by Vivian Arend
Beth poked him in the chest and he laughed.
The clerk cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I need to make sure you approve this before I tint the paint.”
“My dad said that was the best one. He’s going to help me make things for my room too.” Lance glanced up at Daniel. “Right?”
Daniel’s heart leapt into his throat, and beside him Beth’s hands squeezed his arm painfully hard. Did Lance even realize what he’d said? The word had popped out so casually.
“Right.”
Daniel looked just about everywhere in the shop for the next five minutes as the paint shook in the machine, fighting to keep his emotional high from showing. Dancing in the aisles seemed like a marvellous idea, but it might freak a few people out.
Every bit of his world was finally coming together.
The fire crackled, the sound mixing with the other familiar noises of the big old house. Beth leaned on Daniel’s chest, cuddled between his thighs as they both stared into the flickering flames. The boys were camping for the night with a couple of their soon-to-be-official uncles, Jesse and Joel. She wondered if the twins realized how little sleep the boys were planning.
“I’m going to miss this house.” Beth stroked her hand along his leg, tracing circles with her fingertip. There were good memories tied up in the place. The kids laughing, schoolwork getting done. Everyday living that somehow felt that much richer now. Deeper.
Safer.
“You’ll be able to come and visit as often as you like since Jaxi and Blake are moving in with the girls.”
She laughed. “I still can’t believe Jaxi kept the twins a secret her entire pregnancy.”
“I can’t believe Blake made it through the delivery.”
They grinned at each other.
“It’s as if this house has a revolving door. How do you decide who gets what?” She’d always thought she’d hit the jackpot when she’d been offered the place.
Daniel rubbed her shoulders, running his fingers through the short hair of her neckline. “Whoever needs it the most, I guess. My dad took over the main ranch house since he was the oldest, and for a lot of years this place had one set or another of my uncles and aunts and cousins living here. Now they’re all scattered around the area. Some built houses on the sections of the land they own, some moved elsewhere because they decided to get into something other than ranching.”
“Like you.”
“Like me…and you.”
They were moving in together, they were getting married. She’d put off the one last thing they needed to do. She pivoted in his arms. Twisting was much easier than a year ago, the flexibility and range of motion in her limb nearly back to one hundred percent.
“Daniel, I want to…” His sexy smile distracted her for long enough he leaned in and kissed her.
Kissed her thoroughly, taking her mouth and lips by storm and turning the gentle caress into something on the hot and needy side. She dragged back with reluctance. “Whoa, cowboy, I want to do that too, but first we need to talk about something else.”
He stoked her cheek and rearranged her in his lap so she could lean back on his legs. “We’ve gotten good at talking, as well as the sexin’. What’s on your mind?”
She took a big breath. “What do you think about making the wedding a joint celebration?”
Confusion painted his face. “Who else you know that wants to get married?”
She shook her head. “No, I meant…if you’d like…if you think you’re ready…”
“Spit it out already woman, I’m dying here.”
“Do you want to adopt the boys?”
Pure, unadulterated joy leapt into his eyes. “You mean it?”
It was exactly the response she’d hoped for. The kind of response she’d expected. With every action over the past months, Daniel had shown time and time again he wanted only the best for her, and the boys. “I think they’re all ready for the idea, and isn’t that kind of what you’re getting? A wife and kids? Let’s make it official.”
Daniel dropped his head back, but not before she spotted the tears in his eyes.
“I love them too, you know. Kinda crept up and swallowed me whole, even when I was trying to not hope for anything.” He clasped her chin in his hand, his thumb reaching to brush her bottom lip in a tender caress. “Falling in love with you has changed my entire life. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come dancing into my world.”
“Stumbling in, more like it.”
“I caught you.”
She kissed his thumb as it passed by. “You did, and you held on until my world stopped shaking. Until I was able to stand alone.”
“But you’re not alone, Miss Beth, you got me. Forever and ever.”
She drew him to the carpet, and they made love. Slow and sweet, everything she had wanted for years and years, and it was because they were friends and lovers.
They were everything important. They were family.
About the Author
Vivian Arend has hiked, biked, skied and paddled her way around most of North America and parts of Europe. Throughout all the wandering in the wilderness, stories have been planted and they are bursting out in vivid colour. Paranormal, twisted fairytales, red-hot contemporaries—the genres are all over.
Between times of living with no running water, she home schools her teenaged children and tries to keep up with her husband—the instigator of most of the wilderness adventures.
She loves to hear from readers: [email protected]. You can also drop by www.vivianarend.com for more information on what is coming next.
Look for these titles by Vivian Arend
Now Available:
Granite Lake Wolves
Wolf Signs
Wolf Flight
Wolf Games
Wolf Tracks
Forces of Nature
Tidal Wave
Whirlpool
Turner Twins
Turn It On
Turn It Up
Pacific Passion
Stormchild
Stormy Seduction
Silent Storm
Xtreme Adventures
Falling, Freestyle
Rising, Freestyle
Paradise Found
Black Gold
Rocky Mountain Heat
Coming Soon:
Rocky Mountain Desire
Wolf Line
Silver Mine
He’s the one who taught her to ride. Now all he wants is to ride her.
