Turn Up the Heat

by Randi Alexander

  Mackenzie nodded, but her lip quivered. She’d almost lost this because of her prejudices. What a foolish woman. What a lucky woman. “Gina. You are a goddess.” She kissed her and slipped her hands to her breasts. “I want to worship you with my body.”

  Gina’s eyes slid shut as a shiver jangled through her. “I want that so badly,” her voice was a whisper. Her hands slid up under Mackenzie’s shirt and unhooked her bra. She found her nipples, teasing and plucking at them until they were aching and hard. Gina ripped at Mackenzie’s clothes, hauling them forcefully off her body. Mackenzie could only help unfasten and unzip before Gina’s manic tugs did damage to the cloth.

  Gina walked Mackenzie backward until she hit the barn wall. She pressed herself against her. “I’m loving you first, and it’s going to be wild. I have all this pent up emotion inside, and it’s making me unruly.”

  Mackenzie’s pussy creamed, overpowered by Gina’s fervor. She’d become ferocious, insatiable, and Mackenzie would enjoy every second of it.

  Gina grabbed her hips and rubbed their mounds together. She ran her hands up Mackenzie’s sides, over her armpits to her wrists, lifting them over her head. Gina said, “I don’t know what those nails are for, but I want you to grab them and hang on.”

  Mackenzie looked up at the railroad spikes pounded into the wall above her. “You’re getting kinky on me?” She wrapped her fingers around the spikes.

  “Mmm hmm.” Gina slowly tickled her fingers down Mackenzie’s arms, stopping at her breasts to flick her nipples. She smiled at her. “Do what I say.”

  Mackenzie’s belly contracted at the wicked look in her eyes. Visions of this beautiful dominatrix in red-leather boots making her come flooded through her, making her hips jerk all on their own. Wanting more.

  “Don’t let go,” Gina ordered. “No matter what I do.” Her voice rumbled like thunder. Gina knelt.

  Desire, stronger than anything she’d ever experienced, swirled through Mackenzie, converging in her pussy. She arched her back, feeling the rough timbers of the barn wall against her ass.

  Gina caressed Mackenzie’s legs and commanded, “Spread these creamy thighs for me. Let me see your gorgeous pussy.”

  Mackenzie spread her feet apart. Her juices tricked from her swollen lips down her thigh.

  “Further.” Gina ran her hand up the drip, caressing the tender flesh of Mackenzie’s inner leg, moving up closer, so close.

  “Touch me,” Mackenzie breathed, unable to wait another minute.

  “I’m going to touch you, sweet girl.” Gina gazed up at Mackenzie, her bedroom eyes dark and lovely. “I’m going to lick every inch of this pretty pink pussy. After that, I’m going to find your clit and suck it until you almost come for me.”

  She leaned forward. Staring at Mackenzie the whole time, she drew her tongue along her pussy from her opening to her clit. She licked her lips. “Delicious.”

  Mackenzie’s body spasmed in delight and anticipation. How much more could she take? Her hands gripped the spikes, holding her up as her knees quivered and threatened to buckle.

  Gina bit the spot above her mound. “Aren’t you going to ask me,” Gina plunged her tongue into Mackenzie’s sensitive belly button, “what I’m going to do then?”

  Mackenzie’s head tipped to the side, heavy on her weak neck. “What are you going to do then?”

  Kissing her way down her body, Gina said, “Then I’m going to give you a little surprise.”

  Mackenzie’s hips bucked as she ran through all the naughty, wonderful surprises Gina might perform on her tingling body. “I’m close now,” she warned.

  “I know, beautiful.” Her face pressed into Mackenzie’s folds. “I know your body so well.” She lapped at the hot, needy flesh. “I want to spend every free moment uncovering all your secrets, coaxing orgasms from it until you faint. I want to wake you every morning with my mouth worshiping you.”

  Mackenzie’s orgasm built, too quickly she’d be coming and screaming and gushing cunt juice and—

  Gina stood, leaving Mackenzie’s pussy deprived of those magic lips and scandalous tongue. She cried, “Please.”

  “I know, sweet girl, I’m not finished with you.” Her hand replaced her lips on Mackenzie’s slit. Gina slid a finger inside her channel and sucked her nipple deep into her mouth.

