Cowboy Untamed. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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Cowboy Untamed - Vicki Lewis Thompson Mills & Boon Blaze

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a lot of heat. You can head home to catch up on paperwork but that’s not going to change anything.”

      “Maybe not.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and clutched her keys as a reminder that she was leaving. Just because he thought her surrender was inevitable, didn’t mean he was right. But she could feel that heat he was talking about melting her resistance. “I need to go.” She started to turn away.

      “Hang on for a second.” He lightly touched her arm.

      The contact sent fire through her veins. “What for?” She turned back to him and saw the intent before he spoke the words.

      “A kiss.”

      “No, that would be—”

      “Only fair. I’ve been imagining kissing you ever since I drove away three weeks ago. If you don’t want to take it beyond that point, I’ll abide by that decision.” He smiled. “What’s one little kiss?”

      A mistake. “I guess that would be okay.”

      “Not a very romantic answer.” He drew her into his arms and lowered his head. “But good enough.”

      The velvet caress of his mouth was every bit as spectacular as she’d imagined. If she stuck to her guns, this would never happen again, so it seemed criminal to waste a single second of kissing Grady Magee. She hugged him close as he worked his magic. She’d figured the man could kiss, but she hadn’t known the half of it. He started slow, tormenting her with gentle touches that made her ache for more.

      When he finally settled in, she opened to him greedily, desperately wanting the stroke of his tongue. Kissing him was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid, but when he cupped her bottom and drew her against the hard ridge of his cock, she forgot why she’d been so reluctant.

      Wouldn’t a woman have to be crazy to reject this man? Wrapped in his strong arms and teased with his hot kisses, she craved the pleasure he promised.

      Taking his mouth from hers, he continued to knead her bottom with his strong fingers. “Still think we should nip this thing in the bud?”

      Speaking of nipping...she wouldn’t mind some of that, too. She gulped. “You’ve paralyzed my brain.”

      “Good.” His mouth hovered over hers. “Maybe you think too much.” And he delved deep again as he coaxed her to respond.

      She didn’t need much coaxing. With a low moan, she slid her arms around his neck and arched against his solid body. He answered with a low growl of pleasure and locked her in tight. She’d completely lost her mind.

      In no time she’d thrust her tongue into his mouth. Somehow her hands moved from around his neck down to his firm butt cheeks. When his muscles flexed, she whimpered in frustration. There was only so much that could happen in the shadow of Scruffy’s Bar and they’d reached the limit.

      Breathing hard, he lifted his mouth a fraction from hers. “Okay, we’re stopping now. But this isn’t over.”

      She was incapable of speech, let alone an argument on that point.

      Slowly he released her and backed away. “What time are you opening up tomorrow?”

      She swallowed and frantically tried to remember. It finally came to her. “Seven.”

      “I’ll be there. Take care, Sapphire.” He touched the brim of his hat.

      She turned and fled. If she didn’t get out of there, she was liable to hurl herself back into his arms. Tomorrow she’d be stronger.

      * * *

      AFTER GRADY FINISHED his sandwich and beer at Scruffy’s, he headed over to Ben and Molly’s place. Although it seemed strange to be with them instead of at Thunder Mountain Ranch, they soon made him feel right at home. He had a chance to admire Ben’s new saddle shop adjacent to the house and talk with Molly about her teaching job at Sheridan Community College and her curriculum planning for Thunder Mountain Academy. He also made friends with their golden Lab.

      He found out from Ben and Molly that the charity benefiting from Sapphire’s art event was the Fabulous Felines Cat Shelter. Fortunately, he was able to discuss the event and its organizer without letting his thoughts drift to that explosive kiss. But once he bid them good-night and stretched out on their comfy guest bed, he could think of nothing else. Holding her had been even more perfect than he’d imagined.

      They fit together as if designed for the passionate lovemaking she claimed they shouldn’t have. Her soft breasts, her perfectly rounded ass and her supple lips taunted him relentlessly as he lay aroused and sweaty in the Radcliffes’ guest room.

      Maybe she really believed that getting involved would compromise their working relationship this week, but he hoped to change her mind. He fell asleep thinking of all the ways he could do that. Kissing would be a major part of the plan.

      The next morning he dressed in his old scuffed boots, well-worn jeans and a faded chambray shirt. Leaving the black dress hat on the dresser, he picked up his everyday brown Stetson and left the Radcliffes’ house after politely declining breakfast. They’d offered to fix him some, but that would have made him late.

      He figured she’d be feeding the cats at seven. Ben and Molly had called it a feral cat colony. Although he wasn’t familiar with the term, he could figure it out. The cats living in the woods weren’t completely civilized, but they weren’t completely antisocial, either. He could relate to that. There were times he longed to retreat into his studio and never come out. Other times he craved human companionship.

      He wondered if other artists felt the same. This week would be a great time to find out if he was crazy or not. He was very different from his brother, a guide for white-water rafting trips. Liam was extremely social and even after all these years didn’t totally understand Grady’s need for solitude.

      Dew sparkled on the grass when he pulled into the Art Barn parking lot a good thirty minutes early. Sapphire’s purple truck wasn’t there, so he sat with the windows rolled down and waited. The air smelled great and he wondered how often these days he took the time to simply be.

      The sudden fame had taken him by surprise. Within a year he’d gone from living a somewhat solitary life in Alaska to being the darling of the Western art world. He was a beer-and-barbecue guy thrown into a champagne-and-caviar crowd and he still didn’t quite have his footing. Being in Sheridan for this fund-raiser offered him the small-town ambiance he liked, maybe even needed.

      Sapphire drove in and his body tightened. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this much. Maybe her reluctance to become involved with him played a part in that—the old forbidden-fruit ploy.

      Because she didn’t know him that well yet, she might be worried that he’d take off if the two of them had a spat. Raising money for the shelter was very important to her and she wouldn’t want to jeopardize that. He wasn’t sure how to convince her that he wasn’t the kind of selfish SOB who would ruin her cherished event because they weren’t getting along. Besides, they would get along. Oh, yeah, they certainly would.

      Grabbing his water jug for later, he left his truck and closed the door with a minimum of noise. This time of the morning, traffic was light on the road that ran past the Art Barn, so birds chirping and warbling provided the only soundtrack. He liked sharing this peaceful setting with her.

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