Shoulda Been A Cowboy: Rough Riders, Book 7

by Lorelei James

He went to his room, dropped his jeans and crawled into bed in his boxer briefs. Outside the open bedroom window crickets chirped. Off in the distance a motorcycle revved up and drove away. Sounds familiar to Milcott lulled his mind. His eyes grew heavy and closed.

  And then he heard a soft murmur. His eyes snapped open, frozen wide as he focused his hearing. He heard it again. Next door. Meg’s window had to be open. He sat up and tossed off the covers. Going to the window, he listened intently.

  He’d heard her vibrator on other nights—and a few mornings. He loved knowing her sex drive demanded release. He didn’t hear the usual rattle and hum, but moans and sighs.

  “Cory.”

  She couldn’t know he listened.

  “I need you.” She moaned long and low.

  Damn, should he go to her? He paused with indecision.

  “Please.”

  If she were sleeping, she obviously dreamt of him and if she were awake, could she know he stood at the open window? Did she want him to come to her bed? An hour ago, she’d made it clear that although she’d enjoyed the kiss, wanted the kiss, all they would have is friendship.

  Dashing from the bedroom, he stopped in the kitchen to grab her spare house key and slipped out the front door. He stood at her door with the key in his trembling hand. After a moment, he inserted the key. Click. The handle turned.

  He didn’t worry about walking around his side of the duplex in the dark. However, Meg lived in an obstacle course. Too much crap and not enough room. Laundry strewn about wasn’t really a problem, but he couldn’t be sure there wouldn’t be a half-full can of Diet Pepsi sitting on the floor.

  Waiting until his vision adjusted to the darkness, he then moved toward the bedroom. If she slept, he’d simply slip out, return to his bed and get some sleep.

  Unsure of what to expect, he paused at the threshold of her room. Meg lay in the center of the bed. The comforter lay on the floor and silk sheets twisted around her legs. One arm bent over the top of her head, and her other hand rested on her bare midriff. She wore a tiny wisp of fabric for panties and nothing else. Beautiful, round breasts rose and fell with each breath she drew. Either the cool air from the open window or the intimacies playing out in her dream puckered her luscious, red nipples.

  Cory’s chest tightened. Blood pumped into his shaft. Fierce desire to climb into bed with her overpowered him, but he remained rooted where he stood. In the throes of an erotic dream, she had no knowledge that he watched her.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned again. She bent her knees and spread her smooth, tapered thighs. He ached to be between those legs. His gut tightened when her fingers drifted lower on her flat tummy and disappeared into her panties. Her head thrashed once on the pillow.

  “Cory.”

  He took a step closer to the bed to ensure she was indeed asleep and not calling for him to join her.

  The scent of her desire drifted on the air. His nostrils flared, taking in more of the intoxicating aroma. His chest expanded as he filled his lungs.

  “Cory?”

  Her voice, no longer muddled with sleep, questioned his presence next to her bed.

  “I heard you calling for me.”

  She blinked several times and leaned up on her elbows. “So you used your key to come into my house…into my room?” She sat and clutched at the sheet to cover her nudity.

  He nodded. “I should’ve left when I discovered you were dreaming, but I couldn’t.” Her eyes focused on the clear evidence of how long he’d been there. His erection throbbed in his boxers and the thin fabric did little to hide his arousal.

  Her lips twitched into a smile. “Well, I’m fine, just horny.”

  “You called my name.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Because I was having sex with you.” She pulled the sheet a little higher. “It was a dream. I’m not responsible for the participants. Johnny Depp could have just as easily ravished me.”

  Cory sat on the edge to the bed. Warm, sweet scents of woman, uniquely Meg, fragranced the sheets.

  He leaned in.

  She didn’t flinch, but her breathing quickened.

  Threading his fingers into her hair, he pulled her into his kiss. Tentatively, he supped at her lips. Her tongue initiated. Parting his lips, he encouraged her to explore more of his mouth.

  “I want to stay,” he whispered into her mouth.

