Free Rawhide and Roses by Maddie James Page A

her ear, his voice low and husky. “Or the whole damn camp will come running. I really don’t think you want them to find us in this compromising position, do you?”
    Anger boiling inside her, Kim silently and wholeheartedly agreed with the familiar voice—then sank her teeth deep into the thick, fleshy meat of Thad’s palm.
    ****
    How in the hell Kim Martin had ended up in his tent, and his sleeping bag, Thad had no idea. But here she was, his arm wrapped around her almost nude body; her teeth sunk deep into the palm of her hand.
    He’d woke to the sound of softened voices coming toward the tent. When he recognized Tim Rumer’s mingling with Kim’s, he’d cringed inwardly, wondering if Kim had intentions of letting Tim keep her company throughout the night. After all, they had seemed to quickly become cozy earlier in the day. At that point a glimmer of something he didn’t want to define sliced through him. If he had to put a name to it, he would have called it jealousy, but he wasn’t going to name it. There was no reason for him to be jealous of Tim Rumer or anyone else.
    Kim Martin was off limits. Period.
    She’d crept in like a cat and hastily zipped the tent closed behind her. He’d breathed a sigh of relief knowing that he’d have to deal with just her and not the two of them. As he watched her in the dark, Thad let his eyes adjust to the tent’s blackness—obviously quicker than hers had—for he had to garner every bit of self-control he could muster to not move a muscle.
    His cheeks heated as he watched her hands flutter to her neck and hastily work their way down the front opening of her shirt. His stomach tightened as she jerked it away from her body and tossed it aside. His blood thrummed in his ears when she reached up between her breasts and quickly unclasped the front closure of her bra, allowing her ample mounds of flesh sudden freedom.
    Like radar, his gaze zoomed in on the rounded globes. The only thing that broke his concentration of imagining how they would feel in the palm of his hand, was the fact that her own hands had traveled lower to her jeans.
    At the familiar ripping sound of the zipper, he’d felt all the blood in the lower half of his body zing to his already swollen groin and had to stifle a moan.
    God, how he hated himself at that moment. But as much as he hated himself, for laying there so still, feeling rather voyeuristic, he still imagined his hands snaking inside the front of her jeans, smoothing his palms around her hips and inching denim and lace away from her body very slowly, savoring every sensation of the feel of her rounded buttocks and her soft skin in his hands.
    Yes, he knew she would be soft. A woman like her had to be soft.
    Damn!
    By the time she’d taken off her boots and whooshed her jeans off her body, his blood was boiling in his veins from the sensuality of the moment. Just what in the hell did he think he was doing? If word of this got out, his reputation as a solid businessman would sail away on a Rocky Mountain breeze.
    He had to get out of here—and fast!
    As her hands patted the tent floor before her, searching for her sleeping bag and mumbling something incoherent, he held his breath and simply watched. She was blocking the entrance to the tent. There was no way out of this. He was going to have to face this dilemma.
    Head on.
    With her reaching for the zipper and then jerking the sleeping bag open, Thad knew he had no choice but to make his presence known as quickly and as quietly as possible. He sure as hell didn’t need the whole camp converging on them at that moment.
    The second her flesh met his and she jumped back he knew that was exactly what would happen if she screamed. That’s why he’d clamped his hand over her mouth and hauled her luscious body back down next to his.
    Damn! How he wished he’d at least left his shirt on. How he wished he hadn’t touched her, at all. She was just as soft as he’d known she would be. And his hand