Guest Laura Moore Asks What Do You Like to Drink With Your Cowboy?

How about a nice smooth Pinot Noir?

Come again, you ask? Who’d want a glass (or three) of wine with their red-blooded cowboy? I should be suggesting a satisfying cold draft beer or the smooth kick of a fiery whiskey. They slide down the gullet so well. But wine?

Okay, I admit it. I like making challenges for myself in my stories. Today I’m going to try and convince you that certain cowboys go really well with a full-bodied red that lingers on the tongue.

Take Reid Knowles for example. He’s the hero in Once Tasted, Book Two of my Silver Creek series. He’s a cowboy who’s a little different–but no less sexy and irresistible. Reid hails from Acacia, a small town in northern California. A blue-eyed lady-killer, Reid’s all about enjoying life to the fullest. When he’s not riding his cutting horse Sirrus and roping cattle, he’s either astride his Harley or nestled between the thighs of a warm and willing woman.

Unfortunately for Reid, Mia Bodell, the woman he’s secretly desired for many years is a far cry from willing. She and her uncle own the vineyard next to the Knowles’s sprawling guest ranch, and she’s a total wine geek. Reid has no problem with that, since the wine she and her uncle produce is excellent. It’s Mia’s attitude toward him that rankles. Ever since a colossally embarrassing episode in high school, she’s been holding a grudge against him. So when Mia’s uncle asks Reid to help manage the business side of the winery, she makes it clear that she’d rather be hog-tied than work with him.

It’ll be up to Reid to change Mia’s mind and show her that the taste of a fine cowboy is unsurpassed, especially when paired with an exceptional Pinot.


Here’s a sneak peek from Once Tasted…

Reid made to go around to her side of the truck, but Mia had already climbed down. They walked toward the front of the house, the chirping of crickets punctuating the silence between them. And though the evening was mild and the sky studded with stars, he felt the air crackle with the intensity of an approaching storm. He was too aware of her. Too conscious of the sway of her hips, the fascinating mystery of her body.

Just a few more seconds and he’d be safe from any crazy impulses.

Abruptly tired of the mini pep talks he kept conducting with himself, he bounded up the porch steps and grasped the screen-door handle. Yanking it open, he unlocked the door. Impatience riding him, he took a quick step back. His body slammed into hers.

A high-pitched “oh!” escaped her as she recoiled from the contact. Teetering, Mia windmilled her arms.

He grabbed her before she could tumble off the porch. The banging of the screen door behind them was nothing compared to the slam of his heart as she fell against him. Soft, full breasts pressed against his chest.

Lust annihilated thought. Common sense went up in flames under the searing heat of her body plastered against his.

He may have groaned and she may have gasped. The roaring in his ears was too loud for him to be certain, and any sounds were short-lived, as their mouths found each other and fused. They kissed in a desperate mash of lips, clicking teeth, and tangled tongues.

His hands closed around curves deliciously lush. His hunger spiked, desperate to uncover all she’d camouflaged for years under layers of shapeless clothing.

Her breasts were just right, amply filling his large hands. He fondled their exquisite softness with his palms, exulting when her nipples turned pebble hard. He plucked them with his fingers, massaged them with his palms, and caught her moan in his mouth as he kissed her feverishly.

God, he wanted her so badly. He raised his head, his lips hovering over hers. He needed to be sure.

“Mia?” His voice was rough with arousal. “Mm-hmm.”

“One more time. You broke up with Andrew, right?” “Mm-hmm.”

“And you’re not drunk?”

She opened heavy-lidded eyes. “No. Stupid maybe,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He let out a low laugh. “Me, too.”

Her arms were about his neck. She clung to him as if he were a lifeline. It was damned fine with him. He caught her around the waist, kissed her again, and the heat between them flared like an inferno.

“Up. Stairs. Bed. Room.” He managed between frenzied kisses.

A hazy few seconds later, his heart pounding as loudly as the thud of their sprinting feet on the stairs, they were in Mia’s bedroom. He stretched out his arm, feeling for a wall light switch.

She caught the movement and stopped him with an urgent “Don’t. Leave it dark.”

He let her have her way. There was a moon tonight, and its beam stole through the open window, casting the interior in a gray-blue light. It’d be enough. For now.

He moved, before he could think, before she could think, before either of them could wise up enough to put a stop to this insane need claiming them. He took her in his arms and kissed her, slanting his mouth across hers, sweeping his hands from her waist to her ribs to the sweet full globes of her breasts, learning her as they

crossed the room. With every step, he touched, tasted, and burned.

They reached her bed. He gave silent thanks. He didn’t have time for finesse, not the way the blood was pumping in his veins, and his cock was stiff pulsing.

Urgency fueling him, his hands now moved with a rough efficiency that would have ordinarily appalled him. At the moment he couldn’t give a damn. He felt like he’d go blind if he didn’t get her naked and him inside her.

