by Maya Banks
that, given the way the towel just moved.
“The bruises, Morgan, can you see them now?”
“What bruises?” He was hard. That meant he was aroused. And if she was aroused and he was aroused, then—
She heard him chuckle. “A little distracted, are we?”
Bruises. Damn, they were talking about his bruises. Focus. She looked him dead in the eye and lied. “Not distracted, no. Just trying to make a point. I can’t see any bruising.” Well, at least that part was true. “Not on your shoulder or your knee. I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “They’re just not there.”
He said nothing, raising his eyebrow instead. Her gaze hadn’t taken in either knee or shoulder. The lift of his brow told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. But how could he not? Her tongue was still plastered to the floor. “You gonna stand there dripping all over the carpet? Or are you going to get dressed?”
“That depends.” He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get his clothes on.
“On what?”
“On you.”
“On me?”
“Yes. On you. Do you want me to get dressed?”
Hell, no! “What kind of a question is that?”
“A logical one. I saw you watching me. You just don’t seem particularly eager for me to put my clothes on. In fact—” again with the infuriating dimple, “—you seem to have developed a certain affinity for my towel.”
It wasn’t the damn towel she had an affinity for. If he could just lose the towel, she’d be happy.
No. She wouldn’t.
“Yeah, Dan. What can I say? I’ve fallen for the towel. I’ve always been a sucker for a good towel.”
Daniel looked surprised. “You have? Well, I tell you what. I’m a nice guy and I’d hate to get in the way of you getting what you want. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna go get dressed and I’m gonna leave you with my towel so the two of you can have a few minutes alone to get acquainted.”
Ever so casually, he pulled the terry cloth from around his waist and handed it to a dumbfounded Amy.
“It’s a little wet,” he said apologetically and shrugged. “Sorry.”
Amy was sure she’d have responded appropriately if she hadn’t been so busy confirming her erection suspicions. The man had the granddaddy of all hard-ons.
“Wet?” she muttered. Forget the towel. The wettest thing in the room right now was her. She wished she had a pair of super-industrial-strength panties, because the longer she stared at Daniel’s cock, the wetter she got.
Well, don’t stare, then.
Easy for you to say.
Lift your eyes upwards, to his face.
I swear, I’m trying. It’s just not working.
Daniel saved her from further self-debate. “I’ll be back in five, Morgan. Enjoy getting to know the towel.”
He turned around and sauntered off to his room, leaving the towel dangling uselessly in her hand.
Ridin’ the edge of lust is fun—until someone falls in love.
Cowgirl Up and Ride
© 2008 Lorelei James
A Rough Riders book.
Goody-two boots AJ Foster has waited her entire life for her dream cowboy Cord McKay to see her as more than the neighbor girl in pigtails. Now that she’s old enough to stake her claim on him, she’s pulling out all the sexual stops and riding hell-bent for leather—straight for his libido.
Divorced rancher Cord has sworn off all women…until innocent AJ suggests he teach her how to ride bareback—and he realizes she doesn’t mean horses or bulls. Between his responsibilities running his massive ranch, missing his young son and dealing with the sexual shenanigans of his brother and cousins, Cord is more than willing to take AJ up on her offer. On a trial basis.
The fun and games tie them both up in knots. AJ isn’t willing to settle for less than the whole shootin’ match with her western knight. But for Cord, even though the sexy cowgirl sets his blood ablaze, he’s determined to resist her efforts to lasso his battered heart.
Sweet, determined AJ has the power to heal—or heel—the gruff cowboy…unless Cord’s pride keeps him from admitting their relationship is more than a simple roll in the hay.
Warning: this book contains: raunchy sex scenes that’ll work you into a lather faster than a winded horse, graphic language, resourceful use of baling twine, ménage a trois, ménage a quatage, and yippee! hot nekkid man-on-man-lovin’.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Cowgirl Up and Ride:
He sighed, primed to leave, when Amy Jo darted onto the dance floor with some fresh-faced buck who had three extra pairs of hands.
Rather than go home to watch lousy TV alone, he settled in and watched her. She’d two-step a couple of numbers with one guy, flit to the bar for a fresh drink, and drag a new dance partner to the floor.
Cord hid in the darkened corner for over an hour, tracking every enticing sway of her slim hips, every smooth glide of those long legs, every exaggerated shoulder roll, every sexy chest shimmy, every toss of that sleek platinum hair. Not once did Amy Jo acknowledge him, even though she was as hyper-aware of him as he was of her.
Her sexy little ass shake turned him on more than if she’d have been buck-ass naked grinding her crotch on a brass stripper’s pole.
