I turned the corner of the stable block and reached the square that the first lot of stables fronted on to and he was there. All cowboy. He was stood at the side of a horse, his broad strong forearms resting on its back, his dark hair slightly slicked back as though he had
just run his fingers through it, but now he had them on his diary, sorting out a next appointment.
He had the perfect bum for jeans, neat and toned but with just enough shape to make you want to see more, and his muscled thighs were hugged by the worn denim so that you just knew when he stripped off he’d be a million miles from stringy wimp. He was laughing as he turned and his gaze met me full on. Stormy eyes that even at that distance seemed to reach that secret bit inside of me, quirky lips that I knew could be oh so clever when he wanted them to be.
Shit, why was it that just when you were sure of what you wanted your body played hooky from your brain? The thud in my stomach spread into a kind of hungry emptiness and I knew I was probably looking at him like he was prime steak.
I cleared my throat, but clearing my mind of its horniness was a more difficult task. “Hey.” He half nodded and watched silently as I walked up to them and I could swear there was a hint of a laugh in his features.
“No green goddess today?” Oh that voice was pure unadulterated sex.
“It was green elf.” I shot the girl, who was holding the horse, an apologetic look. No-one liked it when their private session with Dane was interrupted, their half hour of one to one, their chance to flirt and push for more.
“More goddess from where I was stood.” The lopsided grin spread further across his face, right to the twinkling eyes and the wink that was oh so dirty. He stepped back from the horse, straightening up and pocketing his diary. “Or should I say, sat?” Lay. The one thought that went through my mind was lay not sat.
He knew, and was almost laughing now and I didn’t know whether to thump him or succumb to embarrassment.
“So, six weeks then?” The girl hanging on to the horse was getting narked.
“Yeah, the twentieth, same time.” He flashed his best disarming smile and I watched her kind of melt. Then he glanced back my way and she solidified again and glared. “You okay?” Yes, apart from feeling hot and bothered.
“Sure.” I stubbed at the ice hardened ground with the toe of my boot.
“So we’re on for Christmas Day then?” He’d stepped nearer and I was torn between backing off or jumping him. Decisions, decisions.
“Sophie won’t be there.”
“I know. She said.” Well, I know she said, but without the catalyst I wasn’t sure where I stood. “Is that a problem for you, can’t you handle two men?” I made the mistake of glancing up and he had the dirtiest grin on his face imaginable, his thumbs were hooked into the belt loop of his jeans and every filthy cowboy dream I’d ever had vied for attention. “Think you can cope with us?”
****
BIO: Zara is a writer and lover of all things romantic, from the sensual to the sexual, who knows that naughty can be nice. She lives in the UK, but whenever she can heads off in search of some sunshine and inspiration for her stories.
She love sexy high heels...good food....good wine....music...coffee (lots and lots of coffee)... and Italy. All things Italian from the countryside to the culture, the wine to the food...and of course the sexy men.
She's been a consultant, a teacher, a mother, a wife, a lover... and has always been a writer and she'd love to hear from you.
Where you can find her-
Website: www.zarastoneley.com
Blog: http://zarastoneley.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter: @ZaraStoneley
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ZaraStoneley
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