Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,40

woman he hadn’t been able to keep his mind off.

She’d asked to borrow one of his T-shirts to sleep in tonight. That was a good thing, right?

He didn’t know why he’d done it, but before she’d gone into the little bathroom to take a shower, he’d peeled off the shirt he was wearing and handed it to her just to see her reaction. No clean shirt. The animal in him wanted her to smell like him.

She’d gotten this wicked little glint in her eye and pulled it up to her nose, smelled it like she smelled everything. and hugged it to her chest as she told him, “It’s perfect.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

He wouldn’t sleep tonight.

Before big events, he never slept the night before. Instead, he did what he was doing right now, sitting on the couch, watching old riding tapes of whatever cowboy had drawn him. He always did his research. Now, it was even easier since Cheyenne managed him and always put together one big video of the riders for him and Two Shots and Dead.

Brandon Murphy would ride him tomorrow, and the next day Lee Bristol. Cheyenne had already sent the videos for both. She was a great manager.

Tonight, he was distracted by the noises in the bathroom. The soft hum of a song she was singing, the splashing of the water as, he imagined, she was washing her hair. The moments of silence that followed her turning off the shower. The soft noise the towel made against her skin. He hadn’t ever really appreciated his animal hearing until now.

On the television screen, Brandon was riding Two Shots from a few years ago, but in Quickdraw’s imagination, Annabelle was brushing her wet hair out in the steaming bathroom. Maybe she really was.

Shit, his dick was so hard. He’d pretty much carried a perma-boner between his legs since he’d picked her up from the airport.

“Hey, Quickdraw?”

“Yep?” he asked quick, sitting up and scrambling to turn the TV down.

“Are you ready to take our relationship to the next level?”

What did that mean? She wanted to say yes to his proposition? She wanted to be his lady? She wanted a tattoo of his name across her hip? He was good with any of it. “Hell, yeah.”

“Okay, prepare yourself. You are about to see me without makeup for the first time.”

She threw open the door, and he was struck dumb.

His beautiful goddess werewolf woman stood in the doorway, backlit by the bathroom lights, one hand on her hip, the other on the doorframe, wet hair tumbling down her shoulders, draped in a towel and nothing else.

Water droplets trailed down her collar bones, and her tits pushed against the teal terrycloth fabric.

And her face…her beautiful, natural, bare face was the best part of it all. Her cheeks were pink from the hot shower and her eyes still as bright blue. She had a soft smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose that had been covered by her makeup.

“Holy shit,” he said on a breath.

Annabelle scrunched up her cute little nose before she put her hands onto her chest and adjusted the top of the towel, but he didn’t want her to be insecure and cover up.

“Can I be honest with you?” Quickdraw asked.

“I would prefer it,” she murmured, dipping her blush toward the wood floors.

“You could never wear another stitch of makeup as long as you lived, and I would still think you’re the most beautiful woman on earth.”

Those flashy blue eyes lifted to his, and a shy, sexy smile curved her full lips. “Really?”

“I don’t blow smoke. I like to say things how they are. Really.”

She bit the corner of her lip and swayed her hips. There was a brush in her hand that he gestured to. “You want me to brush out your hair while we watch rider tape?”

“You would brush out my hair?” she asked, and her voice had wrenched up an octave in the cutest little excited tone he’d ever heard.

“Well, I ain’t ever done it before, but you seem like the type of woman to let me know if I’m being too rough.”

She sashayed to him and then did this cute-as-hell tippy-toe dance that made him laugh. God, how could a woman be this cute and sexy at the same time?

She handed him the brush and sat down on the floor in front of him between his knees. And as he sat there, taking a moment to appreciate just how much she’d opened up

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