  Meg nipped at his lip then giggled. “That’s evident.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. His large hand cupped her delicate cheek.

  She moved his palm to her lips and kissed him in the center of his hand. “But a onetime experience isn’t worth jeopardizing our friendship.”

  “Actually, I think it might be.” He gave the sheet a gentle tug.

  She leaned back putting distance between them. “I’ve been sleeping with you for years, Cory. Go home so I can get back to you in my dreams.” She smiled. “Not that your ego needs stroking—”

  “No, not my ego.”

  Meg snorted. “Goodnight.”

  He stared at her sleepy-eyed beauty for a moment more, and then stood. “I’d say sweet dreams, but I’d rather you have raunchy, hot as hell, sex with me instead.”

  “Go home so that I can.”

  Cory navigated his way to the front door. Back in his own side of the duplex, he went straight to his room and crawled into bed.

  He stretched his arms, yawned and cradled his hands behind his head. A wide smile found his lips as he closed his eyes…and listened to Meg’s vibrator rattle through the walls.

  Nothing twists you up quite like love…

  Love Me Knots

  © 2009 Dee Tenorio

  When she interrupts what looks like a tryst in her fiancé’s office, former heiress Krista James has only one thought: “It’s over!” True, they both signed a marriage contract that didn’t include a love clause. But she’ll be damned if she gives the two-timer the satisfaction of knowing she gave up her heart along with her hand.

  How to say goodbye to a man who makes her forget her own name in bed, and all her principles everywhere else? Simple. Run.

  CPA-on-the-rise David Ellison thinks everything is perfect. Perfectly planned, perfectly ordered, perfectly moving forward. Until he arrives late—again—for a lunch date. Suddenly he has a broken engagement, a guilty receptionist and a missing fiancée.

  Tracking her down is easy. She’s traded their honeymoon tickets for a luxury holiday for one. Reasoning with her? Impossible. Especially since they always seem to end up in bed, in the shower, on the floor…everywhere but at an understanding.

  David didn’t follow his woman all the way to Tahiti to return home empty-handed. To get her back, he’s even prepared to empty his heart of all his secrets.

  Question is…is he prepared for hers?

  Warning Emotionally repressed, sexually gifted accountant on the loose in Tahiti, intent on seducing his lady back into his life and completely redefining the phrase “awesome lei”. Mai Tais and ice recommended to counter the extreme sexual heat.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Love Me Knots:

  “Our relationship is a disaster and you don’t even see it.”

  David resisted the urge to bring his hand to the bridge of his nose. “I admit, things have been a little intense lately—”

  “How much time have we spent together in the last month? When was the last time we talked? Really talked? About anything other than the wedding or how you’re canceling on the time we do have planned.”

  “I’m a CPA. This is tax season. That’s why we decided to get married in May. So I can take the time off for the honeymoon.”

  “No, I knew you’d be busy. I’ve been with you through tax season before. This is different. You’re avoiding me.”

  Not this again. “The business has more than doubled since last year, in no small part thanks to you. By definition, I’ll be busier. I’m not avoiding you.”

  “You keep saying that, but then you keep canceling at the last minute. Wh
at am I supposed to think?”

  “That this is the arrangement we agreed on.” Mutual goals, genuine friendship, exquisite physical compatibility. Krista had wanted a husband who would return her to the financial circles she’d been born to, he’d wanted a wife who could steer him through the social jungle he normally hadn’t a prayer of breaching or understanding. For the last year and a half, everything had gone smoothly. He’d played the brilliant numbers man on the rise, she’d done wonders to revolutionize his business with contact after contact. Not bad for a couple who’d met in the middle of an audit.

  “I didn’t agree to be forgotten.”

  “And I haven’t forgotten you.”

  The light in her eyes dimmed considerably, reminding him of the first time he’d met her. She’d been sitting in his office, shoulders slumped, her bottom lip nearly bruised from clamping her teeth on it. She always said that had been the lowest day of her life. Until he’d opened his office door. He’d never been able to bring himself to tell her the truth about that moment. That after that second, there was no possible way to think of anything except her.