  Mackenzie pumped her hips back and forth, encouraging, needing more.

  She released her breast and latched onto the other, this time rolling her nipple against the roof of her mouth.

  Lightning bolts of pleasure shot directly from her breasts to her pussy, pushing her near nirvana.

  Gina removed her hand and stepped to Mackenzie’s side. “Tell me if you are ready for this.” Gina’s finger, wet with Mackenzie’s cream, touched her anus.

  Mackenzie jerked and took a breath, relaxing into the pleasure. “Yes,” she moaned. “It feels good.” The mysteriously new sensation consumed her thoughts for a minute, but quickly the physical delight engaged her.

  Gina purred, “That’s my girl. Always ready for a little more.” Her other hand slid down Mackenzie’s belly and cupped her sex. One finger wiggled into her tight cunt, and at the same time, Gina’s other finger pushed gently inside her rosebud anal opening.

  She loosened her muscles as Gina stroked both openings in rhythm, easing in a little more each time until Gina’s fingers were buried in both sensitive openings. Shivers rattled through Mackenzie, racing up her spine and spiraling into her core.

  Mackenzie’s orgasm built again, quicker this time, and when Gina’s thumb touched her clit, and she bent and took Mackenzie’s nipple into her mouth, chaos tore through Mackenzie’s limbs. Her mind shot into orbit and white sparks exploded everywhere. Too many sensations assaulted her, melding into one perfect storm of ecstasy. Every nerve in her body tingled, heated, and her knees finally gave out.

  Gina had her, wrapped in her arms, kissing her neck, and whispering lovely words into her ear. “My passionate, beautiful girl. Our life together will be more than amazing. It’s going to be heaven on earth.” She nipped her earlobe. “We’ll live here in the Garden of Eden, just the—” She tipped her head toward the horses. “Five of us. Until we’re ready for more.” Gina touched Mackenzie’s belly.

  Mackenzie straightened as strength flowed back into her joints. A pinch of residual nervousness flared. She enveloped her lover in her arms and looked into her eyes. “Gina. This happened so fast. We’ve got a lot of adjustments to make. It might not be heaven right away.”

  Gina smiled and kissed her quickly. “Oh, I know it’s going to be rocky at first. Our periods will come at the same time, and we’ll be PMSing together.”

  Mackenzie grimaced. “It’ll be shark week right here in the Midwest.”

  Gina laughed.

  Mackenzie touched her face. “I’ll move into the barn that week.”

  “Don’t even joke about leaving our bed.” Her hands stroked Mackenzie’s back, chasing away the chill.

  “I don’t think I have enough closet space for all your clothes.”

  Gina shook her head, bit her lip, and said seductively, “I won’t need many clothes, will I?”

  Mackenzie put her hands on Gina’s ass and pulled her in tight. “We’ll definitely need clothes when we meet each other’s families. Have you thought of how…interesting…that will be?”

  Gina shrugged. “I have a feeling your people are going to be less worried about my being a woman than they’ll be once they find out I’m a…” She made a face.

  Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “Ah, shit, Gina. You’re a democrat, aren’t you?”

  She nodded and grinned. “Yes, and when you least expect it, you might just find yourself turning into one, too.”

  Mackenzie shook her head and tried to pull away, but Gina held tight. Mackenzie shrugged. “Can’t change a Wyoming cowgirl. Best get used to that fact, ma’am.”

  Gina kissed her. “I love you just the way you are, Mackenzie. That will never change.”
/>   Mackenzie’s chest expanded and her eyes flooded with tears. “Gina, I love you.”

  Her lover’s eyes opened wide. Her smile brightened her face like a solar flare. “You love me?” She brushed Mackenzie’s tears from her cheeks. “Do you know, sweet, beautiful girl…” She rested her arms on Mackenzie’s shoulders. “I’ve never been in love before?”

  Mackenzie shook her head. “Can’t be. You’re so passionate and sensitive.”

  Gina kissed her, a sweet press of lips, and said with their lips touching, “I love you, Mackenzie. My first love. My only love.”

