Stripped Down by Anne Marsh Page B

gonna get an eyeful.
    I pull my hand away.
    Rose whimpers.
    I actually debate yelling for Axel to go away and then finishing her. She’s so close, and I’ve waited so long for this.
    Axel barrels into the room, on a mission to empty the fridge. He’s halfway there before he even realizes we’re there.
    “Whoa,” he says, coming to a halt.
    Rose gives him a half smile that makes his eyes narrow. Yeah, he smells trouble. Since I’m pinning Rose to the counter, I also block his view and that’s fucking convenient. She’s mine, not his.
    So shoot me. I’m a possessive bastard.
    “New ink?” Axel asks, his gaze dropping to Rose’s bare leg. It’s about all he can see of her, and that’s just because she’s decided to drive her heel into my thigh. I’m lucky I didn’t park her above the knife drawer, because she’d probably go for my balls.
    The tattoo in question is part of the vine-tree-thing that stretches over her spine. I can see two yellow flowers and one pink.
    “Yeah,” she says quietly. “I did it myself.”
    “Didn’t it hurt?” He rummages in the fridge for sandwich fixings. Rose flushes, like she’s wondering if he knows what we were doing. If he’s silently judging us.
    She shrugs. “Pain’s relative.”
    What the fuck has she seen or done that makes her so blasé about tracing a needle over her own thigh? Axel sees something too, because he nods slowly. I scoop Rose off the counter and drop her on her feet. She elbows me hard in the stomach, and I’m pretty sure she was aiming for Mr. Happy.
    “Grab your shoes.” I smack her on the butt too, and I can practically hear her brain explode. She’s torn between yelling at me and plotting a sneakier, more painful demise for me. This is where I have the advantage because I grew up with two brothers and an endless supply of cousins. This, followed by two tours of duty with the US Navy, has made me an expert on aggravation and practical jokes.
    “Rose is riding out with me,” I tell Axel. “We’re gonna check on the water trough on the south side.”
    Axel nods like this is perfectly normal and crams the remains of his first sandwich into his mouth. Usually, it’s his job to check the troughs, so he scores out of this one as I herd Rose toward the door. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I lean down so I can whisper in her ear. My dirty girl likes that.
    “If I have to come get you, I’m finishing what we started in the kitchen wherever I find you.”
    She turns red as a peony. “That was all you in there,” she hisses.
    As if her pussy wasn’t wet.
    I glide my hand down her arm and over the pulse banging in her wrist. She’s excited and we both know it.
    “Tell me no and I’ll go away,” I tell her.
    She doesn’t.

    ANGEL
    I need to establish a few ground rules before we get to our destination. At least she’s a captive audience in my truck. It’s summer, there’s a drought, and we’re driving through acres of brown plain rimmed by mountains. It’s not like the close up landscape’s gonna hold her attention.
    “When we get to the trough, you follow the rules.”
    Rose has got me hotter than hell, but she’s more rush in than hold back . That’s great for sex—as long as it’s with me—but not so safe around cattle. Those beasts are gonna outweigh her. When she looks at me, all sweet innocence, I add, “I mean it, Rose. No games.”
    I wait for her nod, because I need the buy in.
    “Sure.” Her hand darts out and flicks the radio on. She’s not one for silence, either. She used to blast pop music out of her room the summer she lived with us, and I’d hear her dancing around, belting out the lyrics. Her voice is good, and I used to think she might make a career out of singing. Used to think lots of things.
    I cover her fingers with mine. “Give me the words.”
    “I can follow the rules.” When she spots the grin tugging my mouth, she slaps my fingers away with her free hand. “I can.”
    I let her,