Heat

“Janie,” he grunts. “Fuck me now. I have to be inside you.”

“Yes,” I whisper, and climb on top of him. I lower myself onto his hard shaft, each inch stretching and filling me until I’m whole with him. “I love you,” I breathe as he bucks softly inside me. Our eyes meet and he quickens his pace until we’re both sweating, contorted, crying out. When he’s ready to come, he lifts me with his hands and slides me down his cock slowly and tantalizingly until he shoots inside, and the warm wetness fills me over and over and I come around his cock.

It’s as close as I’ve felt to another human being.

”I love you, Janie, you know that?” His eyes search mine, intent and grave. “Never forget that. And I’m going to do everything I can to earn your love for keeps.”

“You have it,” I say, and slide off him to occupy the space beside him on the bed. “You’re my husband now.”

His eyes close and he touches my skin softly, running his hand along my arm and side. My skin gathers to his touch, goosebumps rising as he strokes me.

As we lay there in the afterglow I wonder about my mother again.

“I wonder where George was?” I say. “I didn’t want to ask mom at the wedding.”

“Yeah he didn’t make it, did he?” He turns his head to look at me.

“You didn’t do anything, did you?” I ask suddenly.

He laughs. “No. But it’s still a good thing, right? In fact, maybe we should offer your mother one of the guest houses so she’s not so dependent on George in the first place.”

My heart leaps. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course!” he says. “I want you to be happy, and when you worry about her, you’re not. If we have her close, with a good security system—”

“And a support system,” I interrupt.

“Yes, and a support system,” he says, “she’ll know that she’s not at the mercy of a guy like George. And she can get all the care she needs.”

I snuggle close to him. “I knew deep down you were the man for me,” I say. I breathe in his scent, filling my nose with him, and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making my life complete,” he answers softly, and I feel ready to take on the world.

Excerpt from Bucked by Jess Bentley

Chastity

“Howdy ma’am, I think you dropped something.”

The hand that holds out the small piece of paper is strong, tanned, veiny. Long-fingered. My eyes trail across the muscular forearm, the rolled-up sleeves straining over strong biceps and broad shoulders, and settle on a pair of dark eyes. They flash, framed by a fringe of dark eyelashes underneath the shade of a black cowboy hat. I’m momentarily speechless, struck by their fierce intensity.

I force myself to rip my eyes away. That’s the last thing I need, a gorgeous man holding out a gorgeous hand to me. I take the paper, and glance at it quickly. It’s a receipt. And of course, it’s for tequila. I can feel the blush beginning in my neck and crawling up my cheeks. I hope he didn’t look at it. Gah.

“Thanks,” I say q

uickly, sneaking another look at him. The strong jaw, the collar open at the neck, just the beginning of bronzed pecs, all are tempting my eye to explore further.

“Why, you’re very welcome,” he says, his southern accent dripping like honey.

I’m not sure what to say. The way he’s looking at me right now, expectantly, intently, I can tell he wants something. Something I’m not sure I can give anymore. Or ever again. It’s the last thing I want, to engage with such a man. And besides that, there’s danger behind that sweet voice. Behind those gorgeous eyes. Something dark. I can tell, because I’ve got my own darkness. I keep it hidden as much as possible. But there are some things you just can’t hide. Takes one to know one, is what they say, and it’s true.

He clears his throat, touches me lightly on the shoulder, and says, “Well, you have a nice day now.”

The touch shouldn’t affect me, but it does. I want more, but at the same time I want to get away from him as fast as I can.

“Thanks, you as well.” I start to walk away, but then he grabs my arm lightly. His fingers electrify me, like touching a live wire.

“You’re not from around here are you?” His eyelids lower slightly and he flicks them open to move over my body, then back to my eyes. It’s a lazy look, and an entitled one. I should be mad. But I’m not. Damn men like him. Men with slow grins, revealing perfect rows of dangerous white teeth.