This very moment in the Buckshot Saloon, Rowan Hemsworth was as lusted after as her brother was every day.
A sharp buzzer sounded over the cheers and hollers, signaling Rowan’s time had ended.
The bull’s erratic gyrations slowed, coming to a standstill a few seconds later.
“Now that was very impressive,” the Buckshot’s MC congratulated into a microphone as he approached Rowan, who was now sliding off the bull to the mat. “Am I allowed to say it’s your American blood?”
Rowan laughed and Aslin couldn’t help but notice his cock grew thicker at the relaxed sound. She had a horny laugh—throaty and sensual. “Not if you want to keep standing.”
The MC chuckled, threaded his fingers through hers and lifted her arm above her head. “Give the little lady a hand, everyone. Six and a half minutes.”
The crowd burst out with raucous cheers, clapping and more than one wolf-whistle. Rowan grinned, dropped into a little curtsey and began walking toward where Aslin sat at their table.
As predicted, she was stopped twice before she made it. Both times her would-be suitors indicated in the direction of the bar with their hands, their gaze devouring her with open interest. Both times she flashed her dimple at them and shook her head, her cheeks high with colour.
Both times, the desire to stand up and cross to her while the men chatted her up shot through Aslin. He kept his arse in his seat however. For two reasons. One, he had no claim on her and if she wanted to have a drink with a man she met here tonight she could, as much as he didn’t like the idea at all. And two, she didn’t like to be treated like she needed to be looked after. He could tell already. Not just because she was one of only three people in the world who’d managed to put him on his arse, but by the way she held herself, the way she’d challenged him when they first met. And by her martial art skill.
You didn’t take the world Taekwondo championship multiple times over if you needed protection.
Which was interesting, because by nature he was drawn to people who needed to be protected, and yet Rowan turned him on more than any woman he’d ever met. What did that say?
“I beat you.”
He smiled at Rowan’s smug gloat as she sank into the seat opposite him. Her breasts were still heaving, her voice still a little breathless. It was a deliciously arousing sight and his cock responded. At this rate, he’d need to unzip his jeans soon for fear of breaking his dick. And then he’d be unable to stand up without poking himself in the eye.
She grinned, dimple creasing her smooth cheek. “One whole minute longer. And I got two drink offers. How many did you get?”
He chuckled, unable to help himself. Christ, her accent was sexy. “One. While you were on the bull.”
An unreadable expression fell over Rowan’s face at his proclamation. “Really?”
He nodded again, holding up his half-consumed soda water. “From the waitress. She asked if I wanted a refill.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. “So, your humour is just as lame as your fighting technique, I see.”
“It would seem so.”
She picked up her own drink—a scotch, straight up—and raised it to her lips. “Do you come here often?”
“Is that a pick-up line?”
“Answer the question, soldier.”
“Is that an order?”
“It is. I’ve beaten you twice in a twenty-four-hour period. Victor’s privilege.”
“I see.” He lifted his own glass to his mouth and took a drink, enjoying the icy liquid flowing over his tongue and down his throat. He was hot. Hot and aroused. “In that case, no. Never been here before.”
She contemplated his answer, her gaze on his face just as confident as her body language. Her posture was beautiful, her spine straight, her shoulders the same, nothing in her position telling him she was unnerved by their banter. And yet, her breasts still rose and fell with alacrity. He knew she wasn’t breathless from her rodeo ride—her level of fitness was obvious to him from the second she put him on his back at the film site. Which meant she was affected by him. It would be very enjoyable to see her lose control completely.
To be the one responsible for such release.
“So, out of the blue, you brought an American to an American bar you’ve never been to before. What if it sucked?”
“Then I would have taken you somewhere else.”
The corners of her lips curled. “Where?”
“The local paintball arena.”
She burst out laughing. “You really know how to show a girl a good time, Aslin Rhodes.”
He took another drink of his soda water, doing his damndest to ignore the urgent pressure in his cock. “Thank you.”