Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
When I heard him behind me, I asked if he was hungry.
“Why?” He smiled. “Is there any stroganoff left?”
“No.” I smiled back. “Your sister was hungry. She ate her plate and yours.”
“Nice.” He groaned, walking over to me, dressed now in sweats, socks, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. “So you gonna cook for me now?”
“Sure,” I said, starting to get up.
“I’m kidding.” He grinned, flopping down, stretched out close, legs out in front of him.
“Put your foot up here.”
He didn’t hesitate. He lay down, shoved a pillow behind his head, and got comfortable. Both feet were on my thigh. As I began rubbing, he purred.
“You sound like you’re gonna come,” I teased him.
“Are you kidding?” he whimpered. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone rubbed my feet?”
I chuckled, running my knuckles under his arch, squeezing his heel firmly, digging my fingers into the ball of his foot. “How long?”
“Since the last time you did it,” he groaned, head back, showing off the long, vulnerable line of his throat. He looked so good at rest, sprawled out, arm flung over his eyes, moaning as I massaged the feet he’d been on all day and all night.
“You love the ‘Desperado’ guy, huh?”
It took him a minute. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, that song by the Eagles.”
“I know the song. I just don’t understand the reference.”
“You like a cowboy.”
He moved his arm and looked at me. “You think I only love you because you’re a bull rider?”
“I don’t know.”
He sat up but didn’t pull his foot away, his eyes on mine, and I noticed again, as I always did, how dark and deep they were and the ribbon of gold in them.
“You’re so pretty.”
He growled. “Jesus, Weber, I did not fall in love with a cowboy.”
“But you call me cowboy all the time.”
“It’s a nickname. I’ll change it. God, I had no idea you thought something so ridiculous. It’s just like you call me Doc sometimes. Same thing.”
I arched an eyebrow while rubbing hard on his left foot, and he jolted in my hands.
“Weber.” He sucked in his breath. “This guy, the guy rubbing my feet, the guy I just got to come home to, that’s the guy I want. He’s the one I love. I didn’t fall in love with a cowboy or a bull rider. I fell in love with you. Just you.”
I pushed his left foot away and pulled his right into my lap.
“Fuck,” he moaned and fell back, making me laugh.
“Man, I had no idea you were such a sucker for a foot rub.”
“Only from you, cow—Web.”
“It’s okay.” I sighed, moving my hand up his calf, pushing hard on the knotted muscles. “You can call me cowboy now that I know it don’t mean nothin’.”
“Just believe me,” he whined, and I could hear the need in his voice. “I don’t care, Web. I don’t! The job you do doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And you should stop caring what strangers think, or what people I know think, or what people you know think. What does it matter? What you do should only mean something to you, only make you happy.”
“But there has to be respect.”
“What respect? Me respecting you?” he asked irritably.
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Weber,” he said, his voice broken and needy and surrendering. “Baby, I respect you more than anyone else I know. You have done everything you wanted, your way, and you went for your dream instead of just sitting on your ass and talking about it.”
“But I didn’t make it,” I reminded him. “I ain’t a professional bull rider.”
“But you tried. That’s the crucial part.” He eased free of my grip, rolling to his knees, rising over me. I had to tip my head up to hold his gaze as he straddled my hips, sliding into my lap. “Most people never even have the balls to try.”
I grabbed hold of his ass, loving as always the feel of the firm, round globes under my palms, and yanked him forward, his groin shoved against my abdomen.
“I will never, ever get tired of you or bored with you,” he promised. “Don’t you see? I have no desire to watch you ride off into the sunset. I want you here, at home, every night, waiting for me to get here. Do you have any idea how bad I wanted to leave that fundraiser so I could get back to you?”
“How bad?” I asked, low and husky.
“Let me show you,” he said seductively, hands attacking the buttons on my shirt.
But it wasn’t what I wanted, so I stopped him, covering both his hands with one of mine, flattening them against my chest, the other lifting to his face, his cheek.
“Web?”
“Get up.”
“What? Why?”
“Get up,” I ordered him a second time. He stood, and I did as well.
“Go change into your pajamas and get in bed.”