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“Me, too,” he agreed. “I’m just winding down a bit before I hit the hay. Come and join me for a few minutes.”
“You’re probably not wrong about needing to wind down. There’s been a lot to process today,” she replied thoughtfully.
“Exactly.” He patted the seat more firmly. Would she sit next to him? He held his breath, watching her waver. “We can talk about anything that’s bothering you, if you like.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know where to start,” she replied, plopping down in the seat next to him. Trying not to show how elated he was, he casually leaned back into the sofa and lay his arm along the armrest. The movement caused a sharp sting of pain and he winced. Reminding him that the local had worn off a few hours ago and he should probably take some pain killers so he could sleep tonight.
Bindi must’ve noticed his grimace, because she said, “Oh, how’s your arm?” Her mouth twisted in a conciliatory grimace. “Does it hurt a lot?” She leaned in, as if to take a look at his shoulder, and he obligingly lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt to show her. She screwed up her face as she studied the bandage and the tip of her tongue came out, the same way it had when she’d been tying on the handkerchief earlier this morning. The action had nearly driven him wild then, and now parts of his body were reacting before he could stop them. He wanted to taste the tip of that tongue.
“Well, does it?” she prompted, and he refocussed his mind away from her tongue.
He should play it up a little, get more sympathy. That’s what he would’ve done once. But this wasn’t a normal situation. His feelings for Bindi weren’t normal.
“It’s a bit sore,” he conceded. “But I’ll live. It’s just a scratch, really.” Besides, it was a small hurt to bear, if it meant Bindi remained unharmed. His gaze met hers and he almost drowned in their dark depths.
“I haven’t actually thanked you,” she said, gaze never leaving his. “You know, for saving my life, and all.”
“Pshaw.” He waved a hand in the air. “Big, brave Timmo was only two steps behind me. He would’ve saved you if I hadn’t.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She was looking at him with her head tilted to one side, as if considering him. “It’s interesting,” she said slowly.
“What?” he asked, forcing a lazy smile onto his face. Did he really want to know what she thought was interesting about him?
“I’m wondering why you don’t want to take credit for your amazing feat? Why you’re being so self-effacing. It’s not every day you fight off a man with a knife and save some damsel in distress.”
He snorted. She’d got it all wrong. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take credit for tackling Mutt. It was that her safety meant more to him than some stupid knife wound. He’d do it all again in a heartbeat. But how did he tell her that without sounding like a complete sap?
“The Mack I met three weeks ago would’ve been the first to blow his own trumpet. Back then, you would’ve been swaggering around, telling anyone who’d listen what you’d achieved.”
Whoa. Her comment stung. Had he really been that bad? “I’m not sure that’s completely true,” he said with a shrug, trying not to let his pique show. But she’d hit a raw nerve with her perceptive comments. It made him unsure of his next move. Perhaps he had come across as being overly sure of himself when he’d first arrived. But that’s how a star bull-rider was supposed to act. To be larger than life. To not be afraid of anything. Or anyone. But now…?
She smirked and said, “You really don’t remember how pompous you were, do you? You strutted around like you owned the place, even the first day on the job. I thought you were so arrogant. I guess you did help me with Melody and her filly, but that was a small compensation, as far as I was concerned.”
“Oh, really?” He was lost for words. She’d caught him off balance and he didn’t know how to respond.
“Yes, really. But I think the time here at Stormcloud has softened some of that pretentious shit. Let the true Mack shine through.”
He stared at her as she sat on the sofa next to him. Mack was unsure if losing his pretentious shit, as she called it, was a good or bad thing. He wasn’t about to give up his Golden Boy crown just yet.
Bindi reached up and touched his arm, just below his stitches. “I think this proves how much you’ve changed.” She glanced up at him, dark eyelashes fluttering. “I know you’re trivializing this wound, and if I push it, you’ll probably say something like, you’ve had worse plenty of times. And because you ride bulls for a living, I’d probably agree with you. But I want you to know how much I appreciate that you did this for me.”
For a second, he was lost in her gaze, watching her expressive face as she talked. Heat radiated from her hand, which still rested lightly on his upper arm, and tension buzzed between them.
He raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you really want to show your appreciation, how about you come to my room, and we play a little doctors and nurses? You can look after my wound, and cool my fevered brow, among other things.” He’d meant it as a joke, but the words came out more candidly than he’d meant them to. She’d rattled his equilibrium, made him second guess who he was, who he was supposed to be. Falling back on old habits was a way to stop him from feeling so nonplussed. It was a tried-and-true technique that he’d used on countless women before. A little shameless flirting lightened the mood and usually got him exactly what he wanted.
Removing her hand from his arm, she sat back, away from him. “Doctors and nurses?” Brow furrowed, she glared at him. A tingle of chagrin ran down his spine. But it was too late to back out now, so he shot her his best charming grin.
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“And should I also refer to you as My Knight in Shining Armor from now on? Perhaps you haven’t changed as much as I thought you had.” She gave a little snort and turned away. She was going to leave. But he didn’t want her to go. Not with this simmering tension between them, bordering on displeasure. He didn’t want her to be angry with him.
Without thinking, he grabbed her arm just as she rose from her seat. Pulling her back into his lap, he took her mouth in a kiss, grabbing the back of her head to keep her from drawing away. Her surprise changed in a second to hunger as he slipped his tongue between her lips, and she kissed him back with raw, unrestrained desire, relaxing into his body, letting passion overcome any resistance.
This. This was what he was good at. What he and Bindi were good at. He seemed to be unable to put his feelings into words when it came to her, but his body language was excellent at telling her what he wanted, how he felt about her. They had chemistry. Their physical connection was immediate and sizzling. Like nothing else he’d had with any other woman.
She moaned and nuzzled the corner of his mouth, letting her lips graze down his jaw. “God, you taste so good,” she said, letting her lips come back and claim his mouth once more. “I could spend the rest of my life just kissing you,” she mumbled, as his tongue ran over her teeth.
She must be able to feel his bulging erection from where she was sitting in his lap. He wanted to make love to her. Right now. Right here. But someone might walk in at any moment. Alek or Sasha might get up to see what the all the noise was. They should go to his room. Yes, that was a plan. But he didn’t want to let go of her lips. Carry her to his room, that’d be the best option. Repositioning his arm around her shoulders, he used his other arm to pick her up underneath her knees, all without letting go of her mouth. Hoping like hell he didn’t split his stitches, he stood up with Bindi in his arms.
