A COWBOY’S SEDUCTION - Cynthia D’Alba
SADIE AND HER COWBOY - Paige Tyler
THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND TEST - Elle James
HER UNIFORM COWBOY - Donna Michaels
I AM NOT YOUR MELODY - Shoshanna Evers
CHASE AND SEDUCTION - Randi Alexander
THE COWBOY WINS A BRIDE - Cora Seton
THE HARDER THEY FALL - Beth Williamson
THE REAL MCCOY - Sabrina York
BADASS - Sable Hunter
COWBOYS NEVER FOLD - Lexi Post
CUPID’S COWBOY - Becky McGraw
By Cynthia D’Alba
Nonetheless, as they reached a shadowed spot, he lifted her chin until their gazes met. Her breath caught as she looked into his eyes. He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss. When she didn’t pull away, he went back for a second and then a third taste of her mouth. As their lips met for the third time, she moved closer and her mouth opened slightly. Brock took advantage to sweep his tongue through the opening and into the heat of her mouth.
They shared breaths as the kiss got deeper and wetter until he finally pulled away and rested his forehead on hers.
“Damn, woman.” His heart kicked like a mule against his chest. “Your mouth is like a drug. I can’t get enough.”
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, threaded his fingers into her satiny hair and sealed his lips to hers again. At the same time, he walked her backwards, deeper into the dark niche he’d found for them.
Natalie’s legs quaked with nervous sexual attraction, so weak she feared they wouldn’t hold her upright. Brock Wade’s kisses were like sin and heaven rolled into one. His tongue slipped into her mouth to stroke and taste everywhere. Their tongues twisted together, their individual tastes mingled until Natalie wasn’t sure where she stopped and Brock started.
She let him back her into a dark corner, fully aware of what she was doing. Fun Natalie was in control now, completely shutting down any possible protests from Accountant Natalie. The area between her thighs grew hot and swollen with unresolved arousal. A whirl of heavy-duty lust spun in her gut and she pressed her achy sex against his hard cock.
Finally, sanity forced its way to her brain’s forefront. What was she doing? She barely knew this guy and yet her body burned with need for him. She hadn’t had sex since her divorce two years ago. She wanted sex. She missed it. Craved it. Wasn’t that what she promised herself? A wild and crazy time?
But she didn’t know this guy.
Her body didn’t seem to mind that fact, but still…
She lost her train of thought as he ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of her ear, then down the large tendon in her neck. He worked his way back up with kisses and nibbles. Chills marched down her spine, as fire leapt from nerve ending to nerve ending.
Grabbing his ass with both hands, she pulled his hardness against her. His butt was tight and firm and, heavens, she wanted to touch the flesh there.
By Paige Tyler
Chauvinist pig. “Because those are the only things a woman can do, right?” She tried to rein in her temper, but it was quickly nearing its boiling point again. “I’ll have you know I’ve been doing a lot more than sewing quilts and washing clothes out at the ranch since my father died, Mr. Wagner.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re in the predicament you’re in.”
The words cut Sadie more deeply than she wanted to admit, maybe because she’d often wondered if she was partly to blame for making the ranch such an easy target. But she’d be damned if she was going to let a gunslinger like Jake Wagner take her to task for it. Before she even realized what she was doing, she lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face.
The sound of it echoed in the stable, but Sadie barely heard it. Instead, she stood there, shocked by what she’d just done. She’d never hit anyone in her life.
There was no way Jake could have expected her to slap him, and yet he didn’t seem surprised by her show of violence. He did look angry, though. His jaw was clenched so tightly she thought it might crack.
She’d never been one to run from a fight, but the strange glint in his eye made her think it was time to make her escape. Mumbling something about wanting to get back to the ranch before it got dark, Sadie started to back away, but Jake caught her wrist. Without a word, he strode across the enclosure, dragging her with him. The fury she’d felt earlier gave way to fear.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.
He stopped and turned to face her. “Doing what someone should have done a long time ago.”
Sadie opened her mouth to ask him what in tarnation he was talking about, but all that came out was an “oomph,” as he sat down on a bale of hay and threw her over his knee.
“What—?” she began, but the rest of her words ended in a startled gasp as Jake’s hand came down on her upturned bottom.
The barbarian was spanking her!
By Elle James
Already shaking her head, Emma backed toward the door. "I don't want to set you up for failure. I'm really not interested in finding love. I had it."
