Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2 (16 page)

Epilogue

Ruthie flapped a hand at the camera. “Get that thing away from me. I look fat.”

“What? Oh no, no, no. You look beautiful, especially wearing that disgruntled expression I love so well.” Damian took two photos of her.

She twisted from the lens, trying to suppress a giggle. In the past five months he’d lived with her, he’d taken thousands of pictures of her. He claimed it was practice for his own business, which he’d started last month and already had money rolling in. “Do we really need another photo of me wearing a robe and cooking you breakfast?”

He lowered the camera. “As a matter of fact, no.” He shoved the camera into her hands and took the spatula from her. He shut off the stove before the pancakes burned and approached her slowly.

“I know that look on your face. Put down the spatula!” She squealed and dodged through the door to the hallway. He thundered behind her, and she threw herself into their bedroom. “Damian! You’re going to make me late for work.”

He chuckled, low and promising. He smacked the spatula off his hand. “I’ll call in and say you’re sick. Actually you’ll be tied to my bed, letting me paddle you with this.” He hit the plastic off his palm with a crack so loud her skin rippled.

Desire pooled between her thighs. His eyes blazed as he pursued her. She backed up until her legs struck the mattress. She plopped down and his grin spread.

“I knew you’d see it my way.”

“No, I really need to go to school today. I’m giving a math test.”

He waved the spatula. “Give the poor kids a day off. We all deserve it.”

He did deserve it. For months he hadn’t taken a single break from his learning. After some testing she’d determined how to teach him without the frustrations of his youth. Teaching him was still a challenge, but he devoured every word she put before him.

The past few months had been the best of her life. They’d started a life together, which even Andrew accepted. Shortly after she’d broken the news to him, Andrew had started seeing the high school PE teacher, and they seemed happy.

Damian looked as if he’d eat her up.

Her nipples throbbed for his touch. Lately they’d been ultra-sensitive and she couldn’t get enough of him sucking them.

“Baby, get on your hands and knees.”

A thrill shot through her. Still, she felt she ought to at least
try
to go to school today. Before she could expel the words, he tapped her outer thigh with the spatula. The sting traveled through her nerve endings, and her pussy squeezed hard.

“On your hands and knees.”

He maneuvered her into the position he wanted her. He stripped off her robe, leaving her bare. Then he kicked off his lounge pants and underwear and grabbed the rope.

It had been knotted and unknotted so many times in the past months it was soft and pliant. He began to loop it, trapping her breasts and partway down her arms. When he got to her midsection, she stopped him.

“Strawberries.”

He jerked, shock spelled all over his handsome face. Never had she used that word with him. “Baby—”

“Not my belly,” she said slowly.

It took a minute for his eyes to register what she was saying. His jaw dropped. “You mean…?”

She nodded and grabbed his hand. She pasted it to her stomach where their child was growing. “Yours.”

His breathing hitched. Joy flashed across his features, and his whisper was throaty. “Are you serious?”

She nodded, feeling the same excitement she’d known yesterday after having her pregnancy confirmed by her doctor. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise—shortly after returning home they’d ditched the condoms altogether. Yet they were having so much fun, she rarely thought of a baby.

Damian buried his face against her neck and dragged in a harsh breath. “God, Ruthie. I…I’m so happy.”

Tears sparked in her eyes. She angled her head, and he took the hint, kissing her in the special spot that made her wriggle.

Too soon he stopped kissing her. He leaned to the side and snagged something off the nightstand.

Anticipation fed into her system as he uncapped the berry-colored lipstick and applied it to her skin—right across her abdomen. She started to look down, but he caught her chin between his thumb and finger. “Don’t look yet. Let me finish binding you.”

He pressed her onto her back and she lay still for him to create a network of lines and knots across her hips and thighs. This time he didn’t tie her to the bed but left her loose.

She stared at the peace and happiness etched on his face. “I don’t think I could love you more.”

He smiled, crinkles appearing around his eyes. “That’s good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Her stomach flipped. “Can I look?”

“Look.” He hovered to the side as she looked down at her stomach.

