The Sweet Shoppe: Cowboy Up

Home > Romance > The Sweet Shoppe: Cowboy Up > Page 7
The Sweet Shoppe: Cowboy Up Page 7

by Melissa Schroeder


  She frowned. “No.” If he hadn’t heard her, too bad.

  He growled and kissed her, lingering over her mouth in a way that had her sighing.

  “I love you, Nick.”

  His body shuddered, and she opened her eyes. “I love you, too, Linda.”

  Her heart leapt up and did a little dance. She smiled. “I knew.”

  Then he frowned. “Just how did you know?”

  “Nick, you don’t make love to a woman the way you did if all you want is a good time. How stupid do you think I am? And what was that crap about wanting me to go?”

  He had the grace to blush. “I thought you wanted to go back to Charles.”

  She sighed. “Stupid man. Why would I want him when I have my own live cowboy?”

  The smile he gave her shot straight to her heart. “Indeed. Now, Ms. Wheeler, I’m hoping you aren’t going to expect me to live in sin.”

  She sighed as he nibbled on her earlobe. “Just make sure you bring some fudge on the honeymoon, Nicodemus, and you have a deal.”

  Melissa Schroeder

  Born to an Air Force family at an Army hospital, Melissa has always been a little screwy. She was further warped by her years of watching Monty Python movies and her strange family.

  From the time she read To Kill a Mockingbird in the seventh grade, she dreamed of being a writer. After years of struggling, trying to write short stories filled with angst, she finally listened to her college writing instructor, and allowed her natural comedic voice to shine through. She counts Jayne Ann Krentz, Jenny Crusie, Stephanie Laurens, Julia Quinn, and Lori Foster as influences in her writing.

  She is a military wife and mother to two military brats and an adopted dog daughter, and lives wherever the military sticks them. Which, she is sure, will involve heat and bugs only seen on the Animal Discovery Channel. In her spare time, she reads, cooks, reads, travels, reads some more, and dreams of living somewhere the bugs die in the winter.

  She LOVES hearing from her readers. Visit Melissa on the Internet at http://www.authormelissaschroeder.com.

  * * * * *

  Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of

  Taming Kate

  by Sedonia Guillone

  Available Now from Loose Id

  Taming Kate

  Kate looked down just as a pair of heavy work boots came to a halt in front of the swinging doors of the dressing room. Her gaze traveled upwards, meeting his. He was staring at her over the doors. Terror and anger at feeling so naked and vulnerable pulsed through her. She especially hated the way her nipples tightened against her brassiere. She hated the way she wanted him to come into the little booth with her.

  She stared back, astonished as the anger drained from the darkening green hue of his eyes. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze roamed over her negligee-clad body. If his eyes had been hands, he would have been running his fingertips over her skin, reaching for every intimate spot.

  “My God,” he whispered. A million heartbeats seemed to pass as he gazed at her and she stared back, half entranced, half-terrified.

  She pressed her back against the wall. “What are you going to do to me?” Her legs trembled and she struggled to keep her balance, unable to tell whether he was going to tan her hide or come in there and ...

  The sound of her voice seemed to jar him out of his hypnosis. He grabbed hold of the doors and swung them open, his brawny physique filling the doorway. His unshaven jaw flexed with tension. His dark blond hair was tousled. “That was a pretty good bit of engineering there, Kate.”

  Her anger at feeling vulnerable took over, and she glared at him; damned if she would let him see her fear. Or her desire. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  He waved his hand toward her scantily clothed body. “This lacy get-up. You figured by the time I came to confront you, you'd turn on the sexy act to control me, right? Flash the goods and I won't take you to task for the paint job on my truck?”

  Kate jammed her fists on her hips, forgetting that her pink nipples were visible through the black lace of both bra and negligee. “I did not engineer anything. I was simply trying on something I wanted to buy. I have no interest in controlling you or anyone. I want to be left alone. I figured you would be halfway home by now.”

  Peter stared at her a moment before a look of understanding lit his chiseled features. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall. Even in his relaxed stance, there was barely room to move. “I see.” He leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress on her face. The tight quarters did nothing to lower the simmering in her loins that continued in spite of her tension. “You were fixing to get rid of me, weren't you? Testing me to see if I'd prove you right?”

  Kate blinked, trying to push away the weakening effect he was having on her. She was probably in a heap of trouble with him, yet instead of worrying about that, she was getting aroused. She had never met anyone who made her feel that way. Until now. “Of course I was. What did you think? Neither you nor my father will listen to me.”

  Peter looked down and sighed. When he looked back up, he trapped her gaze with his. His face was so close, Kate could see the gold flecks in his irises.

  “Well, this does change things a bit, Kate. If you're really that dead set against doing this.” He rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger, a pensive look in his eyes. “Hmm.” He stopped and looked at her. “Are you going to tell him? Or am I?”

  Kate sagged against the wall, narrowing her eyes at him. “Damn you.”

