HOW TO ROPE A MCCOY IS LIVE !
An excerpt for you – hope you like it.
Cato watched Savannah and Patrick dancing, her head lying on his shoulder. How happy they looked. Swaying next to them were Beau and Harley. The big Cajun seemed so protective of his petite wife even though Cato knew Harley’s reputation as a bomb tech was legendary. Both couples had traveled over from Louisiana together. Not too far away, Avery’s friend Tricia was dancing with another man who resembled the McCoys, but he wasn’t the handsome devil she’d spied earlier. Hmmmm, now where could he be? Her eyes perused the crowd, looking for him. Thinking about how broad his shoulders were and how she’d love to knead the hard muscles, Cato couldn’t be still. She moved a little bit to the beat of the music, aware of the vibrations from the drums and the bass guitar. Helping out was great, but she longed to mix and mingle. Darn, it was hot. She twisted her hair into a knot and secured it with a piece of blue ribbon she’d placed in the pocket of the apron tied around her waist, protecting the pristine gown from splashes of red punch.
Behind her, Heath asked, “Can I have something to drink, ma’am?”
Oblivious, Cato took a sip of the punch, smiling when she saw Patrick dip Savannah and then kiss her. She could still remember how Savannah had suffered when she’d thought Patrick had been killed in the war. His homecoming had truly been a miracle.
Hot and tired, Heath tried to get the woman’s attention again. He was beginning to lose his cool. “Hey! What does someone have to do to get a drink in this place?”
Happily Cato patted her foot, wishing someone would relieve her of punch patrol so she could kick up her heels.
A sudden jerk on her arm startled her and she swung abruptly around, the contents of her punch cup flying through the air and all over the face, jacket and shirt of the very cowboy she’d been mooning over. Kabluey!
“Oops. Oh, no!”
“It’s you!” Heath bellowed as red liquid dripped off his hat, down his chin and onto his white shirt. “Are you deaf?”
Cato didn’t need auditory skills to hear him that time. She was reading him loud and clear. An angrier visage she had never seen.
“Me, deaf? Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” she answered defensively. This relationship wasn’t exactly getting off to the start she’d hope. “If you’d calm down a second and just let me ex—”
While she was trying to answer and pour him another cup of punch, the handsome jackass proceeded to lecture her on the techniques of proper punch distribution.
“If you’re going to take on a job, you ought to do that job and stop staring off into space like some wall-eyed owl.” Heath was voicing his objections so loudly, he’d missed what she said. He was about to ask her to repeat herself, but he didn’t get the chance.
The little vixen doused him again.
Cato lunged forward.
“What?” Oh, my God! She’d just baptized cutie-pie again. If she hadn’t grabbed the table, Cato would have fallen herself. Somebody had pushed her. Whirling around, she found three little girls in pink frilly dresses, giggling. They were running from a little boy and had used Cato’s wide butt as ‘home.’
“Sorry!” They chimed together and ran off.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Heath sputtered and spit as a fresh cascade of sticky drink poured off his face and clothes. “Why you little she-devil!” Heath growled.
“Oh, my goodness.” Cato grabbed a towel and came around dabbing at his body. She wiped his face, chest, stomach and was rubbing roughly at the stain on his crotch when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Jerking her head up, she saw him drawl.
“I think you got that spot.” She was still patting his growing erection when he snorted. “Now, look what you did.”
Cato glanced down, realized where her hand was and that the bulge she’d been cleaning was now considerably bigger. Good grief! Oh well, she could wilt from embarrassment or let the ‘new and improved Cato’ shine through. She opted for door #2.
“Is it like rubbing a lamp? Do I get three wishes?”
“Ha!” Heath threw back his head and laughed. “You might not be able to handle the genie that comes out of that bottle, baby.”
Licking her lips, Cato let out a long breath. “I’d like to try.” Gasping, she covered her mouth. This talking out loud business was gonna get her in trouble.
Heath groaned. “Damn, you and I need to have a private conversation…” If this little hell-cat was half as wild in bed as she was here, he couldn’t wait to get between her legs.
“You lead, I’ll follow, Sundance.” Impulsively, Cato stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, bold as brass. Lord, Edith Vincent would die the second time if she witnessed her handicapped daughter making such a spectacle of herself.
“Oh, you’re bad,” Heath whispered. This brown-eyed baby was as hot as a firecracker. “I think I need to turn you over my knee.”
“Bad?” Cato edged closer, just till the tips of her breasts grazed his chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, they both trembled. “Cowboy, if you give me a chance…I can be downright nasty.”
A bubble of joy erupted from her lips. Did she just say that? Honestly, the idea of being draped across his lap made her tremble.
Here he was, in an erotic Mexican stand-off with the little minx and she wasn’t backing down one iota. Passion fueled Heath’s blood. “I’m ready to go a good round with you anytime, anyplace. Just say the word.”
Her inner good girl was reminding her that perhaps it would be a good idea to be introduced before she drug him off to have her evil way with him. But who wanted to listen to her? She’d had her say too many times before.
“Word,” Cato said clearly and emphatically.
Hot-damn! He was about to throw her over his shoulder and stalk off into the sunset when Jaxson handed him a towel. “Don’t you think you ought to go change clothes?”
“What?” Hell! Heath glanced around and realized the whole assembly had their eyes on him and the little fox. “This isn’t over,” he promised her.
“I don’t want it to be over,” the juicy little doll answered with a hint of a smile around her pink bee-stung lips.
“I need to shower and change clothes, thanks to you,” he muttered as he held her gaze. Mercy! She was delectable, everything about her was perfect. Heath was starving to death. He ached to touch, taste and smell every inch of her.
Putting a hand on her hip, she let her eyes slide from his face to his dick, where she stared at him until he rose to the occasion. “Need any help, big boy? I’ve had experience, you know, I get myself all slick and slippery regularly.”
Cato was having a blast! Every sultry, seductive thing she’d ever wanted to say to a guy seemed to be tumbling out of her mouth.
“Oh, you’re something else, aren’t you?” His brother’s rumbling laughter behind him just egged Heath on. “I tell you what. You wait for me, right here. I’ll let you show me what all that experience has taught you.”
“Don’t get lost,” Cato called after him. As soon as he was gone and most everyone had turned around, Cato let loose. “Squeeeeeeeee!” Now, this was living!