Dusty doesn't fear the the feisty bull...but his owner's another story.
Dusty O’Donovan, an accomplished bull rider, isn’t afraid to ride El Diablo, a feisty stud whose owner, Zach McCray, is offering $500,000 to anyone who can stay on him for a full eight seconds. Though Zach refuses to let a woman ride his bull, he's intrigued by the headstrong Dusty, who he last saw when he was thirteen and she was six. Sparks fly when they’re together, but will Dusty’s secrets tear them apart?
Infuriating. Sexist Pig. Idiot genius who didn’t care about proper English usage.
But oh, could the man kiss.
From the first second, refusing wasn’t an option. The unimaginable sensation of his mouth pressed to hers overrode the rational part of Dusty’s brain. His lips were warm, unexpectedly soft, and laced with the robust boldness of his after dinner Irish coffee. The bewitching friction as he nibbled at her mouth enticed her lips to open.
And then it was magic. The woodsy spiciness of the coffee, the tangy storm of the Irish Whiskey, and something else... Something unique and indescribable. Zach. His tongue danced around hers, and her legs trembled beneath her. As if on cue, one strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. Every cell in her body screamed at her to drive into him, to deepen the kiss, but she was frightened. She barely knew him. So she began to pull away.
His strength defeated hers. “Kiss me back, darlin’,” he whispered against her chin. “Please.”
It was the please that did it. Somehow, she knew instinctively that Zach McCray didn’t utter that word very often, if at all. Weak-kneed and aroused, she thrust her tongue into the moist warmth of his mouth, and she was lost.
She’d done her share of kissing in the past, but never had she felt such an adventurous surge of need and desire. The frantic necking in parked cars, the careless goodnight kisses, the lazy exploration—nothing compared to this urgency, this demand. As their tongues tangled together, she moved her hands upward, framing his face. Her fingers toyed with the roughness of his night beard, the sleekness of his jaw line. Part of her was barely cognizant of him cupping her cheeks, his thumbs caressing her, yet another part was hyper-aware of his touch, his mastery of her.
When the frenzy between them slackened slightly, he removed his lips from hers and trailed them across her cheek, down her neck, then to her ear, tracing it with his tongue, nipping the soft lobe. She kissed his neck and inhaled his scent. Cloves. And pine. The outdoors. Heavenly. Faint moans met her ears, and she realized they were coming from her throat.
“Dusty.” Zach’s voice was husky, smoke-filled.
She moaned again as his mouth found hers. Unrestrained desire took her over, and she thrust her hips against him, feeling the strength of his arousal. She imagined him inside her, filling her, pleasuring her with that gorgeous body. She had never wanted a man like this. She imagined him naked, on top of her, doing things no man had ever done to her.
She let out a disappointed rasp as he broke the kiss and headed for her ear again. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Let’s go inside.”
“Oh yes, yes.” Dusty tunneled her fingers through his silky hair, leading him back to her mouth. His tongue pushed into her again, then retreated.
“Now, darlin’. Or I take you right here.”
Bibliophilic Book Blog
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