Read Online Gentling the Cowboy by Ruth Cardello - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruth Cardello
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Something more Texan. Something bold. Holt Johnson? Might want him to be a cattle rancher instead of a horse trainer. Something about rustling cattle is sexier. Maybe it’s the rope.
Tony’s mouth went dry at the images that last sentence sent racing through his mind. He shook his head and tried to focus on the words on the page instead of how Sarah would look, naked and tied to the headboard of his bed.
Physical description. Hazel/green eyes like Tony’s. Eyes that change color in different lighting and with his mood. Tall, built like Tony with broad shoulders and that perfect butt that looks great in jeans.
Pleasure whipped through Tony, his grin widening as he read that last part for a second time. She likes my ass. But what does she mean my name is not Texan enough? She’d rather call her hero Holt Penis? That’s Texan?
He continued reading:
Tony is attractive, but . . .
Tony stopped at that word. But what?
He scanned the next few lines with less pleasure.
He’d be sexier if he smiled more. No woman wants to sleep with a man who always looks like he smells a rotten egg.
Miffed, Tony thought, Is that right? Hasn’t stopped you from following me around and giving me those take-me-now looks.
He flipped the page of the notebook and kept reading.
Ridden Hard
By
Breshall Haas
Tony thought: Who the hell is Breshall Haas? Her pen name? If that title is anything to go by, she’ll need one.
Still, he had to admit that he liked the idea of innocent Sarah having a naughty side. She was writing a dirty book—his little blonde angel. He shifted as his jeans suddenly became uncomfortably tight in the front. Short of Sarah coming in and ripping the notebook from his hands, nothing would have stopped him from reading further.
First draft
It’s not stalking if you know he wants you.
I park at the end of Holt’s driveway and curse the heavy rain that makes it impossible for me to see if his car is there. I consider coming back later, but wild acts of abandon cannot be postponed due to poor weather.
Still, it’s a shame that the time I put into styling my long, red locks was wasted along with the money I’d spent on the Jimmy Choo crystal-beaded pumps that likely wouldn’t survive a muddy sprint to his porch. I regret not boldly driving to his doorway, but my plan depends on him not being home.
I have wanted Holt since the first time I met him.
And, now, finally, I’m going to have him.
An arrow pointed to the margin where Sarah had written: Outside of romances, is that kind of desire for a man plausible? Tony’s breath caught in his throat as a revelation rocked him to the core. She doesn’t know. She is as innocent as she looks.
He kept reading, even as his cock countered with a pulsing argument for putting the notebook down, carrying Sarah back to his bed, and showing her what she’s been missing.
His car isn’t in the driveway.
No one answers my first knock or my second.
I shiver with anticipation as I open the door and let myself in.
The clock on the wall ticks away in an otherwise silent hall. Five o’clock. If Holt follows his normal schedule, he’ll be here very soon.
I strip off my wet coat, careful to hang it in the closet where it won’t be seen. I wipe the evidence of my arrival off the hall floor and walk to where I know he’ll head as soon as he gets home.
I fold my dress and tuck my underwear safely inside of it on the counter in the bathroom. I place my muddied shoes neatly beneath the counter and turn on the shower. My wet hair is cold on my bare back and I welcome the warm steam that begins to fill the room.
As I step beneath the hot spray, I lose myself for a moment in the sheer pleasure of it.
I jump at the sound of the bathroom door being swung open, quickly followed by the shower curtain being pulled back.
“What the hell are you doing in my shower?” Holt demands angrily.
“Waiting for you,” I say huskily. “I’m a
Tony’s mouth went dry at the images that last sentence sent racing through his mind. He shook his head and tried to focus on the words on the page instead of how Sarah would look, naked and tied to the headboard of his bed.
Physical description. Hazel/green eyes like Tony’s. Eyes that change color in different lighting and with his mood. Tall, built like Tony with broad shoulders and that perfect butt that looks great in jeans.
Pleasure whipped through Tony, his grin widening as he read that last part for a second time. She likes my ass. But what does she mean my name is not Texan enough? She’d rather call her hero Holt Penis? That’s Texan?
He continued reading:
Tony is attractive, but . . .
Tony stopped at that word. But what?
He scanned the next few lines with less pleasure.
He’d be sexier if he smiled more. No woman wants to sleep with a man who always looks like he smells a rotten egg.
Miffed, Tony thought, Is that right? Hasn’t stopped you from following me around and giving me those take-me-now looks.
He flipped the page of the notebook and kept reading.
Ridden Hard
By
Breshall Haas
Tony thought: Who the hell is Breshall Haas? Her pen name? If that title is anything to go by, she’ll need one.
Still, he had to admit that he liked the idea of innocent Sarah having a naughty side. She was writing a dirty book—his little blonde angel. He shifted as his jeans suddenly became uncomfortably tight in the front. Short of Sarah coming in and ripping the notebook from his hands, nothing would have stopped him from reading further.
First draft
It’s not stalking if you know he wants you.
I park at the end of Holt’s driveway and curse the heavy rain that makes it impossible for me to see if his car is there. I consider coming back later, but wild acts of abandon cannot be postponed due to poor weather.
Still, it’s a shame that the time I put into styling my long, red locks was wasted along with the money I’d spent on the Jimmy Choo crystal-beaded pumps that likely wouldn’t survive a muddy sprint to his porch. I regret not boldly driving to his doorway, but my plan depends on him not being home.
I have wanted Holt since the first time I met him.
And, now, finally, I’m going to have him.
An arrow pointed to the margin where Sarah had written: Outside of romances, is that kind of desire for a man plausible? Tony’s breath caught in his throat as a revelation rocked him to the core. She doesn’t know. She is as innocent as she looks.
He kept reading, even as his cock countered with a pulsing argument for putting the notebook down, carrying Sarah back to his bed, and showing her what she’s been missing.
His car isn’t in the driveway.
No one answers my first knock or my second.
I shiver with anticipation as I open the door and let myself in.
The clock on the wall ticks away in an otherwise silent hall. Five o’clock. If Holt follows his normal schedule, he’ll be here very soon.
I strip off my wet coat, careful to hang it in the closet where it won’t be seen. I wipe the evidence of my arrival off the hall floor and walk to where I know he’ll head as soon as he gets home.
I fold my dress and tuck my underwear safely inside of it on the counter in the bathroom. I place my muddied shoes neatly beneath the counter and turn on the shower. My wet hair is cold on my bare back and I welcome the warm steam that begins to fill the room.
As I step beneath the hot spray, I lose myself for a moment in the sheer pleasure of it.
I jump at the sound of the bathroom door being swung open, quickly followed by the shower curtain being pulled back.
“What the hell are you doing in my shower?” Holt demands angrily.
“Waiting for you,” I say huskily. “I’m a
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