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She tried again, unsuccessfully, to get down.
Waylon pulled her harder against him and off the counter. He was carrying her to her room.
“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
He didn’t answer as she struggled between being fully aroused by the man’s audacity and dominance and being resistant to what might happen. She couldn’t get involved with them. But maybe I could have a little fun with them. No! No, don’t be so foolish. You already have feelings for them, you idiot.
“Waylon, let me down.”
She squealed as he dropped her to the bed. She bounced, but before she could get control of her position, he knelt onto the bed between her legs and pulled her underneath him. He hung over her. One hand pressed against the comforter and her left ear and the other by her waist. His knee was wedged snug against her crotch and his foot was on the floor for support.
He stared down into her eyes and she remained perfectly still. His expression was priceless. Holy fuck, he’s lethally hot.
* * * *
Waylon stared at the sexy minx before him. Her camisole was pushed all the way up, her breasts peeking out from the sides of the flimsy material. He stared at her body, her luscious, sexy, curvy figure and practically growled with possessiveness. He’d never felt so carnal over a woman. It was like she stirred some sort of beast within him. Her scent, her body, her complete femininity aroused every sense in his body.
He moved a hand along her hip bone making her jerk slightly. But she didn’t move away. She remained still.
He trailed one finger along the tattoo.
“When did you get this?” he asked as she parted her wet lips and took an uneasy breath.
“Last year.”
“It’s beautiful, like you.”
He used his finger to follow the lines of the vine choosing an upward motion until his fingers brushed against the large swell of her breast.
“Waylon?”
“Shhh, not a word, Amelia. I’m so angry with you right now, and your damn hard-as-stone attitude. The thought of you stripping last night in front of those drunk cowboys makes me feel jealous and angry.”
He trailed his finger down her body, following the thin line of the vines, noticing the raised skin beneath one of the flowers. He continued to move lower, and when he pressed under her panties, Amelia stopped him.
“Waylon, I told you that this can’t happen.”
He held her gaze.
“That was before you kissed me the way you did. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“That’s why we can’t do this. We can’t get involved. I don’t want that.”
“What is it that you’re so afraid of? Who hurt you so badly that you’d lump up all soldiers and fighters in one category to stay clear of? Who?” he asked, raising his voice.
“Waylon!” They turned toward the doorway. It was Murphy.
“Brody called. Velma is missing. She wasn’t in the cottage this morning with her friends.”
“Oh God,” Amelia said.
“Come on. We’ll finish this later.” Waylon offered her a hand and she took it. He pulled her up and against him, instantly spreading his hand over her ass. He gave it a squeeze as he held her gaze.
“You go get dressed and we’ll talk later.”
“Waylon, I told you—”
He pressed a finger over her lips to stop her from talking. “Later, Amelia.”