  Mackenzie’s heart expanded, a sweet pain gripping it with unbelievable ecstasy. This was everything she’d ever worked for, longed for, and prayed for. This perfect woman in her arms.

  They would make this work. She would find a way, no matter what obstacles they faced. Because she was in love, even though she never would have guessed she’d find love in the tender arms of another woman.

  About the Author

  When Randi Alexander is not dreaming of, or writing about, kinky cowboys, she’s biking trails along remote rivers, snorkeling the Gulf of Mexico, or practicing her drumming in hopes of someday forming a tropical-rock band.

  Romance novels have been Randi’s hideout since she was a teen. The chance to imagine herself as the strong but vulnerable heroine, and the guarantee of a “Happily Ever After” ending, have always been irresistible.

  Erotic romance is her newest passion. It still lets her live the heroine’s life and gives her a lovely ending, but also allows her to witness the attraction between the characters as they explore physical love. She hopes her writing sweeps you away and grants you pleasant dreams of all your fantasies coming true.

  Visit Randi at:

  www.randialexander.com

  To chat with Randi Alexander and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.

  Also Available

  Her Cowboy Stud

  by

  Randi Alexander

  Trace McGonagall's quiet life on his Houston stud ranch is shaken up when gorgeous Macy Veralta arrives to claim an inheritance left to her in his uncle's will. Trace sees her as just another gold digger, but he also can't resist her curvy body. When she hints at being the perfect submissive to his Dom, he has to have her.

  Macy wouldn't have been three months late to claim her inheritance if she'd known Trace was sin in jeans. The cowboy's dominant bearing and the smoldering glint in his eyes send shivers to her toes and stirs images of being bound in his bed and disciplined at his hand. But could Trace's perfect seduction be part of his plan to reclaim her inheritance?

  Chapter One

  The evening sun eased close to the horizon when Macy Veralta stepped out of her rental car onto the packed dirt driveway in front of a big old rambling ranch house. Its long, covered porch held a cozy grouping of wicker furniture on one end and a charming porch swing on the other. She took it all in.

  McGonagall Ranch was as beautiful as she’d imagined it. Corralled horses grazed under the endless sky. Big red barns stood with their doors open to catch the fresh spring breeze. Exactly the way Silas McGonagall had described it.

  With her first deep sniff, she caught the scent of grass and the not-completely-unpleasant odor of horse manure. She smiled and closed the car door. For a city girl, the two-hour drive through the wide-open spaces of Texas provided a new experience. It eased her busy mind and settled a peaceful stillness in her chest.

  A metallic squeak from the house alerted her that she was no longer alone. Oh, God. This was it. She was finally coming face to face with him. Trace McGonagall, the cowboy she’d been fantasizing about for nine months. She swung around as the screen door slapped shut. A big man strode onto the porch, settling his tan cowboy hat on his head.

  Magnificent. The only word she could find to describe him. His Uncle Silas had shown her his photo. She’d seen his picture online when she’d researched him, but, wow, the living, breathing man was extraordinary. Her stomach jittered in excitement.

  His handsome, strong-jawed face showed a dark five-o’clock shadow. The expected boots, jeans, belt with buckle, and light plaid button-down shirt were present. The way he filled them out—hot. Plenty of muscles and not a sign of a beer gut. The flip in her belly spread, escalating into a thrum that reached down low into her pussy, shocking her with its intensity.

  Damned if her feet didn’t choose that moment to stumble over themselves, sending her flailing backward to smack her ass against the car door. Thank heaven the car was there, or her white capris pants would now be collecting a sample of Texas dirt.

  While she busily made a fool of herself, he stopped his confident stride at the top of the steps. His full lips twitched. Under the brim of his hat, his dark eyes glimmered briefly as he rubbed his scruff. Was he laughing at her? That’s what she got for wearing her sexiest spike-heeled sandals to try to impress her fantasy cowboy.

  He dropped his hand from his face and grumbled, “You’re late.”

  Macy frowned. Not very nice, was he. Which was not at all what she expected. Silas had gone on and on about how courteous his nephew was. A true gentleman, but completely alone, no family to speak of except Silas. Too hard working to find time to date. Evidently rusty at dealing with women, too.

