Tears well up in my eyes at the hitch in his voice. Cash is all man. Big, strong, stoic, and masculine, and yet, there’s a sensitive side to him beneath all the tough cowboy exterior. A sensitive side thinking about love.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I care about you all, more than I ever could have imagined.”
“Would you be willing to try?” he asks, bringing both his hands to cup my face. “I needed to ask you this before things go further with us. I don’t want you to feel that I’ve misled you.”
So I was right.
I guess it’s time to match Cash’s honesty. “I overheard you talking with your brothers. I already knew how you felt.”
It takes a few seconds for him to register that I knew what they’d talked about, and I carried on kissing him anyway.
I knew, and I let him lick me between my legs.
I knew, and I didn’t get mad or tell him he was an asshole.
Cash’s eyes light up with hope. “I know Scott can be difficult. I know he seems like a bad person sometimes, but he’s not. He’s just the one that was most hurt by our past. I hate that he carries around his wounds like armor, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I know he likes you…if he didn’t, he would have resisted a lot of things that have happened. He’s just scared.”
“I know that.”
“So you’re not upset by the way he is?”
His eyes search mine, his hands still cupping my cheeks as though he’s holding something precious. “I understand.” I shrug and raise my eyebrows. “He needs more time to let himself go and trust. That’s not a bad thing. It’s for his own protection.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t need to protect himself from you.”
Cash leans in to kiss me softly on the lips. “I knew, as soon as I saw you at the auction, that you were the one. It’s like my body recognized you. I thought I was stupid. I went home that night and told myself that I’m an idiot. I didn’t believe it would be possible for you to forgive us or want us. I thought that I was delusional.”
“I didn’t think I could forgive you,” I say. “Even though you didn’t do anything malicious to me. Losing my home hurt as bad as losing my parents. It was the only thing I had left of them. But you’re kind of hard to resist.”
Cash withdraws his hands from my face and rubs his own. “I’m so sorry.”
“The sale brought me here, Cash,” I say softly. “It brought me to you.”
“Hurting you…it’s not what I ever want to do.”
“I know,” I say, and I really do. This man would do anything to protect me. It’s there in the fierceness in his eyes and the gentle care in his hands. The warmth of him doesn’t just touch my skin, it slides deep inside me to a place that’s never been touched before. But his anxiousness about what happened makes me wary. “This isn’t about making up for what happened, is it? If it is…if it’s because you feel guilty.”
“NO,” he says with absolute certainty, clear in his tone. “The job offer was. And Little Lady, I suppose. But not this. This is all me.” Taking my hand, he places it over his heart. “I feel you here,” he says. “Do you feel me here?” His big palm covers the space between my breasts where my body keeps beat with his.
“Yes.”
“And do you…could you feel my brothers here too?”
“I think so…maybe…”
“Maybe’s good enough,” Cash says. “Maybe is a start. We can try, but how you feel…that will determine everything.”
“We can try, but what if it doesn’t work out? What will that mean for us?”
“You’re mine,” Cash says, pulling me close, so our bodies are aligned from our chests to our feet. “I’m not going to let you go.”
Mine.
That word is so possessive. I shouldn’t like it, but I do, because if I am Cash’s, then Cash is mine too.
And the other Bradford brothers? Maybe they’ll be my harem of boys. Just the thought has me pressing my legs together.
“Can I touch you now?” I ask, my hand aching to wrap around his hot, hard length. Cash grips my hand, moving it to grip him through the fabric, then pushing it under the waistband until I get my first direct, skin-to-skin touch of his cock.
It’s like velvet heat against my palm. I know my mouth forms a noiseless O shape with surprise. Cash grunts as he forces my fingers to grip him hard. Does he really like it like that? Doesn’t it hurt?
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Play with it.”
As I stroke it, his eyes roll and then shut, but I keep my gaze on his face. Somehow, watching all his reactions to my movements just makes the whole thing sexier.