Hey y’all! It’s definitely cowboy season here because the rodeo is coming this weekend! Guess who’s getting out her cowgirl boots and practicing twirling some rope? Well, not this girl–on the rope part, anyway.
But I am definitely getting ready to sit in the stands with a bunch of country people and look at some tight Wrangler butts. Aren’t you?
(photo purchased from Deposit Photos)
Oh look, he’s all ready for some fun, too!
For me, this summer is all about lengthening the rope. What does that mean? That I’m not holding back for a minute. I’m grabbing on to what I want and having a great time doing it, even if it’s out–WAY OUT–of my comfort zone.
It means driving places I’ve never been and asking near strangers to go places and do things with me. Why? Because why not? We always need friends, and at the end of my life, I won’t regret doing something as much as I’ll regret NOT doing it.
I’m putting out the word about Sat. June 25. It’s NATIONAL COWBOY DAY! So many of us authors on this blog are attending this Facebook event. I hope you will too. If you join early, when we hit 1000 attendees, we’re giving away a Kindle Paperwhite. PLUS, one lucky partier will get a gift card. Not to mention every author is giving away her own prizes. So do not even blink. Or breathe. Just CLICK JOIN.
If nothing else, come for the half-naked cowboy photos. The wall’s bound to be plastered with them!
Now for a sneak peek at Cowboy Rush, available only at Amazon!
In seconds he was drenched to the skin. Worse, he looked up to see Ryan riding hell-bent for the barn, her clothes pasted to her, hair dark with wetness. With a huff, he rushed after her.
By the time he reached the dry space, she had a towel in hand, rubbing down her horse. Droplets zigzagged down her throat to cling to the top of her breasts before disappearing into her cleavage. He gaped at her for a heartbeat then sprang forward.
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice came out harsher than ever.
She whirled. “Rubbing down Beauty.”
He did a double-take. “Beauty? You named her?”
“Yeah, it fits. Now leave me alone, Kade Dalton. I got this.”
He opened his mouth to say something smart but couldn’t. Not when she stood there putting her animal first. Most women would be squealing about their hair frizzing but she wasn’t a bit fussed.
Outside the wind drove the rain at the side of the barn. They both turned to stare at the opening and the flood of water washing over the floor. Beauty stamped.
“A bad storm.” Her voice was almost a squeak.
Looking at her closer, he said, “My brothers are still out there. Manny too.”
“Not your pa. He came out of the field early.”
The crawling feeling was back. If something had happened to his mother again, he couldn’t afford another day with his head about to explode.
He yanked off his hat and rubbed a hand over his wet face. When he let his hand drop, Ryan was staring. “Get a towel for yourself, Greenhorn.”
She bristled. “You’re as wet as I am.”
Oh hell, that was worse. He was wet, she was wet…in seconds their clothes could be in a heap and the pair of them tucked up in a warm bed of hay. Kissing, tumbling, sliding into her wicked tight sheath.
He groaned. “I said grab a towel. I’ll take over.” He took the towel out of her hand and began working Beauty’s wet coat.
He wasn’t prepared for the blow that glanced off his back. “What the—” He looked up in time to receive a shove in the side. He braced his legs and lowered his head. “Did you just throw a horse brush at me?”
“Yeah.” She looked as surprised as he felt.
“And hip check me?”
“Yes, I did.” Her lips curled in a sneer he burned to wipe off her face—with his mouth.
He stopped what he was doing and stalked toward her, gathering his control with each boot fall. “Look, woman, I don’t know where you come from, but we don’t solve our problems with our fists here.”
“Is that why your knuckles were scabbed over a week ago and Witt had a green bruise on his cheek?” When she settled one hand on her narrow waist, his cock stiffened painfully.
After she removed her hat and raked her fingers through her long, wet hair, he couldn’t take it another minute. He lunged forward. Wrapping his arms around her hips, he lifted her. Slammed his mouth over hers.
Her eyes flared wide a split second before she locked her hands on his nape, angled her head and kissed him back with all the pent-up passion he felt raging through his system. Teeth, lips, tongue. He stabbed deep, drawing moans from her. Her sweetness permeated his head and shredded the last of his control.
He’d been about to tell her to keep her hands to herself and now all he wanted was her touching him. Need mounted. He rocked his hips against hers, pulling another earthy groan from her sweet pink lips.
Wild for more, he backed her against the nearest wall, pinioning her between his body and hard wood. He wasn’t ashamed to grind his hips against hers in a primal dance as old as time.
She ground right back.
“Fuck, you taste good.” He claimed her mouth again, cradling her face and drinking deep. Using her arm strength, she levered herself up to place her legs around his hips. Desire attacked his system. He had to taste more of her. Had to sink into her.
With a groan, he tore his mouth free and kissed down her delicate jaw. Bit her chin. She cried out as he moved to her delicious throat and creamy breasts. He licked the wetness from her skin, aching for the moisture between her thighs.
Her ragged breathing spurred him on, along with the scorching heat of her body through her very wet clothes. “You aren’t shivering,” he said between kisses.
“Neither are you. Girls…” gasp, “…aren’t much different than boys.”
He pulled back to look into her eyes. Dark green with gold flecks. When she came, what color would they turn? Hell, he couldn’t think of that.
He shouldn’t even be touching her. He had no right.