Cowboy Player: Cowboy Cocktail, Book 3 by Mia Hopkins Page B

eye.
    “You hungry?” she asked. “I made a pot of rice and some chicken adobo . Harmony was too excited to eat, so there’s plenty.”
    Filipino chicken stew with garlic and vinegar. Clark raised his eyebrows. “Your mom’s recipe?”
    She nodded.
    “I guess I could suffer through that,” he joked, following her inside. All the MacKinnon boys had loved her mom’s home cooking.
    They kept the lights off. An oscillating electric fan stirred the warm, dark air in the kitchen as they ate. For dessert, Melody cut open a ripe watermelon. The sweet red juices gathered in a pool on her plate.
    “I wanted to ask you something,” Clark said, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “Jerome’s ready to launch his truck. A local news crew is going to show up tomorrow to tape a promotional spot. He wants us there with him.”
    “On camera?” she asked. “Why?”
    “He wants to push that he’s serving grass-fed beef. He’s changed the name of the truck too.” Clark gave her a goofy grin. “It used to be The Big Jerome. But now he’s calling it Cowboy Burgers.”
    Melody gave a bark of laughter. “Really? That’s great! I’d love to do it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait. Are you…the cowboy?”
    Clark shrugged. He’d hung his hat by the door. He was still distractingly shirtless. “I guess I am.”
    “So you’re the spokesmodel? The mascot?” She paused. “Jerome’s…muse?”
    “Hey, it’s not like that. He’s a just friend.” Clark gave her a crinkle-eyed smile. “Like you.”
    She rolled her eyes. “If that’s the case, then there’s definitely something shady going on between you two.”
    Her words hit too close to home. A quick flash of sadness touched Clark’s expression. He blinked it away, stood up and cleared the dishes. Melody shook her head at herself, feeling like a fool.
    Don’t make jokes like that.
    She followed him to the kitchen counter and turned on the water to begin washing the dishes.
    Then, behind her, she felt him again.
    He was standing so close her body heat reflected against his. Her hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head; his breath washed over her exposed nape. She wanted him so badly that she became aroused at once, her body clenching up, her nipples hardening, her senses on high alert. He hadn’t even touched her.
    “Shady, huh?” His hot whisper burned her skin. “You and me. Is that what you think we are?”
    They hadn’t avoided each other. Not exactly. But they had made every effort not to be alone together, to avoid temptation and to keep their promise to each other.
    But now Melody’s rules dissolved under the tremendous weight of wanting him.
    “I want you so bad it hurts,” he whispered.
    Breathless, she turned around, grabbed him and smashed her lips to his. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and ran her hands through his thick dark hair. His mouth was cold from the watermelon. As they kissed like the universe was collapsing around them, Clark wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her hard against him, crushing her against all his muscle and heat.
    “I need you now. Right fucking now,” he growled against her lips. A man on a mission, he unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down along with her panties. He lifted her and set her on the counter, right on the ledge of the sink. Melody kept her balance as Clark’s fast hands undid his buckle, unbuttoned his fly, magically produced a condom and rolled it on in the space of ten seconds.
    And then his arms were around her. Holding on to his shoulders for dear life, Melody wailed as Clark surged forward, burying himself inside her in one long, violent thrust. Pleasure flooded her bloodstream like a powerful narcotic. Clark’s big thumbs rubbed her nipples through the fabric of her shirt as he kissed her, his wicked tongue tangled with hers, thick and sweet and ravenous.
    Melody turned to liquid around him. Still locked in his kiss, she reached down between them and began to