Page 51 of Wrangling a Wild Texan

“Very interested.”

“Then why are you still dressed?”

“Good question.” He tugged the snaps of his western shirt open and let it slip off his shoulders. When he reached for the button of his jeans, she stopped him.

“Take your time, cowboy. I want to look my fill too.”

He smiled as he moved into the shaft of light coming in the window. “Whatever you want, cowgirl.” He popped open the button of his jeans, then slowly rolled down his zipper. Hewanted her to enjoy the show as much as he was enjoying hers, but it turned out getting jeans off wasn’t easy. Or sexy. Especially when he was slightly tipsy. Once he had them to his ankles, he tried to lift his foot out and became unbalanced, nose-diving onto the bed.

As he cussed and kicked off his jeans, she giggled.

“It’s not funny.” He tugged off his socks and threw them across the room. “Mimi’s wine is potent.”

Still giggling, she rolled to her side and rested her head in her hand. Her hair fell around her like a river of liquid moonlight, one breast peeking out of the silky strands. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a prettier sight.

“Are you saying you’re drunk, Reid Mitchell?” She reached out and ran her cool fingertips down the center of his chest to his belly button, leaving behind a trail of flames. “Because I wouldn’t want to take advantage of an intoxicated man.”

“I’m not drunk.”

She sat up and pushed him back to the mattress. “I think I’ll be the judge of that. Now close your eyes while I deliver a sobriety test.” He closed his eyes and she leaned in closer, her warm breath falling against his face and causing a shiver of need to race through him. “Now I want you to tell me exactly what’s touching you—lips or fingers.” Her finger brushed over his bottom lip.

“Finger.”

“Good job. And now?” She kissed him, soft and sweet.

“Lips.”

“Excellent. Let’s make it a little harder. Keep your eyes closed.”

He didn’t know if it was the anticipation, but when something brushed over his nipple, he felt it all the way down to his growing cock. He tried to stay focused, but with his erection straining against the cotton of his boxers, it was difficult.

“Finger?”

“Nope. Strike one.” The touch on his nipple came again, this time with a brush of wet tongue that had him moaning. When she drew it into her hot mouth, his eyes flashed open. She released his nipple with a sucking pop he felt all the way down to his toes.

“Nuh-uh. No peeking or I’m going to think you are too inebriated to ride tonight.”

He slammed his eyes closed and waited for her next touch. He felt a light touch on his stomach. A finger, definitely a finger, dipped into his belly button before tracing the line of hair to the waistband of his boxers where it brushed back and forth with tingling heat.

He swallowed hard. “Finger.”

“Good boy,” she whispered next to his ear.

The mattress shifted and he felt the brush of soft skin on either side of his thighs. He barely had time to register that she was straddling him when his boxers were tugged down and his rock-hard cock set free.

He heard her swift intake of breath and then nothing but silence.

Lying there so exposed with his eyes closed made him feel vulnerable and, at the same time, excited as hell. When something brushed over the tip of his cock, he felt like he’d been stunned with an electric cattle prod.

“Lips or fingers?” she asked.

He struggled to think, let alone speak. “L-L-Lips.”

“Nope. Strike two.”

Damn. He focused his entire attention on her next touch. He wasn’t about to strike out. But when it came, he lost all thought as he was engulfed in the wet heat of her mouth.

“Sunshine,” he growl-groaned as his fingers tangled in her hair and his hips rose off the mattress. “Sweet Sunshine.”

---