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Her Cowboy Doms(8)

By:Jane Jamison


“No, you’ve got me all wrong. I don’t want that. I want a man who’s an equal, not a bully.”

He grinned. “Horse shit. What I’m talking about isn’t about being a bully. It’s about giving you what you deserve and need. And trust me. I can see it in your eyes. You want it more than you can say. Just let go of the control, sugar, and learn what it means to experience true pleasure.”

Her chest rose and fell, then she swallowed. He took in a deeper breath and picked up the aroma of her sweet heat between her legs. Her lips parted, a slight movement that would entice a lesser man to take what he wanted whether she gave herself to him or not. Still, at least she didn’t protest, didn’t tell him to go to hell as she’d done before.

“Destin, take it easy. She’s not in the right frame of mind for any kind of play.”

As usual, his brother was right. Maybe. And yet, he wanted more than anything to find out. Taking a steadying breath of his own, he eased away. “It’s okay, Georgia. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. That’s always how it is. And we’ll make sure you get home without any expectations. If that’s what you really want.”

Yet when he stuck out his hand to seal the deal, she looked at it like it was a snake about to pierce her skin with its deadly fangs. Nonetheless, her breathing grew regular and she cleared her throat.

“Fine. I think I’m crazy for agreeing, but you’re right about my driving. But you have to stay in the cab once we’re there. Don’t think I’m going to invite you inside. Agreed?” She finally took his hand.

The heat of her skin against his was more sensual than anything he’d ever experienced with any other woman, with or without clothes on. He needed her. His body craved hers, with every fiber of his being. Hell, if touching her hand made him want to shoot his wad, what would it be like once he tasted her pussy? “Agreed. Let’s get out of here.”





Chapter Two




Georgia felt fine. Good, actually. More relaxed than she’d felt in a long time. Granted, she’d had a few drinks—she wasn’t much of a drinker, so it didn’t take much—but she still had her wits about her. If she was a little wobbly, it was due to the damn high heels she’d stuck on her feet. How did women wear them anyway? Why had she bothered with the damn things?

That, however, had nothing to do with her mind. If anything was taking away her ability to think straight, it wasn’t the alcohol, but the two men escorting her to the entrance of the hotel. She pulled her coat around her. Funny how a chilly breeze could waft over her, yet she could feel so hot on the inside.

She snuck a glance at Destin, getting a better look at him than she’d gotten in the dimly lit bar. He was an inch or so shorter than his brother, with slightly longish brown hair and a narrower shoulder span. Not that his wide shoulders could be called anything but magnificent. Both of them could give a pro football player a run for his money. As broad as he was, Destin’s face was that of a male model’s, angular, with strong cheekbones and a jaw that could cut glass. Whenever he moved, the biceps in his arms bulged and rippled even under the expensive leather jacket. He wore plain jeans, and yet his muscular legs made them seem spectacular, like common cloth holding precious gold within its confines.

Both men had intriguing light green eyes, eyes that made her think of sleepy Sunday mornings lying in bed and snuggling against their hard bodies. Although it was winter, they both had deep tans. She wondered if the tans came from working or playing in the sun. Were their entire bodies tanned? If she could ask them to strip, she’d do that and get the answer. Too bad that was out of the question.

Or was it?

She tucked her head, pretending it was because of the cold, but the truth was that if she studied them any harder, she’d blurt out her question.

Not easily intimidated, she couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy around them. It was the air of confidence that surrounded them as well as an essence that spoke of how comfortable they were in their own bodies. Many men tried to feign that persona of self-assuredness, but she’d seen very few who possessed it naturally. Destin and Paul Casing were two men who did.

Paul had barely lifted his hand when a cab pulled up in front of them. “Ladies first.”

She hesitated and reconsidered what she was doing, allowing two men she’d met on her job and then in a bar to take her home. She wouldn’t have advised any single woman to do the same. It was a risky and perhaps foolish move.

“No.”

“No what?” questioned Paul.

“I’ll take the cab. There’s no reason for you two to come along.”