Read Online How to Rope a McCoy (Hell Yeah!) by Sable Hunter - Free Book Online Page A

sinking to her knees. And she had baptized this man in raspberry
lemonade? Hell, maybe next time she could lick chocolate syrup off every inch
of his body.
    Grabbing
an unlucky passerby, she coerced the woman into filling punch cups. All of a
sudden, Cato felt the urge to dance.
     
    *  *  *
     
    “What
happened to you, Heath?” Tennessee bit his cheek to keep from bursting out with
laughter.
    “I
was ambushed,” he drawled, casting a glance over his shoulder to the punch
bowl. Now that he knew their flirtations shouldn’t go any further, he wanted to
avoid Cato if at all possible. Damn. She wasn’t there. Where did she go? Heath
felt a shudder go through his body. It was like losing sight of a stalking
predator.
    “What
was her name?” Philip turned a chair around and sat down in it backward like he
was settling down for some juicy gossip.
    “Trouble,
her name was trouble with a capital T.” Now where was she? He looked around
nervously.
    Jaxson’s
eyes widened and Heath started to ask what was wrong when he felt a warm
delicate hand enclose his and—YANK!
    “Come
on, cowboy. I wanna dance.”
    Heath
had been standing with his hip cocked, one leg out in front of the other, so
he’d been a bit unbalanced. And when the little she-devil jerked on him, he
almost fell backward, straight into her arms. “What in tarnation do you think
you’re doing?” 
    Much
to the amusement of everyone watching, she tugged and he set back like a
stubborn mule. “Come on, I have some things I need to say to you,” she grunted.
    “Well,
do it here. I Don’t Want To Dance.” Heath protested succinctly, carefully
enunciating every word. He had enough sense to realize they were causing
another scene, but there were just times when a man had to stand up for his
principals. “Anything we have to say to one another, we can say here.”
    Her
antics reminded him of a small dog with a bone. As he groused and griped, it
dawned on Heath that like all women, she was paying no attention to the voice
of reason—namely him. Like most females, she was only hearing what she wanted
to hear. Well, no more! “Stop! Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He grasped
her head and turned her whole body.
    And
when he did, something happened.
    She
gave him the most brilliantly beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “I think we got
off on the wrong foot, and I want to make it up to you. Please?” Her voice was
sensual and full of promise.
    Maybe
it was the hopeful look on her face, or the playful glint in her eye which gave
him pause. He frowned—more like it was the perfect pink lips and the killer
body or the sweet lilt of her voice which made him want to take her in his
arms. But whatever it was, he surrendered. “Okay, I’ll listen, but I don’t
dance.”
    “Okay,
you don’t have to dance, just hold me. You won’t be sorry.”
    Mercy,
she was cute. Bright flags of color burned in her cheeks. Was she aroused? Just
the thought that she might be turned-on to him sent a shaft of longing through
him. Heath almost groaned at the possibility. God, he had to keep his emotions
in check. Trying to remember what Patrick had said and who he was dealing with,
Heath spoke gruffly. “Well, that remains to be seen.”
    A
smattering of applause met his ears. Dammit! 
    She
put her hands on his shoulder and pressed her body flush against his. Fuck,
Heath almost lost his mind. Lust unlike any he’d ever felt flooded his loins
and he got a hard-on big enough to drive spikes. He pushed her back a little,
not wanting her to know how she affected him. “All right, you’ve got me where
you want me. What do you have to say for yourself?”
    Cato
watched his face, not wanting to miss a word. She was confused. He had seemed
really interested in her before and now—not so much. Behind the punch table, he
wouldn’t have been able to get a good look at her body. Heath probably preferred
model thin women. Oh, well. She could still enjoy the dance. “I want