Her Cowboy Doms(9)

Two pairs of light green jewels locked onto her. Destin slid his palm along her back, warming her even more. If she got any warmer, she’d melt into a puddle.

“I don’t know how it is in Atlanta, but we’re from Texas.”

Paul nodded, giving his opinion. “That’s right. And in Texas, gentlemen escort a lady home to make sure she gets there safely.”

She didn’t know where it came from, but the words were out before she realized it. “Are you gentlemen?”

Instead of being offended, Paul laughed, the vibrant sound drawing the attention of other women. Without warning, jealousy hit her and she wanted to tell those women to back off and leave her men alone.

My men? Okay, now I know I’ve had too much to drink.

And yet, the words still rang true to her.

“I can be when I need to be.” The air seemed to thicken around the three of them. “At other times, however, I’m anything but a gentleman. It’s whichever way you want, baby.”

Baby. She hated being called that, and yet, she didn’t mind Paul using the intimate term. Not only didn’t she mind, she kind of liked it.

“You can trust us, Georgia.” Destin grew serious. “You know you can. Listen to your gut.”

Had she told them about her instinct? She didn’t think so, but he was right. She trusted her gut instinct—the same gut instinct that had never failed her—and it was telling her that they wouldn’t do her any harm.

“Georgia?”

She glanced at Destin, then slid into the backseat of the waiting cab. Destin sat beside her while Paul went to the other side and got in on her left.

“Where to?” asked the cabbie.

She started to tell him, then realized that letting two virtual strangers, even men she felt she could trust, know where she lived wasn’t the brightest move. Instead, she gave him the address to her father’s home. With the cab driver in attendance and then going to her father’s home, she felt more secure in her decision to ride with them. Instinctively believing in them was one thing, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Sure thing, miss.” The cab lurched forward, made the circular drive of the hotel, then slid smoothly onto Peachtree Street. Five minutes later, they were on I-85 and headed toward the outlying suburban community of Suwanee.

She sat nestled between the two brawny men. Brawn that had nothing to do with body fat. Having been a chubby girl in high school, she’d worked hard to get herself into shape and recognized when someone else had a low BMI. Whether they got their physiques from hard labor or from a gym didn’t matter. What mattered was that they thought enough of themselves to keep in shape. She appreciated those who did.

“So do you live inside or outside the Perimeter?”

Obviously Paul knew about the area coinciding with the highway that locals said separated the areas close to downtown and those of the many suburbs surrounding the city.

“My family has always lived in Suwanee. That’s OTP.”

“Outside the Perimeter,” clarified Paul.

“That’s right.”

The warmth from Paul’s arm as it pushed against hers made it difficult to think. His long legs were bent with the small confines of the backseat, and for the first time, she noticed the cowboy boots he wore.

“So I guess the boots prove you’re from Texas. Does that make you a real cowboy? Or one of those guys who puts on boots and pretends to be one?” Was it her imagination or had they both gotten even closer. Her pussy throbbed, and she worried that they could see how turned on she was. She clasped her hands in her lap. If she’d had a purse, she would’ve held it over her crotch. She hated purses more than she hated high heels.

“That’s right. Didn’t we mention it before? Anyway, we’re from Pleasure, Texas. It’s a little town a couple of hours outside Dallas.”

“And what do you do there?” Maybe if she kept up the small talk, she could ignore the pounding of her heart. What was it about these men that made her feel faint? Being on the police force, she was around strong, virile men most of the day. So why would Paul and Destin have such an effect on her? If she didn’t watch out, she’d give into her urges and skim her palm over the shadow of bristles along Destin’s jaw. Then she’d cup her hand over Paul’s package.

Good God. Stop thinking about them that way. Think of them as possible suspects in a robbery. Or drug dealers. Anything that will make them less desirable.

That, however, was as futile as trying to make the cold wind of winter turn into a soothing spring breeze. She kept her focus on the road ahead. Summer was in the backseat of the car as the steam between them grew thicker.