Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,22

now, even wider, even more muscular, blocking the stary sky behind him with the width of his shoulders? He gave his attention to Train Wreck. “It’s your shift to check the arena. You got it tonight?”

Train Wreck nodded. “I can do it tonight, but tomorrow I have a bucking practice late at night a few towns over.”

“I’ll take a shift tomorrow,” Quickdraw told him. “I’ll be there anyway for interviews.” And then Quickdraw turned and walked away, just like that. No goodbye.

“He always does that,” Train Wreck muttered. “When he’s done talking, he’s just gone. That, or he’ll punch me in the fuckin’ face for fun and then walk away, one or the other.”

Aw, Quickdraw was all cute and violent, which she thought was very attractive. She would’ve wondered what that said about her if she didn’t have a volatile wolf inside of her always urging her to start wars, too.

She liked this. Liked getting to know Quickdraw. Liked how much she understood him.

He made an astounding amount of sense to her.

“My advice, for what it’s worth?” Train Wreck said as they watched Quickdraw disappear around the corner of the building. “If you see us in the arena, don’t act like you know us. Stay separate. Just watch what’s happening around you. Don’t make it obvious, just use those wolf senses you got. This is the finals, and I have a bad feeling about it.”

Train Wreck strode away toward the parking lot, and as Annabelle watched him walk away, she couldn’t help but agree with him. She was getting that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach, too, and she’d learned long ago to always pay attention to her instincts.

Quickdraw was a mighty big target in all of this. She didn’t understand why anyone was going after the bulls yet, but she did understand one thing. The number one bull in the world wasn’t safe.

Not yet.

Chapter Six

Did she know?

Did she even know?

See, here was the thing about darkness. Once a man became accustomed to it, no one could drag him out. At least, that’s what Quickdraw had always believed. But one night with Annabelle had shaken everything up. She wasn’t some light and bright fairy princess that offset his darkness. She shared the shadows. He could tell in those raw moments: When she talked about being poisoned by a man. When she put a stop to that woman’s advances on him. When she talked about taking Filsa. When she offered to help and showed she knew exactly what her help would result in. When she spoke of him to Train Wreck like she needed Quickdraw to be the big, bad bull.

That woman didn’t want to drag him out of the darkness he’d become accustomed to. She didn’t need him to change. She asked questions instead, as if she wanted to understand the shadows he’d grown used to. More and more, she was holding his attention.

She was reserved in some ways, careful in some ways, a watcher in some ways. But she knew her place in this world and was confident in her animal side as well as her human side. She knew she was a badass, and that, to a man like him, was incredibly sexy.

He didn’t need a princess, and she sure as hell didn’t need a Prince Charming.

Annabelle was up at the bar with the girls, and Quickdraw was leaned back in his chair, watching her. God, she looked so fucking hot tonight. Tight wranglers hugging her curvy ass just right. He loved her ass. It filled his hands and had been so fun to grab onto while he’d railed her against the wall of his RV last month. And on the bed. And on the couch. Best night of his life. She’d been so wet for him. So open with him. So fun. She’d come five times, and then he’d watched her sleep afterward and wondered if anything had made him feel as full as her.

And now she was back with him, teal tank top hugging her full tits, flannel tied at her waist, red hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He liked it. He could see the shape of her high cheekbones when she had her hair pulled back like this, and those wolf-bright eyes that never darkened. God, his dick was getting hard right here in the middle of the bar.

Quickdraw leaned forward and thought of a dancing cactus to get rid of his boner.

“You love her,” Two Shots said from the seat