Hard-Riding Cowboy

Book 3: Kinky Spurs

by Stacey Kennedy

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Megan Harrison is the owner of Kinky Spurs. She’s mortgaged up to her eyeballs and works long days and nights, but she’s living life on her terms, not on her wealthy father’s. She’s done being in the cattle rancher’s shadow. She’s got it all figured out, except for the part that involves Nash Blackshaw. He’s a sexy as hell cowboy whose smile can easily charm her out of her tight jeans. The only problem is—their fathers were business rivals, and Megan and Nash have been taught to hate each other since birth.

Nash Blackshaw, a retired professional bull rider, has responsibilities on top of responsibilities. With his PBR career over due to back injury, and his focus narrowed on heading up the Blackshaw Cattle Company’s Guest Ranch, he shouldn’t have time to think about all the ways he wants Megan. But it’s all he thinks of around the sassy and sweet woman. She might be forbidden to him, but Nash wants to take her for a hard, kinky ride.

But small towns have a way of spreading gossip like wildfire, and not everyone is happy about their relationship. Especially when Megan drops a bombshell on Nash after one heated night between them. As much as Megan and Nash want to forget the old feud between their fathers and lose each other in explosive passion, they can’t escape reality. They are meant to be enemies, and Nash’s sizzling, dominant touch might not be enough to keep them together.

Release date: February 5, 2019

Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Print pages: 200

Sample

“Step one foot closer and kiss your testicles goodbye.”

Most men would have stopped and slowly backed away at the threat. Not Nash Blackshaw. He locked the door of the log cabin and kept on coming with a gorgeous smile that charmed the panties off many women. His messy brown hair drew out the intensity of his blue eyes, which led down to a purely masculine chiseled jawline.

“I wouldn’t stop you from kissing my nuts, Freckles,” Nash murmured, not missing a beat.

Freckles. Megan Harrison had tried to hate the nickname he had given her during their high school years—relating to the freckles spattering her nose—but her heart tripped every time he purred the single word.

Pressed against the wall in the newly built log cabin at the Blackshaw Cattle Guest Ranch, Nash moved with purpose toward Megan, his gaze stalking her. That single statement she muttered had been her last-ditch effort to kill the heat flaring inside her.

She failed miserably.

The bright moon tonight provided ample light showing Nash’s face fully when he passed the window. Her belly flip-flopped at all the promises in his eyes. But Megan could count four very good reasons why she should not be alone with him.

One, they were currently attending the wedding of Chase, Nash’s brother, and Harper, Megan’s best friend. The music and laughter from the reception going on outside at the Blackshaws’ cattle ranch was all but muffled now, but people were still nearby.

Two, Nash went through women like he changed his socks.

Three, the only commitment Megan had ever seen Nash make during all the years they attended the same schools together and hung out in the same circle of friends was to Gus, his yellow Labrador retriever.

Four, Nash was the reckless son of her father’s sworn enemy, Rick Blackshaw. And the long-standing feud between the families over their cattle businesses held strong. For reasons Megan didn’t quite know, Nash was the Blacksaw brother with the deepest animosity toward her father. She didn’t doubt in the least that Nash only wanted her as a dig at her father.

Even so, all those reasons seemed to up and vanish tonight. Megan wanted this one night to sate her hunger. Which was why after their obligatory slow dance as part of the wedding party, she had headed to the last cabin, far away from the other guests, telling herself Nash wouldn’t follow and yet wanting him to do exactly that.

When he finally closed the distance and pressed his hands next to her head against the wall, her nipples hardened. A devilish smile curved his mouth, and he leaned in close. He smelled like pine and pure man, and damn, she wanted all his hotness grinding against her until she screamed his name. He gazed at her mouth before he arched a single eyebrow. “Got any other snappy one-liners, or can I finally kiss this sassy mouth?”

Usually she would have had a smart-ass response, but her brain failed her. She shivered as heat invaded her like a high-grade fever. She pulsed and ached and dampened, desperate for him to sink in deep and show her what he could do.

“This one night,” Megan told him. “That’s it. Never again.” Because her heart had no defense against the likes of Nash Blackshaw.

He nuzzled her neck. “Not even up for a negotiation?”

“There will be no negotiation,” she stated firmly, grasping onto his dress shirt and pulling him closer. “Take tonight or get out.”

“Oh, Freckles, I’m certainly going to have you tonight, let there be no doubt about that.” His low, smooth voice tickled her in all the right places. He brushed his nose down the side of her neck and dropped a kiss there. “Any other demands before I shut off that busy mind of yours?”

God, that touch . . . his lips . . . She moaned.

He leveled her with his cocky smile. A smile he had mastered during his twenty-eight years. This time, though, she saw the slight tremble of his body. The ravenous need running rampant through his veins. Oh, to be the thing that cracked his ironclad composure was sweeter than any chocolate she’d ever tasted.

To give him the answer he sought, she slid her hands along his forearms, relishing the sculpted muscles beneath her fingers, and up his white dress shirt to his wide shoulders. She rose to her tiptoes, pressing her mouth to his as the only response she needed to give. He met the kiss with power and something so much more addictive.

