Ruth visibly flinches and realization dawns on me. “Son of a bitch,” I curse under my breath. My blood boils when I think of anyone laying a hand on Shannon. No wonder she’s so distrusting.

“Look, Stone, you can’t tell her I told you,” Ruth says, licking her lips nervously.

I look down at her then glance around the room at the customers who sit at various tables.

“Stone,” Ruth repeats.

“I won’t say a word,” I promise. “But you’re going to tell me everything.”

Friendship be damned.

I sag against the bar and run a hand through my tangled curls. It’s almost closing time and, as usual, I’m exhausted. Smiling weakly at the last couple as they exit, the sound of laughter draws my attention to the other side of the room.

I watch as Stone flicks a stray piece of popcorn at Ruth, feeling my gut twist as the young girl brushes her hair away from her face, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth as she laughs. Well, why shouldn’t he like her? She’s gorgeous. I hate being jealous of my friend, but even more than that, I hate the reason behind my jealousy. I have to face the facts: I’m attracted to Stone.

“Shannon,” he calls out, waving me over.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and walk over to them, taking a seat at one of the tables.

“Stone was just telling me about his time in the Army,” Ruth says, gazing up at him adoringly.

I feel like throwing up. “How nice,” I reply with a weak smile. “It’s getting late, though. Aren’t you tired?”

“Not at all.” Ruth beams. “We were just talking about driving into town to find a club.”

I stare at Stone, who raises a questioning eyebrow at me as one side of his lips cock up into a smirk. Jackass. I ignore the quiver of longing that shoots into my center and makes my clit pulse with desire. “Oh,” I say, trying to sound disinterested. “It’s been a while since I was in town; it is an hour’s drive away, after all.”

“You should come with us,” Stone invites, that smirk blossoming into a grin.

“No,” I respond, shaking my head. “I have too much work to do. You guys go ahead.” I can’t go back to town. I swore when I left there the first time that I’d never go back. Not after everything that happened . . .

“Oh, come on, Shan,” Ruth pleads, grabbing my hand across the table. “You never do anything fun.”

I can’t help but laugh at Ruth’s pretty pout. “Okay, okay,” I say, my eyes crinkling as I smile, even though I feel dead inside. “I’ll catch up with you guys shortly.”

“Great!” Ruth squeals, jumping up and down as she claps her hands excitedly.

Stone narrows his eyes at me. “You sure you’re okay?” Shit. Does he notice how pale I am? Maybe I can pretend to be sick and just go home.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I’ll just close up the bar and get changed. I’ll meet you guys back here in an hour.”

“Come on,” Ruth says impatiently, tugging on Stone’s arm as she leads him out of the bar.

“I’ll catch up with you soon,” he promises, watching as Ruth leaves. I keep my eyes trained on him as he walks over to the door and locks it closed behind her before turning back to face me. Why is he still here? My breath is audible in the quiet room, as are his slow, methodical steps. My pulse races as every click of his boots on the hard wood floor sends a jolt of awareness straight to my center. He stops directly in front of me and I tilt my head up to gaze into his dark eyes that are fixated on my suddenly dry mouth. My tongue darts out to lick my lips and I hear something akin to a groan escape his throat. “What are you doing?” I ask in a strangled whisper. He’s so close I can feel the heat from his skin against my chest.

“Do you have any idea what you fucking do to me?” he asks in a low voice, his fingertip tracing a slow path down my arm. I shiver involuntarily and I’m unable to tear my gaze away from his.

“No,” I whisper, the word sticking in my throat as his finger trails lazily to the top of my t-shirt, dipping lightly between my small breasts. Stone grabs my hand and brings it down to the front of his jeans, pressing it against himself. “I’ve been like this since I first walked in and saw your ass sticking up in the air, waiting for me,” he growls. Heat pools between my thighs and my eyes almost roll back in my head as I press my hand firmly against his hard cock. He feels much too large for one hand, and I slowly begin to stroke him through his jeans. Stone lets out a loud groan and throws his head back as I increase the pace. I know anyone could walk past the bar at any time, and that knowledge both excites and terrifies me. My hand slips into the space at the top of his jeans, feeling desperately for the bare skin beneath, but a growl rips from his chest as he forcibly grabs my hand and pulls it away. His other hand fists in my hair and drags my head back as his mouth covers mine. I part my lips in surprise and his tongue darts inside, wrestling with my own. I feel hot . . . so fucking hot. We’re both wearing too many clothes.

As though reading my mind, Stone’s hands slip beneath my ass and he lifts me effortlessly. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me a short distance across the room, his lips never leaving mine until he places my feet back on the ground. He rips his mouth away and I dreamily open my eyes to look at him, quickly burning under his heated gaze.

“Stone,” I whimper, clutching at his shirt with my small fists.

“Shannon,” he says hotly. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I know,” I whisper, my eyes closing as I feel his hands on the front of my jeans. A second later they’re shoved down my hips along with my underwear, and he lifts my feet one by one as I step out of them and kick off my shoes. My shirt and bra goes next, and he groans as he stares at me. “Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful it hurts to look at you,” he growls as his mouth covers one nipple and sucks. Hard. I yelp at the sudden spike of pain, but it’s quickly forgotten as his tongue laves wet circles against my heated flesh. My head tilts back as he gives the other breast the same attention, cupping it in his large hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Stone,” I murmur, threading my fingers through his dark hair. He releases my nipple with a pop and picks me up, laying me back against the old mechanical bull, my legs splayed wide apart, spreading me open to his gaze. The steel sends a cold shock down my spine and I cry out, arching my back, but he presses a hand against my stomach, forcing me back down.

“Are you ready?” he asks in a low voice. I lift my head to watch him lower his face between my legs . . .

Then he stops. He fucking stops.

Every nerve ending in my body is screaming, and I’m silently begging him to snake his tongue around my clit and suck it. But he fucking stops. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling my scent before he stands up and gently helps me to my feet. I stand there staring at him, covering my breasts and my pussy with my hands, embarrassed. “Stone?” I squeak, wishing he’d say something. Anything. He lifts his eyes to me, and I can swear that for a brief second I see a flash of regret cross his pinched features. He leans down and scoops my clothes up from the floor, tossing them at me. They fall uselessly to the floor as I continue to cover my nudity, my skin flushed red in humiliation.

“Get dressed,” he says gruffly, turning his back on me as though he’s disgusted by what he sees. My face flaming, I stare at his back, growing angrier by the second. Who the fuck does he think he is? “Stone,” I snarl. He turns, and I wipe the questioning look off his face with a firm slap. A look I can’t quite describe flashes across his face, then he turns on his heel and stalks over to the front door of the bar. It slams shut behind him and I race over, throwing the lock before sinking down to the ground, resting my back against the door and my head in my hands.