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“Damn. You make me crazy.” He pulled back, jerked the edges of her dress together, and stared down at her, his gaze sensual, drowsy. “Get dressed.”
“I am dressed.” She stared back at him in confusion.
“Jeans.” His hand moved over her ass. “You wear a dress to that bar and I’ll end up fucking you before I get you off the dance floor. Go. I’ll wait.”
Sarah’s lips twitched at that command in his tone. “You’re bossy, Ethan.”
“I’m horny, too, so watch out. Add the two and you could get more of an education in fucking me than you’re ready for right now.”
Her lips parted and she smiled. He obviously liked her smile because his eyes narrowed, the amber highlights darkened. “I don’t know, Ethan,” she drawled. “I’ve always been a very fast learner. Maybe you’ll be the one falling behind in the lessons, rather than me.”
Oh, he was falling all right, and Cooper knew it. Falling, nothing—he had already fallen, hard and fast, for that cute little dimple, those pale blue eyes, and long loose curls. Her intriguing smile and her ability to keep him intrigued. Damned if any other woman had ever done that.
“Bet me.” He grinned back at her. Because this was sex talk, not love talk. Love talk would come later. As soon as he figured out exactly what it was he was supposed to say in love talk. But he was damned good at improvising.
She finally shook her head. “We need to talk before we do anything else.” She sighed. “You didn’t trust me, Ethan.”
She stared up at him, that vulnerability, the hurt in her eyes tightening his chest.
“It wasn’t a lack of trust, Sair,” he promised her, letting his fingers run through the soft silk of her curls. “It was the pain in your eyes when I saw those scars. It was the knowledge that someone had hurt you and I wanted to kill them for it. But I didn’t want you to see that reaction. I didn’t want you to see me if the sons of bitches who did that to you were still alive.”
They weren’t. Even the young boy who had tricked Sair out of her father’s home had died a less than easy death only a few years later. Her father’s enemies had died in prison, along with her father. Anyone who would hurt Sarah was gone from this earth. And that left no one for Cooper to exact vengeance upon.
She dipped her head, moving away from him as she fixed her dress.
“It doesn’t change the fact that I may want more from you than you want to give,” she told him, turning back to him. “I deceived both of us, I think, to get into your bed.”
“So deceive me again, Sair. Just get your ass in a pair of jeans and get back down here.” He had to clench his hands and his teeth to keep from grabbing her. “For God’s sake, baby, have pity on me here. I’m hard as a rock and starved for that pretty little body of yours. Let’s get out of here and do what we have to do.”
“Why?” Her hands went on her hips and a frown brewed at her brow. “Why does it matter if we go to the store? Or to the bar? How does it change anything other than your stamp of ownership over my head?”
He nodded decisively. “You’re getting the picture there, cupcake. My stamp of ownership. Branding you in a way.” He liked the sound of that enough to smile in anticipation. “And that’s doing it the easy way. We could do it the hard way. I could just follow you the next time you go to the store and start knocking damned heads together when I catch those bozos sniffing after you. I’d have fun with that, but I bet you wouldn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re being very autocratic.”
“It’s one of my more advanced degrees,” he snorted. “Now get dressed. You have five seconds to get your tail upstairs before I start undressing.” He lowered his lashes, flicking his gaze over her. “And tomorrow I start batting heads together.”
He was serious.
Sarah stared back at him, amazed, perhaps a little outraged, and a whole lot aroused.
“We’re going to have to discuss your habit of ordering me around,” she told him, backing out of the kitchen.
“Five. Four.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re being hideously arrogant.”
“Three.” He waited a heartbeat. “Two.” He lowered his arms, his hands about his belt, as sweet little Sarah turned tail and ran.
And damn him if that wasn’t the prettiest little tail.
He grinned at the sound of her running up the stairs. Grinned at the thought of the evening ahead. Then he whistled soundlessly at the thought of the night ahead.
By morning, Sarah and everyone else in this damned town would know exactly whom she belonged to.
* * *
They were being followed.
