The Maisey Yates Collection : Cowboy Heroes. Maisey Yates
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the breast implants.”
His smile turned wicked. “Baby, you aren’t missing a damn thing.”
Her heart thundered harder, a rush of adrenaline flowing through her. “I didn’t think this was your type. Remember? You had to give me a makeover.”
“Yeah, that was stupid. I actually think I just needed to get knocked upside the head.”
“Did I...knock you upside the head?”
“Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her bare waist, his fingertips playing over her skin. “You’re pretty perfect the way you are. You never needed a dress or high heels. I mean, you’re welcome to wear them if you want. I’m not going to complain about that outfit you wore last night. But all that stuff we talked about in the beginning, about you needing to change so that people would believe we were together... I guess everyone is just going to have to believe that I changed a little bit.”
“Have you changed?” she asked, brushing her thumb over his lower lip. A little thrill skittered down her spine. That she could touch him like this. Be so close to him. Share this kind of intimacy with a man she had had a certain level of emotional intimacy with for years and years.
It was wonderful. It also made her ache. Made her feel like her insides were being broken apart with a chisel. And she was willingly submitting to it. She didn’t know quite what was happening to her.
Are you sure you don’t?
“Something did,” he said, his dark eyes boring into hers.
“You know,” she said, trying to tamp down the fluttering that was happening in her chest, “I think it’s only fair that I give you a few lessons.”
“What kind of lessons?” he asked, his gaze sharpening.
“I’m not sure you know your way around an engine quite the way you should,” she said, smiling as she wiggled out of his hold.
“Oh, really?”
She nodded, grabbing hold of a rag and slinging it over her shoulder before picking up her ratchet again. “Really.”
“Is this euphemistic engine talk?”
“Do you think I’m expressing dissatisfaction with the way you work under my hood?”
He chuckled. “You’re really getting good at this flirting thing.”
“I am. That was good. And dirty.”
“I noticed.” He moved behind her, sweeping her hair to the side and kissing her neck. “But if you’re implying that I didn’t do a very good job...I would have to clear my good name.”
“I was talking about literal engines, Chase. But if you really want to try to up your game, I’m not going to stop you.”
“What’s that?” he asked, reaching past her and pointing to one of the parts that were spread out on the worktable in front of her.
“A cylinder head. I’m replacing that and the head gasket on the engine. And I had to take a lot of things apart to get to it.”
“When do you need to have it done?”
“Not until tomorrow.”
“So you don’t need me to play the part of lovely assistant while you finish up tonight?”
“I would like you to assist me with a few things,” she said, planting her hand at the center of his chest and pushing him lightly. The backs of his knees butted up against the chair that was behind him and he sat down, looking up at her, a predatory smile curving his lips.
“Is this going to be a part of my lesson?”
“Yeah,” she said, “I thought it might be.”
Last night had been incredible. Last night, he had given her something that felt special. Personal. Now she wanted to give him something. To show him what was happening inside of her, because she could hardly bring herself to think it. She wanted... She just wanted. In ways that she hadn’t allowed herself to want in a long time. More. Everything.
“What exactly are you going to teach me?”
“Well, I could teach you all the parts of the tractor engine. But we would be here all night. And it would just slow me down. Someday, we can trade. You can give me some welding secrets. Teach me how to pound steel.”
“That sounds dirty, too.”
“Lucky me,” she said, stretching her arms up over her head, her shirt riding up a little higher. She knew what she wanted to do. But she also felt almost petrified. This was...well, this was the opposite of protecting herself. This was putting herself out there. Risking humiliation. Risking doing something wrong while revealing how desperately she wanted to get it right.
But she wanted to give him something. And honestly, there was no bigger gift she could give him than vulnerability. To show him just how much she wanted him.
She swayed her hips to the right, then moved them back toward the left in a slow circle. She watched his face, watched the tension in his jaw increase, the sharpness in his eyes get positively lethal. And that was all the encouragement she needed. She’d seen enough movies with lap dances that she had a vague idea of how this should go. Maybe her idea was the PG-13-rated version, but she could improvise.
He moved his hand over the outline of his erection, squeezing himself through the denim as she continued to move. Maybe it wasn’t rhinestones and a miniskirt, but he didn’t seem to mind her white tank top and coveralls. He was still watching her with avid interest as she untied the sleeves from around her waist and let the garment drop down around her feet. She kicked it off to the side, revealing her denim cutoff shorts underneath it.
“Come here,” he said, his voice hard.
“I’m not taking orders from you. You have to be patient.”
“I’m not feeling very patient, honey.”
“What’s my name?”
“Anna,” he ground out. “Anna, I’m not feeling very patient.”
“Not enough women have made you wait. You’re getting spoiled.”
She slid her hand up her midsection, her own fingertips combined with the electric look on Chase’s face sending heat skittering along her veins. She let her fingers skim over her breast, gratified when his breath hissed through his teeth.
“Anna...”
“You know me pretty well, don’t you? But you didn’t know all this.” She moved her hand back down, over her stomach, her belly button, sliding her fingers down beneath the waistband of her shorts, stroking herself where she was wet and aching for him. His fingers curled around the edge of the chair, his knuckles white, the cords on his neck standing out, the strength it was taking him to remain seated clear and incredibly compelling.
“Take them off,” he said.
“Didn’t I just tell you that you’re not in charge?”
“Don’t play games with me.”
“Maybe patience is the lesson you need to learn.”
“I damn well don’t,” he growled.
She turned around, facing away from him, taking a deep breath as she unsnapped her shorts and pushed them down her hips, revealing the other purchase she had made at the store yesterday. A black, lacy thong, quite unlike any other pair of underwear she had ever owned. And she had slipped it on this morning hoping that this would be the end of her day.
“Holy hell,” he said.
She knew that she was not the first woman to take her clothes off for him. Much less the first woman to reveal sexy underwear. But that only made his appreciation for hers that much sweeter. She swayed her hips back and forth before dropping down low, and sweeping back