Two long, terrible, painful days where Del had been so aroused and frustrated that he’d snapped at everyone he came into contact with, including the maternal Mrs. Yates, who didn’t deserve his surliness. But he couldn’t help it, and though he wanted—needed—the relief of a warm body, the thought of utilizing the wares found at the Ruby Saloon felt gut-wrenchingly wrong.Fucking freckles.Her face when she’d pulled back from their kiss, the glazed look in her dilated blue eyes… That image had haunted him for two days. He’d close his eyes with his head on the pillow and be instantly reminded that this was her room. She had slept in this bed, beneath this coverlet, and Lord only knew what she’d done here.He wondered about her when he lay in his bed at night. He wondered if she’d rolled to her stomach, her thighs pressed tightly together. Maybe her hands would have snaked up the mattress to grip the brass rails of the headboard. The cool metal would have heated, slicked, beneath her palms as she twisted and writhed.