When she was alone at the bar Cord moseyed up behind her. “Evenin’ Amy Jo.”
She tossed him a quick grin and granted him a not so quick once over. “Surprised to see you in here, Cord. And it’s AJ now, not Amy Jo.”
“My mistake. Why the name change?”
“New attitude, new name.” She resumed drinking her beer.
Cord scooted close enough to catch a whiff of her sunshiny scent. He noticed sweat beading on the curve of her neck below her ear and had the strangest desire to place his mouth there and gently suck the salty droplets clean away.
A beat passed and she didn’t acknowledge him.
“I didn’t know you liked to dance.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
I’d like to learn. Every. Damn. Thing.
“Who are you here with?”
Amy Jo—AJ—faced him fully. “Who are you here with?”
“No one.”
“That why you came looking for me? Can’t find anyone better to hang out with?”
“No. Didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”
She shrugged.
The classic brush off—a pointed reminder on why he avoided the bar scene. He flashed her a fake smile. “Anyway. I came by to say hello. I’m headin’ home and I wondered if you needed a lift.”
AJ arched a slim brow. “You offering to give me a ride, cowboy?”
Cord curbed his response, you can ride me any time, any place, as long as you want, cowgirl, and cleared the lust from his throat. “Yeah.”
The band announced the next tune, Willie Nelson’s “Always On My Mind” and AJ shook her head at yet another eager, happy-handed cowboy approaching her for a dance. “Thanks for the offer, but no.”
“You sure? You’ve been drinkin’ pretty heavily the last couple of hours. Probably shouldn’t be drivin’.”
“How would you know how much I’ve been drinking?”
“Because I’ve been watchin’ you. Closely. Every step and every sip, darlin’. I couldn’t take my eyes off you and you damn well know it.” Her confidence slipped; he moved in. “You like that I’ve been watchin’ you, sweet Amy Jo.”
“AJ,” she corrected softly.
“You like that I’ve been watchin’ you, sweet AJ.”
“So while you were watching, did you see anything you liked, McKay?”
“Oh yeah.” His gaze landed on her lush mouth.
“Right. Give me a break.”
Cord managed to drag his eyes back to hers. “You callin’ me a liar?”
“No. I’m calling your bluff.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I know you’ll look your fill, burn my clothes away with your
sexy eyes, but you’re too damn polite to do anything more than gawk at me.”
Cord nearly choked, “Polite?”
“Polite. Responsible. Chicken. Whatever.” She stared at his lips and ran her pink tongue over her teeth. “Tell me, Cord, don’t you ever just wanna say to hell with what’s expected of you and do what makes you feel good?”
“Every damn day.”
She reached up, letting her fingers fiddle with a button near his shirt collar. “Then tell me why you don’t?”
“I’ll tell you anything you wanna know, baby doll, as long as you answer a question for me first.”
“Okay.”
“Look at me.”
When AJ’s lust-filled eyes met his, it took every ounce of restraint not to smash his mouth to hers, hike up that sassy excuse of a skirt, spread those silky thighs wide, and nail her against the closest paneled wall.
Focus.
“Can I buy you a drink? Like the shot you did earlier?”
“You wanna see me do a blowjob?”
Cord froze.
She laughed. “See why I won forty bucks?”
“Just for sayin’ that raunchy word out loud?”
“No. For doing it.”
He lifted both brows. “Doin’ what?”
“Giving them a group blowjob. See, the object is the same with the drink as it is with the act, shoving the glass in your mouth as far as it’ll go, keeping a tight grip with your lips. Then you tilt your head and suck hard and deep, bracing yourself for the warmth spilling down your throat as you try to swallow it all.”
He growled, “What game are you playin’ with me, little girl?”
AJ stood on the tips of her boots. “I haven’t been a little girl for a long time, Cord McKay.”
“Believe me, I noticed.”
“About damn time.”
If he leaned in a fraction of an inch, he could lay a hungry kiss on those ripe lips, not innocent like the flirty smooch she’d teased him with last year. Would this bolder AJ take the initiative?
She didn’t. Instead, she lifted a shaking hand to his cheek. Her fingertips delicately traced the outline of his neatly trimmed goatee, lingering on the short hair above his upper lip. A chaste, yet erotic caress to make his cock stand up and take notice if it wasn’t already rock-hard.
“No games. If you want to play with me, all you have to do is ask. I’ll be here tomorrow night, waiting for your answer.”
AJ spun on her bootheel and vanished into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, leaving Cord McKay absolutely pole-axed.