Page 4 of Over the Line

“But not you?”

“No. I understand that you’re looking for something you haven’t found.”

She heaved a soft sigh. “I’m not open to being psychoanalyzed. Since it’s unlikely we’ll see each other again, can we skip the bullshit and get to the good stuff?”

Before it formed, Michael quashed his smile. “I don’t rush. That’s the first thing you need to know, darlin’.”

“Really? You like wasting time?”

“You can be certain”—he leaned in a little closer, only to be electrified by the sexual vibes she radiated—“I’ll give you what you need, not just what you want.”

“That’s as unlikely as it is arrogant.”

“Find out for yourself,” he challenged.

She scooped up a handful of hair and eased it back from her forehead, revealing her annoyance. “I was hoping that since you’re a divorced man who doesn’t want to go through that nonsense again, you’d be fine with taking what I offered.”

“Ouch.”

“Do you want an apology for your tender male ego?”

“With me, you don’t have to watch your words. I prefer honesty.”

“Do you, indeed?”

“I’ll return the favor. I’m not against having a relationship. I’m not, in theory, against marriage.” Passing the land to his heirs would be nice. He had one sister, who had two girls, but neither of them had shown any interest in running the ranch on a long-term basis.

“Are you looking for something permanent now?” Trepidation wound through her tone.

“No.”

“Then if you’d like to play, I would, too.” Seductively, sexily, she placed her palm over his crotch.

Heat seared through the denim. Except for lovers he’d been with a long time, no woman had been so bold. He wanted to cave to his baser instincts and take her here, now. Instead, he captured her hand and moved it away.

She pulled back, breaking his grip. Feeling rejected? What man in his right mind would have stopped her?

“Don’t take it personally,” he said. “In the future, you may be welcome to do that. It’s not that I don’t want you. On the contrary, I want to be buried balls-deep in your hot pussy as you cry out my name.”

Her eyes opened wide. She seemed more intrigued than shocked. “What are we waiting for?”

“We need to clear up a few things.”

“Right. I have no STDs and no physical limitations. Oh, yes, and I have condoms in my purse—large.” She shot a quick, sassy grin. “And medium, just in case you need them.”

Do you eat men’s egos for breakfast, darlin’? Rather than replying, he changed the subject. “Why do you scene?”

“More attempts to psychoanalyze me?”

“If you’d like to play with me, you’ll answer my questions. You’ve thought about it, surely?”

“Regular sex is boring.”

“Hmm.”

“And I like to transcend my limits.”

When he nodded, she went on. “I thrive on physical challenges. I guide white water river rafting excursions. Completed a triathlon last week, and I’m competing in an upcoming mud race. You know, running up a mountain then doing obstacle courses, under barbed wire, over a wooden wall. My team is doing it for charity.”

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