Gotta Love A Cowboy
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Excerpt

Story Excerpt

Shielding her eyes from the glare of sunlight, she watched while the driver’s door popped open and black, pointed-toe boots hit the dirt as the man stepped out. Long legs encased in a pair of Wrangler jeans gave way to trim hips and a narrow waist made even more noticeable by the large, silver buckle. A western-style shirt with the sleeves cut off stretched across an impressive expanse of chest, and a cocky smile graced his face. His eyes were shaded with a pair of mirrored, aviator sunglasses, and soft-looking, dark curls peeked out beneath his straw cowboy hat.
Lordy. Any sex-starved woman in their right mind would be interested in that. Wait! That's me! The sex-starved part, anyway. Fingers touched her bottom lip, just to make sure she wasn't drooling. What woman would be crazy enough to let him out of her sight? He was one hell of a man in one hell of a sexy package.
The man slammed the truck door and swaggered toward her with a roll of his hips and the walk of a man confident in his sex appeal. “Mrs. Skolack?”
Breathe, Ann Marie, breathe.
“Yes?”
“I’m Travis Brooks.”
"Welcome to the Double S."
“Is your husband home?”
“My husband died over seven months ago, Mr. Brooks.”
Whipping the hat off his head, he clenched it in his fist as a frown marred his features. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“He left this earth doing what he loved.”
He dropped his gaze to the ground at his feet, giving her a clear view of thick, wavy black hair with no sign of gray anywhere. “Yes, ma’am.”
Manners. I like that.
“Would you care to come inside? It’s warm out here and I just made some lemonade.”
“Much obliged. It's gonna be a scorcher today.”
“Afraid so.”
When his tanned hand held the screen door, she noticed the clean, short fingernails, calluses on his palms, probably from holding reins, and no wedding ring. His better than six-foot frame towered over her five-foot-five, but she could still feel his warmth of his breath on her neck.
“You aren’t from around here, are you, Mr. Brooks.”
“No, ma’am.”
Her steps took her toward the kitchen, and she had to chuckle at his formality. “Call me Ann Marie. Ma’am makes me feel old, and I can’t be much older than you, if at all. Besides, if you’re going to be working for me, we should try to be friends.”
Sensing he no longer followed, she turned to find him still standing next to the screen door, hat in hand and sunglasses dangling from his fingertips. Blue eyes the color of the sky stared back.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Brooks?”
“I won’t work for a woman.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, but if there ain’t a man around here, I can’t take the position.”
She cocked her head to the side and planted her hands on her hips. “Let me get this straight. Because I don’t have a husband, you refuse to do the job.”
Pulling his shoulders back, he straightened to his full, impressive height. “That’s right.”
“Well, if that’s not the most arrogant, self-righteous, stubborn, pig-headed, chauvinistic thing I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you a man of your word, Mr. Brooks?”
“Of course.”
“Well then, you have no choice but to work for me. You agreed to the job, and the ad said what the job entailed. To break and train my horses for a period of six months.”
“But I didn’t know you were a woman out here alone.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“Women need a man to take care of them. They shouldn’t be running a ranch.”
“Even though it’s none of your business, let me explain something to you. My husband and I ran this place together. Never once was it his job to take care of the ranch and mine to cook, clean, and bear children. We shared in the responsibilities of our home, and I’m very capable of handling it on my own.” Her steps took her back in front of him so they stood toe-to-toe. “I have lived my entire life around horses and cattle. I can ride and rope better than most men. If it weren’t almost a hundred degrees outside, I’d show you. We can go to court if you so choose, Mr. Brooks, in order for the verbal contract we have to be enforced, but I don’t think you want to do that. Am I correct?” Her foot tapped with an aggravated tempo, and her breaths came out in angry bursts.
His eyes narrowed into irritated slits and a nervous tick appeared in his jaw. “No.”
“Good. Then we have an agreement.” She turned back toward the kitchen, expecting him to follow. “A room in the barn has been set aside for your use, or you may stay in the bunkhouse with the other hands. Makes no never mind to me. Meals are provided each morning and evening. You will have the weekends to yourself. I don’t tolerate the men coming home drunk, and they know this. If you plan on drinking until you can’t walk — stay in town.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The cabinet door to the left of the large farm sink revealed several rows of cups. Grabbing two, her next stop was the freezer for ice.
“The men call me Ann Marie. Most have been here from before John and I married. They are loyal and protective.” Once she handed him one of the glasses of lemonade, she moved toward the dining room table. “Take a chair, Mr. Brooks.”
“Since you’ve managed to wrangle me into staying against my better judgment — call me Travis.”
“All right, Travis. Where do you call home these days? I've done my homework and know where you grew up, but do you have a permanent house somewhere?”
He tipped his drink to his lips and swallowed several big gulps. The movement of his throat mesmerized her as she watched each time the liquid go down. Dark whiskers shadowed his jaw, and the insane urge to feel them scrape against her skin made her nipples pucker. She took several sips of her own in a vain attempt to squelch the heat racing through her. The sweet, cold liquid slid down her throat, quenching her thirst, but not the hunger in her blood.
“Amarillo.”
“Do you go from place to place, training horses?”
“It’s my job.”
“And you’re good, from what I’ve heard.”
“The best.”

