Cowboy Justice Association, Book One
Sometimes you have to die to be born.
One minute Katie is eating lunch with her sister, the next she barely escapes a car bomb meant to kill her. If that wasn’t enough, someone sets fire to her home and burns it to the ground. Luckily, Federal agents are going to give her a new identity until she can testify against the man who wants her dead. They change her name to Presley, her hair color to brown, and her shorts and sandals to jeans and cowboy boots. She’s not thrilled about being sent to a small town in Montana to hide, but she wants to stay alive.
Sheriff Seth Reilly is doing a favor for an old Army buddy. He’s promised to watch over a woman whose life is in danger, but he didn’t plan on her being so young and beautiful. He’s tempted, but she’s a bundle of trouble. Seth likes his women calm and sedate. Presley is the kind of woman who would keep him up at night and make him crazy. Too bad he’s starting to enjoy it.
Passion flares between Seth and Presley, heating up the cold Montana nights. Knowing they only have a short time together, they vow not to fall in love. But when danger finds Presley, Seth will risk everything to keep her safe until she can testify. Will Presley get her old life back or start a new life with Seth instead?
Presley was still standing, swaying to the music, her eyes closed, the wine glass dangling from her fingers. Her body moved sensuously, the burnished curls dancing around her head. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her mouthwatering curves. Everything about her was beautiful, sexy. Her jeans hugged the curve of her ass and the shirt pulled tight over her round breasts. He knew what she looked like without her clothes. He shouldn’t be this hot and hard from a tiny woman dancing fully-clothed in the living room, but he was.
Why this woman, at this time? It was messy, dangerous, and damn inconvenient but he didn’t care. At that moment, he would have crawled naked across burning hot coals to get to her.
Her eyes opened and Presley smiled at him. She must know what he was thinking. Heat swept through his veins and his cock swelled in his jeans. He shifted to relieve the pressure and continued watching his brown-eyed witch gyrating to the music. She glided over to the iPod and rubbed her thumb over the wheel until a new song blared from the dock speakers. By the time he realized the song was Joe Cocker’s ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On,’ Presley was already pulling up her shirt in teasing manner, exposing the bare skin of her midriff.
His cock jerked in his pants and his breath became shallow. Damn woman was doing a strip tease right in front of him. She shimmied out of her shirt, tossing it in his face, before turning her back and swaying her heart-shaped ass not three feet from him. He could have reached out and dragged her down on to his lap, caveman style, but he forcibly kept his hands on his thighs. His palms were covered in sweat and he rubbed them on the denim as his heart accelerated to the beat of the music.
When Presley turned around, her pants were unzipped and she was pushing them down her legs. She kicked them away with a flourish, her hands over her head, rocking to the beat. She flashed him a smile and leaned forward so he had an eyeful of her generous cleavage.
Holy fuck, his dick was as hard as a fence post. He could feel the blood rushing to it, leaving his brain too little to function. She was only in a bra and a ridiculous pair of panties, hardly more than a scrap of material. She went to her knees and reached behind her back, shaking her breasts so the bra slid down her arms.
Where the fuck did she learn to do that?
She giggled, her face pink, but his gaze was riveted to her breasts bobbing as she smoothly stood but bent over him so her nipples hovered over his mouth. He dipped his head and captured one between his lips but she danced away before he could suck on it. Blood pounded in his head, and he felt a wave of lust he could barely control. He dug in his pocket for a condom just as she turned her back again and tugged her panties down her thighs. He stood up with a roar and grabbed her around the waist. She yelped in surprise and then moaned in pleasure as he pushed two fingers inside her hot cunt.
Seth wrapped his hand around her trapped panties and ripped them from her body, crotch first, the flimsy material giving way easily. He turned her head so he could capture her lips even as he held her back to his front. He bent her over the back of an easy chair, her spankable bottom raised up, her toes off the ground, and the wet pink of her pussy peeking out at him. He smacked her bottom and she moaned in response.
“Yes, Seth. Yes.” Her voice was a throaty whisper but the pleasure was in no doubt. He smacked her bottom a few more times, leaving red handprints behind on the creamy white flesh. He jerked at his zipper and pushed his jeans and boxers down far enough to roll on the condom. His fingers were clumsy but the minute he was sheathed he thrust inside of her in one stroke.
“Seth!” Presley cried out at his possession. He reached down and found her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. He kissed her spine, then nibbled at it as he fucked her hard and fast from behind, their breathing labored.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Presley chanted. Damn, he loved how she loved sex. She didn’t act all coy and shy. She liked it and she let him know he was all man. She was certainly all woman. He kept up the blistering pace, slamming into her over and over until the pressure in his lower back and balls was too much to bear.
I’m a wife, a mother and a writer. Most days I can be found in front of my laptop, drinking an ice tea, and dreaming about hunky alpha males and the women who love them.
I also write as Lara Valentine for Siren Publishing.
I love to hear from my readers! I can be contacted at OliviaJaymes@gmail.com