Cowgirl Up and Ride (33 page)

Thoroughbred rancher’s daughter Caitlyn Culver has always wanted playboy Cord Daily, even after her daddy threatened to bankrupt him. But winning a racehorse in a poker game means Cord is no longer just a cattle rancher. He’s come back wealthier and more wicked than ever.

Snaring this cowboy won’t be easy for Cait, and keeping him will be even harder.

Still, his sexual antics and taste for ménages won’t scare her off. She knows the best way to snag a man like Cord is to pretend indifference. So when he comes onto her in the barn, she plays along—only to leave him tied to a ladder, aroused and unfulfilled.

It’s payback time.

Cord seeks out Cait and brings along his playboy cousin, Dolan Crane. The two cowboys are enough to set her body afire. She’s bound and determined to resist their sexual allure, but ends up experiencing a night beyond her wildest fantasies. Now Dolan wants Cait for himself. Cait’s father wants Cord’s racehorse. And Cord wants Caitlyn to choose—her father’s money or her cowboy’s love.

Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, ménage a
trois, and BDSM.

Enjoy the following excerpt from
Take Me: Cait nearly swallowed her tongue as she jerked away from the stall. Startled, her heart raced, only picking up speed when she saw who addressed her. Cord’s deep, sexy voice and his soft laughter that followed sent chills up her spine.

In a last-ditch effort to steady her hands, she rested them on her hips. “If it isn’t the bad boy of Santa Ysabel, California.”

Palm over his heart, Cord cried, “Owww…”

One minute he sported a mournful expression, the next his eyelashes lowered and he narrowed his eyes on her. When he pushed away from the stall Cait knew she was in trouble.

Her breath caught on an inhale.

Breathe
.

He approached with bold, arrogant strides, flashing a drop-dead sexy smile that melted her insides.

She had to remind herself that Cord might make her mushy on the inside, but she had to be hard as nails on the outside in dealing with this man. Haughtily, she swept her gaze up and down him, pausing deliberately at his groin, before they came eye to eye.

Two can play this game
.

Cait had been barely nineteen when she left California. She wasn’t the same girl now. Still little had changed when it came to her desires. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Cord Daily.

Rumors were his sexual antics ran wild. His taste for ménages had scared the living crap out of her. Not anymore. She’d take Cord any way she could have him.

Already she was imagining his lean, muscled physique pressed against hers, the feel of his slightly wavy blond hair between her fingers. The thought sent a twist of sensation in her belly and caused her heart to beat even faster.

The taut denim stretched low across his hips, outlining an impressive package—one she had every intention of unwrapping and soon, but not yet. The time had to be right or she’d lose him.

Slowly, he caressed her from head to toe, stripping her naked a piece of clothing at a time with just a look.

Little did he know that’s how Cait wanted it—skin-to-skin. Night after night, she dreamed of Cord’s hands roaming her body, heating her blood until she came apart at the seams.

Pulse pumping madly, she held her breath and prayed her aplomb wouldn’t shatter.

She managed not to flinch when he reached for the ribbon holding her hair and pulled,

releasing her tresses to fall around her shoulders. She even contained a reaction when he used that ribbon to tickle her bare shoulder blades and tease the exposed swells of her breasts. But no amount of willpower could have restrained her gasp as he released the ribbon to slither down her T-shirt.

He was good—damn good.

Her knees weakened, while her chest rose and fell more rapidly than she would prefer. And that wasn’t all that was going on with her body. The sting in her nipples twisted into an ache that shot straight for her pussy. She only prayed he couldn’t scent her arousal.

Stay focused, Cait.

She knew this man. He liked the game—liked the hunt. But he had a little surprise coming.

She wasn’t the prey—he was.

When she snagged the bad boy, she had plans to hold onto him, no matter what her father said. Who was he to determine Cord wasn’t good enough just because he didn’t offer anything to the family but cattle?

For Christsake, she was a woman and she’d damn well make her own choices.

Cord speared his fingers through her hair, jerking her to him, chest to chest, hips to hips. His lips were a breath away from hers, tempting—teasing.

Just another ploy to see if she’d close the gap between them—kiss him first—then he’d know he won.

Ain’t gonna happen
.

