city-girl persona had loosened something else, too. Some people might say it was her morals, but she felt relaxed and a little euphoric, and it wasn’t just the tequila. Maybe it was her inner hussy, or maybe it was her true self.
It felt good to tell her secrets. Of course, there was nothing to stop Lane from telling Eric she wasn’t what she seemed, and while Eric might not fire her, he wouldn’t trust her anymore. How many times had he mentioned how lucky he was to find a girl with so much inborn class and culture? How many times had she led him to believe she was the real thing?
She felt a stab of panic, then shrugged it off. There was no point in worrying. What was done was done. She didn’t know if it was the heat of Lane’s body or the warmth of the tequila running through her veins, but something was torching all her inhibitions and igniting all kinds of delicious new possibilities. She’d resolved never to mix business with pleasure, but Lane didn’t want any part of the business, right?
Besides, the rodeo arena, standing isolated on the highway to nowhere, seemed somehow separate from the rest of the world. Cars and trucks whipped by on their unknown business, oblivious to the lights and noise, the little dramas playing out behind the rough wood ranch-style entrance. Once the dramas were played out, people drove out of the lot and back into everyday life. It was like stepping out of time and into a fantasy world. Suspended in a ray of moonlight, she felt the world outside the trailer slow, then stop.
Maybe, just for one night, she could step out of the life she’d constructed so carefully and be herself. She took Lane’s face in her hands, burying her fingers in his hair as she bent down and ran her tongue over the curve of his lips. As her breasts flattened against his chest and his hips flexed to meet hers, she spilled everything she felt out into a hot, fiery kiss that burned through the last of her scruples.
Sarah Landon, Two Shot cowgirl, had returned. And surprisingly, Sarah Landon, prissy professional, was really glad to see her.
***
Talk about shifting gears. Lane had never seen a girl change from prim and proper to sweet and sexy so fast in his life. He drew back, partly to appreciate the sight of Sarah sprawled beneath him and partly to make sure it was really happening.
Her eyes were half closed, her hair a tangled mass framing her pale face. Her T-shirt had ridden partway up and somehow the top button of her jeans had come undone. She was an open invitation any man would accept.
He stroked a finger across the waistline of her jeans. His finger dipped down into the V created by the undone button and her skin rippled in response.
Bending down, he kissed her again, his hand skimming up her body. Her abs didn’t feel like a city girl’s; they were taut and strong but not hard like a gym six-pack. He kissed the spot at the juncture of her ribs, then lifted the shirt higher. She sighed and arched her back, her breasts straining at the confines of her bra, and he deftly undid the front clasp and peeled away the thin fabric.
The sight of her lying half naked on his bed in the moonlight was something he never wanted to forget, and for a minute he just drank her in. She twisted her body, closing her eyes and parting her lips as if not having his hands on her was torture. He cupped both hands around her breasts, squeezing them gently, and licked a slow circle around each nipple. She gasped and made a pleading sound, a little cry that flooded him with feeling. He’d been hard since they danced, but now he was balanced on the thin line between pain and pleasure, his skin stretching over muscles so taut and tense that the slightest touch would send him over the edge.
He made a conscious effort to slow down, flicking his tongue over the rising peaks of her breasts, giving each one his full attention. She squirmed her approval and her jeans edged lower, the zipper parting to reveal a hint of lace
It felt good to tell her secrets. Of course, there was nothing to stop Lane from telling Eric she wasn’t what she seemed, and while Eric might not fire her, he wouldn’t trust her anymore. How many times had he mentioned how lucky he was to find a girl with so much inborn class and culture? How many times had she led him to believe she was the real thing?
She felt a stab of panic, then shrugged it off. There was no point in worrying. What was done was done. She didn’t know if it was the heat of Lane’s body or the warmth of the tequila running through her veins, but something was torching all her inhibitions and igniting all kinds of delicious new possibilities. She’d resolved never to mix business with pleasure, but Lane didn’t want any part of the business, right?
Besides, the rodeo arena, standing isolated on the highway to nowhere, seemed somehow separate from the rest of the world. Cars and trucks whipped by on their unknown business, oblivious to the lights and noise, the little dramas playing out behind the rough wood ranch-style entrance. Once the dramas were played out, people drove out of the lot and back into everyday life. It was like stepping out of time and into a fantasy world. Suspended in a ray of moonlight, she felt the world outside the trailer slow, then stop.
Maybe, just for one night, she could step out of the life she’d constructed so carefully and be herself. She took Lane’s face in her hands, burying her fingers in his hair as she bent down and ran her tongue over the curve of his lips. As her breasts flattened against his chest and his hips flexed to meet hers, she spilled everything she felt out into a hot, fiery kiss that burned through the last of her scruples.
Sarah Landon, Two Shot cowgirl, had returned. And surprisingly, Sarah Landon, prissy professional, was really glad to see her.
***
Talk about shifting gears. Lane had never seen a girl change from prim and proper to sweet and sexy so fast in his life. He drew back, partly to appreciate the sight of Sarah sprawled beneath him and partly to make sure it was really happening.
Her eyes were half closed, her hair a tangled mass framing her pale face. Her T-shirt had ridden partway up and somehow the top button of her jeans had come undone. She was an open invitation any man would accept.
He stroked a finger across the waistline of her jeans. His finger dipped down into the V created by the undone button and her skin rippled in response.
Bending down, he kissed her again, his hand skimming up her body. Her abs didn’t feel like a city girl’s; they were taut and strong but not hard like a gym six-pack. He kissed the spot at the juncture of her ribs, then lifted the shirt higher. She sighed and arched her back, her breasts straining at the confines of her bra, and he deftly undid the front clasp and peeled away the thin fabric.
The sight of her lying half naked on his bed in the moonlight was something he never wanted to forget, and for a minute he just drank her in. She twisted her body, closing her eyes and parting her lips as if not having his hands on her was torture. He cupped both hands around her breasts, squeezing them gently, and licked a slow circle around each nipple. She gasped and made a pleading sound, a little cry that flooded him with feeling. He’d been hard since they danced, but now he was balanced on the thin line between pain and pleasure, his skin stretching over muscles so taut and tense that the slightest touch would send him over the edge.
He made a conscious effort to slow down, flicking his tongue over the rising peaks of her breasts, giving each one his full attention. She squirmed her approval and her jeans edged lower, the zipper parting to reveal a hint of lace
Similar Books