For a single heartbeat, she owned him, but a heartbeat later, a ragged growl rumbled from deep in his chest. He gripped her legs, pulling them up and around his waist. His big hands cupped her bottom, and her back bumped against the wall.

Dear Lord, Nash knew how to kiss a woman into mindless satisfaction. His tongue swirled with hers, skilled and masterful, and the unexpected emotion he poured into his kiss sent her tumbling into sensation. Because Nash wasn’t only testosterone and muscle, he was sensual and passionate. And when he kissed, he meant it.

More, Megan silently begged.

She ground herself against his hardened length pressing against the juncture of her thighs. Yes, this was what she’d wanted. To feel him. To need him. To have him this close.

His low chuckle prickled goose bumps across her arms. “I have waited a long time to have you. You will not rush me.”

She reached for his belt and had his beige slacks open in a second flat. “Wanna bet?”

Nash gave his panty-melting grin. Oh, yeah, that grin was the one she thought about. Every goddamn day. He placed both hands on her hips and turned her slightly, urging her toward the bunk beds. “Yeah, I’ll take that bet.”

Her back met the wooden ladder, and he reached for the thin fabric of her violet-gray bridesmaid’s dress and began lifting. Megan expected him to remove her dress fully. Instead, he surprised her by twisting the fabric until he had used the dress as a makeshift rope and tied her to the ladder behind her.

The heady amusement in his eyes made her squeeze her thighs together tight, pooling heat low in her body. “Are you comfortable with this?” he asked huskily, sliding his hands down her arms to settle onto her hips.

“Yes.”

He brushed his nose against her neck and inhaled deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “Always so tough, Freckles.”

Yeah, she had to be tough around him. She always needed to stay on her toes. That was their game. He would push a little. She would push back hard, never showing weakness.

Tonight, she wanted to let go. Sure, she could blame it on the four glasses of wine creating the slight buzz in her body. But that would be a lie. For this one night, she simply could not fight against what her body and heart so desperately wanted.

Him.

Until tomorrow. Until she saw once again that Nash was running from his pain after the spine injury that had ended his professional bull-riding career. Until she saw that all he wanted to do was win against her father. Until she was reminded that if she let him in, all she would be left with was her heart in tatters.

Just tonight. Only tonight.

A good hard ride, then she’d forget all about Nash Blackshaw.

The inherently masculine sound he made stole away her thoughts when he pulled her bra cups down beneath her breasts, exposing her taut nipples. His wet, cool tongue circled each one before he drew the bud up to the roof of his mouth and sucked. Hard. He nibbled and played, teasing her to madness, before moving onto the next one. She was left gasping and wiggling in the binding on her wrists, aching for more of that skillful tongue. Because if he felt that good kissing and nibbling, how would he feel . . .

Megan sucked in a harsh breath when he traveled lower, kissing along her stomach until his fingers tucked into the edge of her panties and pulled them down. Keeping those gorgeous eyes—that were incredibly sinful when he was aroused—on her face, he lowered to one knee. She trembled, and didn’t feel the least bit ashamed for it, when he leaned in and slid a slow lick across her sex.

Her knees buckled. Her mind went black. “Fiery and sweet,” he murmured against her most sensitive flesh. “A deadly combination.” He circled his thumb over where she needed him most. Her eyes shut tight and she moaned, lost in where he took her. “But you make me crazy, Freckles.” He sucked on her clit hard, and she thrust her hips forward, grinding against his mouth. His low chuckle vibrated against her sex, and every nerve ending awoke under his touch when he slid one finger inside her. Then two. “You make me desperate to watch you fall apart in my arms.” He nibbled on her clit and began pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm.

Sensation flooded her, and her head fell back as a ragged moan slid through her lips.

His fingers stilled. “Look at me.”

Megan lowered her head, and he thrust again. Harder. Faster. She held his stare, somehow knowing that if she looked away, he would stop. And she wanted him to get her there. To take her higher. To push her over the edge.

Then he did.

Megan came against his fingers with a hard shudder and moans she couldn’t have fought even if she tried. Within seconds he was back on his feet and sinking inside her. His condom-covered cock slid with long, slow thrusts, filling her up to perfection. His one hand threaded in her hair, the other holding her hip while he drove deeper.

“I need to see those eyes.”

The fierceness of his voice snapped her eyes open. Then she tumbled into all the promises in the depths of his gaze. Every barrier she had up against him crashed and burned.

For a moment, everything was easy.

Nash was not fighting against all the shit he ran from. His cockiness had vanished. His need to prove he had won was gone.

For this one second, there was only the perfection where two souls touched and knew each other wholly. In that pure moment, she lost herself fully, free falling into the pleasure he offered. She came against him in a hot rush of emotion and satisfaction, with Nash following right behind with a low groan.

Many, many minutes later, she found the strength to reopen her eyes and face reality. Everything beautiful and sweet vanished at the arrogance coupled with determination in Nash’s expression. She knew that look well. She hated that look. “Just tonight,” she reminded him, trying so hard to find her ironclad walls. “This can never happen again.”

Megan caught his smug grin before his lips sealed across hers again. He feverishly kissed her, returning all that heat in an instant, and then he chuckled against her mouth. “Good luck with that, Freckles.”