think you should do that.”

He stares at my mouth. “Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because you…” I dig my nails into his skin. “You don’t even like me.”

Again, his gaze seems almost amused as he shakes his head. “That ain’t the problem.”

“But—”

“What else?” he asks.

“Uh”—I swallow—“I-I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“So?”