“Where’s my trailer?” I spin, putting my hands on my hips to square off with Bronco.

“It was a piece of shit, and it’s not going to be a hazard zone on the property.” His words are almost like a smack to the face, but I don’t flinch. In fact, I keep my face completely neutral. It’s my best talent really.

The one and only thing I’ve ever thought was really mine he called a hazard zone. It’s probably in some junkyard smashed to pieces. I guess that’s why he took so much of my stuff last night. That trailer is all I had. Sure, it was shitty and I didn’t love it, but it was mine. He doesn’t get that because it’s all too easy for him to buy what he wants.

“You don’t need it. You’re staying with me.” He steps closer, and my brain tells me to take a step back, but my boots keep me planted where I am.

“Cause I’m yours now?” I sing-song to annoy him.

“Damn straight.” It’s harder this time not to flinch, but I think I pull it off.

He’s right, though. I really have nowhere to go and not a penny to my name.

“Well, I better get to work then.” I step around him, and he calls after me.

“Sweet thing.”

“Don’t call me that at work,” I say over my shoulder as I head back the way I came. I don’t know why I think I can try and get away from him. The man is a bull, and I'm waving a red flag to piss him off and come charge me. A moment later, two hands grip my hips and spin me around to face him. “Damn, I didn’t even hear you move that time.”

“If I don’t want you to hear me coming, you won’t.” His fingers flex against my hips. The sensation goes straight between my thighs as I think about those same fingers inside of me hours ago. I bet he’s expecting something else rather than his fingers tonight.

Damn it all to hell because I want that too, but this is going to end up being one big mess. To him this is some fun because he’s used to the buckle bunnies. They know the drill, so it’s easy for him to have fun while he’s in town, but once he’s gone, there’s nothing left. Sometimes when the wranglers pass through again, they hit up the same girl, but most of the time, they grab someone new.

“Is there something you need? Because—”

“Something I need.” The words roll off his tongue and sound sexy as hell. “What did I say about asking men if they need something?” I roll my eyes because I don’t want Bronco to know how much I love the idea of him needing anything from me. Not want. Need. Two very different things, which he himself is making clear.

“I didn’t ask a man. I asked you.” He throws back his head, and a laugh booms from his chest. What the hell? Even his laugh is sexy, but I ignore it. “I’m supposed to give instructions to your men,” I remind him, trying to pull this away from sex.