There was one good thing about Mia’s clothes: They were blessedly easy to remove. A hook, a zip, and her skirt dropped in an obliging cascade. Her blouse was loose enough to bunch as he kissed her, dragging it up while his knuckles grazed satin skin. He released her soft lips long enough to pull the top over her head and past her thick halo of hair.

And then he had to gasp for air, suck in lungfuls of the stuff, as he caught his first glimpse of Mia in the moonlight.

Holy fuck. Even in a plain white bra and undies, she was gorgeous: generous curves and long, strong limbs, and hair—all that glorious crazy corkscrew hair that fell down her back. It was as wild and lush as the rest of her. He spared a thought for all those too skinny women with sparrow bones and knew he was probably grin- ning like a fool, a happy fool. He only hoped his tongue wasn’t hanging out like a dog anticipating a yummy treat.

“Take ’em off, Mia.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not sure—”

Damn. She was already thinking too much, revving up for an argument.

“I want to watch. Do it, Mia.” Maybe it was the rasping need in his voice; maybe it was the sight of his hands moving to his shirt buttons, his fingers working quickly; maybe, just maybe, she was as crazily aroused as he. But for once in their rocky relationship, she actually did as he asked.

And, man, did he appreciate it.

She wasn’t practiced. She didn’t strike a pose that mimicked some porn starlet’s or that showed him she was up on the top-ten moves money-back-guaranteed to drive a man wild. Good thing, too. His control was hanging by a thread as fine as a spider’s web.

She reached up and brought her hands to the middle of her back so her elbows stuck out at sharp angles. She fumbled with the bra’s catch. Her breasts jiggled. And, truly, that was all the erotic come-on he needed.

The bra slid off. Okay, he hadn’t expected perfection. But there it was: generously rounded globes, puckered aureoles, and tight, tempting nipples begging for his touch. He swallowed and yanked the shirt off his shoulders.

He caught her looking. Her gaze roamed over his chest, down his heaving ribs, to his navel, then followed the narrow line of hair that led past his belt buckle. Then she saw the part of him that was begging, too. Big time.

Her eyes locked on the bulge near his fly and her mouth formed a silent “oh.”

“Panties,” he growled the command. Fuck finesse, fuck politesse.

It did the trick. Her fingers moved to the elastic waist- band. While he still had a few functioning brain cells, he dug his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, flipped it open, and tossed two foil packets onto the bed.

He returned his wallet and reached for his belt buckle just as Mia’s sweet triangle of curls was revealed. And then it did feel as if he’d gone a little blind, as a blast of lust seared his retinas.

He shucked off his boots and socks, jeans, and knit boxers in a blur of motion. There was no grace involved but probably a fair amount of comedy. He was too aroused for laughter, though.

As for Mia, she was staring at his erection as if her eyes were going to pop out. He hoped that was a good sign. Because he was desperate to be inside her, the instinct as all-powerful as the one driving a stallion to claim and mount a mare.

He fought the urge to tackle her, but he couldn’t stop himself from crowding her until she sank down on the mattress as if her knees had turned to water. He fol- lowed, his body bowing over her.

“Mia.” He nudged her legs apart.

She let him.

Was that enough? No, damn it, it wasn’t. He had to make sure. He could still stop, turn around, dress, and walk out of here. His cock wouldn’t shatter in a million pieces. “You want this to happen between us?”

He saw the column of her throat work as she gulped. “Yes.”

Thank God.


If you’re interested in reading more of Once Tasted:

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Happy Reading!


About Randi Alexander

Writer of Erotic Romances - "Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied"
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14 Responses to Guest Laura Moore Asks What Do You Like to Drink With Your Cowboy?

  1. Clare O'Beara says:

    That gentleman look as though he’d go very well with a glass of full-bodied red….

  2. malanouette says:

    I can’t wait to read this one. Love your books, Laura..

  3. Good lord, that was SMOKIN’ hot, Laura! Um…what was the question Oh, wine…sure. How about an old-vine zin, dark and delicious, hints of smoke and yes, leather.

  4. Love your cover! Two fingers of a good bourbon would be perfect with your cowboy

  5. gailchianese says:

    Holy moly! I need to finish this now or perhaps drink something extremely cold. Do a few deep breathing exercises to return my heart to it’s natural rhythm.

  6. PJ Sharon says:

    Okay, Laura…now I’m hot and bothered. Thanks a lot! No…really…thanks…a LOT…

  7. gailingis says:

    Laura, you have got to be kidding. Who is thinking what to drink, fanning oneself, and I am in process taking out those sexy scenes that I so carefully wrote. Good for you, well-done and all that. You still want that drink? Straight scotch, no ice–this one’s not for the meek.

  8. A good white wine or a Margarita. My cowboy drinks what suits him at the time. This cowboy is easy on the eyes so a good white would go with him!!!LOL

  9. Sexxxxxyyyyy Sexy cover!
    Hmmmm.. Jack Daniels and Coke would be just fine 😉

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