Page 3 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
But Whiskey would never be easy or peaceful or stay-at-home anything. Any man wanting to lasso her would never sleep.
He downed the shot of whiskey. Savored the burn and waited for her decision. She planted her palm on the top of the bar and vaulted it so that she stood directly in front of him, close but not touching.
She threaded her fingers in his dark, wavy hair that Axel had harassed him all week was too long.
“I’d enjoy a dance, Anders. And will even admit to wanting a night.” She stood on tiptoe and guided his head down to hers.
She fused their mouths and lit him on fire. His skin felt too tight and he slid his hands around her body, forcing himself to not crush her to him or grab anything R rated at his brothers’ weddings in a town where everyone knew him.
Her lips moved expertly under his, her tongue played with his inner lip, her teeth nibbled his bottom lip enough to sting—and his heart nearly jerked out of his chest. One kiss from her and his cock swelled so eagerly against his zipper it was painful.
Dynamite.
C4.
Grenade.
Rocket launcher.
Didn’t matter the analogy. Whiskey was an explosive combination of woman. Dangerous. And Anders needed her.
She broke the kiss, and his mouth chased hers. She pressed her fingers against his lips.
“But if we’re talking my needs, Anders Wolf, I need freedom.”
Chapter Two
Mid-September
Tinsley Underhill parkedher Ducati near the rear of the arena where it would be safe and still provide a quick exit when she’d said what she had to say.
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow her pounding heart and her sickly swirling stomach.
The Dallas AEBR show was sold out, and Tinsley could hear the massive and enthusiastic crowd chanting the name of the next bull rider who was riding in the finals tonight: Kane Wilder. She hadn’t come to see him. Her business was with Anders Wolf, only after his ride.
Nerves she’d thought she’d banished five years ago when she’d walked out of her old life jangled awake.
She gnawed on her bottom lip and wiped her damp palms on her leathers.
No. She was stronger than this.
She breathed in deeply through her nose, held it for a count of ten and then breathed steadily out.
She hated this. Hated it! No longer in total control of her life, her career, her feelings, her thoughts or her body. And her future? Out the door into the vast unknowable.
She remembered what she’d told Anders at his brothers’ wedding before she’d given in to the temptation he’d effortlessly wielded.
Yeah, she’d wanted him.
But I need freedom.
Ironic, and not in a song way she could laugh about over drinks with friends she no longer had.
For five years she’d reigned supreme, and she’d reveled in her control. She’d found happiness, pride and a contentment she’d never once imagined growing up. She pulled off her helmet, strapped it over a handlebar and put her leather gloves inside it. This wouldn’t take long. It was an obligatory announcement.
Then she pulled out her elastic holding her hair in the long, low ponytail and finger combed her copper tresses. She mocked her vanity, but somehow even in this extreme, appearances mattered—a little. She looked in the small mirror on her bike.
On second thought, she’d pull her hair back in a high, swinging ponytail. She needed more than a little sass about now.
