This story came into existence via a strange route.
When I write cowboys, I tend to write them historically. I’ve had an on-going
love affair with the Old West my entire life, my first heroes were cowboys. I
saw a call from Delilah Devlin on Facebook, and she was requesting submissions
for an anthology called Cowboy Heat. So, I decided to see if I could write a
modern cowboy. In the end, the story wasn’t what she was looking for, and I
took another look at it. It’s now about 2500 words longer, and while it remains
a short story, it’s one with a sexy kick. Chase was a fascinating challenge as
a large part of the story is written from his point of view, but I really like
this story and I hope readers will enjoy this hot hero as much as I enjoyed
creating him.
TEXAS HEAT
Available NOW from New Dawning Book Fair
Short contemporary erotic Western
Blurb:
Chase Jordan
is a man with half his life missing since his return from the war in Iraq. He
arrives back in Texas, a drifter looking for home. When he arrives at the
Double D ranch, the owners know him, even if he can’t remember them. Cheyenne’s
been infatuated with Chase since her high school days, but Deke MacKenzie’s
already made it clear to Chase that his kid sister is off limits.
A loner by
nature, and even more so now as PTSD plagues him, Chase rejects Cheyenne’s
efforts to seduce him. He senses complications he wants no part of if he gets
too close to her, and part of his soul is very much at home on the Double D.
When an old boyfriend of Cheyenne’s goads him into a fight, his anger put him
on all kinds of edge–and Cheyenne’s determination to turn up the Texas Heat get
her in over her head...
Chase has
warned her, he doesn’t play nice. When she ignores his invitation to leave, she
puts herself at the mercy of his anger, his lust, and the most explosive
passion she’s ever experienced... But what happens when the “job” is over, and
Chase turns his back on her again? Memories are waking, the kind that will
change both their lives in dramatic ways.
Excerpt:
“Miss MacKenzie,” he said.
She walked around the truck and looked at
him.
The speculative look in her eyes kissed the
back of his neck with a tingle of uncertainty. He was always edgy around her,
like something was close but still eluding him. He didn’t like it.
“It’s Cheyenne, Chase,” she reminded him.
He nodded. They’d done this dance a time or
two before. There was something too familiar about her, but he couldn’t pin it
down. The now customary flare of annoyance woke inside him. Half his damn past
was missing since he’d come home from Iraq. Maybe he’d known her once, though
he couldn’t imagine forgetting someone like her. “Something I can do for you,
ma’am?”
She laughed and dropped the tailgate on the
pickup, bending over with what he knew was deliberate intent. There was no
denying the appeal of her well-shaped ass in the tight jeans, and his cock
twitched in response. She turned, tossed him a beer, and sat on the tailgate
looking at him while she took a swig of her own drink.
Chase opened the can of beer and drank half
of it. He strolled to the truck, braced his arm casually on the side as he
stared at her. “You haven’t answered my question, Cheyenne.”
She twisted around until she faced him, and
cradled the cooler between her breasts. Her nipples were clearly outlined and
pushing against the thin cotton of her tank-top.
He met her candid stare and grinned at the
challenge in her expression.
“Why don’t you like people, Chase?”
“I like people just fine, ma’am,” he said. “I
just prefer my own company to that of idiots.”
She considered his reply then shrugged. “Do
you consider me an idiot, Chase?”
He laughed. “No, ma’am.”
“Good answer,” she said.
“I have work to do, Cheyenne.” He finished
his beer and tossed the can into the ice-filled hamper containing the rest of
the six-pack she’d brought with her.
“You work for me, too, Chase,” she reminded
him softly.
He took a long look at her, his appraisal
meant to be offensive and blatant.
At only a little over five feet tall, Chey
was stacked and curvy in all the right places. Her long auburn hair was tied
back in a simple ponytail, and she wore no makeup.
He dropped his gaze to her breasts,
fingertips tingling as he contemplated what her skin would feel like, and taste
like if he leaned in and took one of her ripe nipples into his mouth. She slid
a little bit closer to him and he shook off the heat that was building inside
him. “Thanks for the beer, ma’am. I’ll be getting back to my work now.”
He would have left but she grabbed his arm
and he was too aware of the pebbled point of her nipple brushing against his
bicep.
“I want―”
He put a finger over her lips, silencing her
as he shook his head. “Baby, I know what you want, but I’m not playing that
game.”
She slid her hand along the front of his
jeans, stopping to squeeze hard and his cock reacted instantly and pushed against
the heavy denim.
“I want you to fuck me, Chase,” she
whispered, her gaze locked with his, the glint in her dark eyes a clear dare.
“I think you want it, too.”
He smiled and let the predator in his nature
emerge in his expression. More than one woman had backed off when his smile
went dark and warning.
Cheyenne’s eyes widened, but she didn’t back
down. Her chest rose and fell as her breaths quickened with obvious excitement.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,
Cheyenne,” he told her. “I don’t play nice.”
“Maybe I don’t want nice?” she said,
uncertainty in her words.
He needed to push her away while he still had
some control over the situation. He took the bottle she’d been clutching and
tossed it aside, grabbed her ponytail and eased her head back, exposing the
graceful curve of her neck. Leaning in, he licked the smooth hollow at the base
of her throat, smiling against her skin when the tang of sweetness and sweat
touched his tongue. “You have no idea how tempting you are, Cheyenne, but I like
my job here, so you have to go.”
She moved her head a bit, what her restricted
freedom would allow. When she laughed, the whisper of her breath fanned across
his skin. “I’m not going anywhere, Chase.”
“Yes, honey,” he paused, smiled, and
finished, “you are.” He let go of her and stepped back, adjusting his jeans as
he fought down his arousal. “I have work to do, and fucking you isn’t part of
my job.”
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