Becoming His Cowgirl Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Flora Ferrari Advertisement1

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I know my dad left mom when I was little. Went out for milk and never came back. That’s her side of the story anyway.

But he did leave her the house and everything in it, so who knows what really went down.

But she’s had ages to get over it and find someone else.

My excuse?

Well. Most people would only have to look at me to understand the answer to that.

And if mom has an interest this weekend that doesn’t involve annoying me, I’m all for it.

Maybe I can get some proper sleep.

So, it’s with a half-smile that I nearly doze off once mom goes hunting for Ben. Leaving me to myself until a rapping at the door makes me jump from my almost nap.

I don’t think anything of sliding up off the bed and opening the door, expecting to see an elderly housekeeper.

But my heart is in my throat once my eyes settle on the muscular torso, and all my thoughts of being alone forever and forgetting about Mack evaporate when I realize it’s him who’s come to fix our window.

I feel my mouth hanging open, not even sure how to speak, let alone having anything to say.

Mack looks better than ever, if that’s even possible. And he’s changed and showered, too, by the looks.

The heady, woodsy scent of cologne is faint on him. But when I focus on it, it could actually just be how good the man smells all on his own.

Like a force of nature. Like the wind and the trees. Everything out here just feels and smells fresh.

But Mack is taking it to the next freaking level, standing out as the most amazing feature of our trip back to nature so far.

“Uhhh, you’ve got something that needs unsticking,” he says in his trademark deep tone, sending a shiver up my spine with his words.

The little smile that plays on his lips disappears as quickly as it comes, though, once he realizes what he’s just said.

Yeah, I’ve got something that needs unsticking. But it’s not the frickin’ window frame….

I stay mute but feel my open mouth moving as I try to find something to say, anything will do right now.

But I must look like a fish blowing bubbles.

“Can I come in and take a look?” Mack asks, looking behind me toward the window. But I can’t help feeling like he’s actually checking if we’re alone.

“Sure,” I squeak, feeling those bubbles I’ve been blowing finally burst. Getting replaced with that incredible feeling of excitement the man generates in me anytime I even think about him, let alone get within six feet of him.

I shift myself out of the way so he can come in but notice that his gaze has shifted from the window to my chest.

Anyone else staring at me like that would get a piece of my mind. But it’s the way he’s looking at me that makes me melt.

Looking at me like he not only likes what he sees, but that stupid grin he’s wearing gives me the impression of a man who not only knows what he wants but is only moments from actually getting it.

The shock of seeing him, or any man for that matter, actually looking at me like they’re interested is enough to make me feel faint.

And taking a step back, I feel my heel catch on the big old carpet rug.

Mack’s hand shoots out, gripping me by the waist and saving me for the second time today. He also hears just how strong the effect of his touch is on me.

I let out more of a moan than a gasp. And it’s not the sound a girl makes when she’s about to fall backward.

And once he pulls me closer to him, I can feel my already stiff nipples scratching against his rock-hard abs under his shirt.

“I’ve got you…,” he croons, letting himself hold me long after it’s clear I won’t fall.

Both our eyes locked on each other again.

It’s like being back in his truck all over again, only way better this time because my mom isn’t around.

But I am still falling.

Falling harder and faster for him by the second. Only now I’m more confused than ever because I think Mack actually might be interested in me in that way.

God only knows why or even how. I mean, he could have any girl he wants just by smiling at them.

“Did you really call me up here to look at your stuck window?” he quizzes me, grinning again and cocking his brow. Pulling me just a little bit closer until I can feel the whole front of his body a half inch from mine.

“My mom,” I stammer, and his expression shifts. “She’s always complaining about something. But she’s not here if you want to take a look,” I manage to get out.

Feeling the torrent between my legs starting all over again.


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