Reckless for Cowboy by Daire St. Denis

across the table from me.
    “Stop looking at me like that, Brooke.”
    “Like what?” I ask innocently.
    Using his fork, he points a piece of meat at me. “Like that. Like you want to rip my clothes off. You’re too injured to mess around.”
    “I’m fine.”
    He waits until he’s done chewing before answering. “You didn’t see yourself. You looked like a rag doll on Sugar’s back.”
    I tentatively move my neck around. It’s definitely stiff but I don’t say anything. However, Super Cooper , with his uncanny abilities of perception, must have seen some indication of pain on my face because he says, “See?”
    “See nothing.” I wave my hand dismissively. “So I’m a little sore. I think sex would help.”
    “Brooke.” The way he says my name all deep and exasperated, gives me the tingles. It doesn’t escape me that the tables have turned. That I’m the one wanting sex and he’s the one who’s saying ‘no’.
    I sigh with great exaggeration and say, “What are we going to do for the rest of the night? It’s only eight o’clock.”
    “We could watch a movie, play a game.”
    “I know a game,” I say brightly. “It’s called, How Many Times Can Cooper Make Brooke Come ? It’s really fun.”
    Cooper laughs and I love the sound. But apparently I haven’t swayed him because he stands and starts to gather up the plates. “Denny was right,” he says. “Underneath that sweet exterior, you are nasty.”
    “Yep.” I get up and approach him from behind, ignoring my stiffening muscles. He’s standing at the sink, running the water for dishes. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my chest into his back. “If I recall correctly, you like your women nasty.”
    He turns and with a smile of resignation, he says, “Only you, sweetheart.” He kisses me but it’s way too gentle for what I need. Way too chaste for what I want.
    I sigh again but he seems oblivious to my subtle hints. He is one tough cookie! “Fine,” I say when he turns back to the sink. “I think I’ll go take a bath. The heat will help. You don’t mind, do you?”
    “I don’t mind. As long as I can watch.”
    “Dirty boy.”
    He glances over his shoulder. He says one thing…“I don’t want you passing out in the tub.” But his eyes say something else altogether.
    “Mmm. Right.”
    “It’s the truth.”
    I don’t believe him because he leaves half the dirty dishes unwashed, takes me by the hand and leads me down the hall and through his bedroom where I happen to notice a king-sized bed covered in an old-fashioned style quilt. One wall is floor to ceiling windows with a view of the distant mountains, and the other wall is made up of overstuffed bookshelves. The ensuite is big, with an enormous soaker tub—nice—a western view—very nice—two mismatched blue towels, a plain white medicine cabinet, a razor and a toothbrush upright in a glass. No frills. Definitely a man’s bathroom. He turns on the faucet and says. “I’ll see if I can find some bubbles, then I’ll help you undress.”

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    T he warm scent of vanilla fills the room. Cooper steps closer and starts to undo my shirt.
    “I can do it myself.”
    “I’m sure you can, but I’d hate for you to strain yourself.”
    “Mmmm.”
    He slides my shirt off my shoulders and leaves my bra. Kneeling in front of me, he unsnaps my jeans. He tugs them over my hips and down my legs. I wriggle my pelvis to help and then raise one foot and then the other so he can pull them off.
    From where he’s kneeling on the floor, he looks up and I’m pleased to see how dark his eyes are. Maybe he hasn’t done anything inappropriate, but he sure is thinking about it. He stands up, facing me, just looking at me. Breathing slowly. Eventually, he reaches around my back, unsnapping my bra. With a flick of his fingers, the straps fall off my shoulders and my bra slithers to the ground. He’s chewing on his lower lip as he looks at me, never touching,