Naughty has a price.
And the Stone sisters are willing to pay whatever it takes to get their cowboy.
Like sassy heroines and rough and tough cowboys? Then you'll love this series, Rhinestone Cowgirls.
I'm tossing in part of Chapter 1 of Book 3, Pressure Point. Hope you like it. Make sure you enter the Rafflecopter.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
And the Stone sisters are willing to pay whatever it takes to get their cowboy.
Like sassy heroines and rough and tough cowboys? Then you'll love this series, Rhinestone Cowgirls.
I'm tossing in part of Chapter 1 of Book 3, Pressure Point. Hope you like it. Make sure you enter the Rafflecopter.
EMERALD STONE
AWOKE to warmth against her hip. She snuggled deeper into the inviting nest as
prickles feathered across the back of her thigh, tickling her. She whimpered in
protest, scratched her leg, and rolled to her stomach.
Her blankets had
grown hair. The bed had turned lumpy and the sun’s rays were unusually bright
coming through the bedroom window. Had she forgotten to shut the blinds?
Squeezing her
lids tightly, she groaned in irritation, refusing to give in to the
restlessness. She wasn’t ready to welcome the day. After last night’s shindig,
her temples ached and her tongue felt like a cotton ball. Her stomach gurgled
loudly in validation that she’d drunk too much—way too much. However, it wasn’t
every day her sister got married.
Yup, she’d
definitely need another good three or four hours before she faced the world.
Throwing one arm
over her head, she welcomed another sexy dream of a cowboy. Not just any cowboy
either, but one in particular. Nash Walters. She’d had no idea her next door
neighbor had those kind of moves…on the dance floor.
She smiled and
started to drift. Birds chirped loudly. Were they right above her head?
“Go away,” she
mumbled. Who let a bird in the house? If
her sisters did this as a joke, Em would pay them back tenfold!
The downshift
drumming of a truck engine sounded on the lane and the distant hum of a
lawnmower vibrated her eardrums. The strong scent of freshly mowed grass
floated under her nose—and something else….
Shifting to her
side, she threw her leg over the body pillow. Rubbing her cheek against the
surface, she expected softness and the scent of fresh rain fabric softener.
Instead, her favorite pillow smelled like spice and leather, felt hard—and had a
heartbeat.
A heartbeat?
Every muscle in
her body tensed.
What had she
done? Scrolling through the fuzzy memories of last night, she thought over each
one. Dancing…drinking…laughing. Nash
naked.
A naked Nash?
Oh no!
Slowly lifting a
finger, she jabbed her pillow. Pillows don’t have nipples! And they don’t moan
when poked.
Cocking one eye
open, she stared into an explicit, bright sky.
Sky?
She jerked up as
her heart skipped a good ten beats. “Where the hell am I?” she whispered.
Another deep
moan sounded from beside her. She closed her eyes shut. This must be a dream. Counting to ten, forward then backward, she
finally opened her eyes. Oh shit! The
stark reality that she wasn’t alone smacked her in the face. She wasn’t at home
in her bed. She was in the bed of her truck, a horse blanket covering her, with
the horse trailer hitched to the back.
Panic crawled down her spine as she peeked over
her shoulder. Her mouth fell open and her skin scorched. Lying beside her,
stretched out in all his fine, naked glory…Nash Walters
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