Leslie squeezed her arm. "I know. Thinking of loving anyone else is hard, isn't it? I know exactly where you are. I haven't even tried, yet."
"Yet. At least you might some day." Emma shook her head, pain pinching her throat. "Not me. I had the love of my life. I don't want second best."
"At least, give the system a chance to find a match that closely suits you. Give him one date, and maybe your brothers will get off your back."
"I don't know. I don't like leading someone on when I don't want it to go anywhere."
"Just do it and keep an open mind. We screen our clients and do background checks. At least, you know you won't be getting an ex-con or child molester. You won't regret it, I promise."
Emma chewed on her lip. Leslie's proposal might do the trick. She just didn't want her friend's matchmaking business to suffer the consequences. "The date is doomed to failure. Are you sure you want to take the hit?"
"Be honest with the data. The system will do the rest and I'm willing to take the risk."
For a long moment, Emma stared into her friend's hopeful face. "Anyone ever tell you saying no to you is hard?" She laughed. "If you keep that up, you should get lots of business."
Leslie nodded, a smug smile on her lips. "I plan on it. I only want others to have a chance at the love you and I have both known. I wouldn't have missed the experience for the world."
Emma sighed. "Me either." She let Leslie lead her into a spare office where she could use the computer to enter her data. Emma made a point of putting it all out there—the good, the bad and the not so attractive. If the system found someone to date her, the result would be a miracle. And once out at the ranch with her brothers running him through his paces, any prospect would soon learn no one would equal their expectations.
She'd be off the hook and free to pursue her own goals and dreams. Which included purchasing Old Man Rausch's one-hundred-and-fifty-acre spread on Willow Creek. The place would be all hers, paid for with the money she'd been saving from her work as a horse trainer for the T-Bar-M Ranch. Once she lived on her own, her brothers couldn't interfere with her life.
By Donna Michaels
“No.” She frowned. “It’s not fine. I accused you of something horrible, and I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Shit. Tears were filling her eyes again.
“I think it’s wonderful that you help out the Humane Society.”
He did more than that, but he wasn’t about to enlighten the crazy woman. “Thanks.” His tone gave away his less than sincere thoughts, but he didn’t care. He was ticked off. Damn high-n-mighty Pennsylvanian.
“Why are you so sensitive? I said I was sorry.”
“Why indeed.” He stepped closer then stalked the frustrating Yankee when she backed up. “Tell me, Ms. Wyne.” He didn’t stop until her back hit the front of a stall. “There are several other people who live on this ranch, did any of them cross your mind as being the culprit?”
Eyes round, she swallowed and slowly shook her head.
Kade bit back a curse. “Figures.”
He stepped away, and then changed his mind. Grasping the spokes on either side of her head, he pulled himself in and stared into her widening brown eyes. “Just what the hell is your problem with me, lady?”
She drew in a breath, her luscious mouth opening as if to respond; the action brought their bodies in contact in a hell of a delectable way. And son-of-a-bitch, if his body didn’t overrule his mind and take over the interrogation. Tightening his grasp on the bars, he pressed closer, rejoicing in her hitched breath and the way she trembled against him.
“I…” She swallowed, blinked a few times, then asked, “Wh-what was the question again?”
Damned if he knew. Christ, he was lucky to remember his own name with her soft curves brushing him, pulling him out of himself, busting his restraint, making his need a number one priority.
By Shoshanna Evers
Allie shook her head in amazement. This guy had nerve, moving her body about like a ragdoll just because he could, and talking to her like she was a naughty little girl. Unbelievable.
“I wonder how the owner of this ranch would feel if he knew how you’re treating his new business partner,” she said, barely able to contain her anger.
He slowed the horse to a halt. “What did you say?”
His voice was steely, even, and the hint of threat behind the words made Allie slink back — only to be reminded by the feel of his arm around her that she was quite literally not going anywhere.
“I didn’t mean…” She swallowed hard, and forced herself to meet his hard gaze. “I have a meeting with Bill Edwards. I just was looking for him, that’s all.”
“I am Bill Edwards,” he said. “And you can bet your ass I was not expectin’ you.”
Any dream she’d had of impressing her new business partner with her professionalism flew out the window. Her hopes of seeing Bill in person and instantly picking up where their emails had let off were dashed as well. She looked heavenward and sighed audibly.
“Can we start over?” she asked, still looking at the impossibly panoramic sky.
