Claimed By The Devil - Joanna Blake Page 0,5

body, either.

My brain was craving her, too.

I’d wanted to listen to her talk. Stare at her. Get to know all about her. Never mind wanting to pounce on her, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her away with me. Not just wanted, either. That was too soft of a word. I’d needed to get closer to her.

It had taken an act of extreme willpower for me to walk away from her instead of running toward her like I’d wanted to. Now the air felt empty. Like there had been an electrical charge in the very atoms. But without her there, it was gone.

I knew it sounded crazy, but there it was. The fucking planet shifted when I saw Melissa. Gravity disappeared. The sky could have been the freaking ground beneath my feet for all I knew.

Hell, my whole world has been rocked.

"Let's just take an easy walk," I offered Hendrix, deciding not to saddle him. I didn't ride him very often anymore. Mostly, we just went for slow strolls around the grounds. Honeycutt Stables wasn’t fancy—hell, I couldn’t have afforded it if it was—but it did have a gorgeous plot of land for the horses to roam and it was really well managed. I knew Hendrix got lots of exercise in the afternoons out in the fields with the other horses that were stabled here, along with the ‘lesson ponies’ that kids learned to ride on. But it was different when I took him out. It was our time together. I knew that if I didn't come every couple of days, he got lonely, but I tried to come five days a week if I could. He needed the one on one time.

Hell, I needed the one on one time too. Maybe more than he did. I had my fellow Devil’s Riders, but that was it. And most of them had families to go home to at night. I’d been more or less on my own since I was barely a teen, and in a lot of ways, I still was.

I didn’t belong to anyone except my horse and my club.

At least he has her, I thought to myself, feeling a little bit jealous of my horse. Melissa had always taken such good care of him. Lucky dog, I thought, giving my horse the stink eye. I wouldn’t mind having her gorgeous hands rub me down after a brisk run, or feed me apples . . . and I would be more than happy to eat just about anything out of her palm.

Fuck, man, my horse really did have it made.

I clicked my tongue and he followed me out of his stall. It was hard not to notice that his once sure footing was more tentative and strained. My heart twisted, just like it did every time I noticed that he was declining.

"It sucks getting old, doesn't it, buddy?"

“You're not old,” I heard a teasing voice joke from the doorway behind me. I turned and stared. There she was, lugging a bale of hay, looking cute as a button with a thin sheen of sweat on her skin. How the hell did she do that, look cute and sexy at the same time?

Honestly, Melissa was a walking pinup girl. With hay in her hair, that turned up little nose, and pouty lips . . . never mind that the way those tight jeans fit her was pretty much illegal. She had a plaid shirt tied at her waist, accentuating her curves and hourglass figure. She even had a pitchfork.

Down, boy.

I said something barely audible and forced myself to keep walking.

What the hell was I going to do? I couldn't keep my hands off her forever if I kept coming around. I knew in my gut that I wasn’t going to be able to stay away even if I tried to move Hendrix somewhere else. But . . . if I avoided her as much as humanly possible, would this crazy feeling go away?

Nope. Don’t even bother, dumbass. You’re hooked.

I closed my eyes and I saw her indescribably pretty face with all those little golden strands dangling around it. Oh, my fucking God, it was cute. I’d never fucking noticed a woman's hairstyle before. And now I was noticing her lack of some contrived hairstyle and how fucking adorable it was.

I walked Hendrix briskly out into the fields, fighting the urge to run like hell. I went as far as I could go. Then I sat down on a log