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CLAY: Armed and Dangerous, will be released this Thursday. It is available for pre-order at any of your favorite ebook retailers:
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Here’s an excerpt just for you!
Rylie slipped on her jacket and headed out the front door as Clay held it open for her. The cool night smelled clean and crisp, the sky clear with stars spattered across its expanse.
“You’ve got a choice to make,” he said as they walked to the black truck parked out front.
She paused in front of the passenger door and looked up at him. “I told you, yes.”
“This one’s not a simple yes or no.” He smiled and reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d like to take you to dinner. The choice is, we can go to a nice place and hope for a quiet evening with no interruptions. Problem is, I can’t seem to go out into public anymore without someone coming up and wanting to give me their opinion on one thing or another. You need to know that it’s a real possibility.”
Rylie leaned in toward him, enjoying his spicy male scent. “And choice number two?”
“Dinner at my place.” His hand slid into her hair and he caressed her scalp. “Just the two of us.”
“That’s a no-brainer.” She rose up on her toes and brushed her lips over his. “Let’s go to your place.”
Ten miles to his ranch. Clay wasn’t sure he could do it. His hands and eyes wanted to wander straight to Rylie. The way her clothes hugged every curve, it nearly killed him. He’d been able to tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and he’d almost bet that she didn’t have on any panties, either. She had taken his dare. Damn, did he want to find that out for sure.
Instead of copping a feel, he kept his hands glued to the steering wheel as they’d talked about everything from the weather to what he’d done before he became sheriff. Whenever he tried to steer the conversation around to her, Rylie managed to evade his questions. As though she didn’t like talking about herself… or maybe she had something to hide?
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he guided the truck from the highway, up the short dirt road, and then parked in front of his home.
“Nice,” Rylie murmured, peering at the house through the starlit night. “What I can see of it, anyway.”
Clay opened his door and walked around to help Rylie, only she was out of the truck before he made it to her side. He took her hand and led her to the house, enjoying the feel of her fingers twined with his.
He unlocked the front door and let her in, then closing it behind them. “How does steak sound?” he asked as he flipped on the track lighting.
“As long as it’s medium rare, I’ll love it.”
“Done.” He took off his Western hat and tossed it onto the back of a recliner, then raked his fingers through his hair.
Rylie slid off her jean jacket and laid it next to his hat as she glanced around the living room that was done in Western decor from oxblood-brown leather sofas and chairs to end tables made from knotty pine. Bookcases along one wall were filled with novels on the American West, along with tales by Zane Grey, Louis L’Amour, and other Western authors.
“For a bachelor, you have great taste.” She moved to one end table and touched the bronze statue of a bucking bronco doing its best to unseat its rider.
Clay’s mouth watered as he watched Rylie trail her fingers down the statue. He cleared his throat and came to stand beside her. “My youngest sister’s into decorating and insisted that a sheriff needs appropriate digs.”
“It suits you.” Rylie tilted her head up and looked at him, her lips slightly parted, her chocolate eyes focused on him. “Rough… untamed… and utterly male.” The desire in her gaze slammed into him like a fist to his gut. Before he even had a chance to act on his instinct, she moved into his arms and wrapped her arm around his neck.
“I don’t know what you do to me,” she murmured. “I barely know you, but all I can think about is sex when I’m near you.”
“You make it real hard to think about anything else.” Clay pulled her body tight against his and fisted his hands under her jean skirt. His fingers slid down and he discovered she was wearing nothing underneath, just as he’d dared her to do. A groan rumbled from his chest, and he throbbed with scalding need.
She reached up and flicked her tongue over his bottom lip and then gently nipped it. Damn, but the sensation was erotic. He’d never had a woman bite his lip before, and he couldn’t believe what it did to him.
Unable to stand her sweet torture any longer, Clay crushed his mouth against hers, devouring her, filling himself with her sweet taste. Rylie’s tongue met his, her kiss as hard and demanding as his own.
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