Marketing hotshot Monica Kaur has put her big-city life on hold to help bail out her brother s failing motel. Now she s got three months to plan and promote a rodeo, the first her tiny hometown has ever seen. To ensure the rodeo s success, Monica enlists a local hero, a rancher s son who s made a name for himself on the bull-riding circuit. Problem? She can t stop daydreaming about the cocky bastard and all the things she longs to do to him out behind the chutes. Professional bullfighter Dean MacKinnon is home helping his family while his father fights cancer. Haunted by bad memories, jaded by love, Dean finds escape in a no-strings-attached go-round with brainy, sexy Monica, whose close-knit Sikh-American family would sooner run him out of town than see her with a notorious rodeo romeo. In private, Monica and Dean play as hard as they work. But as the rodeo draws near, that clean break they promised each other is getting more and more hung up in the rigging.
“Warning: Contains rope play, motel nooners, a blue-eyed charmer with a taste for kink, and a brown-eyed princess with a taste for cowboys.”
“So,” he whispered against her lips. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was barely audible, a ghost of air carried away by the wind.
“I think you know.” He kissed her again, and before she knew what was happening, he’d pulled her down to the ground with him. The dry grass and soft blanket of flowers crinkled like hot paper beneath them. He sat down and she straddled him, her knees crushing petals that looked like orange fire in the desert.
Dean took off his hat, placed it on the ground, and traced a trail of hot kisses down the side of her neck. Pleasure ran a circuit through her body, firing her nerve endings as her lust rose to high tide.
She dug her hands through his dark hair. It was silky, long enough to curl. When he began to lay hot, open-mouthed kisses on her throat, she grabbed his hair in her fingers and tugged at it gently. A low moan rumbled in his chest.
His lips found hers again. They quickly established a rhythm of breath and tongues that pulled all consciousness from her brain. She was flying, far too high on Dean to realize she was riding him, rubbing herself against the hardening bulge in his jeans.
He broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers. He let go of her waist and dragged his fingers through her hair, clasping it and gently pulling it back until her lips parted with a gasp.
“Tell me what you want.” His deep voice sent shivers up her spine.
She was silent, paralyzed with pleasure.
“Tell me what you want, Monica,” he said again. His firm tone made her insides clench. Already she could feel how wet she was, how ready.
“You need it. Same as I do.” He touched her face and skimmed his fingertips down her throat. “Don’t you?”
“I do.” She was still. “But no one can know about this.”
“Dean, I’m serious. Not a soul. Promise me.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
Mia Hopkins writes lush romances starring fun, sexy characters who love to get down and dirty. She’s a sucker for working class heroes, brainy heroines and wisecracking best friends. When she’s not lost in a story, Mia spends her time cooking, gardening, traveling, volunteering and looking for her keys. In a past life, she was a classroom teacher and still has a pretty good “teacher voice” and “teacher stare.” She lives in the heart of Los Angeles with her roguish husband and two waggish dogs.