Of course, she can. She’s strong. That she can sit on a mechanical bull better than the average person doesn’t surprise me one bit. I’ve watched her work out, watched that ass clench in her tights. I’ve watched sweat trickle down between her tits, her lips parted as she pants from a tough session.
I chance a glance over my shoulder because I’m a seriously weak son of a bitch where Summer Hamilton is concerned. Sure enough, she’s looking damn fine up there. Arm up, chin down, shoulders back.
But it’s not good for business when someone lasts too long, and I turn away just as the operator jerks her in the other direction, forcing her to lose her seat.
“She’s not my girl.” I hear the cheers for her, knowing that she probably finally took her tumble.
I hope she’s okay.
Theo rolls his eyes, but as he takes in the scene behind me, they go wide.
“You’re right,” Cindy agrees with a nod. “It looks like she might be Emmett’s.”
This time, I stand straight up, catching sight of Summer as she pulls Emmett’s cowboy hat off and plunks it on her head as they head over to the bar across the room.
And that’s it.
I’m striding across the bar, getting to her as fast as I can. It feels like it takes forever, but it has to have been under eight seconds.
Summer is tucking a shot into her cleavage when I get to her and knock that fucking hat right off her head.
“What the—” She stops talking when she catches sight of me. “What’s wrong?” She looks genuinely confused. Like she truly has no goddamn idea how crazy she drives me.
How badly I want her.
“Hey, man.” Emmett slithers up like the fucking snake he is. “You know the rules.”
“Yeah, I do. But she doesn’t. Keep your fucking hat to yourself.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Summer removes the shot glass from her cleavage and holds that hand up to stop us. “What rules?”
“Don’t worry about it, doll. Let’s do the body shot.” Emmett tries to redirect the conversation, edging his body in front of mine to block me out.
But my limbs are longer, and I reach around him and steal the shot right out of Summer’s hand. “Not a fucking chance.”
Emmett turns to glare at me, all that polite, sunny, farm boy bullshit persona melting right off him. “Beat it, Eaton.”
“Did you not hear me, Bush? I said not a fucking chance. I know your games. Play them somewhere else. Breathe on this girl the wrong way, and I’ll end you right here rather than just kicking your ass in the ring.”
His watery blue eyes narrow as he glares at me, jaw popping, shoulders drawn tight. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that he wants to hit me right now. I wish he would, so I could stomp on his stupid, shiny, predatory face.
It’s Summer who steps up now, that sexy smirk plastered on her full lips as she raises a hand to point at me. I know she’s trying to diffuse the situation, to keep me out of trouble, which is why I’m so surprised when she says, “Okay. Then you’re doing the shot.”
She doesn’t drop my gaze as she steps in front of Emmett. He’s behind her and the packed bar is beside us, but all I see is her.
Eyes twinkling, cheeks pink with exertion, dark hair loose and wild around her shoulders.
Summer puffs out her chest in my direction and my eyes drop to the swells of her breasts, the line of cleavage, and the vertical scar that traces up the center. “Put it in.”
I groan. She nibbles on her lip, aware of what she’s just said. So, I step closer, holding myself back from running my hands all over her, and lift the slender glass. Slowly, I press it between her soft breasts, trailing the pad of my ring finger over the rounded top of her flesh before tracing the line that goes up her entire chest. The scar that she doesn’t bother covering up because she’s so fucking strong. So brave.
I touch the raised skin, not caring how personal it feels to be doing this in public. Goosebumps erupt over her chest, and even over the blaring music, I can hear her quiet gasp. I feel the way her breath slides across my skin. It’s fucking distracting. It has my cock swelling in my jeans.
Her hand darts out, and she holds up a can of whipping cream with a challenging glint in her eye. We’ve been dancing around each other awkwardly since that day at the fence. We’ve barely talked, but now she’s looking at me like she wants to do an awful lot more than talk.
“In the mood for some dairy products, Rhett?” She shakes the can and before I can stop her, she sprays a line of it from the shot glass wedged between her tits right over the length of the scar.
It’s fucking pornographic. Or maybe it’s just been a while for me. Either way, I want to get her the hell out of here so I can bend her over and spank her perfect ass for putting Emmett’s hat on. Put her on her knees and shove my cock between those lips that have been taunting me for weeks now. Watch her eyes widen when I hit the back of her throat.