“Something you want, Cord?” When she spoke her mouth brushed across his. It was pure hell not to take what she wanted, especially with his trimmed goatee and mustache tickling and tantalizing her lips.

His eyes darkened, his voice lowered. “You, darlin’.”

This was the opening she’d been waiting for—it was her move.

Cait’s gaze peeled away from his as she smoothed her cheek along his. She felt the catch in his breathing as she brought her lips to his ear and blew lightly, before inhaling the rich scent of sandalwood.

“I want you too.” She coaxed her tone to be soft, husky. “I’ve always wanted you.”

If you only knew how much
.

He tried to snake his arms around her, but she was quick in pressing her palm against his chest, holding him at bay. Slowly, she curled her fingernails so they bit into him.

His seductive mouth parted, drawing her attention.

God, how she wanted to taste him, knowing if she did there would be a power exchange and she would be lost. “
Uh-uh-uh
. Let’s play first. You like to play games, don’t you, Cord?”

“Darlin’, right now I’d do anything you ask.” He shifted his hips. “See what you do to me.” He removed her hand from his chest, guiding it to his rock-hard groin.

Sinfully, he thrust his cock against her palm, working her hand up and down.

His intimate contact was more than she could have hoped for. The tightening of her grip rewarded her with deep growls that rumbled from his chest. The veins in his neck bulged. He leaned further into her touch and closed his eyes.

What next?

Her gaze darted around the barn. On a bench lay several strips of leather. Someone had been repairing a bridle. She released him and stepped away.

His heavy eyelids rose, his brow furrowing. “Where are you going?”

She gave him the most big-eyed, innocent expression she could muster. “I’m going to tie you up. That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Cord’s rich laughter caressed her. “Darlin’, you’ve got that backward.”

Her bottom lip protruded into a little pout. “Don’t you want to play with me?”

He moved fast, his arm circling her waist, bringing her tight against his body. “Oh, yeah. I want to play with you.”

She could live forever staring into his aqua eyes, more green than blue. But if she were too eager she’d be just another notch on his belt. She wanted more than that—much more.

The bad boy was going down.

Dirty Deeds...when good, clean fun isn't an option.

Dirty Deeds

© 2006 Lorelei James

Just once, good girl Tate Cross wants to experience a red-hot, no-strings-attached affair. She’s temporarily left her graphic artist position in Denver to settle her aunt’s estate in Spearfish, South Dakota. However, Tate receives a city mandate: she must comply with new landscaping regulations before she can resell the property. Given Tate’s precarious finances, she asks her friend, Val for advice. Val swears her brother—owner of a local construction company, and a man well-versed in purely physical relationships—might consider trading dirt work for art lessons. When Tate meets the mysterious Casanova, can she convince him to toss in a few sex lessons as well?

Nathan LeBeau believes few women look at the Native American man beneath the filthy work clothes and hard hat. He’s kept past liaisons casual—a fact his sister shared, hence Tate’s sexy proposition of wanting a hands on demonstration of his sexpertise. But in truth, he’s tired of relationships based solely on sex. His goal of proving he’s not completely hopeless in matters of the heart is second only to his dream of expanding his business.

What happens when Tate desires no-holds-barred sex and Nathan favors a good old-fashioned romance?

A battle of wills ensues.

And Tate is willing to get down and dirty to get what she wants.

Enjoy this excerpt from Dirty Deeds:

Tate blinked at the smoldering look in Nathan’s eyes. “What?” His sheer size dwarfed her. Made her feel a little afraid and completely secure at the same time.

He held her gaze. Drank his beer. Bracing his left hand above her head, he lightly traced the ridged bottom of the cold bottle across her stomach from hipbone to hipbone.

“You know what.”

The muscles in her belly quivered, sending a rush of heat south. Nerves, nipples, throat tightened. “Save your breath if we’re going to talk some more. I’ve heard enough.”

“Me too. I finally got it.”

She gasped when he zigzagged the icy bottle over her navel, rolling it over her ribcage so every bone felt the stinging cold. The slow glide up and down the valley of her breasts was pure torture. He outlined her nipples with the bottle tip, then brought it back to his mouth to run his wicked tongue around rim. Not once did those heavy-lidded eyes break contact. Her blood thickened. Her pulse raced. Tate moistened her dry lips. “Got what?”

