Devil in Texass(11)

puzzle to file away and think about another day. When she was sober. Not just from the tequila, but from the intoxicating scent and feel of the tall, dark cowboy.

She remained cozied up to him as he reached the three steps that led to the cute

little porch with the glossy, dove-gray painted floor planks and the crisp, white-washed railing. The buckets of vibrantly colored flowers were a nice touch and their scent

permeated the warm air. But the rich floral aroma was no match for the heat and

delicious smell radiating from Jack.

The pulsing and throbbing in her cunt had not subsided since they’d left the saloon

and now that she was in his arms, the erotic sensation was even more intense. She

considered how close her lips were to his skin, how easy it would be to lean the tiniest bit forward and brush her mouth across his neck. She wanted to taste him. Everywhere.

She wanted to run her tongue over the rigid muscles of his chest. Flick a nipple until it was as hard as hers. She wanted to move further south and pull his erect cock into her mouth, sucking and licking until he had to have her. Was desperate to be inside her.

A sigh of longing fell from her lips. The tip of her nose grazed his jaw as he

ascended the steps and the electricity from that touch alone was enough to make her

bound and determined to continue this seduction.

Regardless of who was actually in charge of it.

“You’re not making it easy for me to be chivalrous,” he said in a tight voice. “Those little sounds you make are driving me crazy.”

“When did I say I wanted you to be chivalrous?”

He groaned. “Trying to keep you out of trouble, darlin’.”

She laughed softly. “Don’t try so hard.” She was enjoying this too much. In fact, she seriously could’ve stayed in his arms all night—was sort of settled into doing just that.

Unfortunately, as he stood in front of the ornate door with its beautiful, crystal-cut center, he put a small crimp in her plans.

“Mind unlocking the door, darlin’?”

Bummer.

She had to shift a little in his arms so she could retrieve the key ring from her purse.

It wasn’t easy to maneuver, but Liza was determined to get the door open without fully relinquishing her hold on Jack. Because damn if she hadn’t truly found the happiest

place on earth, right here in his arms. She liked this cozy cocoon and wasn’t looking to unravel from it any sooner than she had to. Hell, if he wanted to carry her directly into the bedroom and drop her on the bed, she was fully amenable to that. As long as he

joined her in it, of course.

30

Devil in Texas

Successfully reaching the deadbolt without having to get out of the strong arms that

held her close to his hunky body and giving the key a twist in the hole, she was able to depress the chrome lever and let them in. As he stepped inside the cottage, she flipped the light switch on the wall, taking in her cute new rental.

There was no formal foyer to speak of. The door opened to a room split in half by

décor. To the right was the living room. A fireplace was centered on the wall where the door was also located. To the left was a small dining area. Windows adorned the side

walls, one of which filled the room with silvery moonlight. Further back, two steps led up to an open, elevated kitchen. A cherry-wood banister with decorative black

wrought-iron spindles divided the seating area at the counter from the living room.

Across from the kitchen were two doors. One leading to the bathroom. The other

leading to…the bedroom. Her eyes immediately latched on to that part of the cottage

and she bit back a smile.

Sure, she’d botched this pick-up at the bar. Yet by some bizarre stroke of luck that

was completely uncommon for her, the sexy saloon owner had ended up exactly where

she wanted him. Well…almost. He just needed to take a few more long strides forward

until they reached the bedroom.

“I should go back for your shoes now,” Jack said as he stared down at her. Despite

his words, he didn’t make a move to set her on her feet.

Nor did he make a move toward the bedroom. Was she seriously going to have to

be the one to initiate this tryst? Her mouth twisted as she considered this. Finally, she moved in his arms. He took that as the signal to put her down. Another crossed

message she’d inadvertently delivered tonight.

As her bare feet softly hit the polished hardwood floor, she clutched his thick biceps with her free hand. Not so much to keep her upright. More so just to retain the intimate contact between them. And because she really did like touching him.

“Care for a drink?” she asked.

He grinned at her. Cocky. Devilish. That hint of wicked making everything inside

her liquefy.

“That’d be nice.” He stepped away, seemingly reluctantly, and then disappeared

out the door.

Liza took a moment to steady herself for the tenth or so time since she’d met the

Devil in Blue Jeans. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could still smell him, as though she were still cradled in his arms, nuzzled close to his neck. A bold, masculine scent that made her tingle from head to toe.

Energized anew, she buzzed about like a bee. She dropped her clutch on the end

table as she bounded up the steps to the kitchen. For such a quaint place, it had

thoughtfully designed living space that made excellent use of every inch of the limited square footage. It already felt more comfortable and homey than her trendy mid-town

flat ever had. Or Peter’s mammoth Tribeca apartment.

31

Calista Fox

She’d done some grocery shopping before heading out for her good girl turned

wicked woman night and had stocked the fridge. As she yanked the door open, though,

she frowned. No beer. She tapped the pad of her index finger against her bottom lip as she contemplated this latest debacle. Then she remembered she’d bought a bottle of

Chivas out of sheer habit because it’d been Peter’s drink of choice. Surely that would do.

Retrieving the bottle from the cabinet, Liza broke the seal and plopped two ice

cubes into a crystal-cut old-fashion glass that came with the cottage. She poured a

splash of the Scotch into the glass and then pulled out a bottle of water for herself. No more booze for her tonight.

Jack came through the front door with her shoes and joined her in the kitchen. She

watched as he pulled a paper towel from the roll sitting in the upright holder and

cleaned the soil from her expensive heels.

“I have leather cleaner if you need it,” he said as he set the shoes on the floor

outside her bedroom door.

Had she died somewhere along the way and gone to heaven? Even better, it