Copyright © KyAnn Waters, 2010
All Rights Reserved, The Wild Rose Press
Erotic, Western Contemporary
e-book novella $2.50
rated double rose
A big truck rolled into town. The cowboy wore a black Stetson. Tristan McKay. He knows how to tie her up, but she refuses to be the woman to tie him down.
Jaycee Craven hasn't had hot, tie-me-up sex since Tristan left town. Okay, so six weeks ago she'd told him to go to hell. Now he's back in her one-horse town for the rodeo, only she's the one who's about to get more than an 8-second ride.
Tristan McKay walked away, but he never had any intention of staying gone. Jaycee's temper flares with the same intensity as her arousal and he's been burned by both. Trouble is--he likes playing with fire.
Tristan opened the driver door, walked around the front of the vehicle, and opened her door. He put his hand on her left thigh and spun her around on the leather seat. Her skin was smooth and soft. His cock thickened with desire and swelled into the fly of his jeans. He relished the tortuous heat pooling in his balls and the tingle at the base of his spine. She wanted his truck? Fine. He wanted her.
He cut her off by slanting his lips over hers. He touched her silken lips with his tongue, silently demanding her surrender to what he knew still boiled between them. A fierce intensity that neither had ever wanted to fight--not until he’d pushed her too far.
Her lips parted and he slicked past her teeth. Tongue rubbed against tongue. He growled and spread her thighs with his hips. Reaching up, he tugged the elastic, freeing her hair to fall around her shoulders.
Her fingers clutched his shirt. His abdominals quivered. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips. Linking her feet, she dug her heels into his ass and urged him closer. Heat raced through his body. He dropped the keys to the floor mat then grasped her buttocks and lifted her hard against his groin. Her thighs spread wider.
Tristan ate at her mouth, trailed a hand higher, feeling each rib as he trekked toward her breast. When he finally cupped the soft mound, she whimpered and arched into his hand. Her taut nipple prodded into his palm. He pinched and rolled the beaded peak through her shirt. It wasn’t enough.
He backed away and tugged her tank top up and off. "Ah hell, Jaycee."
Damn, she was pretty. Rosy, nickel-sized nipples centered on gently slopping breasts. They were milky white against the tanned contours of her arms and shoulders. He recalled how sensitive and sweet she was. He bent and pulled one delicious tip into his mouth, slathering her with moist kisses. She moaned and cupped the side of his head.
"I hate you," she whispered.