Page 35 of Wild, Wild Cowboy

I huffed. “You can’t possibly fail.”

“Why’s that?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to tell you. It will only feed this whole delusion you have about your magic dick.”

“Well, now you have to tell me. I’m a broken man, Hannah. My delusions are all I have left.”

He was doing that thing again, where he told the truth but made it sound like a joke. It made my chest hurt when he did that. It also made it impossible for me to do anything but give him what he wanted.

I glared at him. “You can’t fail because even if it doesn’t work, it’s still the best sex I ever had.”

He leaned forward, cupping his ear like he hadn’t heard me. “Come again?”

My glare was withering. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? See if you can make me come once before we worry about coming again.”

He burst out laughing. “Damn, duchess. Only you would proposition a man and insult him in the same breath.”

“So will you do it or not?” I asked.

“Will I have lots and lots of sex with the world’s most exasperating and beautiful librarian, with a goal to make you come as often as possible, but even if it doesn’t work out, provide you with the best sex of your life, courtesy of my magic dick?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, I believe I can oblige you, duchess.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you.”

“You know, that would look great embroidered on a pillow, if you’re ever in the mood toreallythank me for my services.” He held up his hands as if holding an imaginary pillow between them. “Zack Hale’s magic dick gave me the best sex of my life.”

“I’m already regretting this.”

Under the table, his legs captured mine. His gaze turned heated. “No, you’re not.”

There was a promise in that look, of all the things he would do to me. I wanted those things. “No, I’m not,” I agreed.

He released my leg and leaned back, smiling. “You know, you looked so serious when I walked in here. I really thought you were going to give me bad news about Hurricane Red.”

“Hurricane Red!” My eyes widened as I remembered. “Idohave news. Not bad news,” I added hastily when his face paled. Literally paled. Zack might honestly be the most sentimental man of my acquaintance. “Good news. Jeremiah found him. There’s an auction three hours west of here on Saturday. Four hundred and thirty-seven horses, most of them quarter horses from ranches and rodeos. Hurricane Red is number three hundred sixty-eight.”

13

HANNAH

After meeting Zack for lunch, I was back on solid footing. I had aplan. A pretty list of bullet points to give structure to this nebulous mess inside me that giddily kicked its feet every time Zack was in eyesight.

Step 1: Have lots of sex with Zack.

Step 2: Have orgasm(s) with Zack.

Step 3: Be normal.

Step 4: Live happily ever after.

And because Zack didn’t strike me as the kind to make his own list, I made one for him:

Step 1: Rescue Hurricane Red

Step 2: …

Step 3: Live happily ever after.

Obviously, Step 2 needed some work. I suspected it would take more than saving Hurricane Red from slaughter to get Zack his happily ever after. What, I didn’t know. Maybe he was perfectly happy already. But when I thought about the look on his face when he said he hadn’t planned on surviving the rodeo, I doubted it. The man was in crisis, even if he didn’t know it.

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