  “No,” she whispered, turning away. “You can’t forget what you’ve never really seen. It’s time I realized you’re never going to see. That it’s up to me to do something for myself again.”

  David frowned. He saw her every chance he could. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I know.” She sighed, not the amused sigh he liked. Not the irritated sigh he’d been getting lately. This was something new. Tired. No, that wasn’t it. Resigned. Maybe somewhere in between? Either way, it was a shade of gray he didn’t recognize.

  “You know I’m lousy at this part. Is this argument finished or not?” He waited, watching her shoulders for some sign that she was relenting. The usual signal, a slow release of the air in her lungs and the tension seeping out of her, didn’t come. Her back to him, he saw her arm move, brushing her hair off her cheeks with a quick flick, one in each direction. She huffed, her shoulders staying stiff and her spine growing somehow straighter. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d just armored herself with poise.

  “Yes, it’s finished.”

  Good. Her marriage jitters were this close to making him nervous. But this relationship of theirs was a good idea. He knew it. He’d looked at it from every possible angle and never found an error. They’d had specific financial and social needs the other could meet. Their personalities flowed together, apart from her occasional melodrama. She wasn’t usually so overemotional. Just lately, she’d been six kinds of irrational, but he could see past those difficulties because she had benefits no other woman offered.

  Primarily, she wasn’t put off by his bluntness and she was smart enough to challenge him when he least expected it. Important when one was planning the rest of one’s life. He’d never be bored with Krista. Never be lonely. Normally, she was an excellent counterpart and he congratulated himself often on convincing her to marry him.

  The sex had been a bonus he still couldn’t quite reason out. He’d expected it to be enjoyable—sex always was. Their personal chemistry, though, was explosive and the satisfaction had yet to decrease. It boded well for their future. A cherry on the top, when he was feeling whimsical, which really only happened with Krista.

  Yes. This plan was perfect. She was just nervous. In need of reassurance. He looked her up and down, almost sighing at the perfection of her figure. She had an hourglass shape that tempted him to write mathematical odes. The brilliant red of her jacket molded to her waist and hips, cupping the simple black pencil skirt that dropped down to just above her knees. And those legs. Her skin had a soft golden cast, her calves strong without being over-defined. Her whole body was that way. Smooth, sleek, soft but firm. He could touch her for hours, not that he’d ever wasted such time, but he could. It wouldn’t bother him in the slightest.

  Maybe that was what she needed. She didn’t ask much of him, David had to admit. She’d been wanting to talk more the last few weeks, something he hadn’t exactly been putting off, but he admittedly felt relieved whenever something more important came up. Politics, sure, they could discuss that. Business, definitely. She had an astute mind and grasped the better points of building client trust. She’d completely revolutionized how he handled not only employees and clients, but people in general. But he had the sinking feeling she wanted to talk about feelings.

  Her feelings.

  Or worse, his feelings.

  If there was one thing he knew about himself, it was that talking and feelings should never be something he attempted to handle at the same time. Words always came out wrong. Or they came out right, but said the wrong thing. Occasionally, people were simply so set on their own translation of his words that he couldn’t get them untangled. That was the beauty of Krista. She accepted what he said at face value and never got flustered about it. If she needed clarification, she asked for it, and all stayed right in the world. Usually…

  David frowned at her back. Something was definitely wrong with the world right now. The question was, did he have the first clue how to fix it?

  He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his head to the side of her face. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. She wasn’t wearing the perfume he’d given her, the magnolia scent he’d found while at a convention last summer. She always wore it. He pulled her closer, noticing that her cheek was cold where it touched his face. Almost icy cold.

  “What’s wrong, Krista? Tell me what’s going on.” Even if she wanted to talk about feelings. He could take anything but this confusion. Krista was the one person in the world who’d never confused him.

  A shudder ran through her whole body. For a frightening second, he thought she might burst into tears, but all she did was push out a breath and spin in his hold. Before he knew it, she was pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Desperate. Moist.

