Saturday, July 4, 2015

Another excerpt? Different book?

Excerpt copyright 2015 Fran Lee

Flint rose from the bed and hesitated as his little intruder looked her fill at him. Wide golden eyes dropped from his muscled chest to his aroused shaft, and got even bigger. Like she’d never seen anything the likes of it before. He let her stare for a full minute before he cleared his tight throat and reached for his rumpled jeans lying across the foot of Curley’s unoccupied bed. If he knew Curley, the cowpoke was dossed down with some rodeo bunny in another motel room, enjoying the hell out of her.

Shaking out his jeans, he stepped into them casually, sensing her eyes drilling a hole through his bruised ass. He could almost feel them stroking over his skin. Damn! It was a job getting the fly closed without zipping his unrepentant cock into the teeth, but somehow he managed. He didn’t bother with his belt. Or his shirt. Modesty wasn’t one of his many sins. He’d only put on his pants to make her less nervous.

When he turned back to face her, she was still flat on her back, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging, as if she’d been quick-frozen to the spot. He scratched his chest and yawned, and watched as her pale face turned all red. When she still didn’t move, he ran both hands back through his sleep rumpled hair, and almost laughed as her wide eyes popped again. Figuring he would have to be the one to start the conversation, he felt his cheeks crease with a wicked grin.

“Unless you are inviting me back into my bed, darlin’, it would be smart of you to get a grip and sit up. You look mighty invitin’ lyin' there like that.”

His words had the desired effect, because she jack-knifed up from the mattress and hit the floor with both feet, looking for all the world like she was ready to make a dive for the door. He lifted both palms like he would to calm a spooked horse, and he spoke softly in a calm voice. “Easy there, sweet thing…you’re safe. But I need a cup of coffee.”

Coffee? Hot coffee?

Lily’s mouth almost watered. She hadn’t eaten a damn thing except a stale granola bar since she’d run for it, and her gut was telling her off something fierce. She’d saved all her cash for bus fare and a room if she needed one, and the idea that he might be offering a cup of coffee was enough to make her sink back down onto the edge of the mattress and hug her stomach.

When the tall man moved to the cubby hole that served as a closet between the bedroom and the bathroom, and flipped the switch on a small two-cup coffee maker, she stared at his broad back, unable to take her eyes from all that golden skin. 

His jeans hung low on his lean hips, and his bare feet were long and well shaped. Holy Hell, but she’d never seen a better looking man. His dark hair was almost black, with a few lighter streaks, probably from the sun. Her gaze slid over the nasty bruises that were on his back, ribs, and his shoulder. Then he swung his head her way as if he sensed she was ogling him, and a crooked smile curved his chiseled mouth.

Covering her rudeness, she coughed and looked down at the floor, and she spoke in a shaky voice. “Did you get the shit beat out of you, too?”

Flint hid his grin as he turned back to the coffee, and turned two of the Styrofoam cups over. “Not in the same way you were. The saddle bronc I was finished riding took it into his head to try and get the last word in on our argument.”

He heard her little gasp, and a moment later, he felt cool hands on the largest of his bruises. It was all he could do to not flinch. He stiffened as her small cold fingers ran over the lump where a hoof had caught his ribs a glancing blow. “Have you been to see a doctor?” she whispered, “to make sure your ribs aren’t cracked?”

Taking in a deep breath, he fought to remain still. “Yep. Just a bunch of nasty bruises.” His voice rasped as he went on. “Your cool hands feel damn good, woman…”

She moved away quickly, and the minute her hands dropped from his body, he wanted them right back where they’d been. He tried his damnedest to not look disappointed when he glanced down at her over his shoulder once more.

“I’m sorry.” Her face was pinched with concern.

“No need to apologize. It felt good…sort of like an ice pack. You can put those hands back on me if you want.”

He watched her expression turn from worried to pink with embarrassment, and he fought to keep from turning around and kissing her until the pink turned to a warm red flush of pleasure. But he managed to hold back. He almost growled under his breath. He’d never felt so damned hot and protective in his life before. She wasn’t a beauty, but there was something about her that grabbed his gut and twisted. Something about her seemed to reach out and touch him, and damned if he wasn’t ready and willing to figure it out. He needed to back the hell off and get some answers so he could decide what to do with his little burglar.

Take care, and enjoy!


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