Devil in Texas (Rugged and Risque 1)

Her prospective one-night stand didn’t need to know about the debacle that was her life, so she simply said, “I’m renting a cottage on the lake for a few weeks while I make up my mind.”

“Well, then. Welcome to Wilder, darlin’.” His tone and the wicked glint in his eyes seemed to suggest he knew something she didn’t.

Suppressing a sigh of longing—the man really was too sinfully hot for words—she made a big production out of wetting the crook of her hand between her thumb and forefinger. Her tongue darted out and touched the skin. She coyly shot him a look to see if she’d evoked a physical response. His jaw clenched for a brief moment and she gloated inwardly. Sprinkling a little salt on her damp flesh, she then licked her skin in one slow stroke, like she intended to do to his cock if they ever got that far. Finally, she slammed the shot and reached for the lime, sucking it hard.

She heard a low groan slip from his parted lips. In fact, his voice was gruff again as he asked, “So, where are you from, sweetheart?”

“I’m sure you only need one guess,” she said as she tossed the drained lime into the empty glass. Though she didn’t have much of a New York accent—likely her father’s influence—her cosmopolitan look, including her Dolce & Gabbana dress and accessories, had to be a dead giveaway.

The Devil’s eyes slid over her once more and a cocky grin lifted one corner of his sexy mouth. Which she really wanted to kiss. “Minot, North Dakota?” he ventured with a wink.

She laughed as he poured tequila in a new glass. Sexy and witty—what a combination! The dimple was just plain overkill, but she loved it anyway. Truly, there was nothing fair about this man. He didn’t leave a dry thong in his wake. Could’ve made Mother Teresa wet, she was sure.

“Few states to the east,” Elizabeth said. “Born and raised in Manhattan. Though I should get credit for having Texas in the blood. My father was from Austin.”

He nodded, the dimple still showing. His eyes, however, took on a more subdued glow. “Was?”

Perceptive of him to pick up on that. “He died about ten years ago,” she said. “Plane crash. The reason I drive, not fly.” She swallowed down her third shot, then toyed with the empty glass, knowing she’d already had too much to drink, but suddenly wanting another one, given the subject matter. She resisted the urge, though, and the Devil helped to minimize her inevitable hangover by not offering a refill.

“So you were headed there and ended up here?”

A slight shake of her head. “Not so much.”

How kooky would it sound if she told him the truth? She gave this some thought, then conceded that she was enjoying the conversation, so why not keep it real?

Admittedly, though, her explanation sounded crazy to her own ears as she said, “I pinned a mammoth map of Texas to my office wall and threw a dart at it.” Vowing she’d give whatever town she hit a try. “So here I am.”

“Interesting,” he said, though not in a patronizing way. More as if he understood the importance of her spontaneity, her need for a clean break.

But, of course, that was impossible. Even she hadn’t processed what she’d just done.

“You know, darlin’, sometimes Fate deals an unexpected hand.”

“And forces us to make something of it?”

His beautiful blue irises sparkled as his eyes crinkled around the edges. “Hold ‘em or fold ‘em. It’s up to you.”

How true. And how funny that she could feel lighthearted, unsettled and turned-on all at the same time. It was a curious mixture of sensations that left her a bit on edge, but which also made her body hum with a new energy she’d not felt before. As if she was on the verge of a significant precipice—a new discovery of herself. A new existence with limitless opportunities because, this time around, she wouldn’t let anyone dictate what she did and how she did it. Henceforth, she was taking complete responsibility for herself. No man—and certainly not her mother—would influence her decisions to their self-serving benefit.

“Looks like you’re done here,” the hot bartender said as he whisked away the discarded glasses. “Unless you want one more for last call,” he added with another wink, indicating he already knew her answer.

“Think I’ve hit my quota.”

“Then you’re gonna need a ride home.”

The independent, responsible Elizabeth her mother had drilled into her since birth caused her to automatically reach for the cell phone in her purse and hold it up. “Got the number to the cab company on speed dial.”

As the words spewed forth from her mouth, she realized her colossal mistake. She’d just declined the invitation she’d been angling for tonight.

Damn! I really do suck at this!

The disappointment that flickered in the Devil’s eyes made her consider amending her statement. Ask if he was offering to take her home, so she could accept. God, how she wanted to feel this man’s hands on her body and his cock in her wet cunt. It was more than an unwavering desire. It was an unrelenting craving!

But her rejection stood between them, as though scrawled across a wall in big red letters. The next thing she knew, he was turning away to get the check.

Fuck!

She paid the bill while contemplating a way to reengage the sexy cowboy. She’d blown it badly, she knew. But hitting on a man—particularly one who promised instant sexual gratification with just a wink and a smile—clearly wasn’t her forte. And any attempt to rectify the situation would make her look desperate. She may not have a life anymore, but damn it, she still had a shred of dignity left. She clung to the last vestiges of her pride with all her might because, in the grand scheme of things, it was all she had.