by Susan Arden
His words lit a fire in her, and her temper enflamed her from the inside out. She began to shake, ramping up well past angry. The beat of her heart thudded in her temples. The space around them condensed into a sweltering inferno as she stared up at his gorgeous face.
God, she wasn’t about to let him have the last word. “I wanted to see down the hall and you weren’t supposed to... I didn’t expect... I’m collecting information... Data. For a report. It wasn’t my intention... to like what we did!”
To her horror, her quivering words tripped out of her mouth like blocks of wood. Her voiced tightened as her thoughts unraveled. She couldn’t finish. She lifted her trembling fingers and swiped a strand of hair behind her ear. How she hated her inability to talk when she got to the state of choking frustration. Inside her body it felt like a festering ball of broiling heat torched her nerves as she stood there silent and infuriated, glaring up into Brandon’s face.
“Data? Is that what you want? And here I thought you were just teasing me.” He raked his eyes down her body and a smug smile tugged at his lips. “Then sugar, let’s have at it. Let me show you how I can go the distance and have you screaming my name in less than ten minutes. If you’re pressed for time, five minutes would work with the things I know a woman like you prefers.”
Now, he’d done it! From muted vexation, she seethed, so enraged even her hair felt on fire. She no longer cared what he or anyone thought. “A woman like me?” She took a deep breath as she jerked away from the wall.
“Yeah, Mia. A woman like you,” he growled low, his piercing eyes undressing her.
“Can you stare any harder? I’m. Up. Here.” She jabbed him in the chest, punctuating each word. “Cowboy, you haven’t encountered anyone like me before, so don’t even pretend you could keep up.”
She drove her palms into his chest. It was either that or her hips. Didn’t matter. Her attempt at shoving him was a total joke. Under her hands, the muscular contours of his pecs didn’t yield but flexed, sensually provoking, utterly tempting.
They stood frozen, his heart thudding against her palms and their breathing coming out in gulps. The heat of his body permeated the space around her and she silently groaned. What in the heck would he look like without that shirt?
Dammit! Her rogue brain was seriously demented if she couldn’t keep the thread of his insulting words in her grasp. “Whatever you might think you know about me, it’s all wrong.”
“Don’t think so. I got it right about you from the get go.” He backed away from her and she let her arms drop until her hands were safely against her sides. He stared down at her, displeasure written all over his face. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s timing. Mine is for shit and I can see you’re all talk. Probably a damn good skill for research.”
“Oh and how would you know?”
“Mia, let me set you straight on your assumptions. Just because I wear a Stetson and boots, and spend countless hours sweatin’ buckets in a saddle, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m your average shit-kicker. Darlin’, I’ve got a college degree same as you, only I didn’t have to kiss anyone to earn it.” He punched in a code and propped open the side exit door. “The parking lot is right outside.”
Cool winter air entered the hall, swirling the ends of her hair. That’s the only part of her that outwardly moved. Stunned, she gaped at him as he strode down a narrow hall. He turned to tip his hat in her direction before he opened a door and stepped through the doorway. She expected a man with such a biting temper to slam the door, but he didn’t.
Her last vision of him was his profile as he shook his gorgeous head and the muscle along his jaw twitched. He was attempting to control himself. But why did this even matter to a man like him? Wasn’t this just all sex and BDSM scenes anyway?
A resounding NO! reverberated in her head. Questions bloomed in her researcher mind, but right now, those were drowned out by the river of raw sensation racing in her blood. Her heart didn’t just pound, it crashed, and every beat thundered against her ribcage as she stood in the dim hall, her body and brain at odds with each other. What was it about Brandon that prompted in her a hedonistic desire to free fall when her mind demanded a backup plan?
There was more to McLemore than met the eye. Her tingling skin and kiss-bruised lips weren’t the only clues. A different sensation pulsed inside her, subtle, almost easy to miss.
Akin to a flutter in her chest like a butterfly that had awakened, and stole her breath. Everything else faded until she felt as if her insides were hollowed by excitement. Her heart took up the beat, drumming a chant, and made her vow, she had to find out why. Pushing past the exit door into the pelting snow, lust drunk she marched all the way to her car. Turning, she caught sight of the stained-glass glowing crimson at night. She’d be back. On that, she was certain.
Want More Bad Boys & Good Girls?
The full story of Mia and Brandon...COLLARED BY THE COWBOY!
363 pages of HOT DAMN!
Book # 2 KISS ME COWGIRL
Meet Mia’s sister and Brandon’s cousin
in Kiss Me Cowgirl
In a fiery affair
Rod and Margo lie, cheat, steal...
A wedding, two hardheaded lovers,
and one hookup later
Rod’s mission of GO AND GET THE GIRL
turns into a steeplechase that hurts so good.
When he crosses paths with Margo,
their hookup is a disaster in the making.
They’re related. Kinda. It’s complicated.
She’s hands-off.
Still in high school. And unforgettable.
Just try and stop this Marine sniper
once he sets his sights on a barrel racing spitfire.
Margo Santero goes by the nickname of Scrapper.
She ran away from home after her mom died,
in a race to outdistance the man who’s made her life a living hell.
What starts out as a random hookup with a gorgeous stranger
ends up as a heart throbbing roller coaster ride.
In the shadows, a demented cat-n-mouse game
has Margo’s back against the wall.
Forced into a corner, she refuses to choose between her horse
and the man who taught her a battle worth fighting
requires she take a stand.
And like the scrapper that she is, Margo comes out swinging.
Acknowledgements
To my husband. My rock. You never let me back away from the edge.
At the brink, I found the courage to leap
and crafted wings for the stories that fill my mind, heart, and dreams.
Thank you to Marlene Engel
and Anna Tibbett!
This story being published is only possible with your help ladies.
Tirelessly you polish words and always have something positive to say.
Your proofing skills are matchless!
Huge thank you to C.A.T. Designs for
Ebook Formatting and Cover ~ Cover Art Tart Designs LLC
Stock Images:
Shutterstock.com©SvetlanaFedoseyeva
Dollarphoto.com ~ Canstockphoto.com
Istock©cokacoka
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Breaking a Bad Boy #6
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Coming Soon: Badass is Back #8
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