  Her hands scrabbled at his coat, opening it and shoving it off his shoulders. She yanked on the tie, almost choking him before she got it right, and whipped it through his folded collar with a loud, hot wisp.

  “Kris—”

  She grabbed his face and kissed him again, nipping at his lips and making that mewling whimper of need that did the strangest things to his chest. Made it tighten and ache to give her anything she needed. Worked like a charm this time, too, because he gave up trying to figure out what was going on. She wanted him. Needed him, just like he’d thought. He’d find out what was wrong after.

  David reached for her top, the little satin tie on one hip giving way instantly. The crossover style of the top meant he had to do the same thing on the inner flap before he could see the black satin camisole beneath. She’d been wearing these instead of a bra lately. Pretty, shiny things that outlined hard nipples and slid over her skin like water. He liked them. But right now the camisole was in the way.

  He bumped into the wall, smacking the back of his head on the lintel before he realized he’d been moving. She had her hands on his bare chest—when did she get the buttons undone?—and was pushing him toward her bedroom.

  This was new. She was never the aggressor in their sexual relationship. She liked slow seduction. Gentle approaches that generally led to complete, wild possession. Clearly, she wanted more this time, but it posed a problem when she wouldn’t stop pushing as he pulled on the sleeves. If she wanted things fast and rough, how was he to get her own shirt out of the way if she wouldn’t put her arms down to get it off?

  Easiest path between two points, he decided, reaching out to pick her up. She helped a lot, all but leaping into his hold so they could stagger toward the king-sized mattress. He fell backward onto her cushiony duvet, letting her sprawl over him. Not that she stayed that way long. She sprang back, bouncing off him and the bed to shimmy out of her skirt.

  “Hurry, David.”

  Her skirt dropped to the ground, followed quickly by the camisole she peeled over her head as if it were on fire. The simple black panties cli
nging to her hips came off and in a heartbeat were whipped away to places unknown. He was still working at the button on his cuffs, staring wide-eyed at the woman who’d somehow become an Amazon when he wasn’t looking. She stood proudly, her high, full breasts capturing his attention completely, the dusky rose tips looking darker and fuller in the streaming radiance from the skylight above. Her skin, skin he’d memorized with his eyes, fingers and mouth, was flushed with a soft pink color. Not with embarrassment, but excitement.

  No, need.

  He could still see it, something shadowy in her deep green eyes. Secrets. For a second, about as long as his mind was capable of maintaining thought, he wondered if he was making a mistake. But then Krista reached for the belt to his slacks and the thought obliterated. Cool hands undid the belt and the fly and before the second button of his cuff popped right off, she had her fingers around his erection.

  He forgot about the shirt entirely when she dipped her head and took him into her mouth.

  …all signs point North for Not-So-Saint Nick

  Mistress Christmas

  © 2008 Lorelei James

  A Wild West Boys Story

  In a rare moment of recklessness, mild-mannered accountant Holly North lets her best friend guilt her into filling in as Mistress Christmas at Sugar Plums, a Christmas-themed strip club. Fearing she’ll be recognized—or worse, considered a fraud—she dons a velvet mask along with the Mrs. Claus-meets-dominatrix costume. She’s shocked at how deliciously wicked anonymity feels.

  Detective Nick West is determined to discover how his friend was supposedly robbed after a lap dance at Sugar Plums. His visions of revenge vanish faster than a flying sleigh upon his first peek at Mistress Christmas—a leggy brunette with smoky eyes and a lush mouth begging for hours beneath the mistletoe.

  Their attraction flares hotter than a fireplace on a cold winter evening, and Nick is only too happy to oblige when Holly blurts out her one Christmas wish…

  For a naughty secret Santa to sweep her away for a night of anonymous sexual pleasure.

  Warning: This erotic comedy contains naughty holiday innuendo, creative use of garland, sexy love scenes hot as spiced cider, a heroine as sweet as sugared plums, and a wildly romantic hero with a great big…candy cane.