his back. She’d probably caused hearing damage with how loud she’d screamed when she’d come.
There was pretty much no coming back from that.
Her dignity was toast.
He knew how much she wanted him. But the flipside was she knew how much he wanted her. And she suspected the fact that he had pretended that nothing had transpired between them was only evidence of just how much he wanted her.
Something about wanting her bothered him.
But then, he had come to this event all dressed up.
She couldn’t figure the man out.
And as much as it pained her to admit it, she sort of liked that about him. That he wasn’t easy. That she didn’t intimidate him. That he didn’t want her money or her influence. Everything about him that was so annoying was simultaneously also compelling, and that was just the whole thing.
“Come here,” he said, his voice suddenly hard. “I want to show you something.”
There was a big white tent that was still closed, reserved for an evening hors d’oeuvre session for people who had bought premium tickets, and he compelled her inside. It was already set up with tables and tablecloths, everything elegant and dainty, and exceedingly Maxfield. Though there were bottles of Cowboy Wines on each table, along with bottles of Maxfield select.
But they were not apparently here to look at the wine, or indeed anything else that was set up. Which she discovered when he cupped her chin with firm fingers and looked directly into her eyes.
“I’ve done nothing but think about you for two weeks. I want you. Not just something hot and quick against a wall. I need you in a bed, Wren. We need some time to explore this. To explore each other.”
She blinked. She had not expected that.
He’d been avoiding her and she’d been so sure it was because he didn’t want this.
But he was here in a suit.
And he had a look of intent gleaming in those green eyes.
She realized then she’d gotten it all wrong.
“I... I agree.”
She also hadn’t expected to agree.
But her heart was about to fly out of her chest, and she was achy and wet between her legs already. She sort of wanted to ask him if they could try it up against the wall of the tent. But she had a feeling that would only culminate in the two of them falling through the filmy fabric and embarrassing themselves.
She just didn’t have the willpower to resist him.
“I want you now,” she whispered, and before she could stop herself, she was up on her tiptoes and kissing that infuriating mouth.
She wanted to sigh with relief. She had been so angry at him. So angry at the way he had ignored this. Because how dare he? He had never ignored the anger between them. No. He had taken every opportunity to goad and prod her in anger. So why, why had he ignored this?
But he hadn’t.
They were devouring each other, and neither of them cared that there were people outside. His large hands palmed her ass, pulling her up against his body so she could feel just how hard he was for her. She arched against him, gasping when the center of her need came into contact with his rampant masculinity.
She didn’t understand the feelings she had for this man. Where everything about him that she found so disturbing was also the very thing that drove her into his arms.
Too big. Too rough. Crass. Untamable. He was everything she detested, everything she desired.
All that, and he was distracting her from an event that she had planned. Which was a cardinal sin in her book. And she didn’t even care.
He set her away from him suddenly, breaking their kiss. “Not now,” he said, his voice rough. “Tonight. All night. You. In my bed.”
“But can’t we just...”
“We are in a tent.”
“I don’t really care,” she said, amazed.
“You don’t?”
“Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown,” she said. “It’s entirely possible. It has been a very weird few months. And I just... I don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not sure I want to know who I am. You’re right. I’ve been in a box. And I didn’t want to admit it. I just wanted to be mad at you. I just wanted to yell at you. But then we kissed, and then we did other things, and I’ve spent the last two weeks being incredibly confused about it. But you know what confuses me most? That I’m not ashamed. But I’m