I retract my earlier statement. I hardly tasted that shot as it hit my tongue. I was too focused on Grayson's intense gaze burning my skin. I’ll take his stare over a chaser any day.
It’s terrifyingly blissful to have Grayson Miles’ undivided attention.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.
Research notes: cowboys are territorial.
grayson
. . .
TWELVE
I thinkMaisie was a temptress in another life. Who am I kidding, in this life too. The way her tongue darts out to lick the single drip of whiskey is downright pornographic. My dick twitches in my pants. I think about the horse shit Maisie shoveled earlier to not pop a boner.
I didn’t think she would down another shot. I should have known this little troublemaker will do anything to prove a point. I learned that lesson when she fondled my ass to get her beer.
She sways in her boots with that smug smile on her face I want to kiss right off. It’s obvious she’s had quite a bit of booze tonight already. I was about to beat Chesney's ass for drinking and driving with her, but I should have known that’s a hard rule of his. He’s always been very verbal about his loathing for drinking and driving.
Maisie spins in a circle with her arms out, just barely tripping over her own feet. “How’d I do, cowboy?” she says with a sexy rasp to her voice.
My eyes dip down to her round ass as it spins by. It looks edible in her little jean getup. It’s tight in all the right places, hugging her curves like a glove before tapering out into bellbottoms. She’s wearing a ridiculous pair of pastel pink cowgirlboots. She looks like she’s walking on cotton candy clouds. They might just be the cutest things I’ve ever seen.
“My eyes are up here, pal,” she hollers with a flirty wink.
God, that mouth of hers is going to get her in trouble. She’s on one tonight, and it’s taking everything in me not to play right back. What I wouldn’t give to tell her every dirty, filthy thing running through my mind, that, under different circumstances, I would do to her right here in the goddamn bathroom. I wouldn’t be able to make it home, not with this woman. She was made for me, drawn up from every wet dream I’ve ever had since puberty.
My eyes collide with two of my new favorite colors, and the wind is knocked from me. I crack my neck, taking a step forward. Her breath hitches when I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Now I’m curious what else your throat can take.”
I’m done for when Maisie whimpers under her breath. I leave her with that and walk to the bar to get a water from Hunter. I force the glass into Maisie’s hand. “You should drink this.”
Maisie gives me a mock salute and brings the glass to her lips. “Yes,daddy.” She downs the whole glass, her tongue licking around the edge to clean it dry.
Fuck me. What did I do to deserve this forbidden fruit dangled in front of me? I add another tally to the list of punishments that sinful mouth of hers has earned her.
The adrenaline injection has me fatigued and dizzy, and the loud music isn’t helping. I still find a smile on my face, due toher.
When I return with another water, I find a very drunk Maisie bobbing her head to the music. “I loveeeeee this song,” she shouts dramatically. “Who wants to dance?” She looks to Chesney first, finding him texting away on his phone, his brows furrowed. She looks my way next. I internally groan, knowing what’s coming. “How about you, cowboy? Bring your dancing boots?” She waggles her eyebrows. How the hell am I supposed to say no to that?
“Left them at home, unfortunately.”
Do I like to dance? On occasion, but I know if my hands get to touch her, I won’t be able to stop myself. I can’t cross that line.
Maisie crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, come on. You two are nooo fun. Biggest bunch of party poopers I’ve ever met. The poopiest of the partiers. Ha!” She giggles to herself until she doubles over with laughter.
Note to self: Maisie is the opposite of a mean drunk. She’s fucking adorable, like a teddy bear. She reminds me of Nova like this, and my heartpangs. God, she would fit into our little family so well, it practically hurts to envision.
“Maybe someone else wants to dance with me,” she mumbles to herself.
I don’t want another man's hands on her, especially when she’s drunk. “No.”
She doesn’t find my refusal very amusing, rolling her eyes in a move that could win her an Emmy. “Fine! I’m going to the little girls room then.” I narrow my eyes on her. “I have the bladder of a squirrel, I’ll have you know.”
I can't hold my amusement back as I watch her stomp over to the bathroom, her hips swaying in the most tempting way. All the men in the bar track her like a hawk.
“Who are you in a phone fight with?” I ask Chesney when I find him typing out another long paragraph.
His head whips up. “It’s nothing. Just checking in with the vet to make sure we’re still on for vaccines and checkups later this week.”
