Read Online The Cowboy's Gamble: Destined For Love Series by Janelle Denison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Janelle Denison
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night.”
She whirled around so fast her braid flew over her shoulder and slapped her chest. “You can’t be serious.”
He just looked at her, which was all the answer she needed. She wanted to postpone the inevitable as long as possible, and he wasn’t going to budge on his decision.
Panic etched her expression. “I need time to get used to the idea of . . . of . . .”
“Having sex with me?” he offered.
“Yes!”
“What’s there to get used to?” Stretching his legs out in front of him, he folded his hands over his belly. His gaze locked on hers, and he let a wicked smile lift his mouth. “It’s not as though we’re strangers. We were good together, Josie, remember? You used to like the way I touched you, the way I made you come apart for me and beg for more.”
Her face inflamed. Jamming her hands on her hips, she leaned toward him, close enough that he could see the angry hurt flaring to life in her eyes. “That was before I learned what a rat you were and that you were just using me!”
He laughed at that. “That’s like calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”
She stood there, her hands balled into fists. And then, as if she realized she was fighting a losing battle, the fire went out of her and the tension in her body eased. “Fine, Seth,” she said. “I’ll agree to your terms, but just know up-front that I’m not going to be a willing participant.”
He controlled his rising fury with supreme effort. It wasn’t as though he was an ugly troll! “Oh, I think you will be.”
She touched her tongue to her bottom lip, where a triumphant smile lingered. “A woman has more control over those physical urges than a man does, so don’t count on it, O’Connor.”
She started to turn away to end the discussion, but he wasn’t about to let her have the last word, not when he was so damned furious he wanted to . . . kiss her and make her burn for him, until that haughty control of hers incinerated beneath the onslaught of his mouth and hands.
Faster than she could anticipate, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward where he was still sitting. She stumbled backward at the unexpected move, a gasp of shock catching in her throat. Another tug and she was sprawled inelegantly across his lap, her curvy bottom pressing against his hard thighs. She lost the use of one arm because it was wedged between her side and his chest, and he still had her other hand manacled.
She was trapped, and knew it, too.
The hand supporting her back found the end of her plaited hair, and he slowly wound the long, thick braid around his fist, forcing her head back and her lips to part on a gasp. His eyes must have been glittering with his barely suppressed rage, because alarm etched her features.
“Seth . . .” her voice was shaky, the pulse at the base of her throat pattering like a trapped butterfly. It matched the thrum beneath the press of his thumb on the pulse point in her wrist.
He almost let her go, almost gave into her soft plea, but as he stared at that ripe mouth of hers and thought of how good she’d taste, the slow heat of desire settled low in his belly and urged him on.
“I’m more than counting on you being a willing participant in our bed, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone low and deep and husky. “In fact, I’d be more than happy to prove here and now just how willing you’ll be.”
She tried to turn away as his lips descended, but the hand wrapped around her braid restrained her attempt. His mouth covered hers and she stiffened, clamping her lips tightly shut to keep him out. Undeterred, he tried a different, more sensual approach. He flicked his tongue along the seam then nibbled on her bottom lip before suckling the lush fullness into his mouth.
A groan rumbled in her throat, but her jaw remained unyielding, despite his efforts to gain entry. He found himself smiling at how stubborn she could be, and what had started as a punishment became a contest of wills
She whirled around so fast her braid flew over her shoulder and slapped her chest. “You can’t be serious.”
He just looked at her, which was all the answer she needed. She wanted to postpone the inevitable as long as possible, and he wasn’t going to budge on his decision.
Panic etched her expression. “I need time to get used to the idea of . . . of . . .”
“Having sex with me?” he offered.
“Yes!”
“What’s there to get used to?” Stretching his legs out in front of him, he folded his hands over his belly. His gaze locked on hers, and he let a wicked smile lift his mouth. “It’s not as though we’re strangers. We were good together, Josie, remember? You used to like the way I touched you, the way I made you come apart for me and beg for more.”
Her face inflamed. Jamming her hands on her hips, she leaned toward him, close enough that he could see the angry hurt flaring to life in her eyes. “That was before I learned what a rat you were and that you were just using me!”
He laughed at that. “That’s like calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”
She stood there, her hands balled into fists. And then, as if she realized she was fighting a losing battle, the fire went out of her and the tension in her body eased. “Fine, Seth,” she said. “I’ll agree to your terms, but just know up-front that I’m not going to be a willing participant.”
He controlled his rising fury with supreme effort. It wasn’t as though he was an ugly troll! “Oh, I think you will be.”
She touched her tongue to her bottom lip, where a triumphant smile lingered. “A woman has more control over those physical urges than a man does, so don’t count on it, O’Connor.”
She started to turn away to end the discussion, but he wasn’t about to let her have the last word, not when he was so damned furious he wanted to . . . kiss her and make her burn for him, until that haughty control of hers incinerated beneath the onslaught of his mouth and hands.
Faster than she could anticipate, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward where he was still sitting. She stumbled backward at the unexpected move, a gasp of shock catching in her throat. Another tug and she was sprawled inelegantly across his lap, her curvy bottom pressing against his hard thighs. She lost the use of one arm because it was wedged between her side and his chest, and he still had her other hand manacled.
She was trapped, and knew it, too.
The hand supporting her back found the end of her plaited hair, and he slowly wound the long, thick braid around his fist, forcing her head back and her lips to part on a gasp. His eyes must have been glittering with his barely suppressed rage, because alarm etched her features.
“Seth . . .” her voice was shaky, the pulse at the base of her throat pattering like a trapped butterfly. It matched the thrum beneath the press of his thumb on the pulse point in her wrist.
He almost let her go, almost gave into her soft plea, but as he stared at that ripe mouth of hers and thought of how good she’d taste, the slow heat of desire settled low in his belly and urged him on.
“I’m more than counting on you being a willing participant in our bed, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone low and deep and husky. “In fact, I’d be more than happy to prove here and now just how willing you’ll be.”
She tried to turn away as his lips descended, but the hand wrapped around her braid restrained her attempt. His mouth covered hers and she stiffened, clamping her lips tightly shut to keep him out. Undeterred, he tried a different, more sensual approach. He flicked his tongue along the seam then nibbled on her bottom lip before suckling the lush fullness into his mouth.
A groan rumbled in her throat, but her jaw remained unyielding, despite his efforts to gain entry. He found himself smiling at how stubborn she could be, and what had started as a punishment became a contest of wills
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