Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VIII: The Cowboy Who Never Grew Up. Kimberly Raye

      “You really like being on the go that much?”

      He didn’t answer. Instead, something flitted across his expression and she got the instant feeling that he wasn’t half as content with his lifestyle as he wanted everyone to think.

      “I like being a rodeo cowboy,” he finally said.

      “An irresponsible rodeo cowboy.” She held up the extra copy she’d brought. “Or so you want everyone to think, which is why you don’t want to sign these papers.”

      His brows drew together into a tight frown. “What are you talking about?”

      “You let me believe you were drinking margaritas this morning.” She wasn’t sure why she called him out except that she was tired of playing games. “It was a vitamin slushie.”

      “Like hell.”

      “You also didn’t want to tell me that you had a Yorkie named Tinkerbell. You’re this big, bad, supposedly irresponsible guy who doesn’t care about anyone or anything, yet you’ve got a house full of guys living here and you keep Eli gainfully employed when he has to be the most annoying man I’ve ever met. You’re also getting your ass kicked up on that bull, but you don’t want to admit it—or any of the above—to anyone because you’re afraid it’s going to kill your image. That’s why you don’t want to sign. Because signing would be the responsible thing to do.”

      “You’re full of shit.”

      “Prove me wrong, then,” she countered. “Right here and now.”

      Just like that, his gaze darkened as if she’d stripped off her clothes and pressed herself up against his wet body.

      “What do I get if I do?”

      “Fame and fortune.”

      “I’ve already got both.”

      “You’ll get more.”

      “What if I want something else instead?”

      “As in?”

      The seconds ticked by as he stared down at her. He looked almost hesitant. A glimmer lit his eyes as if he wanted to say something. But then the light faded into a dark, smoldering blue as his attention settled on her mouth. “A kiss might just do the trick.”

      “You want me to kiss you and then you’ll sign?”

      “That, or I can just kiss you.” And then he did just that.

      He dipped his head. His mouth caught hers in a plundering kiss that took her breath away. His deep, musky scent filled her nostrils. His body heat drew her closer. Her nipples tightened and an ache started between her legs. And she couldn’t help herself. She leaned into him, molding herself to his hard frame despite the fact that he was soaking wet. The alarm bells in her head faded into the pounding of her own heart, and suddenly there were just the two of them and the kiss.

      A kiss that quickly morphed into something softer and more persuasive when she wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head to give him better access. His arms slid around her waist, drawing her even closer. His tongue swept her bottom lip and dipped inside, stroking and coaxing and drawing a raw moan from deep in her throat.

      It was a kiss like no other, and just when she was really getting into it, he drew back.

      He stared down at her, his breathing hard, his blue eyes dark and unreadable, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. The look faded quickly, however, into a teasing light.

      He grinned and reached around to pat her on the ass cheek.

      The sudden motion jolted her from the daze of the passionate kiss and she came to her senses. “Are you going to sign the papers now?” she managed to say with stiff lips.

      “Can’t.” He shook his head, staring down at the contracts which had landed in a puddle of water at his feet. “I’m afraid they’re ruined.” And then he waltzed past her and headed for the adjoining bedroom. “On the bright side, we’ve got a hell of a party ahead of us so the night isn’t a complete bust.”

      The slam of a door punctuated his words and she was left standing in the steamy bathroom, staring at the soggy papers on the floor.

      A party?

      Did he really think a party was even in the realm of possibility with her future hanging in the balance?

      That would have been her father’s solution for just such a problem. He never worried too much about anything. Instead, he would have hit the nearest bar to show the world that no matter what the breaks, he was still baseball’s favorite rowdy boy.

      No way was she waltzing outside to watch Pete and his cretin friends feed the rumor mill that already surrounded them. She was a professional and it was high time she started acting like one. He’d toyed with her enough and no wonder. Every time he looked at her, she forgot all about her job and morphed into another one of the countless buckle bunnies who melted at the first touch.

      Distance. That’s what she needed.

      She needed to get on her cell, have another contract sent out ASAP, and then call a cab. She would check herself into the nearest motel and wait him out. He had to sign eventually.

      And if he didn’t?

      She forced aside the thought. He would. However wild and reckless, he hadn’t made it to the top of the PBR heap by being stupid. The deal was a good move, particularly since she knew beyond a doubt that Pete wasn’t as young and wild as he wanted everyone to think.

      As young and wild as he wanted to think.

      She’d seen the flash in his eyes when she’d called him out. She’d hit a nerve, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

      He would. He was taking a beating and it was just a matter of time before it caught up to him.

      In the meantime, she was going to establish some boundaries and show Pete Gunner that at least one of them could behave responsibly. And she wasn’t—repeat was not—going to think about his kiss and the fact that she’d liked it a lot more than she should have.

      She’d seen too many women fall for her father and get their hearts broken as a result.