Rocky Mountain Heat
© 2011 Vivian Arend
Six Pack Ranch, Book 1
Blake Coleman is old enough to know that acting on impulse causes nothing but a heap of trouble. But when trouble’s a western-hat-wearing blonde with slim legs that go on forever, what’s a man to do? Wanting the sweet girl next door is just wrong. The responsible thing to do is keep his hands off.
Jaxi has other plans for Blake’s hands, and his heart. She may have once considered him a big brother, but that was a long time ago. She’s all grown up now and ready to convince him that she’s perfect for him. Except he can’t seem to see past the big “don’t touch” sign that’s apparently still hanging around her neck.
When Jaxi ends up living right under Blake's nose, the undeniable heat between them slides off simmer and leaps up to barn-burning levels. However, a few of the younger six-pack Colemans have decided Jaxi’s brand of trouble is worth risking a few busted bones.
That is, if Blake’s finally ready to let go the reins and fight for what he wants…
Warning: Sexy cowboys seducing and being seduced in trucks, pool halls and barns. Droolworthy country charm, a little double-teaming, a few secrets and a whole lot of brothers to look forward to. Anyone wanna go for a ride?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Rocky Mountain Heat:
Blake dragged a breath of air into his lungs in an attempt to cool his burning body. This wasn’t right. She was a guest in their home, and yet here he was, acting lik
e a hound dog. He should be ashamed of himself.
He grabbed his travel kit from under the bed and marched down the hall toward the large shower room in the annex. He, Matt and Daniel had promised to use the larger bathroom and let Jaxi have the privacy of the other for herself.
The sound of running water met his ears and Blake stepped into the dimly lit room, wondering why his brothers had turned on only half the lights. Splashing noises echoed. Leaving his kit on the sink counter, he rounded the corner to the showers.
And froze.
The three showerheads in the open room were separated by nothing but space. Steam filtered the dim lighting into a moonshine glow.
All he saw was wet, naked skin. Jaxi’s skin. Every inch of her bare to his gaze as water poured from the middle shower, streaming in waves over her body. She faced away from him, head thrown back as she shifted to allow the water to slip over her face and down her chest. Blake, his body hot and needy, watched in a daze as the shampoo rinsed from her hair and undulated down her back, tiny bubbles racing over the curve of her waist. His gaze followed the bubbles along the gentle swell of her hips and the full curves of her ass. Her skin was pale pink from the heat of the water, faint tan lines showing on her thighs and arms.
His mouth went completely dry. Retreat. It had to happen—he had to turn and leave before she spotted him. Yet, no matter how loud his brain screamed at him, his feet remained glued in place as she slid the soap over her body. As she lifted her hands to brush her hair back from where it clung to her shoulders in white ribbons.
Blake’s cock tented his boxers as Jaxi rotated under the showerhead, turning the front of her body to his sight. Her nipples were soft. Tender, juicy pink berries crowning full, taut curves. The perfect size to fill his hands and still allow him to take her into his mouth. Water slid in rivulets over her belly and through the pale blonde curls visible at the junction of the long legs he’d fantasized about so many times. Jaxi’s eyes were closed, and she swayed as she washed, her hands slipping over her body in a way that made Blake heat to near boiling just from watching her. She hummed, quiet and low, her hips moving to the faint tune.
Guilt shot through him. He had no right to watch her, no right to invade her privacy and treat her like anything but the beautiful, caring person he knew her to be. She wasn’t his to admire.
God help him, he wanted her to be.
He swallowed hard and tried to peel his gaze away. Tried to not watch as her hands covered her breasts, then slicked over her belly in slow circles. Tried to glance away as she slipped her fingers gently through the curls covering her pussy, over her ass, washing every inch of her luscious body clean.
Blake watched, motionless and noiseless for so long he felt like a statue, every bit of his body gone as hard and rigid as his aching shaft. Indecision held him, immobilized him. The rush of blood through his veins drowned out the part of his common sense saying he needed to leave. The pounding faded everything logical and rational away in him and stripped him bare to need and desire.
His eyes needed him to stay here, to fill his brain with the vision of her glowing skin, her seductive movements. His hands needed to touch her, run over her curves in imitation of the water caressing in endless sweeps. His mouth needed to taste—not only her lips, but her breasts and the spot on her back where the skin dimpled above her ass.
He desired her. Every fiber of his being wanted to show her how much, but his conscience kept kicking his feet from under him before he could cross the room.
This was Jaxi.
He wished he had never walked down the hallway.
Jaxi opened her eyes, her gaze unfocused for a second before she noticed him standing in the steamy room like some ghostly Peeping Tom. Her quick intake of breath showed clearly enough she didn’t expect anyone, hadn’t realized she’d been putting on a show.
Now was a perfect time for him to drop his head and slip away. He couldn’t do it. She stared back at him through the mist hanging in the air, her eyes as big as silver dollars. She bit her bottom lip, and he fought a mental battle to leave, fought to stay quiet.
Then he noticed her nipples change. Tightening even as he looked at her. Electric pulses shot through him, and his hands itched to touch her, to lift the weight of her breasts and lap at those gems that had grown erect beneath his gaze.
