Excerpt from Shady Lady (Pistols & Petticoats)
"I see you talk too much, cowboy."
A reluctant flicker of mirth stole across his chiseled features—features so golden-brown, that they might have adorned a sun god.
"You think I'm all talk and no action, eh?"
"Well... you have been surprisingly slow to claim your prize." Sadie arched an eyebrow, daring Cass to take her on.
A dimple creased his cheek. His smirk was wholly masculine and shamelessly confident in his primal allure. The proof of that animal magnetism sent a shock wave through her feminine core, one that made her Tigress purr. A delicious little thrill coursed her spine to know that William Cassidy was every bit the wily coyote that she'd first thought him to be.
Still, he reined in his baser self, letting her mouth water for his kisses. He drank her in with those mesmerizing eyes, eyes that glowed with so many mingled shades of heaven that it was impossible to discern where one stopped and the next began: turquoise, azure, cyan, midnight-blue.
She searched those lambent depths for the untold tales of daily living that had shaped the character of the boy she'd once schooled in the sexual arts, the boy who was now a hunted man. She supposed she should be flattered that Cass had risen above a renegade's habitual cynicism to treat her with sensitivity and respect.
The problem was, she didn't know how to behave in the face of so much chivalry. She'd never had a knight in shining armor come to her bed before.
"So..." She cleared her throat, searching for a bridge so the noble knight could ride into her red-light world. "How did you get dubbed the Rebel Rutter?"
"Whipped cream? Feathers? Fur?"
She cocked her head. "Lasso and bandanna?"
He darted a less-than-noble glance at the garters spanning her exposed thighs. "That could be fun."
Her belly heated at the wicked promise throbbing just beneath the surface of his drawl. "You're the one who wanted to talk, Cassidy. So fess up."
"Well... all right." He let the other dimple peek. "Exceptional stamina."
She gave him a Cheshire-cat grin. "That's new."
"I've been practicing," he said drolly.
"For a reunion with me?"
Liar. She was thoroughly enjoying his game now. "Show me."
"Tonight, I'm being a gentleman."
"Lucky me. Sounds like I'll be getting plenty of sleep."
She shrieked when he pounced, bowling her back into the pillows.
"You're a saucy wench," he growled.
"You like saucy."
He chuckled, the sound low and deep, vibrating into her belly through the heat of his buckle. "Saucy's better than spoiled."
"Or virginal," she dead-panned.
His teeth flashed in a predatory grin. "Oh, I don't know. Teaching has its merits."
She smirked, sliding a bold hand over his derriere. "Depends on the student."
"I'll consider that a compliment."
"You do that," she said huskily, kneading his buttocks with catlike finesse. "So tell me, lover. Whose turn is it to play teacher? Yours or mine?"
"Definitely mine," he growled, slanting his mouth across hers.