Devil in Texas (Rugged and Risque 1)

Her very first wicked grin teased her lips at the endless possibilities suddenly running rampant through her mind. Visions of naked limbs tangled together and body parts joined flashed in her head. Her moans of ecstasy mingled with his groans of pleasure. Oh yes… He was definitely a delicacy she wanted to sample!

The Devil returned and set the frost-covered pilsner in front of her. She eyed the half-inch of frothy head and the small slivers of ice that slid down the outside of the glass, suddenly realizing how hot she was. And the reason for her escalating internal temperature had nothing to do with being down south in the middle of summer.

She shifted on her stool, feeling uncomfortable in a sexy, tingly way. The bartender’s half-assed grin and the sensual gleam in his ultra-blue eyes, which were fringed by sooty lashes, did the most titillating things to her inner thighs. A sizzling sensation mingled with the slightest quivering of her flesh, as though his fingers had just skimmed over that highly sensitive part of her body. Making her even hotter.

As she reached for the cold glass, the sexy cowboy asked, “So how about that shot?”

“What about it?” She’d forgotten that part of her drink order, because she was totally lost in thought over how her body responded to him. Savoring how her body responded to him.

“What kind of shot do you want, darlin’?” The glimmer in his eyes told her he found her amusing. The slow, easy tipping of his full mouth was as sinful-looking as his perfect ass. When his grin deepened, a sigh-worthy dimple made the left cheek up top as appealing as the one she wanted to take a nip at.

People magazine could call off their search for the Sexiest Man Alive. She’d found him in Hill Country. He was a tall, cool glass of water at the end of a twenty-mile trek through the desert…and this girl was parched!

Taking another sip to douse the flames flickering at every erogenous zone she hadn’t even known she possessed—because no one had ever bothered to help her discover them—Elizabeth waded through the lust-induced haze clouding her mind.

Searching for an impressive liquor selection, she recalled her father’s tequila preference. “Make it Patrón.” Her voice still sounded as breathless as she felt, not helping her plight to appear calm and collected.

The Devil either didn’t know what to make of her selection or her Marilyn Monroe tone. He studied her a moment longer as though trying to figure her out. His gaze swept over her in a slow, almost predatory way that once again made her thighs ignite. His roving eyes halted at the deep vee in the bodice of her clingy dress. The neckline dipped low and there was plenty of cleavage front and center for his viewing pleasure.

Good call on the dress, girlfriend. The push-up pads were clearly a worthwhile investment as well. Though, she wouldn’t be surprised if her rock-hard nipples tented the flimsy material of her bra and dress.

When the Devil’s gaze returned to her face, there was no missing the heated interest that flared again in the deep blue irises she’d dream about for weeks to come. Global warming had nothing on this guy. He could single-handedly melt the glaciers of Antarctica with his ultra-hot gaze.

Finally tearing his eyes from her, he reached for a bottle, filling the glass he’d just cleaned. “Shaker of salt an’ a slice of lime,” he said as he served up both with her shot.

His voice was a bit rougher this time. As though his visual assessment of her generated the same excitement she’d experienced when she’d sized him up earlier. The same excitement that continued to course through every inch of her, keeping her super-charged from head to toe. She wondered if his cock responded to her as quickly and easily as her cunt reacted to every flirtatious gaze he shot her way. Hard to tell when he stepped closer to the bar, effectively concealing that part of his body.

But his strained tone was a good indication she turned him on. That rough voice was just as sexy as the playful one and she mentally recorded both for future fantasy usage. If she didn’t succeed in hooking up with him this evening, at least she could conjure the image of his hotter than hell body and the sound of his erotically stirring voice to relieve some tension and get her through the night. He wouldn’t be whispering sweet nothings in her ear, either. No, siree. When she fantasized about this man, he’d be talking dirty to her.

Considering how aroused she was, a few naughty suggestions coming from him would have her coming in a flash.

With slightly shaky fingers, she sprinkled salt on her hand, then reached for the lime he’d provided, speared by a red plastic sword, the hilt and tip balancing on the rim of the shot glass. He stepped away as she contemplated the liquor while still thinking about that hot and sweaty sex she was dying to have.

The sexy cowboy moved along the bar to make small talk with the other patrons and pour fresh cocktails for them while she took a moment to steel herself for a huge shock to the system. Elizabeth downed the shot, wincing at the slow burn in her throat and belly. It took several seconds to compose herself. Not just from the alcohol, but from the fiery sensations the Devil evoked. All with a seductive look and an arousing voice that kept an inferno of lust and longing raging inside her.

The gent to her left gave her a knowing smile and she realized it was damn obvious to everyone in the saloon she wasn’t a tequila drinker. And that she was on a manhunt. Kind of embarrassing to be so transparent, but as her gaze swept over the crowd, she noted a few other women who appeared to be on a similar mission. Some even gave her the evil eye.

Because the ultra-hot bartender had taken an interest in her? If so, it was a small victory she desperately needed to help repair her damaged ego, so she didn’t feel the least bit guilty over nabbing his attention.

While the Devil continued to make the rounds further down the bar, Elizabeth took the opportunity to whip out a small compact from her purse and check her appearance. She quickly fluffed the shoulder-length chestnut curls and lamented the fact she was due for new highlights. Nothing to be done about that tonight, though, so she moved on to her makeup, still looking as fresh as when she’d applied it earlier in the evening. The scarlet lipstick was a nice touch for the vixen look she’d been hoping to achieve. The black liner was a bit thicker than normal around her bright green eyes, but again, it fit the persona she’d adopted for the evening.

Besides, if his first comment to her was any indication, the devilish bartender liked her eyes as much as he seemed to like her legs and breasts. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that her lackluster love life had led her to the neighborhood gym on a regular basis to relieve her tension—not having the quality fantasy material she now possessed to help get the job done.

Hell, she’d probably look like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model today if she’d devoted even more time to a personal trainer rather than wasting her evenings hosting Peter’s cocktail parties and letting him parade her around town like a prized science experiment. Or a trained monkey, take your pick. Sad to discover her only purpose in his life had been arm candy to help advance his career and perpetuate the façade with his colleagues that he was actually a faithful heterosexual.

But why dwell on the Asshole when she had the Devil to focus on?

Satisfied everything was still in place on her face, she snapped the compact closed and returned her attention to the man who’d garnered it since she’d walked into t

he joint. He swaggered back toward her as if she was a magnet and he was steel. A river of fire flowed through her veins as he descended upon her.

He eyed her empty glass and she gave a slight nod of her head, indicating she wanted another shot.

She reached into the far recesses of her mind for something flirty and fun to say as the hot-’n-hunky bartender served her tequila. He then rested his forearms on the bar and leaned toward her, saving her from a tedious brain search.

“Just passing through town or are you settling in?” His tone was back to the low, intimate, sensual drawl that oozed down her spine like warm honey. The way he spoke to her while gazing deep into her eyes….good Lord, they may as well be lovers already!

Reaching for the salt shaker sitting next to the second shot the Devil had poured, she contemplated his question. Not too many people would do what she’d just done—ditch an entire life on a whim. In fact, Elizabeth was still shocked she’d pulled such an impulsive and brazen move. But she’d needed a break from her stifling, oppressive reality. Once she’d kicked up some dust and lived a little, she’d decide how permanent her escape was.