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I swayed towards him when he pulled away. He blinked, released his hold on my neck and looked away. He was thoroughly dishevelled and bed-sexy with swollen lips, mussed dark brown hair, flushed cheeks and dark eyes.
“The storm’s passed,” he grunted.
I cupped his cheek, rough with a day’s growth, and made him look at me. His head pressed ever so slightly into my touch.
“If I was doing your make-up on set, I would apply a liquid highlighter on your cheekbones here.” I brushed the pad of my thumb across his cheek on the left and then right. “And then a little foundation, not too much, to match your skin tone. That’s it. Your skin is just fantastic.”
I let my fingers trace over his cheeks and chin and down his neck. He moaned, causing his whole body to tremble slightly.
“Must be the lanoline,” Jet muttered, his voice rough. “In the wool. Sheep.”
“Stay.”
He stared for several seconds, and I stared back, surprised at how bold I’d been. My heart was racing.
“What do you want, Ari?” His chest rose and fell like his breathing was laboured.
“Will you stay and have sex with me?”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Iwantto.”
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t move.
“This isn’t like last night. I want to,with you.”
We watched my hand reach between us and slide over the zipper of his jeans to palm his obvious erection. I looked him in the eye, feeling a surge of confidence as he groaned, flexing his hips into my hand.
“But the question is, do you?”
5
Jet
Cupcake: What’s your favourite colour?
Irolled my aching shoulders and eased back into my outdoor chair after throwing another small log into the metal drum acting as my bonfire-come-fire pit and clinked my beer against Blake’s with a mutual ‘cheers’.
“Can you believe Theo is dating Trixie?” Blake slumped into his seat. “About to shoot my shot with my all-time favourite country and western singer and he appears out of nowhere saying he’s her boyfriend.”
“I still can’t believe Trixie is Tom Turner’s sister.”
Our eyes met and together we said, “Mind. Blown.”
We each took a long drink of our beers.
I’d avoided the house—myhouse—for the time being, opting for a sunset beer with Blake in the backyard to celebrate the completion of the shearing at the Turner’s place.
“Was a good contract at the Turner’s,” Blake mused. “I’d go back if they had me.”
“Not just for a glimpse of Trixie?”
Blake grinned. “That’s a bonus, of course. You know they still haven’t found the shooter from her concert.”
“Of course you know all the goss.”
“Follow her on Instagram. Her morning yoga reels are—” He made a chef’s kiss gesture and then sighed. “It’s all happening here at Ballydoon. And you’re staying in the thick of it.”