By Randi Alexander
Too many people were staring, nudging each other, and grinning. Breathless from the embarrassment, her head started to spin. Weak woman that she was, she shook with a burst of lust that burned low in her belly. God, how she wanted this man. He was pure temptation and her hands itched to grab his thighs and give him a wicked grinding in return.
She snapped back to reality and stiffened her body against her own response.
He was coming on strong. Strong enough to make her wish she could get her friggin’ moral compass to point another direction, just for one naughty night.
The band’s lead guitarist started a blaring, wailing solo on stage, which drew people’s attention away from her. Chase bent his head and his breath warmed her ear. “My trailer. Ten minutes.” He released her and his booted steps faded as he headed back to the stage.
She nearly fell backward. His trailer. Alone with him. A chill of desire shuddered through her, puckering her nipples into tight points and forcing blood down low to swell her tingling, needy lips. She wanted to lie on his bed and watch him kiss a path down her body, settling between her legs, his cowboy hat brushing her thighs as his tongue flicked…
“Oh no you don’t.” She spoke the words to herself. What was she thinking? If she had a car here, she’d leave the party right now. How else could she avoid temptation?
Beatrix came back with their beer. “Your face is as red as this cup. What did I miss?” Tracy beamed. “Chase stopped by for a visit.”
“Oooh.” Beatrix moved closer. “What did he say?”
Reno shook her head and took her beer. “Nothing. He was just working the crowd.”
Tracy leaned closer. “Reno, I saw his lips moving. What did he say?” She shot her a warning look. “He asked why I hang out with such annoying women.”
Beatrix and Tracy laughed. “Did he give you his room number?” Tracy wiggled her eyebrows.
Reno rolled her eyes, anxious to end this conversation. She sipped her beer, looking at the stage where Chase finished the set with some wild gyrations and jumps.
“Thank you.” He tipped his hat to the cheering crowd, and the band took a bow while their sound guy put in a CD.
Chase left the stage and disappeared through the door leading to the next sound stage where the actors’ trailers were housed. Where he’d be waiting for her to join him.
She looked at her friends, desperately needing a distraction to keep her from thinking about him. But they were both grinning.
“You liiiiike him,” Beatrix sang.
Reno stared down into her foamy beer. Yeah, she did like him. Too much. She could easily fall for him and start dreaming of a happy ever after. But she was a farm-raised, small-town girl. A man like Chase would use her up and stomp on her self-esteem like two thousand pounds of Brahma bull.
Right then she resolved to ignore him, pretend she wasn’t horny for him. She’d convince herself she didn’t want to run after him, pin him to the bed in his trailer, and ride reverse cowgirl on him all night…
By Cora Seton
So why did the idea send tendrils of warmth into all the right places?
She glanced up at Ethan to find him glancing down, and the warm feeling curved around her insides again. Surely New York men couldn’t be shorter than this crew, or any less manly, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been around so much blatant testosterone. She must be ovulating. Why else would she react like this to a perfect stranger?
Ethan touched her arm. “This way.” She followed him down the hall, the others falling into place behind them like a cowboy entourage. She stifled a sudden laugh at the absurdity of it all, slipped her hand into her purse and grabbed her digital camera, capturing the scene with a few clicks. Had this man – this…cowboy – sat down and planned out the video he’d made? She tried to picture Ethan bending over a desk and carefully writing out “Sweet. Good cook. Ready for children.”
She blew out a breath and wondered if she was the only one stifling in this sudden heat. Ready for children? Hardly. Still…if she was going to make babies with anyone…
Shaking her head to dispel that dangerous image, she found herself at the airport’s single baggage carousel. It was just shuddering to life and within moments she pointed out first one, then another sleek, black suitcase. Ethan took them both, began to move toward the door and then faltered to a stop. He avoided her gaze, focusing on something far beyond her shoulder. “It’s just…I wasn’t….”
Oh God, Autumn thought, a sudden chill racing down her spine. Her stomach lurched and she raised a hand as if to ward off his words. She hadn’t even considered this.
He’d taken one look and decided to send her back.
By Beth Williamson
What the hell?
TJ worked like a madwoman all morning. She tried not to think about him. Sitting outside doing nothing. He wasn’t stalking her, per se, he was just there.
At lunchtime, she debated whether to call Pablo, her assistant manager, to get some lunch from the roach coach that rolled in, but decided against it.
