Her Christmas Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #5) - Jessica Clare Page 0,43
after that fiasco.
Parking the car behind the school and immediately molesting her was just . . . ugh. Who did that?
Greg, apparently.
“We’re hiding because I don’t want anyone to get into a fight,” Amy said in a soft voice as she sat down on the shoe bench and noticed he sat down next to her. “If you can promise me that you aren’t going to get into a fight with him, we can get out of this closet.”
It was all quiet for a minute. Their breathing evened out. Strains of “Silver Bells” carried through the school’s PA system.
“Guess we can stay for a bit,” he finally said. “Because I can’t promise I won’t punch his smug face.”
She let out a small laugh. “It is rather smug, isn’t it?”
“And punchable.”
Amy was pretty sure that Caleb had said more words to her in the last thirty seconds than he had in the entire last week, and, oh . . . she liked it. She liked it far too much for her own good.
“How long are we going to stay in here?” Caleb asked, and she jumped, startled at how close he was. Maybe it was the darkness in the closet or maybe it was just his sheer size, but he seemed to be everywhere. His shoulder was brushing her shoulder, his leg against her leg.
All this closeness? All this darkness? After he’d carried her away from the worst (and shortest) date ever?
She’d never been so turned on in her life.
Amy licked her lips nervously and shifted on her feet. “I don’t know how long we should stay in here. How long do you think it’ll take for him to give up?”
“Dunno. How are your feet?”
She was touched that he’d noticed. “They hurt like the dickens.”
“The boots?”
“Yeah, they’re awful.”
“Well, if we’re going to be in here for a bit, take ’em off.”
“Oh no, I’m sure it’s fine,” she began, only to let out a yelp of surprise when big hands clasped her calf and started working the zipper down her leg. Okay, she’d gone from turned on to practically coming out of her skin, all from that small touch. Why was his taking off her shoe so damn sexy? Lord have mercy, if her date had gone like this, she’d have never gotten out of the car. She clutched one of the low coat hooks jabbing into her shoulders as he moved across from her in the darkness and tugged one boot off. “You don’t have to . . .”
Her words died in a moan. The moment that boot came off her foot? It felt like paradise.
“Other foot,” he told her in a gruff voice.
She immediately obeyed. It didn’t matter that she was sitting in a poofy crinoline with smeared makeup on her face and duct-taped boobs as long as she could get those hated boots off. He pulled the other one off her foot with gentle, enormous hands . . . and then began to rub her foot through her sock.
His hands felt so good she nearly came. Instead, she bit her lip and fought back another moan. “You . . . you don’t have to do that,” she managed, breathless.
“Does it feel good?” His voice was low and gravelly again, and, oh god, he sounded amazing.
Sexy. Arousing. He could read her the phone book in that voice and her panties would get wet.
“It does feel good.”
“Then I’m happy to do it.” And those magical fingers rubbed the arch of her foot. This time, she couldn’t bite back the whimper of pleasure that erupted from her. God, he was going to think she was perverted with all the noises she was making. Greg was going to hear them simply from all the moaning she was doing. The other teachers would think . . . well, they’d think she was getting worked up by a cowboy in a coat closet, and they wouldn’t be wrong.
She’d never known her feet were such erogenous zones. Yet he kept rubbing them with those strong, amazing hands, and she never wanted him to stop.
Heck, if this kept up, she’d never want to leave the closet. Ever. She could just have her students bring her meals in here or something and she’d set up shop permanently with Caleb at her side.
“So . . . that was your date,” Caleb said after a long moment.
“Ugh. Yeah.”
“You can do better.”
He sounded so disgusted, his voice so flat, that she giggled. “It’s been a strange week. He was my Secret Santa,