by Cat Johnson
“I’ll listen, and I’ll be happy to hear whatever you are willing to tell me, but there’s nothing to forgive. You’re here and that’s good enough for me.”
When she saw what he was holding, her expression turned hopeful and amazed at the same time. “You’re carrying it with you?”
“Yeah, I am.” More than just carrying it. He’d ridden with it on him. She had no idea the significance of that.
“How can you be so perfect?”
Chase laughed. “My family would disagree with you.”
“Then I’ll have to fight them on this. Chase Reese, you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
He smiled and, staring into the face he’d never been able to get out of his mind, brushed a hair from her cheek. “Ditto.”
She reached up and grabbed his hand, holding it to her face like she was afraid to let him go.
The glint of gold on her finger caught his eye. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “You’re still wearing yours.”
“I never took it off.” Her eyes glistened as she stared up at him.
Chase laced his fingers through hers. He wasn’t one to give orders, especially to a lady, but he’d waited too long for her already. “We’re gonna go someplace private, you’re gonna tell me what you have to, then we’re gonna talk about you and me and how we’re gonna make this work. Got it?”
She nodded. “Got it.”
He lowered his head. “I’m not letting you get away from me again.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“No.” She smiled and then laughed.
Chase narrowed his eyes playfully. “You laughing at me, woman?”
“No, sir. I just think I like this new forceful side of you.”
“Good. Now come on. That was my last ride until tomorrow. We can disappear and no one will notice.”
“Chase?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think after we talk we can take a ride in the truck?”
He smiled, hoping she had in mind what he did, which was confirmed when she added. “You know, I am in a dress.”
“So I see. It’d be a shame to waste it.”
“Exactly.”
He lowered his head and tasted what he’d been missing, what he’d been dreaming about. Behind her back, he slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of his right hand. There it would stay for the time being anyway, because with this woman in his arms and back in his life, his left hand ring finger was feeling awfully naked.
About the Author
As an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance in genres including military, cowboy, ménage and paranormal, Cat Johnson uses her computer so much she wore the letters off the keyboard within a year. She is known for her creative marketing and research practices. Consequently, Cat owns an entire collection of camouflage shoes for book signings and a fair number of her consultants wear combat or cowboy boots for a living. In her real life, she’s been a marketing manager, professional harpist, bartender, tour guide, radio show host, Junior League president, sponsor of a bull riding rodeo cowboy, wife and avid animal lover.
To learn more about Cat, please visit www.catjohnson.net. Send an email to Cat at [email protected], friend her on Myspace at www.myspace.com/authorcatjohnson or follow her on Twitter at www.twitter.com/cat_johnson.
Look for these titles from Cat Johnson
Now Available:
Red, Hot & Blue
Trey
Jack
Jimmy
Rough Stock
Studs in Spurs
Unridden
Bucked
Ride
Coming Soon:
Red, Hot & Blue
Jared
The best way to heal a broken heart is to jump right back on the horse. So to speak…
Jack
© 2010 Cat Johnson
Red, Hot & Blue, Book 2
After watching the girl he’s crushed on for years fall for his best friend, the last thing special operative Jack Gordon wants is a vacation. If cooling his heels doesn’t drive him crazy, doing it under his family’s scrutiny will.
But once he’s back home things get more than a little interesting. The new farm hand is cute, sexy—and his instincts tell him she’s got something to hide. Luckily, he’s got the skills and the backup to find out what.
Gordon Equine is the perfect place for Niccolina Campolini. The Gordons pay in room, board and cash. And they don’t ask questions. Perfect for a girl on the run…until Jack shows up. Sexy as hell and far too inquisitive, Jack strikes sparks and suspicions that put both her body and her heart in danger.
Jack knows better than to trust a woman with as many shadows as Nicki, but the heat waves of their attraction are messing with his focus. And when her secrets catch up with her, he’s not sure if he’s protecting her from something, or protecting his family from her…
This book has been previously published and has been revised from its original release.
Warning: This book contains extremely stupid gangsters bearing guns, a bored team of special operatives looking for some action, and one Southern gentleman guaranteed to charm your panties off.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Jack:
Nicki leaned against the fence, watching the newborn in the corral with his mother. She sighed and tried to pinpoint what she was feeling. Contentment, she decided. She finally felt semi-safe for the first time in a month of being on the run. Although she feared she would never be truly safe again. Not as long as the man she was hiding from still lived and breathed. At least she could allow herself to relax just a little bit here at the farm.
She was about as far from New York as she could get. Who would think to look for her buried away here in the Deep South on a small horse-breeding farm? Certainly not the thick-necked imbecile she’d run from. As long as the Gordon family accepted her without question, and continued to pay her in cash and give her a place to live, she was set. She could drop off the radar indefinitely.
The colt walked slowly up to the fence and nuzzled her hand. She ran her hand over him. “You are such a sweetie.”
“Why thank you, darlin’.”