He wasn’t going to win this time!
She shut her laptop and grabbed her keys and phone. When she stepped out into the sunshine and heat, she remembered how much she hated hot weather. More than the man sitting in the shade of the tree.
She walked past him without a word. He just smiled and let her go with a "See you later, Cinnamon Girl."
For three days, the stalemate continued. He would talk and she would ignore. Now, it was hard to ignore such a fine specimen of a man. He was, to be honest, a helluva good-looking man and she’d really like to see what he was like under the sheets.
On the fifth day of their “acquaintance", she found out a lot more about what was under Hank’s clothes. And vice versa.
TJ was down by the bullpens, inspecting and making sure that the paperwork matched the animals. She occasionally discovered an owner had cheated. As a consequence, she was always thorough in her inspections.
It was a good thing her parents hadn’t named her Grace. When a bucket decided to jump in front of her, she decided to trip over it and make a complete ass of herself. What she didn’t expect was to have a pair of strong arms try to stop her inglorious fall. That surely had not happened before.
His arms felt like steel beams beneath her. She landed on them with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. Unfortunately, her descent was still in progress, and she took him down with her. There was no stopping gravity. He turned her in time to stop her from landing face first.
She landed on the concrete floor, littered with hay, stale manure and God knows what else. Then, he slammed on top of her.
Now, it had been extremely pleasant, or more so, to land on him five days ago. She had been pressed up against him then, but it had been so brief, she hadn’t really felt enough. However, to have him on top of her was like being stuck in a furnace. Naked.
He was so hot. Literally. The man felt like a sculptor had carved him out of granite. Perfect muscle and bone blended to create a body that would probably stop a bullet. Her body was rising to him. Like two magnets pulled together.
"Damn, girl," he ground out. "You feel good."
She thought he felt damn good too; she also couldn’t get air back in her lungs. He was heavy, pressing down on her, but, oh, it was wonderful. She wiggled her hips and felt his hard dick pressing into her cleft. Just a bit to the left.
"Keep it up and we’re gonna shock the neighbors, Cinnamon Girl."
His whispered words fluttered across her lips right before he kissed her again. This wasn’t the goodnight kiss from a few days ago. This was a deliciously deep kiss that she felt all the way down to her toes.
By Sabrina York
He was big, and broad and roped with muscle. His stride was sure, determined and powerful. He wore boots that kicked up dust with every step, and chaps and even a Stetson. He had high cheekbones and a well-formed brow. His square chin was spattered with a dark shadow. His shirt was buttoned.
He looked like a real cowboy.
He looked like a man.
This guy could dance for her. No problem. She’d love to have him rub himself all over her—
His steps stalled as he caught sight of her.
“Well, hey there, cowboy,” she purred. It was probably the tequila purring, but he didn’t seem to care. He peered into the shadows.
She did him the favor of moving into the light. She liked that his nostrils flared and his throat worked. He touched the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”
Sexy. This stripper knew how to play a role.
“You’re late,” she said.
He blinked. “Late?”
“The party’s already started.” She sidled up to him—again, the tequila; normally she would never sidle up to anybody—and put her hand on his chest. The muscles rippled in response and something inside her rippled as well. It was probably her womb. Crying out for a visitor.
It had been a while, after all.
She leaned closer, against him, and it was good. She nestled her nose in his beautiful neck and took a whiff. And daham, he smelled sinful. Wicked. Alluring.
“What is that fragrance?” she asked. She needed to know. Wanted to bathe in it.
He chuckled; the sound rumbled through her. “Soap.”
“Mmm. Yummy.” She scudded her palm over his chest, his thick arms and down to his trim waist. He held steady as she explored, staring at her through insanely thick
lashes. It should be illegal for a man to have lashes like that. His features were locked and hard. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “You’re hard,” she murmured. Oh, God, he was.
“Yes, ma’am. I am.” This he said in a low purr, one that gave a sizzle of double entendre to the words.
Something cracked inside her. It was probably the remainder of her pickled restraint. He was the hottest man she’d ever seen, much less touched. His heat soaked into her and melted her, liquefied her.
She couldn’t stop her roving exploration and wouldn’t have anyway. Her hand drifted lower. His body tightened, his breath hitched as she reached his belt. And then she found him.
Her knees locked. Her pulse rocketed through her veins. Because Jesus God, he wasn’t just hard, he was rock hard.
