Page 67 of Knot my First Rodeo

I stare at her for a second too long.

Then I ask, “You jealous?”

The question slips out before I can stop it, and the second it lands, Autumn’s whole face changes. Her mouth parts like she has ten different insults fighting to get out at once, but all that comes out is, “No.”

“Autumn.”

“I just think she’s annoying.”

“You broke her nose.”

“She was rude.”

My mouth twitches before I can stop it.

Her eyes narrow. “Don’t you laugh.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re thinking about it.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.”

“Try thinking about how she deserved it.”

I step closer, and she doesn’t back up. That’s the thing that gets me. She never does, not even when she probably should. She just lifts her chin and looks at me like I’m the problem, like she didn’t just punch a woman in the face because she touched me.

Everything in me locks down, then comes loose all at once. I don’t think, I lean in and kiss her.

My mouth crashes against hers hard, her lips parting as my tongue pushes straight in to taste her. She tastes just like she smells. I lick deep, sliding my tongue along hers in one rough stroke. My hand grabs the back of her neck, fingers digging into her skin while I suck on her lower lip, pulling it between my teeth for a quick bite before I dive back in. Our tongues tangle as I press my body forward, chest to chest, hips grinding once against her without meaning to.

She kisses me back immediately, no hesitation. Her fist catches in my shirt, yanking me closer, and her other hand slides up my side, nails scraping through the fabric. She sucks on my tongue, drawing it deeper into her mouth, then bites down just enough to make my cock twitch. Her body melts into mine for that second, soft curves fitting tight against me, and the whole damn world goes quiet enough that I forget we’re standing beside my truck in the feed store parking lot.

Then her scent hits me again. Stronger, wrong. Not wrong because it is bad, wrong because it shouldn’t be this strong. Not with what Hunter told us, not with suppressants.

The tiredness, the heat under her skin, and the mood swings.

I pull back fast.

Damn it.

Her eyes open slowly, unfocused for half a second before they sharpen. I drop my hand and take a step back, dragging air into my lungs that don’t feel like they’re doing their damn job.

“You’re not right.” The second the words leave my mouth, I know I chose wrong.

Her mouth tightens first, then her shoulders pull back and the warmth in her eyes goes flat enough to make something twist low in my gut.

“Oh, wow,” she says quietly. “Cool.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“Sure.”

“I mean something’s going on with you.”

She gives me a smile sharp enough to draw blood. “Yeah, apparently bad judgment.”

“Autumn.”