The deep voice caused Nicki to startle. She let out a squeak of fear, spooking the colt. He took off running for his mother.
She turned to look at the stranger, heart pounding until she saw his face. He was so much like the other two Gordon brothers, right down to the way he stood and talked, she knew who he was immediately. Relieved and feeling a little silly for thinking her enemies could find her all the way out here, she smiled in greeting. “You must be Jack.”
He raised a brow. “I must be. You know me, but who might you be, darlin’?”
Mmm, mmm. How she loved the way southern men sounded. So much nicer than the horrid accents she’d grown up around in New York. The accents from the five boroughs of New York City and Long Island made her cringe. But a southern man could practically make a girl’s panties fall right off just by talking to her.
She nearly shook herself to regain her senses. This was no time to be thinking about romance, or sex, or whatever this feeling was that Jack caused. She was in hiding. Besides that, this particular Gordon man was only here temporarily from what she’d heard. Good thing too. He was much too yummy and tempting to have around for very long. She sure did like the way he called her darlin’ though.
“I’m Nicki.” She offered him her hand.
His handshake was warm and slow. But then, everything in the south seemed warm and slow. She imagined what else might be warm and slow with him…
“Nicki…?” He apparently wanted her to elaborate.
“Camp. Nicki Camp.” The guilt of the lie hit her hard. Did it show as obviously on her face as it felt on her tongue? If it did sound like a lie to him, the expression on Jack’s face didn’t show it.
He was still holding her hand in his big, strong one when he crooned, “Nice to mee
t you, Nicki Camp.”
Slightly shaky, she pulled her hand back and then glanced up at his face again. His hair was a bit more golden brown than his brothers’, and his hazel eyes had flecks of green and gold in them. Stop it, Niccolina. She was in no position to be checking this guy out. No matter how cute and charming he was.
“So what brings you here to Pigeon Hollow, Miss Nicki Camp? You don’t sound like a local girl.”
Nicki considered her answer carefully. She didn’t think she had a New York accent. As a teenager, she’d worked damn hard to make sure of that. It had been important to her then because she’d wanted to sound more sophisticated. It was even more important now. It was a matter of life and death that no one knew where she was from. But Jack was right. She didn’t sound like a native southerner. She didn’t think she could pull that off no matter how many times she watched Gone with the Wind.
“Oh, you know. Just seeing the country.” Yeah, that didn’t sound too lame.
He took one step closer, and she resisted the urge to take a step back as he towered over her.
“Well, I sure am glad you decided to settle here for a bit.” He smiled as his eyes twinkled.
Another few minutes of this onslaught of charm and Nicki didn’t know what she’d do. Thank goodness, Jared chose that moment to interrupt them. Otherwise, she may have swooned like in all those old movies where southern men made the belle of the ball faint.
“Steer clear of my help before you scare her away.” Jared shot Jack a stern look, and then smiled and winked in her direction.
She decided to make a joke of her own and get the hell out of there before Jack wedged her any farther between him and the fence. “Not much scares me, except my boss finding me loafing around not doing my job. I better get back to it.”
When the going gets tough, the tough get busy. Real busy.
Breaking Brent
© 2010 Niki Green
Roped, Book 2
In Millbrook, Texas, there are cowboys. Then there are the Kiels, every girl’s idea of perfection in tight-fittin’ jeans. Peyton James is no different. Only she doesn’t want to admit it—because three years ago Brent Kiel ripped out her heart and handed it back in teeny little pieces.
In a twist of fate Peyton wound up engaged to Brent’s best friend. The engagement might be off now, but no one needs to know, right? It keeps the questions at bay…and the temptation called Brent Kiel out of reach. Until the night he shows up at her family’s bar.
The only reason Brent agrees to meet his brothers at Big Jack’s is that Peyton never darkens the door on a Friday night. Except tonight. Seeing her is a painful reminder of his mistake and what it cost him—and that no other woman’s lips or body will ever satisfy him like hers.
Nothing—not the past, not her legendary temper, not even the rock on her finger—will keep this cowboy from getting what he wants…
Warning: Seduction served by a brooding and standoffish cowboy who wants nothing more than his ladylove’s heart and soul—her body is just icing on the cake. Hot cowboy sex in a bar, in a barn, in a bed…just about anywhere.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Breaking Brent:
What was his brother doing?
Brent followed Peyton with his eyes the moment she took the hand his brother offered her, through her short conversation with Joss, up until the time she retrieved her cell phone from her purse. She didn’t look happy.
Watching her walk from her place under the old willow tree to the seclusion of the barn and not following her instantly was hard.
Why did she need the privacy the barn held? Was her fiancé calling to check on her? He doubted it. He knew Carter. Worrying and checking up was not one of the things he did.
He bided his time and waited for his patience to pay off. Dodging as many people as he could, he walked on quick steps to the barn. Not wanting to attract attention to his destination, he made the occasional stop to talk to folks here and there. Shaking hands, slapping backs and nodding every so often allowed him to slip into the barn without anyone being the wiser.
