by Jenna Gunn
The scenery gets an “A” from me already.
Both inside the train and outside. But I won’t say that in my review on the travel site. It’s my secret.
Stealing glances, I check out the fine specimen of Californian male that’s pretty much taking up all my personal space, casually reading the news.
Lord almighty.
This man is all sun-kissed and, oh my god, that is the scent of the ocean on him—
He’s my kryptonite, and I didn’t even know I had kryptonite.
He definitely smells like the ocean and some kind of clean, masculine soap, like cedar or something yummy.
Fighting the urge to draw in a deep breath, I jam my face into my bag, looking for anything to occupy myself with. When I come up empty-handed, I turn back to the landscape, praying I don’t melt into a puddle of lust right here on this pleather train seat.
When we round a big corner, whizzing along, I catch sight of beautiful palms, dancing sunlight, and crashing waves. Gasping a little, I can’t hide the wonder in my voice, “Oh! That’s incredible.”
I feel a shift of weight next to me, a crumple of paper. Then he’s leaning into me as he also checks out the view. I can feel his chest pressed against my shoulder as he angles for a view.
“Pretty spot. I work close to that place. I take it you’ve never taken a ride on The Coaster before?”
“Nope, I just got to town. But this ride’s got my vote so far, that’s for sure.”
He settles back into his seat, and when I dare look his way again, his hand is extended. I stare at it for a second before I gather the nerve to put my hand in his, knowing it’s a damned slippery slope. Touch him, and I might just orgasm on the spot.
“Bryce Archer,” he says as he accepts my palm. “Welcome to California, officially.” His cocky, sexy as sin grin melts my palm against his like cheese melts on toast.
“I’m Ray,” I say in return. With a smile, I add, “I think I might like this place.”
When I draw my hand back, I jam it under my leg. Heat throbs and sizzles up my arm.
That warm, rugged hand of his will be burned into my mind for a long, long time.
“Where are you heading, Ray?”
“San Diego and back.”
“Just out for a ride?”
The way he says ride…it’s drawn out like there’s way more meaning behind it than a simple train trip.
Yeah, I’d like to take him for a ride—a breathless, name-screaming, all-night ride.
“Just out to enjoy the scenery,” I say with a grin, feeling a little daring. What’s it hurt to flirt with him?
Flashing his killer baby blues at me, he asks, “Like what you see?”
My tongue dances across my aching lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” There’s no denying it. I’ve got a thing for him, already.
Try as I might, I can’t figure out why I’d feel so fired up for a perfect stranger who obviously knows he’s the stuff of fantasies.
Must be the salt air.
I’m not a fall on your face for a hottie kind of girl. But this one is the kind of man who wrecks your ideals. The kind that makes you leave the bar with the bad boy you know will leave your legs bowed and dignity in tatters.
His blue eyes dance. “What brings a Texas girl to California?”
“I’m starting a new job soon.” I don’t tell him I haven’t gotten the job yet, but I’m channeling my future self. Because I am getting that job.
“Well, congratulations, then.”
“Thanks, it’s been a dream of mine for a long time to live and work here.”
His eyes soften, a kind of fondness warming them. “I can’t imagine it any other way. This place is all I’ve ever known.”
“Your family is here then?”
He chuckles as he says, “Oh yeah, all of them. Sometimes, it’s a bit much. But honestly, I really can’t picture it any other way.”
“How about you, cowgirl? Your family back in Texas?”
A spear of sadness lances through my heart. Who knows where Mom is. She sounded so pleased with herself when she called last year. I barely had the stomach to listen to her talk about her latest man. Visions of her with her current alcohol-pickled loser left me feeling queasy. Tammy was always a sucker for the life of the party, and pretty much anyone who’d give her a place to live for who knows what in exchange.
Knowing my face shows more than I’d like, I share enough to satisfy the question. “I’m pretty much a one-woman show. Not too many of my kind around still.”
“Ah. Well, I’m sure you’ll find a nice group of friends of some sort in California. The people here are pretty nice. Just stay away from L.A.,” he says with a laugh.
“I’m not much of the Hollywood type. I’ve never been into anything fancy, really. Guess that’s what happens when you grow up poor as the dirt on a country road.”
He scrunches his face as if the thought of Los Angeles has a sour flavor. “It’s not my thing either. Too fancy there for my taste.”
“Well, I guess we have that in common,” I comment. “I’ll take work boots over heels any day.”
Grinning, he glances down at my feet. “And flip-flops?”
Wiggling my freshly painted toes, I say in a hushed tone, “Shhh…don’t tell anyone, but I’d rather be barefoot.”
His blue eyes sparkle with a laugh. “Those toes are too pretty to be hidden in boots. I think California is supposed to be your home.”
He glances down at my toes again, then slides his gaze up my bare legs. Goosebumps pop up in the wake of his heated appraisal.
Bryce Archer’s I-wanna-fuck stare lands on me, and his eyes burn me right down to the ground.
That man has got some kind of loaded-weapon gaze, let me tell you. One of those looks from him, and I’m ready to fall on my back with my legs spread open.
His eyes lock on my lips. “I get off soon.”
Umph. Is this conversation really happening?
Playing. With. Fire.
“I hope to as well,” falls off my suddenly daring tongue. Two can play at this game.
A thousand-watt smile flashes on his beautiful sin-worthy mouth. “You’re something else, Texas.”
Raising a brow, I reply, “I guess that’s a compliment.”
“It is. But I’ve got to get off this train. I have to go to a meeting I can’t miss. Got a pen?”
What?
My brain tries to focus on what he said, but all I can do is stare at his totally kissable lips. “A pen, um…yeah,” My fingers are nearly useless as I try to get a pen out of my bag.
He grabs what I realize is a Sharpie from me as the train starts to slow. Before I know what he’s doing, his strong fingers are wrapped around my wrist, and he extends my arm across his lap. The Sharpie marker is cold when it meets my flesh. In big block numbers, he scrawls a phone number across the pale skin of my forearm, marking me with his digits.
With the sexiest damn chuckle, he winks. “I’ll be looking forward to you buying me that beer. I’m busy till five…”
I’m owl-eyed and unable to move.
His mouth opens onto the palm of my hand before I can react. His teeth gently nip me, and his tongue dances a sensual circle across the flesh on the inside of my hand.
Yoweeee!
Oh…my god.
Did he just lick my hand?
He just licked me.
Tingles run over my whole body, and I feel like I might just come on the spot.
His voice is all gravel and seduction when he lets go of me, “I can show you a proper welcome to California, Ray.”
The laugh that comes of me is pure insanity and lust. As the sound dances in the air around us, I admit, “I bet you can.”
Then he’s up, not even glancing back as he moves casually down the aisle to the exit.
I slump back into my seat with a sigh.
A big fucking cheesy grin fills my face as I look down at his phone number written in permanent marker on my arm.
>
***
Click HERE to get Boss Rules right now FREE on Kindle