Tasty Treats, Volume 1

Knowing even as she punched in the numbers that she would most likely just end up at a bar with her friend, drink two pineapple and rum mixers, get sleepy, pass out and then wake up tomorrow wondering what she had been thinking the night before. She still punched the numbers.

"Hey, Rachel." Hailey answered her cell on the third ring. She shouted out the greeting to be heard over the chaos in the background.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at some stupid-ass bonfire playing an even more moronic and juvenile trick on some very large and likely to be pissed of men."

Oh, a bonfire.

"I swear to God, Rachel. You know I love Patton. I really do, like a sister, but I cannot wait until she either goes back to Atlanta or those Davis brothers put a stop to all this insanity."

I wonder where this bonfire is.

"As if it isn't bad enough she seems determined to piss off Chase. Now she's run off with Cole Jackson. Cole Jackson! It just boggles the mind why of all the men she chose that—"

"How come you didn't invite me to this bonfire?"

"Huh?"

"I might have wanted to go."

"Why? I don't even want to be here. This place is a meat market. It's full of oversized, egomaniacal, wannabe studs and a bunch of barely-dressed, half-witted bimbos. Nobody is looking for anything more than a goodtime."

"I like a goodtime."

There was a pause before Hailey spoke again. "Are you all right, Rachel?"

"I'm fine. Just a little insulted that you didn't invite me to the party."

"Ah, man. You're having one of those 'I'm boring' moments again, aren't you?"

"I am not. I'm just saying I like parties."

"You wouldn't like this one and even if I had invited you, you couldn't have gotten in. It was invitation only and Patton got me in."

"Invitation only? Pittsview has those kinds of parties?"

"It's a Cattlemen's Club event and, trust me, you'd be surprised at what kind of party this is."

Cattlemen's Club?

There were rumors, big, juicy rumors about that particular club. Hailey's voice faded out as Rachel began to envision all the possibilities.

A bonfire means they're outside.

Outside meant exposed. Exposed led to exposés on the front cover of Pittsview Press. Hell, it could even be picked up by some of the larger newspapers in Alabama just because of the shock factor. From Alabama to the national news, she might even end up on one of the cable networks being interviewed for her story. Then, hello New York Times!

"Rachel?"

"Huh?"

"I said, I got to go. We'll have to do your two-depression-drinks night-out tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, sure whatever. Hey, Hailey, just out of curiosity, are you at the Cattlemen's Club?"

"What?"

"I'm just asking."

"No, you're not. Don't even think about it, Rachel."

"About what?"

"About coming out here and trying to get into this party."

"I'm not going to."

"I know you're in the middle of one of your little pity-fests and you're probably at that point where you think having a man is going to solve your problems, but, trust me, none of these men will."

"Relax, Hailey. I was just curious."

"Yeah, right. Don't even try it, Rachel. They not only have guards at the gate, but according to Cole they have surveillance all around the party to assure nobody who isn't invited gets in."

They protect something that much and you know they have something good going on.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Don't."

"I'm going let you get back to whatever Patton has you doing now."

"Rachel—"

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Damnit!"

Rachel smiled as she hung up on Hailey cursing. She could smell the story before her nose. It was big, juicy and guarded. It sounded like an adventure awaited her tonight after all.

RIDING LESSONS by Eve Adams


 

"You plan on moving up, ma'am? Or did you find something more interesting in that garbage?" A male voice sounded behind her. His rich baritone and sexy country drawl had her toes curling before she had a chance to whip around. When she did, the tabloid slipped from her fingers, onto the floor, and she let out a slow breath.

Oh, wow. A real, live cowboy.

He had hair the color of rich coffee and cinnamon eyes that bore straight into her soul. Plaid shirt, dirty jeans, and worn cowboy boots. It just didn't get any better. When she eyed the sweat stained cowboy hat on top of his perfect head, she let out an audible sigh. The tingle started deep in her toes and traveled to her nipples, settled there long enough for them to become erect and uncomfortably hard, and then rested deep in the center of her womb.

"Ma'am?"

Leah blinked out of her lust-induced trance. "Yes?"

"It's your turn."

"For what?" she purred. She wanted to jump into his arms and kiss him until they both gasped for air. She wanted to lick his cute little ear. Or maybe nip at that handsomely arrogant, square jaw covered in a dusting of whiskers. Anything to get him to wrap those enormous hands around her and crush her body to his.

"What did you have in mind?"

"What are you offering?" Did she really just say that out loud? And in front of the dozens of people that lived in this town?

That curl of his sensual lips had her licking hers in return. Kiss me. I dare you. His gaze finally left hers to study the groceries in her basket and she drew it a gulp of air. "Let's see. You have the makin's of garlic bread," he drawled in that sexy, slow country way that made a girl hot and crazy in all the right ways. "Wine, which don't get far 'round here. We prefer a good cold brew over any wine."

"Why's that?" she asked, breathless to hear his voice again. Leaning in, she stepped on the tabloid as she moved closer. Never had she been this sexually charged and drawn to another person as she was to Mr. Cowboy.

"Look around, darlin'. This here is wheat and barley country. Ain't no grapes." He licked his lower lip as he eyed hers, and then sucked his in between perfectly white teeth.

"I like wine," she stated, ignoring the way the sound of his voice sent shocks of erotic energy shooting through her system, centering in on her already quivering channel. Her want for this cowboy pooled in liquid desire as the lips of her pussy drenched with her own juices.

He grabbed her meal-in-a-bag and held it up for them both to see. He then cocked a dark brow as he teased her with a devastating look. "Italian? In a bag?"

She shrugged, the heat of her embarrassment warming her cheeks. Still, she refused to look away. The man was pure perfection, and Leah didn't know when she'd ever get to feast her eyes or any other part of her on something so mouthwatering again. "It's microwavable. Besides, I don't cook much."

He set the bag down, only to pick up the box of frozen waffles. Eyeing her again, he smiled and she couldn't help but smile in return. "Obviously."

The sudden need to busy herself overtook her other senses and she started scouring the tiny display next to the checkout stand. Spotting a toothbrush, she grabbed it and wrapped her fingers around it so tight her knuckles turned white.

"Have the sudden need to clean your teeth?"

Why did this man make her feel so uncomfortable, so frazzled and heated? She started to breathe in short, shallow gasps. He made her feel dizzy, like she was about three feet above the ground. She loved the feeling and hated it all at the same time. "I like a fresh mouth. And you shouldn't neglect your teeth."

"Your mouth looks downright edible to me." He flashed that damned crooked smile that already had her weak in the knees. That wicked glimmer in his eyes had her ready to agree to whatever else he wanted to eat.

What the hell?