Free Hers to Choose (Cannon Cousins) by Lizzie Ashworth

have the most perfect male body she had ever seen and
she wanted him so much she hurt.
    She seriously needed to
have her head examined if she thought she could have some kind of casual dalliance
with Alex Cannon. Everything about him pulled on her, much more than sexual
attraction. How was that even possible? She hardly knew him. Damn it.
    She hurried to the
kitchen where she fidgeted with dinner. Surely he would want to eat now,
instead of waiting for Dan.
    “Miss McClure.”
    He loomed in the kitchen
doorway in his pants, socks, and no shirt, his dark hair whirled into wet
peaks. What the hell could be wrong now?
    “I have just showered and
shampooed without the benefit of the soap and shampoo I requested. Is there
some reason you didn’t get them?”
    Shit. How could she go
through that entire list and forget to turn the page over? Damn Brent Thompson.
“I—thought I...it was on the back. I guess...I must have overlooked it. I’m
sorry...”
    His cobalt eyes burned
into her across the room.
    “Did you, uh, want to
have dinner now?”
    “I see you aren’t in your
outfit,” he continued in an annoyed voice. “Dan was specific.”
    He made her crazy. In a
fury, she lifted the sweater over her head and threw it down on the floor
before unlatching the bra, then kicked off her boots and shimmied out of the
jeans. “Is that good enough?” she demanded. She felt his inspection burning on
her breasts and her thong-clad crotch as she shoved her feet back into the
boots.
    “You only have to please
Dan. About dinner, I’m starving. So yes, bring it please.”
    She heard him seating
himself as she sliced off a hunk of meatloaf and spooned up the mashed
potatoes. Nothing about him now seemed remotely connected to the intense
pleasure he had given her that morning. Why this distant, condescending attitude? But, she reminded herself, wasn’t this better? Wouldn’t this help her
stop wanting him?
    And there was this detail
about her being submissive. To Dan.
    The heavy plate of food
made a satisfying thump as she set it on the white tablecloth. She hurried back
with the iced tea and the salad.
    “Anything else?” she
managed. His scent was driving her crazy.
    He swallowed and wiped
his mouth with the napkin. “Yes, add the nipple chain.”
    Her clit stiffened as she
latched the silver clips onto her hard nipples.
    “Sit down,” he said.
    The clips’ metallic links
picked up the candle reflection as she pulled out a chair.
    “So Miss McClure, I’m
curious about your circumstances. Don’t you believe your situation is somewhat
precarious, living here alone?”
    She sat in silence for a
moment, considering what he said, her mind briefly skipping over Brent
Thompson. “I never saw it that way. I grew up roaming around this land. I’ve
got guns, I know how to use them.”
    “But a young woman
alone...” He paused from eating and sipped tea. “Do you always live here?”
    “Only
the last year. I’ve made it my place now.”
    “I see. And no man around to help out?”
    “I don’t need a man to
help out,” she said, stiffening. Ethan, the despicable ass, wouldn’t have a
clue about which end of a hammer to use, much less how to build a fire. “My
experience is that men don’t necessarily have anything worthwhile to offer.”
    He eased his fork down to
the table and stared at her in the dim light. “Is that right?”
    “Yes,” she continued,
lifting her chin slightly.
    “And in your vast
experience with men, have you concluded anything else?”
    “Well,” she considered,
“yes...that men can be a pain in the ass.” She bit her lip, wondering if she was
pushing it too far.
    He finished off the food
on his plate, leaned back, and crossed his arms across his bare chest. A faint
smile hovered on his lips. Or, she thought, maybe it was simply the pleasure of
no longer being cold and hungry.
    “Help me understand,” he
began, keeping her locked in his luminous stare. “You’re incredibly beautiful,
live