Authors: Lorelei James
Tags: #Blacktop Cowboy, #Lorelei James, #erotic romance, #1001 Dark Nights
Stripped Down (16 page)
London is humiliated when her boyfriend dumps her for a rodeo queen. What makes the situation worse? She’s forced to see the lovebirds on the rodeo circuit every weekend. In an attempt to save face, London agrees to assist the notoriously mild, but ruggedly handsome Sutton Grant with his horse training problem on one condition: Sutton has to pretend to be her new boyfriend.
But make believe doesn't last long between the sassy cowgirl and the laid-back bulldogger. When the attraction between them ignites, London learns that sexy Sutton is no Saint when that bedroom door closes; he's the red-hot lover she's always dreamed of.
The more time they spend together, the more Sutton realizes he wouldn’t mind being roped and tied to the rough and tumble cowgirl for real…
* * * *
“Why me?”
“Because we both know the only people who’ve been able to work with him have been you and me.”
She sucked in a few breaths and forced herself to loosen her fists. “This wouldn’t be an issue if you hadn’t browbeaten my folks into selling Dial to you outright. When the breeder owns the horse and a rider goes down, other people are in place to keep the horse conditioned. That responsibility isn’t pushed aside.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I’m feelin’ good about any of this? Fuck. I hired people to work with him and the stubborn bastard chased them all off. A couple of them literally.”
London smirked. “That’s my boy.”
“Your boy is getting fatter and meaner by the day,” Sutton retorted. “I’m afraid if I let him go too much longer it’ll be too late and he’ll be as worthless as me.”
Worthless? Dude. Look in the mirror much? How could Sutton be out of commission and still look like he’d stepped off the pages of
Buff and Beautiful Bulldogger
magazine?
“I hope the reason you’re so quiet is because you’re considering my offer.”
London’s gaze zoomed to his. “How do you know you can afford me?”
“I don’t. I get that you’re an expert on this particular horse and I’m willing to pay you for that expertise.” Sutton sidestepped her and rested his big body next to hers—close to hers—against the fence. “I know it’ll sound stupid, but every time I grab the tack and head out to catch Dial to try and work him, even when I’m not supposed to, I feel his frustration that I’m not doin’ more. I ain’t the kind of man that sees a horse—my horse—as just a tool. Your folks knew that about me or they wouldn’t have sold him to me for any amount of money.”
“Yeah. I do know that,” she grudgingly admitted, “but you should also know that I wouldn’t be doin’ this for you or the money, I’d be doin’ it for Dial.”
“That works for me. There’s another reason that I want you. Only you.”
“Which is?”
His unwavering stare unnerved her, as if he was gauging whether he could trust her. Finally he said, “Strictly between us?”
She nodded.
“If it’s decided I’ll never compete again, you’re in the horse world more than I am and you’ll ensure Dial gets where he needs to be.”
London hadn’t been expecting that. Sutton had paid a shit ton for Dial, and he hadn’t suggested she’d help him sell the horse to a proper owner, just that she’d help him find one. In her mind that meant he really had Dial’s best interest at heart. Not that she believed for an instant Sutton Grant intended to retire from steer wrestling. First off, he was barely thirty. Second, rumor had it his drive to win was as wide and deep as the Colorado River.
As she contemplated how to respond, she saw her ex, Stitch, with Princess Paige plastered to his side, meandering their direction.
Dammit. Not now.
After the incident this morning, she’d steered clear of the exhibitor’s hall where the pair had handed out autographs and barf bags. She felt the overwhelming need to escape, but if she booked it across the corral, it’d look like she was running from them.
Screw that. Screw them. She was not in the wrong.
“London? You look ready to commit murder. What’d I say?”
She gazed up at him. The man was too damn good-looking, so normally she wouldn’t have a shot at a man like him. But he did say he’d do
anything
...
“Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll work with Dial, but you’ve gotta do something for me. Uh, two things actually.”
“Name them.”
How much to tell him? She didn’t want to come off desperate. Still, she opted for the truth. “Backstory: my boyfriend dumped me via text last month because he’d hooked up with a rodeo queen. Because he and I were together when I made my summer schedule, that means I will see them every fucking weekend. All summer.”
“And?”
“And I don’t wanna be known as that poor pathetic London Gradsky pining over her lost love.”
Sutton’s eyes turned shrewd. “
Are
you pining for him?”
“Mostly I’m just pissed. It needs to look like I’ve moved on. So I realize your nickname is ‘The Saint’ and you don’t—”
“Don’t call me that,” he said crossly. “Tell me what you need.”
“The first thing I’d need is you to play the part of my new boyfriend.”
That shocked him, but he rallied with, “I can do that. When does this start?”
“Right now, ’cause here they come.” London plastered her front to his broad chest and wreathed her arms around his neck. “And make this look like the real deal, bulldogger.”
“Any part of you that’s hands off for me?”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course “The Saint” would ask first. “Nope.”
Sutton bestowed that fuck-me-now grin. “I can work with that.” He curled one hand around the back of her neck and the other around her hip.
When it appeared he intended to take his own sweet time kissing her, she took charge, teetering on tiptoe since the man was like seven feet tall. After the first touch of their lips, he didn’t dive into her mouth in a fake show of passion. He rubbed his half-parted lips across hers, each pass silently coaxing her to open up a little more. Each tease of his breath on her damp lips made them tingle.
She muttered, “Kiss me like you mean business.”
Those deceptively gentle kisses vanished and Sutton unleashed himself on her. Lust, passion, need. The kiss was way more powerful and take charge than she’d expected from a man nicknamed “The Saint.”
Her mind shut down to everything but the sensuous feel of his tongue twining around hers as he explored her mouth, the soft stroking of his thumb on her cheek, and the possessive way his hand stroked her, as if it knew her intimately.
Then Sutton eased back, treating her lips to nibbles, licks, and lingering smooches. “Think they’re gone?” he murmured.
“Who?”
He chuckled. “Your ex.”
“Oh. Right. Them.” She untwined her fingers from his soft hair and let her arms drop—slowly letting her hands flow over his neck and linebacker shoulders and that oh-so-amazing chest.
Their gazes collided the second she realized Sutton’s heart beat just as crazily as hers did.
“So did that pass as the real deal kiss you wanted? Or do I need to do it again?”
Yes, please.
Don’t be a pushover. Let him know who’s in charge.
London smoothed her hand down her blouse. “For future reference, that type of kiss will work fine.”
Sutton smirked. “It worked
fine
for me too, darlin’.”
On behalf of 1001 Dark Nights,
Liz Berry and M.J. Rose would like to thank ~
Steve Berry
Doug Scofield
Kim Guidroz
Jillian Stein
InkSlinger PR
Dan Slater
Asha Hossain
Chris Graham
Pamela Jamison
Jessica Johns
Dylan Stockton
Richard Blake
BookTrib After Dark
The Dinner Party Show
and Simon Lipskar
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