Take Me, Cowboy by Maisey Yates

No. Her brain was screaming again, but this time she knew for sure what it was saying. It was all denial. She didn’t want him to look at her as if he was searching for something, didn’t want him to touch her as if it was only the beginning of something more. Didn’t want him to see her. To see how scared she was. To see how unnerved and affected she was. To see how very, very not brave she was beneath the shield she held up to keep the world out.
    He already knows it’s a shield. And you’re already screwed ten ways, because you can’t hide from him and you never could.
    He’d let her believe she could. And now he’d changed his mind. For some reason it was all over now. Well, she knew why. It had started with a dress and high heels and ended with an orgasm in her shop. He was right. It had changed things.
    And she had a terrible, horrible feeling more was going to change before they could go back to normal.
    If they ever could.
    â€œWell,” she said, hearing her voice falter. Pretending she didn’t. “I don’t think anything needs to change.”
    â€œEnough,” he said, his tone fierce.
    Then, before she knew what was happening, he’d claimed her lips again in a kiss that ground every other kiss that had come before it into dust, before letting them blow away on the wind.
    This was angry. Intense. Hot and hard. And it was happening in her house, in spite of the fact that she was holding a blanket and Oklahoma! was on mute in the background. It was her safe space, with her safe friend, and it was being wholly, utterly invaded.
    By him.
    It was confronting and uncomfortable and scary as hell. So she responded the only way she could. She got mad, too.
    She grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, clinging to him tightly as she kissed him back. As she forced her tongue between his lips, claiming him before he could stake his claim on her.
    She shifted, scraping her teeth lightly over his bottom lip before biting down. Hard.
    He growled, wrapping his arms around her waist. She never felt small. Ever. She was a tall girl with a broad frame, but she was engulfed by Chase right now. His scent, his strength. He was all hard muscle against her, his heart thundering beneath her hands, which were pinned between their bodies.
    She didn’t know what was happening, except that right now, kissing him might be safer than trying to talk to him.
    It certainly felt better.
    It let her be angry. Let her push back without saying anything. And more than that...he was an amazing kisser. He had taken her from zero to almost-there with one touch of his lips against hers.
    He slid his hand down her back, cupping her butt and bringing her up even harder against him so she could feel him. All of him. And just how aroused he was.
    He wanted her. Chase wanted her. Yes, he was pissed. Yes, he was...trying to prove a point with his tongue or whatever. But he couldn’t fake a hard-on like that.
    She was angry, but it was fading. Being blotted out by the arousal that was crackling in her veins like fireworks.
    Suddenly, she found herself being lifted off the ground, before she was set down on the couch, Chase coming down over her, his expression hard, his eyes sharp as he looked down at her.
    He pressed his hand over her stomach, pushing the hem of her shirt upward.
    She should stop him. She didn’t.
    She watched as his strong, masculine hand pushed her shirt out of the way, revealing a wedge of skin. The contrast alone was enough to drive her crazy. Man, woman. Innocuous porcupine pajamas and sex.
    Above all else, above anything else, there was Chase. Everything he made her feel. All of the things she had spent years trying not to feel. Years running from.
    She couldn’t run. Not now. Not only did she lack the strength, she lacked the desire. Because more than safety, more than sanity, she wanted him. Wanted him naked, over her, under her, in her.
    He gripped the hem of her top and