flamed in embarrassment, but she didn’t back down. If he was going to mock her for her lack of experience, she could comment on his plethora of it.
“My what?”
“The revolving door on your bedroom.”
“You’re crazy. I’m not a player.”
“Oh pul-lease. If you had any more women parading through your condo you’d have to install one of those ‘take a number’ machines like at the deli. You are most definitely a player.” Whatever that was.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve had relationships with all the women who’ve ‘paraded’ through my room. Jesus, it’s not even like there’s been that many. I’m not home enough to be a player.”
“It’s none of my business how you choose to live your life.” Oh Lord, could they please just drop this subject? She should have kept her mouth shut. This was only slightly humiliating.
“You’re right. It’s not.” He tapped his hand on his thigh.
Jane couldn’t help but stare at his long fingers just inches from her nose. He had a strong hand, very masculine with a smattering of dark hair sprinkled across the knuckles. It would look perfectly natural holding a beer can or a hammer. She couldn’t picture Lex drinking from a wine glass or using a delicate fish fork with those broad, callused hands.
An image of his fingers cupping her breasts, his darkness against her lightness, flashed through her brain, singeing every synapses along the way. He wouldn’t be a gentle lover. No, he’d be hard and demanding and probably very thorough.
Her breath hitched as her heart rate shot through the roof. Suddenly she felt far too warm. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and between her breasts.
“I am not a player.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Don’t try that reverse psychology crap on me. Just because I don’t live like a monk doesn’t mean I use women. They know the deal going in. I’m not around enough for a permanent relationship. That’s not what they’re looking for either. Just a mutually satisfying experience between consenting adults.”
“Of course.” Very satisfying, from what she could tell.
“Why am I explaining myself to you?”
“I have no idea.”
Lex swore softly and Jane hid a smile. The conversation was completely inappropriate, but he was no longer picking on her for not making out in a car as a teen. It was nice to actually win a battle with him for once.
Their love never died, but her secrets could break his trust beyond repair.
Texas Two Step
© 2012 Cynthia D’Alba
Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1
After six years and too much self-recrimination, rancher Mitch Landry is ready to admit he was wrong. He’d loved Olivia Montgomery but commitment wasn’t high on his list back then. That was his first mistake. He’s just divorced his second, and he’s set to do whatever it takes to convince Olivia to give him another try.
Through hard work, determination and more than a few tears, Olivia survived the break-up with Mitch. She’s rebuilt her life around her business and the son she loves more than life itself. She’s not proud of the mistakes she’s made—particularly the secrets she’s kept—but when life hands you manure, you use it to make something better of yourself…lest you get stuck in it.
At a hot, muggy Dallas wedding, they reconnect. Olivia’s first instinct is to play it cool, but after one devastating kiss things flare real out of control, real fast. Maybe a quick roll in the hay will get him out of her system once and for all. Funny thing about hay though, once it’s tangled in your hair, getting it out risks revealing things that were never meant to see the light of day.
Warning: Contains hot sex, a vindictive ex-wife and hot chocolate-chip cookies.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Texas Two Step:
He kissed her and the world stopped revolving. She swayed into him. Ran her fingers into his thick, wavy hair. Stroked his tongue with hers. Tasted the champagne inside of his mouth. Sucked gently on his tongue. Soaked him up like an arid desert in an unexpected rainstorm.
Olivia could have blamed the dim lights, or the romantic setting, or even Mitch’s raw animal magnetism for her response to his kiss. Instead, she admitted she wanted this night, this man, his touch, his kiss. All of her fantasies started this way.
Could reality be as good as her imagination?
What would it be like to be with him again? Make love with him again?
There was curiosity, but that wasn’t what was driving her response to his kiss. Desire ran rampant through her