When I got to him, I wrapped my arms around his middle, then squeezed him as tight as I possibly could, causing the air to whoosh out of him.
He tensed for all of three seconds before I saw him look down, and then slowly release his rigidness.
I was sure it was the multitude of bracelets—all shitty dollar store ones that a couple of little girls from church had given me for my last birthday that I still loved—that gave me away.
Otherwise he would’ve pushed me off just as easily as he’d done the other girls.
“You never came back,” I said, resting my head on Banks’ shoulder blade.
He squeezed my wrists, then turned, lifting his arm and wrapping it around me.
“I wanted to check out the bulls,” he said, his eyes glancing behind me for a few seconds before returning to look down into mine.
That was when I realized that all conversation around us just stopped.
I looked up, away from Banks’ powerful gaze, to see the women that I’d walked through to get to Banks staring, open-mouthed. The men were watching us just as curiously, but their gazes weren’t openly hostile like the women.
“What the fuck, man?” one of the closest ones said.
He was short, way shorter than me, and skinny to boot. I could probably bench press him. I picked up bigger bags of chicken feed than I was sure he weighed.
“What?” Banks asked, his hand curling around my hip.
Possessively.
I shivered openly, loving the way I felt in his arms, and surveyed the rest of them.
There were a lot.
Either this was a popular place to be, or one of the group was extremely popular—and I was guessing it was the latter more than the former. And that popular person happened to be the man who was holding me like I would run if he didn’t.
“I didn’t know you had a girl,” skinny man said.
Banks ran his hand up to cup me around the ribs, and I felt my nipples pebble.
His hands were so close, yet so far away.
“Yeah,” Banks said. “I do.”
He didn’t introduce them, and I knew that it wasn’t rudeness on his part.
It wasn’t that Banks didn’t want them to know who I was, he just didn’t really care.
“What’s your name, darlin’?” the bulky, steroid looking man asked.
Banks squeezed my hip and said, “Her name is Candy. Candy, this is Jude. Jude’s a bullfighter.”
I looked at him more interestingly now.
“The ones that pull the bulls away from the riders when they go down?” I asked curiously. “The rodeo clowns?”
Jude nodded.
I smiled.
“Banks’ brother, Darby, does that, too,” I said. “In fact, just last week I watched Darby slap a bull on the ass and then run for his life.”
Jude grinned. “I’m not quite as crazy as that motherfucker.”
I snickered, and Banks rolled his eyes, but he did chuckle at his brother’s expense.
“Darby is that,” I agreed, then turned to look back at Banks. “I’m hungry. Are you almost done lookin’?”
He trailed his fingers down my side again, and during his attentions, he caused my shirt to ride up and the skin of my hip to become exposed.
The moment his fingers encountered my flesh, he froze.
I did, too.
But only because he looked like he was scared and hopeful all at once.
I sighed, knowing that I needed to have another talk with him later tonight.
One that explained to the man that I really wanted him to do naughty things to me and that I wasn’t a fragile flower. And I was no longer the scared teen that I once was. I’d done a whole lot of healing since the rape. I wasn’t traumatized any longer, either.
He tucked my shirt back down into place, and I knew that the talk really would have to be tonight.
I didn’t want him to freak out every time he touched me.
“I’m done now,” he said, his eyes shifting to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “What would you like? There’s barbeque and Chinese in town that I hear is good.”
I could practically hear the curious ears of the people around me.
I had a feeling that if we decided to have barbeque or Chinese, then there would be a whole lot of buckle bunnies and awe-inspired bull riders accompanying us.
I nodded once and smiled at the men. “Nice to meet you all.”
Banks guided me toward the path that would lead us to the campers again, and I snickered.
“I maybe should’ve said ‘nice to meet you, Jude’ seeing as he was the only one you introduced me to,” I told him through my laughter.
Banks snorted.
“I don’t really know any of them,” he admitted. “I know Jude because he saved my ass one time last year. The rest I just know are around. I don’t really socialize.”
I had a feeling.
“Okay,” I said. “But, just sayin’, there’s no way in hell I’m going to either Chinese or barbeque.”