Page 29 of Long Arm of the Cowboy

Unable to hold herself upright anymore, she rolled off him.

And damn if the man didn’t follow her. Gripping her hips, he hiked her ass up in the air and buried his tongue in her pussy from behind.

Fisting the covers, she pinched her eyes shut on the sensation that should surely be a sin. He continued lapping her pussy for drawn-out minutes, working her up all over again.

Suddenly, he drew away from her. She felt his weight leave the mattress and heard the thump of his feet on the floor. She twisted her head in time to see him leave the bedroom.

She couldn’t even move. Still on all fours, she dropped her head to the pillow and tried to recover a brain cell or two. After all, how was she going to ever have a career in journalism if she forgot all her words?

A second later, Clay returned, carrying her purse. He dropped it on the dresser and began rummaging through the contents for what had to be the condoms she alluded to carrying.

After a short time, he picked up her purse and dumped the entire contents on the dresser. Items bounced off the surface and dropped onto the floor. A length of rope dangled from the cloth.

Clay picked up a condom and gave the stuff on the floor a cursory glance. “I’m not even gonna ask why you’ve got some of these things.”

“The rope is—” She stopped dead when he took off his T-shirt. “Oh god…”

She rolled to a sitting position.

His chest made her mouth dry out. She might have even swallowed her tongue. Each carved shoulder bore a tan that spoke of working outdoors. The swells of his pecs drew her eyes downward to rippled abs and ended at a ring of muscle riding just above the waist of his jeans.

He reached behind his back, shooting her attention to the way all that musclemoved. But when he set a handgun on the dresser, her stomach pitched.

“You were carrying the whole time?”

He gave her a look. “Of course. I never leave the house without it.”

Before she could say more, he stuck the corner of the condom in his teeth and held it there while those long, skilled fingers worked open his fly.

Oh god!

The words never made it past her brain because he stunned her by dropping his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion.

With his thighs flexing, he stepped out of the fabric. He braced his legs wide, showing off the grand prize—a thick, long, impressive cock that made her certain she’d been missing out all these years.

“I…never knew…”

“Use your words, Lark.” He approached the bed and tore open the condom and rolled it over the mushroomed head of his cock.

She gulped and scrambled for something to say to convey just how damn hot he was, how impressive his body was…and that she’d never been so turned on in her life.

“I never knew you were packing eight inches—”

“Ten,” he corrected, slowly jacking his length and sliding the condom to the base.

She eyed it. “Does that thing actually fit?”

“Fits fine. If you’re nervous about it breaking, we can always sixty-nine.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head at his dirty suggestion. “I want that too,” she said when she recovered.

His lips quirked up at one corner in a bad-boy smile that would have stripped her clothes off with a mere twitch.

Wetting her lips with a swipe of her tongue, she rasped, “Where do you want me?”

“On my cock. Or better yet…” In two strides he reached her, wrapped his hands around her knees and dragged her to the edge of the mattress. When he slammed his mouth over hers and set the tip of his cock at her entrance, she lost her mind all over again.

Need and passion blasted through her with every kiss he fed her. Between gasps, he drew back to look deep into her eyes.

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