Her Sexy Marine Valentine (16 page)

He intended to take the title at this rodeo, and probably from this very woman.

* * *

K
ENZIE
M
ALONE
MOVED
through Indie's stall with the ease born of thousands of hours doing the same repetitive tasks for a variety of horses, some of them hers but most her father's. Indie was all hers, though, and the mare was special. She was one of the first fillies out of a line Kenzie had started the moment she'd received the first half of her trust six years ago. She'd been eighteen.

The animal was an anomaly at five years old. Indie possessed more intuition, more instinctive responses than could be cataloged. Riding her was a dream. All Kenzie had to do was keep one leg on each side of the saddle and park her mind in the middle. The horse did the rest. Indie knew where to step, when and why, and that left Kenzie with less to do than fans might believe. Yet riding Indie always provided a thrill—almost as much as the man currently lingering in the doorway.

Every inch of Ty Covington's six-three frame was delectable. She wanted to run her tongue through the hollow at the base of his throat...again. She wanted to taste the salt and sunshine on his skin...again. She wanted to nibble her way to the waistline of his jeans and dip her fingers below the band of his boxer briefs, tease the root of his arousal before taking him...again.

It dawned on Kenzie that she should probably spare them both the public humiliation and turn the hose on herself before she mentally stripped Ty naked. Face flushed, she pulled her hat off and ran Indie's polishing rag over her head, wiping away the excess sweat. Not much she could do about the shortness of breath or the way her nipples pearled beneath her T-shirt. That was simply the way she responded to Ty. Each time. Every time.

Aware it wouldn't take the man long to pick up on her interest, she focused on tasks that would keep the horse between them. But Ty, being Ty, managed to charm the female in Indie, moving her away from her hay net to accept the small pieces of apple Ty offered. The horse's move left Kenzie with a head-to-toe view of the cowboy.

She was torn between thanking the gods for his perfection and cursing the same deities for the distraction the man created by simply
being
. Broad shoulders, a muscular build, dirty-blond hair that was a good four weeks past the point of trimming, brown eyes richer than the most expensive chocolate, large hands, strong jaw and lips made for kissing—all things that drew her. But what really flipped her switch was his confidence. True confidence, though, not arrogance.

For a man who looked the way he did and had so many notches in his bedpost it resembled a totem pole, that was saying something. And as if that weren't attractive enough, she had to include his sense of humor, compassion, friendliness and easy compatibility—in public, but particularly in private. It was the recipe for the perfect man. Or would have been, save one thing.

Tyson Covington couldn't stand postsex
anything
. No cuddling. No pillow talk. She'd never had the chance to wake up to his sleep-rumpled face the next morning because he'd
never
spent the night. He made a mad dash for the door before she could ask him to stay. It had started out as a relief. Now? Kenzie wasn't as comfortable about his urgency to get out of her room once they were both satisfied. And it was
always
her room.

She turned away from him, worrying her bottom lip with such ferocity it hurt.

“It's not like you to turn your back on me, Malone.” From her peripheral vision, she watched the man step closer and tip the brim of his hat up to better reveal those dark brown eyes. “What's bothering you?”

The simple question, so softly worded, totally caught her off guard. He'd always been playful. This quiet concern was new, and it threw her off her game. It was the only reason she had for answering, “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You.” Heat rushed across her cheeks. This wasn't how they worked, and she doubted he'd take the change well.

She didn't see him move, but suddenly he'd spun her around and pressed the front of her body against the darkest corner of the stall wall. Running his hands up her arms, he stretched her out, her wrists captured in one hand.

Kenzie yanked on her wrists and arched her back.

Ty kicked her feet wide and, bending at the knees, rubbed the ridge of his impressive erection up and down the seam of her ass. Bending forward to cover her, his lips brushed the edge of her ear as he spoke. “Ground rules stay the same as those we set at regionals. Winner gets his—or her—fantasy night. Or do you want to modify the game for the big show?”

His hot breath tickled her ear and made her shiver.

Her body responded of its own accord, her back arching again to better present her ass, her arms pulling against his hands, her head canting farther to the side so he might have better access to her neck. His actions fed a primal need in her to be taken, claimed, while her mind screamed that they were in public, could be caught. And wasn't that the crux of being with Ty? There was always a risk, always that touch of spontaneity that was his calling card, that thing that always made sex as fun as it was pleasurable.

Ty let her neck go without warning. Then he stretched her arms higher, forcing her to move to follow them up the wall. “When did little Kenzie Malone decide she liked a little exhibitionism?” he whispered, moist lips barely brushing the top of her ear.

“When did the cowboy who established
love 'em and leave 'em
decide to stick around long enough to do it right?” she countered.

Ty grabbed her hip and spun her to face him. Wedging a thigh between her legs, he rubbed against her sex with firm strokes. Not once did he tear his gaze from hers. “Where's this coming from, Kenzie?”

“If you'd park your boots beside the bed instead of being so damn afraid to take them off at all, I would imagine there would be a lot you'd learn about the women you call ‘lover,' Covington. Including me.” The brazen statement held within it a poorly disguised challenge, one he clearly heard.

He hauled his body back, eyes wide, and let go of her arms before spinning for the door and stalking out.

She never had the chance to ask him to stay.

Copyright © 2016 by Denise Tompkins

ISBN-13: 9781488000089

Her Sexy Marine Valentine

Copyright © 2016 by Candace Havens

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com