Dane's Restraint Read Free

the fence post, his booted foot propped on the bottom rung, watching Sara Piermont strut back to her cabin. She didn’t have to introduce herself, he’d know that family resemblance anywhere. Hell, he’d practically grown up with Shannon, and Sara looked enough like her cousin. Long dark hair, curves that made a man’s hands yearn to touch them.
    At first, he’d thought she was shy, but her blatant invitation threw that idea out the window. She might appear quiet, but he’d bet she was firecracker just waiting for the right moment to crackle and surprise.
    His dick swelled and ached, pulsing with each sway of her ass. Something about her lit a fire deep in the pit of his stomach.
    Blaze stuck his head over the fence and butted his snout against Dane’s cheek. The horse snorted, tickling him with hot breath.
    “You like her, huh?” Again, Blaze snorted. “Yeah. Me, too.”
    So maybe he wasn’t going to get a weekend of fishing and relaxing, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see how far Sara was willing to go. She wanted a fling, he could do a fling. Hell, he would rock her world.

Chapter Two
    There’s nothing wrong with a single woman going out for a drink. It’s not like I’m going to dance on the tables. Ooh, sorry, Mom. A grin creased Sara’s lips. Like her laidback mother would take offense at anything. Though I wouldn’t mind giving Dane Dumen a lap dance.
    After dinner, the other women had gathered around the campfire. She didn’t feel like socializing. Not with Shannon’s warning still buzzing in her brain. Jumping into her car, she drove to town, found a parking spot, and walked into the bar.
    She knew taunting Dane with her desire for a weekend fling was not a smart idea. But did she honestly think he would take her up on the challenge? Not really. Why would he be interested in a school teacher who, for all he knew, was only going to be around a few days?
    She bellied up to the bar and settled on a wooden stool, making eye contact with the bartender, a beefy guy who looked like he could bench press a truck and not break a sweat. His neck was the size of a tree trunk.
    “What can I get you?” His voice was as rough as his exterior and didn’t have the same calming effect of Dane Dumen’s smooth baritone.
    “Shot of whiskey and a draft.”
    He gave a brusque nod and filled her order. When he put the shot in front of her, she downed it. The whiskey burned a path down her chest and settled in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t much of a drinker—didn’t care for the taste of most liquor—but needed the liquid courage if she ever hoped to go through with her weekend fling plan.
    She chased the shot with a swig of beer and drummed her fingers on the scarred wooden surface of the bar. Her gaze travelled around the crowd, picking out possible conquests. A burly cowboy with a full beard sat alone in the corner nursing a beer. From this distance, he appeared decent looking, but then a woman approached and was greeted with a full contact lip lock.
    Strike him off the list. She didn’t want competition.
    “See anything you like?” a voice murmured in her ear.
    Her heart threatened to leap from her chest. “Are you following me?” She pinned Dane with a glare, but couldn’t help notice how the black T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders, straining around large biceps. He was much bigger than she thought. Those loose button-down shirts hid all the wonders of the cowboy.
    The corner of his mouth kicked up, and he took a swig of beer. “No, I’m not following you. This is my town, remember?” His gaze dropped to her lips, lingering just a second before he met her gaze again. “Besides, I got here first.”
    She wanted to smack that smartass smile off his lips. Her breasts ached, and she pressed into them with her forearm. “Yeah, well, it’s my town now, too.” Dammit, she hadn’t meant for that to come out.
    He bent a little closer, his mouth just inches away.