Page 20 of Danger

I edge past a stall, press myself against a timber beam, and peek around the corner?—

And that’s when I see it.

Danger is leaning against a support beam, one hand gripping the wood above him, the other buried in her hair as she's on her knees in front of him.

I know I should pretend I didn't just wander straight into the adult section of the ranch.

But I don't move.

I don’t even breathe.

His shirt’s pushed up just enough to reveal the kind of mouthwatering abs that make you want to lick whiskey off them—deep, carved lines that contract with each ragged exhale. Has he always had abs like that?

His jaw is sharp, tilted back, throat exposed like he’s inviting some sexy vampire to come take a bite. But it’s not his neck that’s getting attention.

The dark-haired woman's knees are wedged between his boots, sucking his cock like she’s enjoying it much more than he is. The sounds—low moans, breathy and desperate—are all hers. Every flick of her head, every time she chokes, it’s amplified in this barn. Not to mention the proximity, the fact that I am steps away.

My first instinct is to turn and run. Abandon the chickens and their eggs.

But some sick curiosity has me in a choke hold. I’m frozen. Watching my ex’s older brother.Observing. Like some sick Peeping Tom.

He doesn’t even look at her. Almost looks anywhere but at her, eyes half-shadowed under the brim of his hat. Like he’s completely detached. Like this isroutine. And maybe it is. But for me? Every detail is burning into my brain—the way his abs flex when he shifts ever so slightly, the way his face looks even more gorgeous each time he tilts it.

I shouldn’t be thinking this. I shouldn’t be watching this.

The woman is like a machine—efficient, relentless, trying way too hard. She moans around him again.

But it’s not her I'm paying much attention to. It’s him I can’t take my eyes off of.

And apparently he feels it because his gaze cuts through the dim light. They land on me. His pupils are blown so wide his eyes are nearly black.

The barn goes quiet as panic climbs my throat at the thought of him seeing me here.

That he’ll treat me like some dumb kid again.

But there’s no shame in his expression. No surprise. Just a quiet, steady look that makes it clear he knows I’m here.

The woman keeps moving, unaware.

My pulse hammers so loud I’m sure even he can hear it.

His mouth curves, slow as sin, and utterly merciless. Like he enjoys this—me, frozen, mortified, and unable to tear my eyes away.

But he’s beautiful—not that I'd ever say it out loud—in a painfully dark and perfect kind of way, like something you’d see at the edge of a wildfire, the last thing before the world burns down.

He doesn’t flinch, just licks his lips.

He stillknowsI’m here. And he hasn’t stopped her. Doesn’t push her away. Just tilts his head back like he wants me to keep watching.

And fuck me, why does it make my stomach flutter?

My pulse is still rapid, embarrassingly loud in my ears.

The woman’s pace changes—slower now, dragging it out. Moving her head up and down in a way that has me wondering just how large he is. Danger’s grip on her hair tightens, just a little, and his mouth forms a word. Maybe her name. I can’t tell.

I hate how I’m still here watching. It’s almost like a dream where your brain is panicking, screaming even, but your body can’t move.

Danger’s head rolls back and he lets out a noise—half growl, half gasp—and then it happens. He doesn’t even give her a warning, but I can tell by the look on his face. And Lord help me,because the way he looks when he comes is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.