down her body in slow, nearly tangible increments. She squirmed and tried staring at the seat next to her.
Epic backfire. The memory of being sprawled out on that seat with Cash’s tongue between her legs had her biting her lip. She chanced a glance in his direction only to find him watching her intently. His eyes slipped to the seat briefly before traveling the length of her boots. When his gaze met hers again, he grinned.
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees, letting the beer bottle dangle between his thighs. “I know what you were just thinkin’ ’bout.”
Shooting Nick a glance, she scowled. “No you don’t.”
“He’s asleep already.” He knocked his brother’s knee with his own to make his point. “Dead to the world. And yeah, I do.”
It was ridiculous that she could be as aroused as she was by a memory, an earlier insinuation for more, and his current hot stare. But she was. Funny how stalker vibes could be ignored when a pussy was hot. “Tell me,” she breathed.
That was all it took for him to be in the seat next to her, his lips touching her ear. “You were thinking about earlier. How hard you came. How good it felt and that it wasn’t quite enough. You were thinking that you want more.”
Yes. Yes. Yes. “Not exactly.”
“Liar.”
He called her out. That wasn’t something she was used to. Cash rewrote the page at every turn. No lines. No bullshit. She liked it and found it disconcerting at once. “I don’t lie.”
Honesty was the best policy. If he could do it, so could she. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into his shark-infested waters. “I thought about a lot of what you said, especially wanting more.” She turned so she was facing him. “But I was also thinking you’re asking for more than I’m willing to give. I want you.”
“Good.”
“No.” She needed to make herself perfectly clear here, or she’d be dealing with another cowboy like Nick. “I want you and what you can do for my sexual needs. I want you to eat me, fuck me, drive me insane with orgasms.”
“Done.” He smirked.
“What I don’t need is you reminding me of a past I walked away from.” She’d worked too hard and too long to make it big enough to go bigger. He needed to understand that even if grassroots and small-town values were where he came from, where she’d started out, she didn’t want to be there ever again. She wanted more. To be someone. To travel the world. To leave a mark. “Yes, I’ve become slightly impersonal. But understand this, Cash. That’s how it needs to be for me.”
He considered her carefully. “Explain.”
How was she supposed to do that? Jesus, her chest ached just thinking about her need to be someone special when her last marker was placed over her grave. Living paycheck to paycheck and killing themselves to make ends meet had slid her parents into early graves. She was the only one left to remember them. They were two in billions, with no legacy beyond a child. “Worded correctly, my story could be as sad as anyone’s in a big city where a nobody can get lost. Worded wrong, I sound like a spoiled brat out to experience the world, crying when the cards don’t fall my way. Which fiction do you want?”
“What I want—” he sat forward, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “—is the real you. We can go rounds, fucking, playing, doing whatever will satisfy you. I’m game. But I want you real. You have to share who you really are with me. I’m not into fucking blow-up dolls, manikins or patched-together surgical recreations. I’ve had my fair share of fake. I want real.”
“I could feed you any story.” She shifted back to meet his gaze. “How would you know the difference between the truth and lies?”
“Cardboard StyleU models do nothing for me, darling.” His lips touched her neck briefly. “Yeah, they’re pretty, but if a person looks too close, it’s easy to see that they’re empty shells. Their lives revolve around an end
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