  She lifted her arm to check her watch, informing him succinctly, “Actually, I’m early. I told your housekeeper I’d be here by six and it’s only—”

  “You’re three months late, Miss Veralta.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the pillar that held up the porch roof. “My uncle died in January, and you’re just gettin’ here now?”

  Macy sucked in a breath as she pushed herself back to standing. That voice. Deep and strong, slow with a sensual Texas drawl, sending jolts of heat to her core and evoking the daydream she’d been indulging in for three quarters of a year. The fantasy where cowboy Trace McGonagall held her close and murmured low, sexy promises in her ear.

  “Are you even listenin’ to me?” The snap in his voice obliterated her daydream and stirred up her need to bite back.

  “There was nothing in your uncle’s will that said I had to pick up my bequest by a certain time.” Ouch, that came out a little too bitchy.

  The cowboy’s lips thinned. “What do you mean, ‘pick up’? And how did you know my uncle?”

  Macy heaved a sigh. This was turning out so terribly wrong. Here they were, sniping at each other, when she’d spent hours planning how this meeting would go. Her, in her designer sandals, capris, and strawberry-patterned halter top. Her shoulder-length blonde hair blowing in the soft breeze. Yes, she would be irresistible.

  In her dream, he’d be startled by her sexy charm, pull out all of his seductive cowboy tricks, and by sunset they’d be sharing a kiss right there on the porch.

  “Miss Veralta. Are you still with me?” He sounded exasperated.

  Oh, crap, she’d been staring again. Wondering how his lips would taste. Heat rose to her cheeks as she muttered, “Um…”

  He gestured with his head. “Maybe you should come up here into the shade. The Texas sun can be rough—”

  “No,” she croaked. Her, up there on the porch with him? It would take all her willpower to keep from pulling him to her and rushing into that kiss a couple hours ahead of schedule. “I’m sorry, can we start over? I’m guessing you’re Trace McGonagall?”

  He grunted, uncrossed his arms, and clomped down the wooden steps, all loose limbed and masculine. “My apologies, ma’am. I’m usually not lackin’ in manners.” He walked right up to her and tipped his hat. “But this whole situation has got me riled.”

  He stood at least a foot taller than her. She had to look up into his eyes. They weren’t brown as she’d thought—they were a perfectly inky blue. A few strands of brown hair escaped from under his hat, looking like they might be wet. His scent surrounded her, clean, like soap and rainwater. Had he just showered? Was there
anything sexier than a freshly washed cowboy? Every nerve in her body tingled and urged her to get closer. As close as possible. Right into his arms.

  “Ma’am, you do a lot of starin’.” His right brow lifted.

  She glanced away. Had he read the longing in her eyes? “It’s been a long week.” She felt the need to explain her awkwardness, and her tardiness. She met his gaze. “I travel for a living. This is the first chance I had to detour to Houston.” She wouldn’t tell him that when she found out Silas had died and remembered her in his will, she realized she was finally going to meet Trace McGonagall. She’d spent every spare moment of the last three months at the gym. Since graduating college, her hectic lifestyle left her a little pudgy and a lot lazy. Today she felt good. Happy with her body. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but your Uncle Silas’ attorney didn’t mention any need for urgency.”

  Trace scratched his cheek. “I didn’t mean to offend, ma’am, but—”

  “Macy.” She smiled, hoping to unfreeze this stiff cowboy a little bit.

  He looked at her strangely, as if weighing the benefits of getting to know her on a more personal level.

  “May I call you Trace?” She attempted to say his name with a light, teasing tone, but it came out choked. Darn it, what was it about this man that had her so jumpy? A big man, strong and confident. Dominating. The visual of him taking charge in the bedroom made her sigh.

  He huffed out a breath, almost as if he was laughing at her again, but he recovered quickly. “Yeah, Trace is fine.”

  He was indeed fine. As she lost herself deep in his gaze, a chill of awareness rattled through her.

  He noticed, drawing his brows together. He did his share of staring for a minute before steeling his features. “Now, there’re a number of details to be worked out. Things I’ve been handlin’ for you the last three months.” His features regained the frustrated, thin-lipped look from earlier in their conversation. “An offer I’d consider makin’, if you’re amenable.”