Excerpt copyright 2015 Fran Lee
Her delicious, warm voice interrupted his lustful thoughts.
“I—I’m sure there’s just been some silly mistake.” Her slim hands were in front of her, palms out, as she spoke. As if that would prevent him from reaching out and dragging her into his arms. Obviously she sensed his preoccupation with those gorgeous tits…
“The old man told me the cabin was empty. I—I must have found the wrong cabin. I would leave right now, but I’m afraid my rented car won’t start. Do you have a car? Can you jump the battery for me?” Her words were breathy and agitated, but there was something else there. He lifted his eyes from her breasts and met her wide gaze. Damn, but he’d love to jump something of hers. He ignored her question. He didn’t want her to leave. The fucking car could stay right where it was.
“You aren’t afraid of me?” His voice sounded rough, even to himself. If she stayed much longer, he might not be able to resist her, as deliciously sweet as she smelled.
Chellie drew in a deep breath. OMG! The mouthwatering smell of rich red earth and fresh air and sage and some sort of heady herb filled her nostrils. Was that him? She should be terrified but she was actually aroused by the way he’d closed the cabin door and now stood there, as if waiting to pounce.
Am I fucking crazy or what?
The aura surrounding the man was pure sex, pure male…pure danger. If she had any sense at all, she would be diving head-first out the damn window. But she could not, for the life of her, move.
So much for sense.
In the dark interior of the cabin, lit now only by the late-afternoon sun slanting through the window, his face was half in shadow, but she had seen enough as he had stood in the doorway to know that he had a wicked scar on the shadowed side of his cheek and jaw. She truly ought to be terrified of the man, but something stopped her from feeling afraid. His aura was confusing—intriguing. She sensed great power dammed up inside.
And great hunger.
That sent an erotic shiver through her. Unconsciously, she edged away from the bed toward the window.
“Um…no. Should I be?” Her voice came out on a shivery breath.
Shit. I sound like a total dweeb.
Where was that panache she usually put on when confronted with things unusual and unsettling? She licked her lower lip nervously and realized with a start that the cabin’s owner was so damn close she could feel the heat of that big body rolling off him and mingling with hers.
How did he move so close without me seeing it?
Instinctively, she pushed her raised hands outward to stop his forward movement and her palms rested flat on a soft flannel shirtfront stretched over a set of abs that felt like hot granite. The contact sizzled up her wrists and arms and zapped straight through her to give her a shocking jolt to her long-dormant pussy.
Whoa! This is so not happening. Or is…?
Warm breath stirred her hair and she realized with surprise that he was sniffing her, like an animal scenting prey.
Where the hell did that analogy come from?
She closed her eyes as the deep, delicious aroma of his windblown hair and sun-freshened shirt mingled with sweet male sweat from the ambient heat. Her mouth actually began to water.
He wasn’t touching her. The only contact between them was her palms on his body. She frowned as her obviously horny inner voice told her that this man wasn’t what he appeared to be. That he was enormously important to her for some unknown reason. That if she wasn’t very careful, she would end up climbing that hot body and forcing herself on him.
I can handle that.
Opening her eyes with a jerk, she exerted outward pressure against all that heavy muscle.
A lot of good that did…
“I think I‘d better go and look for the cabin I rented.”
“There’s no other cabin. This is private land. Nobody but me lives around here.”
She swallowed hard as those words sank in. “But that old man rented me a vacant cabin…”
Her protest died in her throat as he bent closer to her.
His breath was hot against her temple as he whispered huskily, “This is my cabin. Obviously it isn’t vacant. But you are in the right place. He sent you here. To me.”
Chellie jerked away as if he’d just burned her, but his large hands settled over hers where they rested on his body, preventing her from escaping. “Damn it! I can’t believe such a sweet-looking old guy is nothing but…but a pimp! I’m gonna strangle him!” She tugged ineffectually against the solid grip he had on her hands, but she still wasn’t frightened.
Duh! Hey, stupid…you should be frightened.
This was as weird as hell. She should, by all rights, be panicking and screaming, regardless of the fact that there wasn’t anyone within shouting distance.
Why am I not freaking out?
Despite his refusal to let go of her hands, he made no move to touch or molest her. His shadowed face was starkly beautiful once you got past that scar. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window highlighted a strong, aquiline profile, while slashed black brows gave him the look of some handsome, wicked demon…and he had lips that looked as if they had been carved perfectly from granite. She hated the fact that she could feel his heart slamming hard against her palms, as if he were as aroused by the moment as she was.
Oh shit…no fucking way!
“I—I need to leave. I’m not some dumb city bimbo looking for a hot time in the Wild West. I came here to escape some major unpleasantness and I’m not up for rustic romance in the backwoods.” When her tugging didn’t result in him releasing her hands, she gasped, “Please let go of me.”
His lips tightened. His fingers loosened, slipping away from hers in what amounted to a slow, languorous caress, sending a whole shitload of hot, frenetic pulses of lust from his fingertips to her beaded nipples and on down her body to pool between her thighs. It was her chance to hightail it out of there. But instead of jerking her palms from his body, she slid one the rest of the way up over those ripped abs to a heavy pectoral muscle, her hand coming to rest over his tight little nipple. The sudden intake of his breath and the completely sexy groan that escaped his throat made her want to touch far more than just his chest.
What the hell was she thinking?
Am I even thinking?
His voice sounded more like a growl than words as he leaned closer and murmured beside her temple, “Just in case you weren’t aware, this isn’t exactly the way to tell a man to go to hell.”
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Fran Lee
