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He tugged hard on the leather strap, his hands flexing as the tension made the veins in his forearms stand out. My focus tunneled. I had no idea what he was tightening or why—my brain had completely short-circuited.

I swallowed hard, nearly gulping, and forced my gaze elsewhere, but it was no use. He set the strap down and reached for what I did recognize as the reins.

Oh. Hell.

Colton ran his hands down the length of the leather, slow and deliberate, the motion so sensual, heat pooled in my cheeks—and elsewhere. I managed to tear my eyes away from his hands just in time to catch his eyes widen and his throat bob before he averted his attention away from me. He ran his hands along that leather again.

He knows.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me, and I hated that my body was responding as if he’d flipped a switch. I was sweating, my skin prickling with heat as I fought to keep my thoughts on the task at hand.

I spun around, my back to him, pretending to study the wall of the stall as he continued his demonstration. His deep, smooth voice didn’t help matters. If anything, it made it worse.

Tacking up a horse shouldn’t take long. Just get through it. Focus.

I clenched my fists, biting down on my tongue to keep from making some humiliating sound. Behind me, Colton worked efficiently, his explanations clear and precise. Meanwhile, I stood frozen, staring at the wooden boards like I was a child in time-out.

A soft beep broke through the haze that clouded my brain. I turned quickly—too quickly—and collided with Colton’s broad, solid frame.

Thunder was gone, and all I was left with was him. I must’ve tuned everything out pretty well not to have heard the ruckus of moving a big animal like that.

I was standing face to face with Colton, entirely too aware with the desire to use that leather.

I was losing it, losing the composure I had with every irritatingly sexy grin.

Colton didn’t step back. If anything, he leaned closer, his towering presence overwhelming. My breath caught as he took another step, his boots scraping against the floor.

Colton raised his arms and caged me in, his hands braced on either side of me.

I gasped—an actual, audible gasp—and instantly regretted it.

His smirk deepened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He leaned in, his face impossibly close, his warm breath fanning across my cheek as he muttered, low and rough, “Careful, Sunshine. If you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you can’t resist me.”

My mouth opened, a retort on the tip of my tongue, but no sound came out.

Coming down to the stables, I had no intention of things getting this heavy. I would’ve mentally prepared myself if I had known, worked up my defenses through words and reminders of everything at stake. Instead, I was left completely vulnerable and off guard.

Colton laughed, leaving me even more breathless and flustered. The sound was gravelly and so unused.

That right there was all that was needed to blast past any defense I did have. There was something about Colton’s laugh that broke me. I’d learned that not many people heard that sound from him, and the fact I was one of them sent a surge of pleasure coursing through me. It felt raw, intimate.

I reached up, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and crashed my lips against his. There was no denying it anymore—the pull between us was magnetic, inescapable, and so damn strong it made my head spin.

Colton didn’t hesitate. He fell into the kiss with a low growl, his lips moving against mine in perfect sync, a maddening rhythm that set my entire body on fire. Our tongues collided, tasting, exploring, blending together in a way that felt as reckless as it was inevitable.

This was me officially saying fuck it and falling headfirst into his orbit.

I was furious with myself. Furious that I’d let it come to this—that I’d let him get under my skin in a way no one else ever had.

This broody, insufferable cowboy had lied to me the first night we met, hid who he was. That alone should’ve been my cue to steer clear. I hated liars. Lying was my number one red flag, a dealbreaker.

And yet, Colton Stone made red look damn good.

My hand slid up, curling beneath his jaw, the contrast of my red nails against his sun-bronzed skin grounding me in the moment. His gaze locked onto mine, so intense it felt like he was branding me from the inside out.

Those piercing eyes—blue and sharp as icicles—seared into me, daring me to stop.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” I panted against his mouth, my breath hitching, “I won’t be able to stop myself.”