Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

“Do what?” she breathed.

“This.” Bran sealed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was warm and sweet. Thoroughly mind-blowing in a way that belied its tenderness. He didn’t touch her anywhere besides where their lips met, but Harper felt the kiss from head to toe, as if they were body to body, soul to soul, and completely naked. Lord have mercy—she’d fallen hard for this man.

He eased back, gifting her with his devilish grin. “If we don’t go now, I’ll be mighty tempted to lock the front door and test out one of them spinning chairs.”

Harper reached up and caressed his smooth face, ridiculously pleased that he’d shaved. Like this was a real date. “Your kisses make me dizzy enough that I don’t need a spinning chair.”

“You tryin’ to charm me so you can get into my pants later?”

“A girl can hope.” She smooched his smirking mouth. “Let’s go. I expect you’ll feed me in Rawlins so I can keep up my strength to seduce you.”

“I’ll buy you the biggest steak in town.”

Despite wearing a skirt, Harper slid next to Bran in his truck when he’d patted the empty middle space. Since she hadn’t dated much, and rarely cowboys even then, she’d never been the girl who’d scooted close to her honey in his big ol’ pickup truck and straddled the gearshift. At first she’d felt silly, but the hard muscle of Bran’s right leg pressing into hers and his strong arm across the back of the seat changed her mind. Everything about being with him, being this close to him, felt right.

As soon as they hit the outskirts of Rawlins, Bran said, “We’ve got to stop at Runnings.”

“What for?”

“I need some new gloves.”

So this had been an excuse to spend time with her off the ranch. She knew the man didn’t need gloves; he owned, like, twenty pairs. But she nodded and said, “I could use a new pair myself.”

The ranch supply store’s parking lot was empty. Harper turned to ask Bran if it was closed, and again, he was right in her face, lips on lips, his mouth controlling hers. His hand slid up her leg beneath her skirt and he teased her sex through her satin panties. He kept kissing her, kept stroking her, until she forgot about everything but the taste, the touch, and the scent of this man.

Bran pulled away. The look in his eyes was serious and seriously hot. “Harper, do you trust me?”

“Umm. Why are you asking me that now?”

“Just answer the question. Yes or no.”

“Yes. I guess.”

His answering grin was decidedly wicked. “Good. Let’s go shoppin’.”

The inside of the store was as deserted as the parking lot. An oblivious teenage girl leaned against the register partition, texting.

Bran approached her. “Excuse me. Is anyone around tonight to load corrals if I buy some?”

She shook her head. “We close in an hour. Just me and Reggie here and he’s in the back.”

“Thanks. Next time I’ll have to come earlier in the day.” Bran placed his hand in the small of Harper’s back and directed her to the glove aisle.

She snagged the first pair she saw, while Bran debated on styles, thickness, and new brands until she couldn’t stand it. She wandered over to the clothing section.

Ranch-supply stores had everything from baby chickens and corrals to industrial tools and livestock feed to food and clothing. Harper had a serious thing for Western clothes.

At first she’d worn the traditional floral patterns and flannel to make herself feel more like a Wyoming native, but along the way she’d fallen in love with Western styles. The slim cut of the women’s dress and casual shirts. The rhinestones on everything. The sheer variety of jeans that fit every shape and size of woman under the sun. And the boots. If she had the money, she could spend every last dime on cowgirl boots. She loved to browse, trying to figure out funky ways to put together cool outfits with limited cash. She let her fingers follow the ruffled pattern on the bottom of a denim miniskirt.

“You should try that on,” Bran said behind her. “I bet it makes your ass look fantastic.”

What a flatterer. But she wasn’t immune to it. “Really?”

“No foolin’. Go on. Try it. The dressing rooms are straight back there.” He pointed.

Harper peered over his shoulder at the girl employee still engrossed in poking buttons on her cell phone. “Do you think I should ask her first?”

“No need. We’re the only ones in here.”

Okay, then. Harper picked the biggest dressing room, in the corner. She slipped off her skirt, leaving on her knee-high heeled boots. Just as she was about to shimmy the skirt up her legs, two brisk knocks sounded on the door.

Crap. She knew she should’ve checked with that girl first. Holding the skirt across her lower half, she cracked open the door. “Yes?”

Not the employee standing on the other side, but Bran.

He bulled his way inside and locked the door.

“What are you doing?”

He snatched the skirt out of her hands and tossed it on the bench. He stalked her until her spine hit the mirror. His fingers pinched the fabric of her shirt beneath her collar, and the metal snap buttons went pop, pop, pop, pop, pop until her shirt hung open. Then Bran’s mouth was hungry on hers, his fingers twisting the front clasp of her bra. The little chunk of plastic was no match for his determination, and her br**sts tumbled free.

She considered protesting for five seconds until Bran’s wonderfully rough hands were on her br**sts, rasping across her ni**les. Her heart kicked into double time when he shoved his thigh between hers and began to slide it up and down, creating delicious friction across her damp slit.