Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
His tongue is warm and wet and so soft against my aching folds. He lavishes me with attention, drinking in my juices until I’m coming with a squeal. I grind my pussy against his face until he’s covered in my essence, his face dripping with it.
By the time, he stands I’m leaning back against the countertop on my elbows. That was the most incredible thing I ever experienced, and it was in the women’s bathroom of some honky-tonk bar.
“Come home with me,” he says softly. It’s strange to see him looking so shy considering what we just did.
I hesitate. He was great and I definitely want more of what we did together. But I’m not sure about going home with a stranger. That sounds too unsafe.
He seems to realize I’m uncomfortable. “Then how about the hotel two blocks down? I want to lay you out, feast on you for hours.”
I nod at that because a hotel means people will be nearby. That’s got to be safer, I hope.
He helps me into my shorts then takes my hand. Together, we saunter to the front of the bar to close out tonight’s tab with his arm slung over my shoulder. I like the feel of his hard body pressed against my soft curves.
Standing next to him, it suddenly occurs to me how stupid this is. I’m alone and homeless in a strange city with a man I just met tonight. He could be a major creep.
I watch him reach for cash from his wallet and swallow hard. There are probably a few things I should ask. “Do you pick up a lot of women here?”
“Never,” his response is quick and venomous as if he can’t stand the idea of being with another woman.
He pauses and studies my face. Quickly, he puts the cash back and slides the tired bartender a credit card. He nods toward the register. “A credit card will leave a record of my name and address.”
My cowboy turns and points toward the camera in the corner. “See the cam? It’s linked to the social media feed. Highlights of us will probably make it up tomorrow night.”
“Really?” His words have me relaxing my hunched shoulders.
“True,” the bartender agrees. He winks at me. “And I know who this ugly bastard is. He’s been trying to win that damn prize for years.”
A grin splits my man’s face as he remembers our prize. He hurries to the table where he accidentally left them and returns a second later with the bull balls. “Can’t forget the Rocky Mountain Oysters.”
I chuckle. “What did you call them?”
“Bull testicles are a fried delicacy in parts of the US and Canada.” He holds open the door for me.
“You’re kidding,” I murmur as I step into the humid night air. This is one of the things I love about the South. The humidity wraps around you like a blanket in the summer. Even at night, it doesn’t let up.
“Afraid not. I’m from a ranching community, darlin’.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and gestures toward his truck just a few steps away.
The drive to the hotel doesn’t take long but a part of me wishes that it would last forever. With his arm around my shoulders and the night breeze coming through the air, everything feels magical. He hums along to the radio and taps on the wheel in a steady rhythm to it.
I scoot as close as the bench seat allows and press a kiss to his neck. His skin is warm under my touch, and he tastes spicy. It makes me wonder if he tastes like this all over or just here.
He swears under his breath while he pulls into the parking lot. “Behave, darlin. Your cowboy only has so much self-control.”
Your cowboy. I like that nickname as I press another kiss to the same spot.
“I’ll make sure you pay for that,” he growls as he helps me from the truck and into the hotel lobby. He pays again with a credit card and before I know it, we’re inside the room.
“Strip,” he demands the moment he’s closed the door. I love the way he can slip so easily into that commanding demeanor. It makes me wonder what he does in real life. He was wearing a uniform of some kind earlier, wasn’t he? I’m pretty sure he left it behind at the bar.
I turn to him. “Ask me nicely.”
He leans against the door, looking mildly amused. He crosses his arms, his t-shirt pulling tight in the biceps and highlighting that broad chest of his. “Do it or I’ll spank your pretty bottom.”
That’s the second time he’s threatened to spank me and while I’d love to find out what that’s like, I need this man inside of me first. I yank my tank top over my head and toss it on the floor. My bra is next, revealing my set of double-Ds.