Tempt Our Fate (Sutten Mountain, #2)(29)
He holds the phone in front of me, angling it so both of us can see the screen. He focuses on the dirty picture of me for a few seconds before closing out of it and going to my home screen. The moment he clicks on my text messages, the lust-filled bubble pops, and I’m left with anger.
“You’re crossing so many boundaries,” I lash out.
His eyes scan over all the text threads I have. “I don’t see you trying to stop me.”
I frown. Maybe he has a point. “You aren’t going to find who I sent the picture to.”
His breath tickles my cheeks when he looks back to me. “And why’s that? You deleted the conversation?”
“No.” I look at where our bodies touch. I should push him away, but even though fury courses through my veins at the way he’s unapologetically crossed so many lines, I can’t do it. I don’t want to. I’m too lost in the angry fog in his eyes. The way he clenches his jaw so hard that I’m worried he’ll chip the teeth his parents clearly spent thousands to perfect. “I took the picture for me.”
His head cocks to the side. It seems childish, but I want to reach out and tousle his gelled hair. To make him a little less perfect as revenge for violating my privacy. “Explain,” he growls.
Sighing, I finally get in my right mind and push at his chest. It’s only haphazardly. He lets me do it, though, only backing up as far as I pushed him—which wasn’t far to begin with.
“Yes. For me. Why can’t a woman take sexy pictures of herself and keep them just for herself? On days when I’m tired or I’m covered in flour and in a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, I like to look back at pictures like this and remember the times I felt beautiful and sexy.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple slowly moving along his throat. “No one else has this?”
I shake my head. Not that he deserves to know the information in the slightest.
“You’re always…” His words drift off. He decides against saying whatever he was going to say as he backs away a few steps, keeping my phone in his grip.
Awkward silence fills the room. He sets the phone down on a shelf before barreling out of the tack room. “Lead me to the beast you’re insisting I ride,” he clips before disappearing.
Now that I’m alone, I finally take my first deep breath in a while. I grab my phone, noticing that the screen is still illuminated. My entire body flushes when I see a brand-new text thread created, with only one text in it.
The picture we were just looking at. I don’t have to ask to know he just sent that picture to himself—and now I’ll spend the entire day wondering why.
18
CAMDEN
“You know horses can sense fear, right?”
I aim a cutting glare her way, one she doesn’t see from slightly in front of me. My fingers grip the reins for dear life as Pippa leads us up the mountain on horseback. I squeeze the horse’s haunches with my thighs, trying not to fly off as we climb the mountain.
“I’m not scared,” I state, well aware of the hesitant tone in my voice. I’m a man that’s all about control in all aspects of my life. There’s no one who can do things better than I can. So putting my life in the hands of a horse that could throw me off the side of a mountain isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
It’s not the horse I fear. It’s giving up control.
“We’re almost up to the last part, and then it’ll be smooth sailing, cowboy.” The word cowboy is said sarcastically, so sarcastic that she giggles to herself. I’m sure if she wasn’t right in front of me, I’d see a satisfied smirk on her face.
“I’ll give you a win for the art fair,” I yell, white-knuckling what Pippa told me is a “saddle horn” as the horse jumps over a log in its path. “But being in the middle of nowhere on a fucking horse is not making me fall in love with this town. In fact, it reminds me of all the things I don’t enjoy about small towns.”
Pippa and her midnight horse come to a stop at the beginning of a clearing, the ground underneath us finally flat once again.
“Give me ten more minutes, and you’ll see what I mean about the best view.”
My horse, whose name is Rebel, doesn’t give me ease about putting my life in his hands and leans down to munch on the grass below his hooves. I loosen the reins a fraction, giving him the space to have a snack. It allows my thighs a chance to rest after they just spent forever clutching the sides of him so I didn’t tumble down a mountain.
“You know, I’m second-guessing agreeing to your stupid little deal.”
“I told you I didn’t want to do it. I had to make you miserable if I was going to agree to it.”
All I do is grunt, pressing my heel into Rebel’s underbelly when Pippa guides her horse forward again. I’m definitely miserable for a multitude of reasons.
Giving up control.
Not working when I have a thousand things to do.
Wearing these stupid hand-me-down clothes that make me feel like I’m wearing a cheap-ass cowboy costume.
Watching Pippa’s strong thighs straddle the horse, knowing what she’s hiding underneath her jeans. The image of Pippa in nothing but that skimpy lingerie will forever be burned in my mind. I can’t get rid of it, no matter how hard I try. I’ve thought of countless different ways I could rip that lace from her body so every perfect bare inch of her skin would be on display. I’m not proud of imagining what her ass looked like in the lingerie. I’m sure it left little to the imagination, and I can’t deny how bad I wish I’d seen the view. There’s not a doubt in my mind that seeing the bare curve of her ass would be my undoing. I’d love to see that scrap of fabric settled between her ass cheeks as I put a perfect palm print on them.