Texas Tough Read Free Page A

the job himself, dropping his Wranglers and sliding on protection in a blur of movement. Her hip-hugging designer jeans came down with a single jerk to scrunch around her boot tops, along with her lace thong panties. There’d be no time to undress all the way; no caresses, no tender words. Nothing but raw, hot sex.
    Right now it was all she needed.
    Bracing her against the desktop, he tilted her back at a low angle. Her hands gripped his shoulders as his swollen length slid deep inside her. “Oh . . .” she gasped as her body clasped his heat. “Oh, sweet . . .” Her voice trailed off into incoherent mutters as he pulled back and thrust in again and again. Her eyes closed. Her head fell back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered as her muscles spasmed around him. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop . . .”
    When she spiraled back to earth and opened her eyes, he was grinning down at her. “Okay if I stop now, Miss Prescott?” His dark blue eyes held a mischievous twinkle.
    â€œI think . . .” Lauren fumbled for words. Despite feeling warm, rumpled, and deliciously wicked, she could sense reality closing in. She sat up as he turned away to reassemble himself. “I think what you’d better do is leave,” she said.
    â€œThat’s exactly what I plan to do.” He tucked in his shirt and fastened his belt buckle. “We’ve both got work, and I don’t know how much longer this house will be empty—so I suggest you pull up your britches before somebody comes home.”
    He walked to the office door, then paused to look back at her, one black eyebrow quirked upward. “About that unfinished business . . . This was a lot of fun, but whether it happens again is up to you. You know where to find me.”
    As the door closed softly behind him, Lauren squelched the urge to pick up the nearest heavy object and fling it after him. Furious tears stung her eyes as she pulled up her jeans. She’d had enough experience with men to know that once they’d scratched that itch, it was back to business as usual. But Sky had been so abrupt, almost cold. She felt as if she’d just been doused with ice water.
    Well, never mind, she’d learned her lesson. And if he was expecting her to come around begging for more, the man would grow old waiting. There’d be ice skating in hell before she let down her guard with Sky Fletcher again.
    All the same, his brusqueness had stung her.
    Walking back around the desk, she sank into the chair and stared at the computer screen. She didn’t feel much like working. But she wasn’t ready to go home and face her father. And in her present frame of mind, driving into town was probably a bad idea.
    She’d taken this job, in addition to accounting work for the Prescott ranch, in order to add experience to her skimpy résumé. But on the days when her father was at home—browbeating her about her reputation and the need to take an active part in his campaign, the Tyler office had become her refuge. At twenty-two, she was determined to build her own future. And that future didn’t include becoming a pawn in Garn Prescott’s political game.
    On her first day here Lauren had recognized the steel blue Ford pickup—the one she’d first seen parked outside that honkytonk in Blanco Springs. She’d learned from Beau that its lean, dark, and oh-so-hot owner was Sky Fletcher, the Rimrock’s legendary horse whisperer.
    That night at the Blue Coyote she hadn’t even known his name. She’d known only that she’d hit bottom, and the fast-track cure for the pain was to get drunk and get laid. She’d been partway to drunk when the sexy cowboy had shown up in her booth. Sin-black hair, cobalt eyes, and a slow, melting smile . . . It was as if the devil had read her mind and granted her wish.
    But nothing had happened—except that she’d thrown herself at