He didn’t know what compelled him to follow her. Maybe it was the look of concern and worry written across her face. Maybe it was out of pure nosiness on his part. It could be that he couldn’t not follow her. Whatever it was, it led him to the barn, searching the dim interior for her.
It didn’t take him long to find her.
She stood at the back of the barn, resting against the double doors that had been anchored open. Even through the darkness he could make out her figure. She was breathtaking in the shadowed hall.
She was great in any light, but Brent liked the moonlight the best.
Most of his visions of her over the years had her cast in moonlight. He had plenty of memories of her in the fading shadows the sun created and moonlight—he wouldn’t mind making another.
He struck the thought from his head, knowing that creating a memory with Peyton, a good one, was not on the agenda. He just wanted to check on her. She had looked upset. Or at least he thought she had. That was his reasoning for following her—to check on her. Nothing more.
Altering his stride, he moved toward her without any noise. There was a fraction of space between his chest and her back before she knew he was even there.
Spinning quickly, she turned and her wide eyes met his. He saw her breath hitch and then quicken. Was she frightened? Excited? Excited was good, but he figured mad as hell was a better gauge on her mood.
“What do you want?” She cast the words his way and then gave him her back once more. Brent stopped the smile from crossing his face. Yep, mad as hell was a pretty good description.
“You okay?” He saw her body tense as he spoke. He waited for her to reply and wasn’t surprised by what he got in return.
“What do you care?”
“I care.” His admission shocked him and the shock made his jaw set and his brow furrow. Brent wasn’t big on expressing his feelings—never had been. That was one of the problems they had always had between them. He couldn’t tell her how he felt and she needed to know.
“Yeah, right.” She turned on her heel and faced him. The added inches of her shoes made her and Brent almost the same height—almost. She was still a few good inches shorter than him, but the shoes made it so that she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him. He didn’t know if he liked that or not.
He could think of a million good reasons for her added height and the shoes she wore. All of them revolved around sex. Sex with her. Sex with her wearing those tall, strappy shoes and nothing else but his body.
“You know I have tried to be nice to you. I have tried to be friends. I have tried everything within my power to make it so that we could still be cordial to one another. But you and your stubborn far-too-oversized pride has prevented that. So tell me why, now, at this very minute, I should give a rat’s ass if you care if I’m upset or not? You didn’t care all those years ago. Why the hell do you care now?”
“Me and my stubborn pride?” Brent couldn’t believe it. They were picking up right where they’d left off. Fighting. They used to fight, every couple did, but those fights had usually ended in a much more desirable way—him on top of her, her on top of him, him behind her.
“Yeah, you and your stubborn pride. Funny, I never thought your pride could be bigger than your ego, but I guess I was wrong.”
“My ego?”
“Yes, your ego. Is there an echo in here? Did I stutter when I spoke?”
“Darlin’, I don’t think this conversation is on the path you want it to be. If I were you, I’d stop now before you get your tender feelings hurt.” He retreated just a step. He should have known better than to follow her. He should have stayed away. It would have been better for them both.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? My tender feelings?” With each step Brent took backwards, Peyton closed the distance. If she wanted a fight, he wasn’t in the mood to give her one.
“You know what I’m t
alking about. I hurt your feelings that night, that last night, and instead of waiting around until things cooled off, you ran as fast and as hard as you could in a different direction. That way just happened to be Carter’s.”
Brent could see her temper flaring. Her chest heaved, causing her breasts to do the same. Her nostrils flared as her breath became choppy and erratic. He wondered how long it would take her to retaliate. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I’m sorry I didn’t dig a hole and bury myself away from the world long enough for you decide that you wanted to play with me again. I waited for things to cool off and for you to realize what an ass you were being. Did you want me to wait forever? Was that what your pride needed, a little pick-me-up?” She advanced on him.
“You pushed me away,” she said as she planted her hands on his chest and pushed his body. It wasn’t a hard nudge, but he took a step back. “You pushed me out.” She shoved at his shoulders this time. “You shut me out.” She prodded again. “You shut me out of your life.” She pushed him again. “You shut me out of your mind.” She pushed and prodded him again and again. “And you shut me out of your heart.”
Brent had had enough. He jerked the door of the tack room open and backed her into the small dark room. It smelt of leather, hay and Peyton—sugary and sweet.
It was his turn to push. He pressed her against a wall and anchored her body there with his and gripped her wrists with one of his hands just in case she decided to sink her nails into any part of his body.
His lips were a breath away from hers when he said in a low, husky voice, “I might have shut you out that night, but I never shut you out for good. You did that the minute you traded me in for my best friend.” He felt her breath hitch beneath her chest.
The movement caused her breasts to rub against the material of his shirt and jacket. Even through the thick double layer of material, he felt her nipples harden and pucker. He felt the weight of her breasts resting heavily on his chest. He felt everything. The swell of them, their firmness, their heat and their state of arousal.