My brand new cowboy short story is out! Read on for sexy alpha cowboy goodness…
When a freak snowstorm strands Lacey at a crowded Oklahoma rest stop, she thinks things can’t possibly get worse. Until she bumps into Trace Allen. Bull rider, ex-boyfriend, and all-around bad boy, Trace plucks her off her feet and invites her into his warm travel trailer.
But Lacey has her misgivings. Trace is every bit as strong and virile as the bulls he rides–and just as volatile. But when she finds evidence that their bad breakup was a misunderstanding, she begins to question everything she thought she knew about him.
Could Trace’s temper and bad boy exterior hide a tender heart? And will Lacey end up stranded, or straddled by the hottest bad-boy cowboy the rodeo circuit has ever seen?
He approached her slowly, each boot heel hitting the floor precisely. She wiggled and bit her lower lip. The sight of that plump lip caught between her sharp white teeth sent him over the edge. He grabbed her around the waist and tumbled them onto the love seat.
She squeaked. Fell still. Then struggled like a catfish on a hook. With her arms trapped in the blanket, he had the advantage. He slid his arms around her burritoed body and brought his lips within inches of hers.
“Is it that asshole Wagner?”
She gave a quick shake of her head, but he could see she was lying. The pink flush on her high cheekbones told him so. Yes, he knew this little darlin’ better than she gave him credit for. The two-cup coffee pot sputtered to a finish, but he ignored it. She was hot enough right here in his arms, and didn’t need a warm beverage.
“Lacey. I know it’s Wagner. I’ve heard rumors.”
Her eyes sparked. “So what if it is?”
He stared at the smattering of freckles on her upturned nose, then dropped his gaze to her ripe lips. Mint-scented breath crossed his face. A dark pressure built in his groin, but it filled a good portion of his chest cavity too. I’ll be damned if Wagner wins her.
“The man is gay.”
“What?” Outrage flashed over her features. A damp tendril of hair fell away from her ear, revealing the pink outer shell that had driven him wild so many times.
He licked his lips. “Gay. I’ve heard—”
“Rumors,” she finished, squirming inside the blanket burrito. She fought hard for a second. Her knee came dangerously close to his man-parts, which
only brought another laugh from him.
She tried to knee him again, purposely this time. “He is not gay. They’re just rumors.”
“How do you know?” He eyed her, daring her to tell him that she’d slept with the arrogant asshole everyone on the rodeo circuit hated. What if she did say she’d been with Wagner? Would Trace let her go?
She dropped her gaze to his mouth. Chest rising and falling as if she’d run a marathon, she bit her lower lip.
Damn, could she get any more perfect?
No, he wouldn’t give her up. The travel trailer rocked on its axles as another blast of wind slammed it.
“I just know. Besides, the only way you could know he’s gay is if you’ve been on the receiving end of—”
“Oh, don’t even finish that thought, you little wildcat.” Swooping in, he stole a kiss. The initial crush of their lips made them both turn to statues. For several heartbeats, he drank in her scents, mind swirling out of control with the need to attack her mouth, throat, breasts, the
slippery folds between her thighs. Stake his claim.
His cock swelled to its full length.
Her lips parted on a gasp, and he plunged his tongue deep.
Just 99 l’il ole cents