Jaxi turned off the water and stepped slowly toward him, head held high. She sauntered up, slippery and wet, naked as a jaybird. Her skin glowed with heat as she stopped inches away, staring unendingly with those mesmerizing grey eyes. She reached out, her naked skin brushing his shoulder. She drew back, her arm clasping a towel she’d grasped from the hook beside his head.
He thought she’d wrap herself up quick. Instead she rotated her fingers and let the towel hang as she held the fluffy fabric to him. He glanced down, saw the way her hand trembled even as she put on a bold face and kept her body motionless under his heated gaze. He reached for her, his hand moving of its own accord before his brain fully engaged.
What brain? All the blood he needed for thinking had pooled in his groin.
This was the second time she’d taken him by surprise, and he couldn’t make the same mistake. He’d been haunted since the first incident.
He couldn’t let anything happen. It wasn’t right for them to be together.
Blake withdrew his hand.
And fled.
She wants it. He’s got it. And the chase is on…
Chasin’ Eight
© 2011 Lorelei James
Rough Riders, Book 11
Bull rider Chase McKay has finally landed in a pile too big to charm his way out of. Caught with his pants down, he finds himself bucked right off the PBR tour until he can get his act together.
Hollywood actress Ava Cooper became the tabloids’ favorite target when her longtime boyfriend was outed as gay. Now she wants a place to lay low and a chance to prove to herself that she can satisfy a red-blooded man between the sheets. The sexy, rugged cowboy she finds holed up in her Wyoming hideaway seems like the answer to her every fantasy.
But Chase has sworn off women. Forever. Or at least a month. Whichever comes first.
When they take to the road to get Chase more hands-on bull riding experience, they have every intention of keeping their hands off each other. But the two headstrong stars quickly end up riding a hot and heady rodeo circuit all their own—until the press gets wind of their affair. When the dust clears and the lights of the paparazzi fade, are they ready to give up chasing the dream for a chance of finding forever?
Warning: Strap in, another hot McKay is about to bust out of the gate and this bull rider knows a thing or two about riding hard...
Enjoy the following excerpt for Chasin’ Eight:
When Ava saw the half-naked cowboy sprawled on the couch, snoring softly, she knew last night hadn’t been a dream.
She rested her shoulder against the partition separating the hallway from the living room and looked her fill.
The man, quite simply, was stunning. And living in California, surrounded by the best-looking men in the world, she knew stunning. Sculpted cheekbones that emphasized the leanness of his cheeks. A broad, masculine jaw. Full, ripe lips. His nose was slightly crooked, but it worked centered among the rest of his perfect features. His dark eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, even as he slept. His hair, a striking shade of coal black, held a hint of curl.
Her gaze meandered south, over the flare of his thick neck, to his bare chest, packed with muscles. More dark hair highlighted his defined pectorals, trailing down to bisect his ripped abs. The damn blanket hid his lower half from his hip to his knee, but one bare calf and foot poked out.
Probably creepy to gawk at him when he was unaware, but he’d seen her naked body last night, so tit for tat.
He’d thrown his left arm above his head, which drew her eye to his—holy crap—mammoth biceps and meaty forearm. Her gaze dropped to his crotch. Chances were high he had a little dick. Beautiful me
n like him always had one physical flaw, and since she couldn’t see any others…
Wait.
Her eyes narrowed and swept down the length of his body. His feet didn’t reach the end of the couch. Which made him short. At least three inches shorter than her. Not that it made a damn bit of difference in her mind. They’d still be eye to eye when they were having sex missionary style. And it wouldn’t matter at all when she was on top.
Stop gawking before he catches you, perv. You’re acting like you haven’t seen a half-naked man in years, not months.
She started a pot of coffee, lamenting the fact there weren’t any Starbucks within two hundred miles, and turned on her laptop, shooting a glance at the still-sleeping cowboy. Last night he’d claimed to be some kind of…rodeo riding guy.
Hello, Google search.
Ava was shocked by all the links that popped up when she typed in Chase McKay. This guy was a big deal in the Professional Bull Riders world. He had a website. He had a fan page on Facebook. She scrolled down. Hey. Chase McKay had more “Likes” than she did. But she noticed no new posts since the announcement he planned to take time off to heal a recurring injury.
He didn’t look injured.
She continued to cyber stalk him, fascinated by a world she knew nothing about. She found pictures of Chase McKay with mayors and governors. Other bull riders. Country singers. Stock contractors. PBR officials and sponsors. Close-up stills of his best rides and his worst wrecks.
But most of the pictures were of the hot cowboy with women. Lots of women—young, old, fat, skinny. Rodeo queens and other rhinestone-wearing women who weren’t queens but sure looked the part. The other odd thing? Not a single woman was taller than him.
Ava followed a link that directed her to articles about Chase. Happy as she was to hit pay dirt, the consensus in the last year of rodeo sports experts? Chase McKay was washed up. His riding percentage—whatever that meant—was rock bottom. Rumors abounded about the trail of broken hearts he left across the country. A couple of snarky reporters dubbed him “Chase’n Tail McKay” since his personal life overshadowed his professional career.