He must have heard the disappointment in my voice, because he was up on his side, taking my hand and looking down at me. And those eyes . . . His expression was soft, and yes, there was a hint of frustration, and his brows were drawn together.
“Mouse, I’m not fucking you on the floor of a barn, and if I don’t stop kissing you, I will fuck you.” I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling—he liked the kiss. Sculpt jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “I’m taking you home. And tomorrow, you’re hearing me play.”
“I am?” His voice already turned me on. I couldn’t imagine him singing, what it would do to me.
He hauled me to my feet and swept my hair back over my shoulder, his fingers lingering on my neck. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow.” His fingers laced with mine, and he walked me out of the barn.
I stopped dead. The horses were grazing on the hillside. The sun was setting over the horizon, and their coats glistened in the orange rays. Magnificent.
Sculpt moved behind me, wrapped his arms around my middle, and pulled me snug against him. “I see you looking for them the moment we drive up. They’re something special to you, aren’t they?” His words whispered across my ear, and I shivered. God, hearing him sing . . . I was going to lose myself to him.
“Yeah. I love them.” And then I told him my dream, one I knew was just that—a dream. I was practical, and I knew horses were a luxury. I’d have to win a lottery to have my dream come true. “I want to have my own horse farm one day. I’d take in abused and unmanageable horses and teach them how to feel beautiful and proud again.”
He moved in closer, and his finger tucked my hair back behind my ear. “A trophy, Eme.”
The lead mare lifted her head and whined, her flank quivering with her call. The brilliant sleek chestnut started trotting up the hill, and the others followed.
I came here whenever I could, learning how they communicated, watching their body language with one another. I’d even been taking riding lessons for the past two years, and the owner of the barn let me work off payment by grooming the horses. I’d spend the rest of my life on a horse farm if I could, but instead I was going to college for accounting in September. My dad used to say, “Princess, you’ve a head for numbers. My little accountant.” So, I was hoping to get my accounting license then maybe get into a corporate company. Matt said when I graduated I could be his accountant for the bar, but I wanted to do this on my own. I’d relied on Matt enough throughout my life in order to get away from my mother.
Sculpt licked the tip of my ear lobe, and a thrill of excitement swept through my body. “I’ll bring you here anytime you want.”
Was I crazy believing that this guy liked me? Why did he want me when he could have any girl? I wasn’t even a blonde for God’s sake.
I followed him to the bike, then slid on behind him. His hand squeezed my thigh, and I stopped fiddling with my helmet strap to look at him.
“It goes both ways, Mouse.”
“What?”
“If I have you, I’ll never touch another woman.”
Chapter 3
The next day I was making my last espresso before ending my shift when I heard the ding from the door and Georgie’s gasp of, “Get me some new panties.” She always said that when a hot guy came in. “Well . . . look who it is.”
Georgie owned the coffee shop. She was twenty-four, with pink streaks in her hair and probably more tattoos than Sculpt. She was also sweet, sassy, and her no-bullshit attitude had many men dropping their jaws. I think she tried to shock them and took delight in making them squirm. The only one she couldn’t make squirm was Deck, a friend of hers. I don’t even think Deck smiled.
But Georgie had no trouble trying her skills on the newcomer. “Hey there delicious. Been a while. What can I put between your sweet lips?”
I sputtered a laugh, turning with a steaming hot cup in my hand. The second my eyes hit Sculpt my breath seized. He stood at the counter in overly worn blue jeans and a white T-shirt with his sexy bedroom hair messy from the light breeze. He caught me staring, and his eyes darkened which sent a twinge deep in my womb. He winked then met Georgie’s engrossed gaze. I almost fainted at seeing him wink; it just wasn’t Sculpt. He was stoic and stern, not playful.
“Just Emily, Georgie.”
Georgie’s eyes widened, and then she looked over her shoulder at me. “Don’t tell me the make-out worthy eye candy you’ve been gabbing about for weeks is Sculpt?”
“Oh my God,” I muttered beneath my breath, utterly humiliated. My hands shook while I poured a shot of milk into the cup then walked over to the side counter and slid the espresso to the waiting customer. Georgie obviously knew who Sculpt was, and by Sculpt’s words he knew her. Wasn’t really surprising; Georgie knew a lot of people.
My cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire, and when I glanced over at Sculpt he was staring at me expectantly. “Make-out worthy? Did she say that, Georgie?”
Georgie’s brows rose revealing her dark gold-and-purple eye shadow. “Oh yeah. Girl’s been panting over you for weeks.” Then she leaned forward, both palms flat on the marble surface of the counter. “But being a cupcake doesn’t mean you know how to treat a girl. And I know you Sculpt, you don’t know how to treat a girl. Shit, don’t even remember you being with a girl. Treat this one like fucking crystal. She’s something special. You hurt her, you’re hurting me, and you know where hurting me leads.”