Adult Excerpt

"Ann Marie, don't."
"Don't what? Want you? I can't help that either." Fingers gripped his shirt front and she tugged him closer. "You make me feel things I never knew existed. You make my belly quiver and flutter like a million butterflies are loose in there. After you left me in the kitchen several weeks ago, I wanted nothing more than to follow you into the barn."
"You need a husband—I can't be that."
"Right now, I don't need a husband—I need a man. I need someone to take care of this gnawing ache I have to be held, caressed and filled until I come so hard, I can't breathe. John never did that for me. Can you? Can you be the man I need right now? I'm not asking for promises, Travis."
"Aw, fuck," he growled, his dick so hard behind the fly of his jeans, he thought he'd explode from need.
With one quick swoop, he scooped her up in his arms and moved toward the front screen door. It opened with a sharp tug.
The stairs loomed in front of him, and he took them two at a time.
"Where?" he asked with a tortured groan.
"Last door on the right." Her lips pressed against his neck.
God, she has me on fire.
In seconds, he laid her gently across the large bed and followed her down.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked.
"If it's anything like what I'm feeling right now, yeah, I have an idea." Fingertips trailed up his back and then tangled in the hair at his nape. "Did you lock the door?"
"Shit. No." He rolled off and stumbled toward the door as she giggled softly behind him.
"We don't want Ty walking in."
"Isn't he gone?" He stopped at the side of the bed, his hands coming to an abrupt halt at his waist instead of finishing stripping off his shirt. At this moment, he wanted to do nothing more than feel her skin, strip her of every piece of clothing she had on and bury his cock inside her.
"Yeah, but you never know with him if he'll come back in the middle of the day." She kneeled on the bed and reached for his belt loop. "Come here." Her fingers made quick work of the rest of his shirt. He almost came apart as her lips touched his chest. Her tongue grazed his nipple, bringing it to an aching point, and he growled low in his throat. Soft hands slid up and then back down his spine.
He wound his hands in her hair, twisting the strands around his fingers.
"Darlin'. What you do to me. You're driving me crazy."
Her eyes met his and he could see the heat raging through her, by the fire in her gaze. "Good. Now you know how I've felt since you drove up to the house, all male in your cowboy boots and Wranglers."
Forcing her back, he followed her onto the bed, kissing his way from her fingertips, up her arm to her shoulder, along her neck, nipping at her earlobe, and then stopping a mere hairsbreadth from her mouth.
"You're about the sexiest woman I've been around in a long time. God, I want you so bad, I hurt."
"I'm glad I'm not alone."
The lips that softened under his were kissable and tasted like heaven. A low moan escaped from her mouth. His tongue delved into the silky depths. Tongues stroked, licked and explored. He tore his mouth from hers and skimmed across her cheek to her ear.” You've got too many clothes on, darlin'."
"Mmm…'pears to be a mutual problem there, cowboy."
He nipped at the soft skin below her ear while one hand tugged at the bottom of her cotton shirt. Women with curves, all soft and warm, tied him up in knots. He didn't care much for the stick thin kind of a girl. Plump breasts, nice ass, curvy hips, she had everything he needed and then some.
Callused fingers danced up her stomach, and she moaned.
"Sorry about the roughness," he murmured.
She grasped his face between her palms and looked into his eyes. "Don't you be sorry about having working hands. I love a man who works hard for a living, and calluses are your brand. They feel fantastic on my skin." With her pupils dilated like they were, he could almost believe she had the same desire for him he had for her.
She sat up, whipped the shirt over her head and unsnapped her bra. In nothing flat, she flipped them off the bed, reclined against the pillows and tempted him with a smile.
Damn, she's got pretty titties. Dusky areolas, nipples puckered, and waiting for his tongue, begging for his mouth, quivered slightly when she took a deep breath. He palmed the right one and smiled when she sucked in a ragged breath. "Lordy, you're beautiful."
"I want your mouth, Travis."
"My pleasure, darlin'." Lips replaced his hand, sucking the hardened bud into his mouth. One palm rasped over the other breast and then rolled the nipple between his fingers.
Two hands grasped the back of his head and held him in place while he tongued first one breast then the other.
The button on her jeans gave to his insistent fingers. Parting the edges, he slipped under the elastic of her underwear to slide through the nest of curls guarding the spot he wanted.
An almost inhuman sound came from her mouth as one finger touched her clit. Her hips lifted in time to the movement of his fingers
Did her husband never give her pleasure? Didn't he care whether she enjoyed sex or not?
"Please, Travis," she begged, her head tossing from side to side on the pillow.
The low whimper of need coming from her pleased him. He left her side for a second to remove her pants and toss them across the room. His shirt and jeans followed hers.
The silkiness of her flesh on his hair-roughened skin almost sent him over the top, but the look on her face, the dazed, heavy eyes, had him harder than he'd ever been in his life. The scent of arousal in the air, her need, drove him past the point of reason.