Free One Hot Cowboy by Anne Marsh

was driving him crazy, the way
    she seemed to want to get closer. Getting
    both hands wrapped around her, he cupped
    her neck and her cheek, pulling her mouth
    down onto his. She could still leave. It
    wouldn’t take much effort. Those fingers
    curling into his shoulders could push, and
    he’d let go.
    When their lips met, he took control
    ruthlessly. He wouldn’t pretend this was
    anything but what it was. The two of them
    wanting each other.
    The rain coming down around them was
    slowing now. He should have gotten her
    inside the truck and out of the rain, but all
    he could do was kiss her and kiss her, his
    mouth devouring hers, his lips parting hers.
    She opened up for him, and he swept
    inside. Stroking and tasting. Learning every
    inch of this part of her. His Rose was so
    damned sweet.
    The scent of her wrapped around him,
    surrounding him every bit as much as her
    sexy little whimpers. She liked this. God,
    Rose liked this, and that set him on fire.
    When she finally pulled back, sucking in
    air as if to clear her head and get free of
    the sensual snare he’d set, he held on tight.
    “Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t stop, Rose.”
    She gazed at him in misty confusion.
    That kiss had changed everything.
    “We’re not just friends anymore,” he
    warned, and he saw the small shock of
    surprise in her eyes.
    “Friends?” she echoed.
    He shook his head. Hadn’t she realized
    he considered her a friend? Certainly a
    friend of the family, at least.
    “No . . . no, I guess we’re not,” she said
    softly. Then something mischievous lit up
    those gray eyes of hers. “Friends with
    benefits?” she whispered against his
    mouth, her arms around his neck.
    The rain was disappearing, sweeping
    over the next hill. The low growl of the
    thunder faded, and all that was left was the
    scent of wet ground and wet metal and the
    very wet woman in his arms.
    She watched his face, and he didn’t
    know what she expected to see there.
    They’d shared a kiss, more than a kiss, and
    now she had one hot cowboy on her hands.
    He didn’t know what she wanted. All he
    knew was that this was one of those
    moments he’d always remember. She was
    making a memory for him, for them,
    whether she knew it or not. And he’d do
    his damnedest to make certain that memory
    was a good one. Scooping her up, he set
    her on her feet.
    “You wanted to dance,” he said. “So
    dance with me, Rose.”
    Pulling her up into a slow, sensual two-
    step, he danced her in a slow circle as the
    last of the raindrops came down around
    them. It was just the two of them, the
    lowing cattle singing them a little song in
    the background, and that metallic scent of
    the pickup wet with rain. The rain wasn’t
    enough to solve his water issues, but right
    now, for just this moment, he didn’t give a
    damn.
    “Cabe . . .” she got out. She was looking
    for words, an explanation for this sudden
    shift in their relationship, and maybe she
    was right. Some things had to be said, no
    matter how much he wished they didn’t.
    He gave her as much honesty as he
    could. “You’re so damn beautiful, Rose.”
    And even that was an understatement, he
    thought, smoothing the damp strands of hair
    away from her face. “You always have
    been.” Was that a flash of surprise in her
    eyes? Did she want him to say something
    else?
    “You never seemed to think so before,”
    she pointed out. She hadn’t let go of his
    shoulders, though, so he figured he still had
    a chance.
    “Hell, Rose,” he growled. “You wanted
    me to tell one of my kid brothers’ friends
    that I thought she was the prettiest girl I’d
    ever seen? That wouldn’t have been
    appropriate, and we both know it.”
    “So now I’m older, it’s all okay?” Her
    eyes laughed quietly up at him. “We
    probably shouldn’t . . .”
    There was no probably about it, but, if
    she’d let him hold her, he’d be holding.
    And doing whatever else she’d allow.
    Her leg—her bare leg—shifted,