  Suddenly she found herself caged close between his chest and the wall, his palms pressed to the wall on either side of her head. “No, Kate. You know what? Damn you . Your father cares about you, so much so that he's had to call on a horse whisperer because he's run out of options. As for me, I've got an eleven-year-old nephew who's developmentally disabled because his father abandoned him when he was five. I've got a ranch to run and a horse that's recovering from a trailer accident. And now I've got to get my truck to the body shop so it doesn't continue to look like the wall of a subway station. You think I'm on holiday here?”

  He bent his face to hers, so close that their noses almost touched. The insight into his personal life worsened her guilt. She wished suddenly she could go back and handle the situation differently. She wished he would kiss her instead of reaming her a new asshole. She wondered if he felt that way too, pressed up close to her when she was wearing nothing but a bit of lace and silk.

  She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “I think you're wasting your time. And of course I'll pay for the damages.”

  “Damn right you're going to pay for the damages,” he shot back. “But it's not that easy, Kate. Your father begged me to work with you as much as he begged you to let me work with you.” He paused and heaved a deep sigh. When he looked at her again, his lids were heavier over his eyes, which had darkened and grown dusky. He shook his head. “Damn shame that I have to teach you a lesson now. I'd much rather be kissing you.”

  Kate caught her breath, not only from surprise but also from the reality that he felt what sizzled between them. The small space had grown feverishly warm from their bodies, and Peter pressed his more snugly against hers. Her breasts crushed against his rock-hard chest, and she weakened further, sagging against the wall, fighting the urge to part her legs and let her lips fall open for a kiss.

  A soft groan escaped Peter's throat and he squeezed his eyes shut. From the look of it, he was fighting for control. He dipped his head forward, his lips close to her ear. “I'm going to teach you not to destroy another person's property, Miss Rossi. After all, I didn't do anything to you to deserve that. This is for your own good.”

  Kate's arousal dissipated and her lip trembled. “So ... so ... how are you going to --”

  “I'm going to put you over my knee.”

  Her heart lurched. He couldn't be serious! “The hell you are,” she spat, her remorse over his truck forgotten in her shock and fear-induced anger.

  He stepped further
into the room, filling the small space. His hard, muscular body pressed against hers. His masculine scent, primal and musky, filled her nostrils, weakening her. Before she knew what was happening, iron-strong hands gripped her and dragged her out of the dressing room.

  “Let ... go ... of me, you bastard!” Kate twisted and struggled as the clothing racks and shelves passed her view. He was heading to the front of the store, to the counter where her stool sat behind the register.

  Flailing her arms, her nails flexed, she clawed at his face, raking a trail down his cheek.

  “Ow! Damn you, Kate!”

  “Let me go! Let ... me ... go!”

  “Not until you get what's coming to you.”

  “I'll sue you!” She writhed in vain. Peter's arms held her in a viselike grip.

  “You're the one who damaged my truck.”

  “My father will, then.”

  “Your father'll thank me.”

  “Someone will see us from outside! You'll be in trouble then!”

  He dropped onto the seat, bringing Kate with him. If they can see through a shade, maybe.”

  In spite of her thrashing, she was no match for him, and he maneuvered her until she was across his knees, the flimsy negligee hanging around her head.

  One arm held her firmly in place. Then whap! A hand came down firmly on her left butt cheek, delivering a stinging slap.

  “Ow!” Kate cried out and struggled, but Peter just held her more firmly.

  He delivered a second slap.

  The blood rushed to Kate's face. A pulsing sprang to life in the cleft between her thighs. Damn it! It's not supposed to feel good! She struggled less fiercely. Her hands hung like a rag doll's. Her breasts were crushed against Peter's muscular thighs. Suddenly the entire energy between them shifted, and she couldn't remember whether he was punishing her or pleasuring her.

  The third slap brought a pleasant sting that shimmied through her, into her pussy and thighs. Kate felt her resistance slipping. Her head lolled against his leg.

  He slapped her a fourth time, bringing a rush of sexual wetness through her slit. She moaned softly.

  She waited for a fifth slap. She glanced up, seeing Peter's hand frozen in mid-air. The sound of his ragged breathing filled the air around them. He released her, causing her to roll off his lap to a heap on the floor.

  The negligee had come untied in their struggle and lay open. Kate braced her hands on the floor, staring up at Peter. Her nipples were erect in her black lacy bra. She, too, breathed raggedly, watching him for what he would do next.

  * * * * *

  What people are saying about

  Taming Kate

  Author Sedonia Guillone writes an arousing tale of love and passion with Taming Kate.

  -- Sinclair Reid, Romance Reviews Today

  Sedonia Guillone’s Taming Kate is a new take on a classic love story. This is no remake; the story is crisp and enchanting with unforgettable characters that will touch your heart.

  -- Tewanda, Fallen Angel Reviews

 

 

 


‹ Prev