Page 4 of Resisting Isaac
Diego is sweet, but I hadn’t been looking for a relationship and he was crushed. Also, the sex had been the equivalent of plain dry toast. And I do not do dry toast. I am a lime-infused avocado mash with mango habanero salsa and fresh herbs on seven grain toast kind of girl. Meaning, I preferadventurous, filthy, wildly satiating sex that doesn’t end until you’re dehydrated and can’t hardly walk to get water.
I’d scared poor Diego to death.
The encounter had been awkward and embarrassing enough that I haven’t slept with anyone since. I haven’t been home much either, because his mom lives next door to my parents and I am avoiding him. Forever if I can help it.
Honestly, sex has been the furthest thing from my mind lately since I’d wrapped my last movie and knew I was coming here immediately after. But then I’d gotten a contract from the network via e-mail yesterday that must’ve been written by someone from the Puritan era.
The contract contained a lot of legal jargon, but the most important stipulation was laid out in plain language.
There is to be no fraternization between the actors or show production staff and the employees of the ranch where training and filming will take place. All contact is to remain strictly professional. Anyone involved with anything beyond that will be considered in breach of contract and out of a job.
What is it about being forbidden to do something that makes you want to so badly? I’ve had issues with my blood sugar for years and every time I have lab work scheduled, the doctor is all, “nothing to eat or drink after midnight.” I don’t typically eat or drink after midnight anyways, but when they tell me I can’t, I find myself pacing the kitchen sneaking cookies at two in the morning.
But this is different. This is a hard rule I have no choice but to follow.
I can’t afford to lose this part. It’s the role of a lifetime—one I feel I was born to play. I haven’t met Ivy Anderson in person yet, but I relate to the character I’m playing so well it seems like she wrote this part specifically for me.
I’m definitely not going to risk losing it to sneak a cookieor two with some sexy ranch hand. But this cowboy, the one watching me with glittering emerald eyes, waiting to see if I’ll take the bait, he’s fair game.
What better way to avoid the temptation of hooking up with someone I shouldn’t on set than getting it all out of my system with this random man who looks like sex in a Stetson? He looks like he’d be more than up for me riding him until we lose feeling in our legs.
“Sure seem to be thinking awfully hard about a simple question,” he teases. Without waiting any longer for a response from me, he turns to the bartender. “Brooklyn, tell this beautiful lady that I’m a man of my word.”
She glances over from where she’s helping the patrons on the other side of him. Two women who’ve started checking him out blatantly.
She shakes her head but she’s smiling. “He’s something all right.”
“Any chance he’s a serial killer?”
She pretends to contemplate this. “Must not be. Most of the women he takes home show up looking for him the next night. And the next night.”
I arch a curious brow at him. “Just a lady killer then, cowboy? Always leave them wanting more, do you?”
He shoots her an annoyed look like she gave away his secret. Like I couldn’t tell he was smooth as butter and probably as slippery.
He shrugs, letting some of the macho bravado fall away. “I try to be very clear right up front. It’s a one-night only type of ride.”
This is good news for me. Very good news.
One night is all I need.
Then I can put the cowboy in the rear view and focus on work.
I’m about to ask him if he wants to go to his place or wait for my hotel room to be ready, when he stands and tells the bartender, “Put whatever she’s having on my tab. All night.”
Before I can thank him, or tell him that won’t be necessary, he braces his arms on the bar, effectively caging me in.
He’s broader and taller than I realized. Men should not be allowed to look like this. It’s hazardous to the health of. . . everyone.
He leans in and presses his gaze to mine. “I’m going to go play a game of pool while you decide if you need more than just drinks. Then I’m going to walk a few blocks down the street to a bar called The Wild Coyote. If you meet me there, I’ll make you a deal.”
Every cell in my body is electrified. I don’t know how big this guy’s dick is, but his balls must be massive.
It’s a serious struggle to breathe normally and pretend he doesn’t have my full attention. I blink up at him, doing my best to appear bored though we both know I’m not.
“And the terms of this deal are?”
His eyes drop to my mouth, then he leans in like he’s going to kiss me. I force myself not to flinch or grab his face and taste every inch of his mouth. When he’s close enough to breathe the same air as me, he only whispers in my ear.
