Page 8 of Stud Ranch

She laughed. “I’m terrible with numbers.”

“Public relations then.”

“Nope.”

They strolled along a path that circled some log bungalows. The pastures behind it were dotted with the cattle the ranch was known for just as much as the men who ran it. He pointed to a spot along the edge of the field.

“This wood bench has been perfectly placed here for a couple looking to escape the world with a bottle of champagne.”

When he held up the bottle and slowly began to shake it…so slow…in such a sexual manner…

Her already hard nipples puckered into even tighter buds. Liquid heat slipped into her core, and she squeezed her thighs together on the sensation.

Dylan shook the bottle faster. When he pushed against the cork with his thumb, it exploded.

An unexpected laugh burst out of Sloane. Then Dylan brought the wine that was spilling over the rim to her lips and bubbled it into her mouth.

* * * * *

Watching the champagne flood over those sweet lips had Dylan’s stiff cock pressing against his fly. Sloane was so alluring that he didn’t even try to give her more time to get to know him.

He leaned in and kissed her. She gulped down the champagne and stilled at the firm pressure of his mouth on hers.

Then her eyes slipped shut, and she melted.

He let out a groan and settled a hand on her waist, tugging her close. Her plump lips underneath his sent shockwaves to his groin. Oh yes, the chemistry between them wasn’t only present but strong.

She lifted a hand to rest on his chest, steadying herself as he slowly stroked his tongue over her closed lips.

On a gasp, she opened to him, and he plunged inside, flicking his tongue across hers in a tiny movement before he decided to take it down a notch instead of pushing her too far.

He lifted his head, and she slowly opened her eyes. That dazed expression she wore would usually boost his ego a hell of a lot.

It did more than that—it left him shaky with barely controlled lust.

The one and only time he’d ever experienced something similar was when Shaw happened across him fucking his client. When their gazes locked, a primal need to bite, scratch, claw and own that man had him screaming out in not one orgasm but two that night.

Reeling, he offered Sloane a smile and then raised the bottle to his mouth. After that kiss, he could use more than a swig of alcohol that was too weak to affect him much. But he had to remain in charge at all times with his women.

She ducked her head in a cute, shy gesture and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He passed her the bottle, and she took several sips before dropping to the bench. He sat beside her, his thigh inches from hers. That horny little devil on his shoulder urged him to drag her into his lap and let her feel his every inch while plundering those sweet lips.

He attempted to turn his mind onto another track. “You were telling me what you do for a living.”

The tilt of her lips was echoed in the depths of her green eyes. “No, you were supposed to guess.”

“Hit me then. I’m ready.” He took the bottle from her hand and sucked down a swig.

She sat there, hands on her knees as if indecisive. Finally, she stood and turned around, presenting her backside to him. And a lovely ass it was, too. Full and tight. Perfectly shaped.

When he simply stared at her luscious curves without speaking, she twisted to look at him. “Well?”

“Uhh…”

“Okay, let’s try this.” She took off in a sultry walk a short distance across the field and then came back.

“You’re an Olympic speed walker.”

She dropped her face in her palm, laughing. “No!” This time she ran in a circle and came to a stop before him.

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