When I first began writing Evan's story, he spoke so clearly to me. "I need to tell my story. I need to have my happily ever after." I apologize for taking so long, but I'm pretty sure Shayna was worth the wait.
End of His Rope
Book 3 of the Cowboy Rough Series
An excerpt from End of His Rope
“You gonna eat?” Josh tried to maneuver on a crutch through the maze of furniture. “She cooks like a dream.”
Evan’s stomach growled, reminding him he was hungry. But another part of him was hungrier, a part he couldn’t feed. That didn’t stop him from rising and running a hand over his hair to smooth out the hat creases. “Yeah, smells good.”
Josh nodded. “Right behind you. Just gotta put a shirt on.”
Without waiting to see if Josh needed help, Evan wandered down the hall to the kitchen. He stalled against the doorframe, suddenly not knowing where to stand or what to say. She seemed unaware of his presence while his body raged with so many emotions he couldn’t figure out which one to focus on first. He didn’t even try.
Better to see which way the wind blew. Taking a fortifying breath, he readied himself for the worst. Then again, it had been a long time and maybe she’d forgotten all about him and what he’d done to her. And maybe he’d grow wings and a halo. “It’s good to see you, too, Shay.”
A slight pause as she reached for the biscuit pan was the only indication she’d heard him or even realized he was in the vicinity. She shut the oven door, turned it off, and set the biscuits on the stovetop. “Supper’s ready.”
It was odd to see her in a domestic capacity, her actions precise and efficient as she fussed about, adding spoons to the bowls of steaming food and gathering condiments from the fridge. Everything smelled good, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her to check out what his growling stomach told him to get busy eating.
“If you’ll put the food away when you’re done,” she said, moving the salt and pepper from the stove to the table, “I’ll clean up in the morning.”
His gaze flew from her hands to her face. “You’re not eating?”
“I’m coming off a fifty-six-hour shift.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel, then draped it over the back of a chair. “I’m about to crater.”
Disappointed but more than a little relieved, he turned sideways to let her by. But instead of brushing past him, she stopped in the doorway and laid a hand on his chest. His stomach clenched, and his heart slammed against his ribs.
“I promised myself,” she said as she rose on her tiptoes and leaned against him, “if I ever saw you again…”
Her other hand wound around his neck, and her gaze fell to his lips as she closed the space between them. He sucked in a breath, catching the vanilla scent that never failed to make him think of her. His dick swelled behind the fly of his jeans.
In the next heartbeat, her mouth met his, and her body, warm and supple, melted against him. Shock and uncertainty ricocheted through him, lust hot on their tail. He didn’t know why she’d want to kiss him after what he’d done, and he still wasn’t sure if she was Josh’s “the one,” but fuck if he cared. He wanted the kiss, wanted what it would lead to if she were willing.
His first instinct was to take control, but when her tongue flicked his bottom lip, he curled his fingers into fists at his sides to keep from hauling her closer. He’d lost control with her once and wouldn’t make that mistake again. He hadn’t known what he was back then, hadn’t known how to control his needs.
Instead, he opened for her, allowing her to explore at her own pace. Unlike her kisses when they first met, she wasn’t shy about her exploration. The kiss took him back to the time near the end, after he’d taught her what he liked and how to please him.
Her tongue danced around his, drawing him out, luring him into the hot cavern of her mouth. She sucked him deeper, her cheeks contracting around his tongue. His cock jerked at the first slow pull, and heat pooled in his balls.
The suction on his tongue eased, and the fingers at his neck slipped away. Her teeth nipped his lower lip. “Goodnight, Evan.”
Her slight weight lifted, and Evan opened his eyes as she turned and strolled down the hall, passing Josh, who, by his expression, had obviously seen the kiss. They both watched her round the newel post and trot up the stairs.
Josh gave a low whistle and wobbled closer. He didn’t look pissed or hurt, so maybe they weren’t a thing. “And here I thought the two of you parted in a bad way.”
Evan blew out a long breath and wandered into the kitchen. He slumped into the nearest chair. “We did.”
“Guess she’s not holding a grudge.” Josh settled across from him and handed him a plate.
“Guess not.” Every now and then, he’d thought about how it would play out if they ever met again. He’d expected the silent treatment, for her to pretend she’d forgotten him. Mostly, he figured there’d be some yelling, though Shayna hadn’t been a yeller. But he’d have welcomed a few pots and pans thrown at his head.
Not once had he ever imagined she’d kiss him like that. As if nine years hadn’t separated them, as if it were only yesterday they’d made out under the willow by the lake. As if he hadn’t taken her virginity in a careless manner, out of control with both jealousy and lust, then left town the next morning without a word.
“Looked like an invitation to me.”
Lost in thought, Evan barely heard Josh’s words spoken around a mouthful of buttered biscuit. An invitation? His dick jumped, ready to RSVP.
“All I know is—” Josh swallowed and took a drink of iced tea. “—if I got an invitation like that, I wouldn’t be sitting here with your sorry ass.”
Normally, Evan wouldn’t either. He was accustomed to going after what he wanted. But something he hadn’t felt in a long time crept up his spine and kept his sorry ass stuck in the chair. He’d like to think he knew better than to try to relive the past. But that wasn’t it. He’d like nothing more than to have Shayna in his bed, to make up for how he’d treated her before, to use what he’d learned over the years and give her the pleasure he’d denied her back then. Just the thought of her bound and gagged…
Fear. Plain and simple fear. And guilt. God, the guilt. What if he lost control again? Hurt her again? Shayna had a way of pushing his buttons like no other woman could or had since. Worse, she’d learn what he’d become. He wouldn’t be satisfied with vanilla sex, not with her, and he couldn’t look in those big brown eyes and see her disgust. No, better just to steer clear for the next few days. She’d be gone again Friday.
Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B37T7BLL
