Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

This wasn’t about right or wrong anymore. This was about living, feeling like she wasn’t a step away from losing it altogether. With total certainty, she knew if she didn’t come into this bedroom tonight and experience this passion with Shep, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. Maybe that was passion, she speculated. It’s not something you waited for, it’s something you went after, even if it didn’t always make sense.

“Show me,” was all he said.

And yet even with those few words, she understood. There, in the heat and strength of his gaze, she found her freedom. Oddly, she trusted Shep. There was no making sense out of that since she knew her heart was still tender and bleeding. She’d already hit rock bottom; she had nothing to lose anymore. All she had to gain was to finally feel alive again, instead of feeling like she was breathing without fully living.

Keeping her gaze on the lust in his, she reached for the hem of her tank top then slowly lifted it over

her head, sending the fabric to the floor. The warm air brushed across her puckered nipples, her chest rising and falling quickly. His gaze was drawn there for a moment before he brought his attention to her face again. Her hands trembled when she tucked her fingers into her panties, pulling them off then kicking them side.

She thought she should feel nervous, maybe even embarrassed. None of that came, as his potent stare raked over her with a power that stole her breath. He didn’t examine her in a quick flash, glancing over all the important parts. He memorized every detail, every curve of her body, as if he was mapping out a plan of where he would kiss his way along her flesh.

“Turn around,” he murmured.

She slowly spun and smiled at his low groan.

There was a squeak from behind her, so she glanced over her shoulder, finding him sliding out of bed, completely nude. The light spilled in from the hallway, casting a warm glow over his muscular frame. He was big. And hard. Very hard. All of him. Every single inch. From his wide shoulders, to his squared chest, to the indents of his six-pack, to that V at his waist, all the way down to an impressive cock, Shep screamed man.

When he finally reached her, he tucked a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet the coiled power in his eyes. “Now tell me.”

Again, instinctively she knew what he asked of her. “I wanted you last night at the Spurs,” she said, breathless. “I also told myself not to, somehow forcing myself to believe that I shouldn’t want this. I know why—I’m hurting, and I can only imagine you can see that too.” His eyes softened a smidgen as she went on. “I’m sick of feeling bad, of feeling pain, of feeling sad. I want to feel happy. I want to remember what it’s like to be a woman. I want to feel alive again. I want to take my power back.”

He slid the warmth of his big hand across her cheek. “Just sex. That’s the deal?”

“That’s all I can give right now.”

The side of his mouth curved. “Then that’s all I’ll take.”

For now seemed to echo in the space between them, but the thought vanished immediately when his mouth found hers. She melted into his kiss, sliding her hands across his strong hips to his warm back. Every swipe of his tongue took her to somewhere new, touching on something undiscovered—a place where her fantasies lived.

Real. Raw. Slow and sensual, his mouth moved with hers, until he slid his hand against her lower back, pulling her in close and deepening the kiss. A wave of pleasure slid over her, pooling heat low in her body, causing her to throb uncomfortably, needing to be touched and teased. She ran a hand over his hard bottom, shivering at his guttural groan against her lips. He placed his knee between her thighs, and not even her shame could stop her from rubbing her clit against him, needing to feed this deep insatiable pleasure he brought out. His touch . . . his woodsy cologne . . . Her lust pulsated, growing wilder, driving her insane until she broke away, gasping.

His stare pinned her, intense and heated.

She gave a wicked smile of her own and pressed against his chest, sending him walking backward until he sat on the oak hope chest. When she climbed onto his lap, he grinned and asked, “Planning on fucking me, Ms. Monroe?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Condom?”

“Ah, darlin’, I’m in no hurry.” He pushed a little on her chest until she leaned back, resting her hands on his knees. Her lips parted to question him, but her breath stalled when his hands slid over her breasts, gently massaging until he squeezed her nipples. “Why would I be when I have this gorgeous body to play with?”

She moaned, tilting her head back as he pinched harder.

There was something in his touch that felt . . . different. More controlled, maybe. In the same way it had when he’d placed his ropes on her at the Spurs, something inside of her broke free. Call it a craving, or an awakening, but she knew instinctively that being with Shep wasn’t like being with anyone else. And the memory on her skin of his touch at the bar still burned. She couldn’t remember when she started grinding against him, but suddenly she noticed her hips moving when his hand came down to her clit.

She gasped and moaned, keeping her head tossed back, riding the pleasure. With each and every twirl of the sensitive bud, he brought more intensity. Pleasure became all she knew as she reached up, holding onto his neck as he kissed his way over her breasts, sucking one nipple up to the roof of his mouth then moving on to the other one. She arched her hips up, begging for more as he devoured her neck with the power of his kiss, slowly taking her pleasure into his hands.

When a wave of heat washed over her, loosening her jaw, she released a hand around his neck and placed hers overtop of his as he stroked her clit harder and faster. She dropped her head, unable to open her eyes. He sealed his mouth over hers, tonguing her in a perfect rhythm. Over and over again, he stroked her, and she ground herself against his fingers, relishing the euphoria being fed to her. She arched her back as her breathing deepened. Oh my, she was so close. She wanted him there too. His erection rested between her legs, and she reached for him, slowly closing her hand over his hardened length. He groaned deeply in her ear, making her tighten her fingers.

He backed away from her mouth, the power of his gaze locked onto her, and it was in that moment he slid his fingers down to her drenched slit, gathered up her moisture, then spread her arousal over his cock. His hand was gone, hers returned, and his gravelly moan made her inner thighs clench.

She became lost in the way he watched her. No, examined her. The exchange was more powerful than anything she’d ever known. As if she could trust him with everything, and he’d never let her fall. That she was precious, even. A gift that he planned to cherish.

Those thoughts quickened her strokes on his shaft, her unclosed hand gliding across his hard flesh, and his hand returned to her clit, soon following her rhythm. She moaned against the intensity, head falling back. He pressed harder against her clit, circling the bud wildly, feeding more and more pleasure until she broke wide open, shuddering and moaning against his fingers, riding the high she’d been offered. Wave after wave, she drowned in a perfect release.

Before she could even open her eyes, still lost in her quivering body, he rose with her in his arms. He tossed her onto the bed, facedown, her bare toes pressing against the cool hardwood floor.

She attempted to look at him. His hand came down on her back. “Stay right where you are, sweetheart.” He massaged one of her butt cheeks then the other, then boldly spread her open, looking at places no man had ever dared to view so blatantly. “I want to look at your fucking sexy body. You won’t refuse me, will you?”

“No.”