Shep is attempting to save his late father’s cattle ranch, Blackshaw Cattle Company, from foreclosure. With every naughty adventure, Emma stops mourning the life she left behind. Eventually, she’ll need to choose between the life she thought she wanted and the life she’s grown to love with Shep. How will she say no to forever with a dirty-talking cowboy?
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His eyes search mine for a moment then he chuckles. “You look like you’re ready to jump out of your skin.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit.
His one eyebrow arches in that sexy curve. “Do what exactly?”
“Say goodbye to a one-night stand.” I draw in a deep breath before continuing on. “Not that I think of you as a one-night stand, because I totally don’t. I guess, logistically it’s more of three-night stand, right? But what I mean is I don’t think you’re like this toss-away guy.”
“That’s good.” He smiles.
I keep telling myself to stop taking, and yet my mouth keeps opening. “You know what I’m saying though, right? That I think of you as more than that. That I like you.”
His arched brow wings up higher.
I smack my hand over my mouth then drop it. “But not like, like you.”
He frowns. “You don’t like me?”
“No, I do like you,” I correct, watching heady amusement reach his eyes. “But not to a stalker level or anything.”
His lips are soft and his kiss is sweet, slowly pulling me in. God, he knows how to take my mouth and own it, until I’m melting under his touch. There’s a confidence in the way he kisses that I’ve never known before. It’s in the way his lips move in perfect rhythm with mine. When he wraps his strong arms around me, yanking me against him, everything inside of me wakes up, as if parts of me have been asleep for far too long, waiting for his touch.
Obviously decided to go ahead with this, he lifts a hand, threading his fingers into my hair, and deepens the kiss. That’s when I realize I don’t control shit. And certainly, most of all, not him.
His tongue thrusts into mine roughly, demanding I react to his passion. And as I do, heat comes alive between my thighs. Suddenly, he’s stepping forward, sending me back until my back hits the wall with little care if it would hurt me. This is what I want.
I can’t be sure how long has gone by since I first put on the blindfold, every minute seeming like an hour. I’m hyperaware of my surroundings. The birds singing off in the distance. The mouse or chipmunk scurrying behind me. Even the way the warm breeze caresses my puckered nipples. More importantly, I’m acutely aware of the wetness between my thighs, the heat there.
Suddenly, a crunching sound catches my breath in my throat. I cock my head, hearing another crunch against the forest floor. I smile, embracing the energy surrounding me. I can feel Jackson watching me. He doesn’t need to say a word. I know he’s there, and I know it’s him. I feel his passion pulsating around me. It’s palpable. Tangible, even.
The crunching of his shoes against the branches and the rocks gets closer . . . and closer . . . and closer, my heartbeat banging in my ears.
Then all that power is in front of me. “Good girl,” Jackson murmurs in my ear.
When he glances over his shoulder, he’s as focused as I’ve ever seen him. I’m only reminded how little control I really have where it comes to Jackson. He’s not the type of guy you can control. I might have started this tonight. That penetrating look in his eyes tells me he plans on finishing it, if he decides to see this through.
And that’s the feeling I get from him. He’s still undecided.
He gives that mesmerizing half-grin, and takes a chair from the table and sits down. Legs spread wide, in a gesture that is as sexy as it is clear, he arches a single eyebrow again. “Dance for me.”
I swallow. Deeply. He’s daring me. Maybe even challenging me and pushing my limits to see how far I plan to take this game of ours. I’m all in. Two years, I’ve built up the fantasy of Jackson Keller, imagining how a powerful man like him would be in bed. Touching me. Tasting me. Fucking me. I need to find out if the real deal is as good as what I’ve dreamed up.
This is my only chance.
Determined to see this through, I push past the nerves threatening to stop me. I shut my eyes and feel the beat of the music, slowly circling my hips back and forth. When I’ve found my rhythm, I reopen my eyes, finding his penetrating stare narrowed on me. He’s as cool and calm and collected as always, when I slide my hands down over my sides and my thighs, circling my hips, teasing him.
I want to break through to the man who can’t control himself. I want to drive him fucking crazy.
I’m slumped on him, my head resting on his shoulder. His hands stroke my back, waiting me out to recover, my inner muscles squeezing his dick. When I finally lift my head, he’s grinning. “I like the way you come,” he says.
I laugh softly, embracing the orgasmic glow. “How do I come?”
“Without restraint.” He thrusts his hand into my hair and growls, “In fact, I like it so much I want to see it again.” His fingers only tighten in my hair when he rises. Then I find myself kneeling on the chair, my hands gripping the back of the seat. He’s got my head angled back, arching my back and his firm slap on my bum causes an unexpected shiver. I moan, somehow needing more of that intensity when I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance seconds before he’s back inside of me.
There’s no misunderstanding who’s in charge.
His pelvis slaps against my ass, and as his hand swats my warm bum, I moan into the pleasure he’s offering. Another swat . . . and another . . . and another . . . and I’m shivering and gasping. Whether it be from the slight sting of the hits, the way he’s tugging on my hair, pinning me exactly where he wants me, or how he’s rough in the ways I’ve always wanted, my inner muscles are responding to his hard cock driving inside me.
I gasp when he tugs my head farther back and blankets my body with his.
“I like how I make this sexy body shake.”