“Nice.” A whisper, all she could manage. She gave him a little pump.
He hissed in a breath and said through his teeth, “Yeah. Nice.” His hand came to her waist. He stroked her bare skin beneath the hem of her tee. His calluses scraped her sanity.
“You are the most authentic of all of them,” she murmured, kissing his neck.
He grunted and pulled her closer, cupping her ass, measuring it with a squeeze. “Most authentic?”
“Of all the strippers.”
He stilled for a moment and she sensed he was about to pull away, which she could not allow. He was far too delicious to give up. So she nibbled his chin. She loved the bristles of his stubble. And he tasted…like a man. More man than she’d ever had.
Bio: Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching erotic romance. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage atwww.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara! Connect! Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/sabrinayork Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/SabrinaYorkBooks Twitter @sabrina_york https://twitter.com/sabrina_york Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5817917.Sabrina_York Pintrest: http://www.pinterest.com/sabrinayork/boards/ TOP
By Sable Hunter
He pushed on. “What were you doing at the bar tonight, Avery? I told you before – Hardbodies is no place for a girl like you. What if I hadn’t been there? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? You could have been gang raped!” He watched her little face flush with anger; and she was getting angrier by the minute. She’d never know how much he wanted her – God, what he wouldn’t give to scoop her up and kiss that mad right out of her. And he could do it too; there wasn’t a doubt about it.
“That wouldn’t have happened, Terence Lee was there – and that nice guy called Crowbar, of all things. Besides, I wouldn’t have stayed if you hadn’t been there. I was only there to see you, as you well know.”
This time it was his turn to ignore what she said. “And what kind of clothes were you NOT wearing?” He was egging her on and for some reason – loving every second of their sparring.
“Clothes? You want to discuss my wardrobe?” Avery spit out the words – totally furious. He had driven all this way just to fuss at her some more, just because she had dared enter his precious sanctum.
“I almost didn’t recognize you in that odd get-up you had on tonight.”
“You didn’t approve of what I had on? Why not? I dressed the way you like your women to dress.” Maybe, she had looked silly to him. A shaft of pain cut through her – she had never thought of that.
“Leather and chains are not for you, baby.” He picked up a bit of the granny gown, rubbing the material between his fingers. “This is more your style.”
Avery looked affronted – majorly affronted. “This – you like me in this?”
Almost laughing, he answered. “Yea, it’s kinda cute.” Kinda? Sexy as all get-out was more like it.
“You think this is me?” A look of determination came over her features. “You’ve certainly never seen the real me.” And before he could blink, she had picked up the hem of her garment and skimmed it over her head, leaving her standing there – totally – completely – gloriously – naked. “Now, what do you have to say to that?”
By Lexi Post
His voice snapped her out of her drool-like state, and she looked him in the eye. The man’s lips formed a slow smirk.
“Yes. Here.” She gave him the towels and he pushed one back at her.
“Can you dry my back? That water sprayer is strong.”
“Right, of course.” She was bumbling like an idiot, but what woman wouldn’t be. Damn, the man was built. He made her feel petite despite being taller than average. He had to be well over six feet. Stepping behind him, she was treated to another tantalizing view. As he wiped at his chest and arms, the muscles in his back danced, showing the many layers he had. She hesitated to touch him. He would be warm and so male.
“Isn’t it wet?” He rolled his shoulders. “It feels like it. “Yes. Yes, it is.” She forced herself to use the towel against his skin, careful not to let her hand touch him. If it did, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat
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By Becky McGraw
Bobby smiled, cranked the volume higher, and Leigh’s breathing hitched. Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and let Jase’s sexy voice drip like honey through her veins. The words he sang, those damned lyrics, were sex on sheet music, and his voice was perfect to deliver them.
Angel, let me take you back to heaven where you belong. Heaven tonight, God’s name on your lips, my body in yours, just one night to love you like I want. One night and I’ll be ready, ready for the fall. Just give me tonight inside those golden walls.
At that moment, Leigh wanted nothing more than to give Jase Sutter exactly what he was asking for in that song. Good God—her body was on fire, every hair stood on end, and she fought the urge to touch herself. His words, the phrasing, was just like he was singing those words to her, whispering them in her ear while they were in bed. That is what made a hit song, the feeling he was putting behind those words, and Leigh had that feeling that is exactly what she was hearing. A new hit song—a multi-platinum song.
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