Page 98 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

“Thank you.” She bent over and gave him the gentlest of kisses and, hot damn, it had him ready to bust through the corral door.

“I found a place that sells those sleigh beds you’ve been eyeballing for half the price in Big Sky. They even deliver,” he told her.

“We need to wait until the foundation is poured first. I don’t want to jump the gun again and buy things we can’t use,” she murmured, her fingers curling into the back of his neck like they had a mind of their own.

“The electrician come tomorrow bright and early, so I’ll place the order after he leave.”

“That’s fantastic,” she said, sitting her ass on his thighs and straddling him. “Well, look at you, Mr. Make It Happen.”

“You’re about to make it happen if you keep grinding on me like that.”

“Like what?” she teased while rocking forward, the soft press of her thighs igniting him like fire on gasoline.

Before she could blink, his hands were claiming her, tracing every curve like they’d been mapped there just for him.

“Vivi,” he moaned against the delicate length of her throat.

Vivi’s hands came up to his face—small and warm, and trembling just enough to make Boone’s heartbeat punch straight through his ribs. Her palms slid over the scruff he hadn’t bothered shaving, the kind that was well past five-o’clock shadow and edging straight into reckless decisions only.

“What?”

“I want you so fucking bad I’m about to break my zipper. But not in a dirty bunkhouse.”

“I like dirty—remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Not only did she like dirty talk, she liked to get a little dirty in the sack.

“Good, then shut up and fuck me.”

CHAPTER 39

Boone swore his brain short-circuited. Every rational thought he’d clung to—gone. Whatever restraint he’d been pretending to have—torched.

All he could think was, lord help me, this woman is going to ruin me—and I'm going to thank her for it.

She leaned in and first nipped his lower lip, then his upper, and finally she went in for the kill. And it wasn't just a kiss.

Nope.

It was an open-mouthed, lip-dragging, hair-tugging, holy-hell kind of kiss that scorched every kiss Boone had ever had clean off the map and replaced them with one blazing neon sign:

This woman. This moment. This was where everything is heading.

Boone decided right there—with the cows mooing in the pasture and his sanity probably out back smoking a cigarette—that he'd follow Vivi anywhere she pointed. No hesitation. No questions asked.

He'd spent years keeping people at arm's length, acting like distance was safety. Turns out what he'd needed all along was the opposite—someone brave enough to dig under every layer he'd used as armor and actually want what was underneath.

But that wasn't just someone. That person was Vivi freaking Calder, and nothing had ever felt better.

Well—he amended, when she bit his lower lip and released it with a wicked little pop—maybe one thing could.

The way she moaned into his mouth made it real clear this was only the warm-up lap. A full-blown tailgate-before-the-rodeo situation.

And speaking of tail, his hands were all over hers. Palming. Squeezing. Mapping every perfect curve of that heart-shaped ass like he was committing it to memory and intended to revisit often. But it wasn't enough—hell no—so he slid his hands inside her shorts and dragged her flush against him. Fair play, considering her hands were doing some exploring that made his knees wobble.

"You keep that up and it's game over before I even get those shorts off you," he rasped, voice already shredded.

"Then you'd better get to work because this feels too good to stop."