He set the bottle on the floor. His mouth lowered, breathing cool air across her sun-warmed shoulder. “Got that you don’t want to hear my ideas on romance or a lengthy lecture on xeriscaping. That you’d rather have this.”

He kissed her. Hard. Crushing their mouths together, he angled her head, pulling her chin down with his thumb to open her mouth wholly to his assault. Hot, wet sweeps of his darting tongue. His taste sizzled. Teased. Then his greedy tongue found hers and soothed, thrust, suckled. Gentle palms framed her face. His fingers dug into her tingling scalp even as his mouth destroyed and branded her.

Tate couldn’t catch her breath. His teeth seductively scraped her bottom lip. She inhaled and felt a butterfly brush of his warm lips against hers before Nathan dove in to expertly plumb the depths of her mouth again. This kiss was softer, but no less insistent.

No less potent, the sensuous way their every breath mingled and fed the desire. Tangle.

Retreat. Tate’s body roared, aching for a deeper connection. Still, he merely kissed her.

Gorging on her. As if he’d been too long denied her taste. Finally his hands grasped her shoulders. His thumbs slid across her damp skin to press the pulse racing in her throat.

She took that as a sign. Allowing her hands free rein, she smoothed her hands down his chest, needing to find a single patch of his bare skin to assure her this was really happening.

He braceleted her wrists and brought them by her sides. He lifted his mouth.

At the loss of contact, she whimpered, “Nathan—”

“Ssh. I may be slow on the uptake but make no mistake I’m in charge. Rule number one of this lesson.” His lips toyed with hers. “Keep your hands against the wall unless I tell you differently.” He positioned her hands palm side down, next to her thighs, taking a moment to run one wayward finger up the center of her body.

She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, where were we?” he murmured.

“On the way to the bedroom?” Tate suggested. She curled her hands into fists against the tiny kernel of fear that he’d stop touching her.

“Mmm. Not yet.” His hair tickled her nose. “I’m not done kissing you.” His breath exploded over her lips and she drank him in. “Lips like these gives a man all sorts of ideas.” He drew the tip of his tongue across the seam, slowly, tiny flicks of flame urging her to surrender to the heat.

When she gasped at the erotic sensation his clever tongue dashed inside for a quick taste. Her interior muscles clenched.

“I think about this mouth.” He nibbled her top lip from corner to corner. Then he ran his tongue along the underside near her teeth. “Fantasize really.” He used the wet inside rim of his bottom lip to trace thrilling circles over her lips. “About things I’d like to do to it. Things I’d like to see this pouty mouth doing to me.”

Tate trembled against the near orgasmic experience of simple mouth on mouth. She was drowning in sensuality with every lazy sweep, every suctioning pull of his tongue.

Helplessly her head fell back against the wall.

Nathan kissed her again, growling deep in his throat, “Don’t move.”

Hot open-mouthed kisses trailed down her cheek, her jaw line, the tip of her chin.

His labored breathing heightened her awareness, releasing a delicious shiver down to the marrow of her softening bones.

Tate moaned. Electric shock therapy. That’s what it felt like, his moist mouth feasting on her tingling skin. Turning her head to sample him, she lost her mind in his raw taste. He swung away from her explorations with a muffled curse.

Blazing a damp path down her neck, he flicked his tongue to the beat pulsing in the hollow of her throat. Soft nibbling kisses on each side of her collarbone. The graze of his

teeth. His mouth ventured lower. His fingers skillfully feathered up her wrists, her arms, her shoulders to rest on the curve of her neck.

She was afraid she’d beg for a firmer, faster contact. “Nathan—”

“Remember you telling me to have patience? Same goes, sweetheart.” Nathan’s big hands slid through her hair, gripping the short tresses. His callused fingertips casually stroked her nape. His thumbs traced every sensitive section of her ears. Then he splayed his hands wide. Gradually those thick, open palms descended to her breasts.

Her breath hitched, yet she stayed still. She ached to press the hardened tips into his too-patient hands. She craved the first intimate heated sensation of his slick mouth on her skin.