Ropin' Trouble (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 2) by Rhonda Lee Carver

back.”
    “Turn and let me take a look.” His gaze slipped past her chest, her stomach and she crossed her arms over her chest, vulnerability easing through her.  “If it’s a bee sting you could still have the stinger in your skin, which could cause infection. We can’t let that happen. You’re in Nirvana and that bee just wanted a little taste of honey.”
    How did he do that? How did he make everything seem okay? How did he make her concerns seem ridiculous? In actuality, her fears were silly. She was being silly. James was gone and she was moving on. The internal scars were fading.
    Reluctantly, she turned and closed her eyes. His breath rushed from his lungs and she jerked. Then he was quiet for the longest time. Was he silently gawking at her large butt or her huge thighs? She’d never claimed to be a supermodel and never wanted to be. She read in a magazine that men liked juicy butts, but what exactly did ‘juicy’ mean? Seconds turned into a minute. She started to turn back but he stopped her with a hand on her waist.  “What is it, Ben?”
    “It’s definitely a bee sting, darlin’.” His voice was smooth as silk.
    “Then get it out fast. This is awkward standing here with my pants down around my ankles.”
    “Well, sweetheart, there’s a problem.”
    She didn’t like the sound of that. “A problem?” Before he could stop her again, she swiveled, eyeing him in question.
    “I don’t have tweezers to properly remove the stinger.”
    “We don’t need tweezers. Use your nails.” Her body was on fire.
    He rubbed his chin. “I don’t have nails and I have to be careful. I don’t want to break off the stinger and more venom get into your body. The more venom, the longer the suffering. But I do know a way. I’ve used the technique many times, just not in that area.” He shifted his worn boots.
    “What are you talking about?” She just wanted to get the dang stinger out of her skin so she could get her pants back on and forget the humiliation.
    “Can you trust me?”
    He used the golden word. Trust was one word that was very close to evil in her vocabulary. He was asking something huge and he couldn’t even begin to understand. She inhaled deeply and exhaled through tight lips. He wasn’t James. He was a friend and had treated her with kindness and consideration. “We can go back to the treehouse. There must be a pair of tweezers there.”
    “Can you sit? How will we get you back? I can carry you on my back.”
    “No, He-Man.” She sighed. “I can’t let you do that, no matter how big your muscles are.” Her temples pounded.
    “Then trust me, okay? I promise it’ll be over in seconds.”
    He looked at her with such sincerity that she didn’t think it would be possible to do anything but what he asked. “Yes.”
    “Lie stomach down on the blanket.” He spread it back out for her.
    Every warning in her head blasted a refusal, but she ignored it as she sunk to her knees and lay down. She was fully aware of the fact that she was exposed in the daylight, every flaw open to his perusal. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t sit, at least while the stinger was in her skin, and she certainly couldn’t allow him to carry her all of the way, who knows how far, to the treehouse. Putting her jeans back on wasn’t an option right now. The pain was horrible.
    His touch came lightly and she knew he was being careful more for her sanity and not the bee sting.
    But what happened next was neither good for her stability or her libido because her wall burst into a million pieces around her. She felt his warm breath against her backside, callused fingers on her flesh.  She jerked a glance over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” Her voice squeaked.
    “Relax.” Then his mouth was on her skin, his teeth smoothed across her heated thigh and she forgot about the pain, or the fact that his head was inches away from a part of her that was tingling. She concentrated on the spiraling