Mine
was printed neatly across her skin. The E was backward but it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. A sob bubbled up, and he trapped it with his mouth. Their kiss was sweet and filled with tenderness.

As he covered her with his body and sensation stole her mind, her last thought was total pride that she would be joined with him. Forever.

About the Author

Em Petrova lives in Backwoods, Pennsylvania, where she raises four kids and a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff. She loves to write about hardworking heroes—in bed and out—and is known for panty-scorching erotic romance.

Look for these titles by Em Petrova

Now Available:

Country Fever

Hard Ridin’

Lip Lock

Unbroken

Somethin’ Dirty

Boot Knockers

Pushin’ Buttons

Coming Soon:

Reining Men

It’s all in her head. Until she falls into the hands—and hearts—of two cowboys.

Pushin’ Buttons

© 2014 Em Petrova

The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 1

Sexual dysfunction. The words make Sibyll cringe, but after one too many failed relationships, she has to face reality. Her O-button is broken, big time. Sick of sitting on the sexual sidelines, she books a week at Boot Knockers Ranch. If a passel of rugged cowboys vying to bring her bliss can’t get her off, nothing will.

Hugh had planned to sit out this week’s rotation of sexual therapy, but when he spots sultry Sibyll, he pulls rank. His bone-deep urge to possess her isn’t enough to coax elusive orgasms out of her body, though. And his resolve to give the lady whatever she needs wavers when she shyly makes a mind-blowing request.

Riggs stepped aside when Hugh muscled in to claim Sibyll, but he jumps at the chance to fulfill her ultimate fantasy—a threesome. But once they come together, all barriers are stripped away, exposing his love for the one man—and woman—he’d break every last rule to make his own.

Warning: This ain’t your daddy’s ranch. Contains cowboys administering sexual therapy to frustrated ladies – and each other. Fresh batteries recommended. You’re gonna need ’em!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Pushin’ Buttons:

“And…you’re on!” The perky woman with the clipboard flashed her too-white smile toward the group of women trembling off-stage.

Sibyll shrank back, glad she wasn’t up first. Sure, she’d applied to be with one of these hot cowboys on the Boot Knockers Ranch. She’d spent hours taking and retaking her profile picture and filling out the application so she looked as appealing as possible. But now that she was faced with standing on a stage, talking about her…
dysfunction
in front of rough-and-tumble types, she was about to pee her pants with nervousness.

Beside Sibyll, a lanky blonde with legs for miles sucked in a harsh breath and stepped onto the brightly-lit stage. The way her shoulders slumped and she wrung her hands spoke of her nervousness and possible self-esteem issues. Hell, Sibyll was here for that very reason, among other things. Maybe all the women were.

Let the Boot Knockers fulfill your wildest fantasies while showing you just how beautiful you really are.
Sibyll had practically memorized the pamphlet for the Boot Knockers Ranch—two hundred acres of prime Texas grazing land operated by twenty cowboys who specialized in helping women…well, sexually.

The word made Sibyll cringe. For a woman who’d never experienced an orgasm, those three little letters—S-E-X—obviously tormented her daily.

Booking a spot here at the Boot Knockers Ranch and hoping for a few tumbles in one of the cowboy’s beds had taken a supreme act of nerve. She’d also been spurred on by her latest failed sexual encounter with her boyfriend of three months.

Frigid, sexless,
he’d called her when she’d failed to reach her peak. The blow to his ego had probably been huge, but she was finished faking orgasm to gratify a man. What about them gratifying her?

I probably can’t be satisfied. Even if those doctors said it’s all in my head.

Her stomach bottomed out as she watched the leggy blonde in the flood of spotlights, on display for the Boot Knockers. They were asking her questions, which she answered in a muffled voice.

“What if no one chooses me? What if I have to go home a virgin?” a young woman beside Sibyll squeaked. It was everyone’s worst fear, though unfounded. They’d made it through the screening process—they were in.

According to the pamphlet no one went home unsatisfied. That’s why their screening process was so in-depth. The Boot Knockers sifted through piles of applications to find the women they could help the most. Then once on the ranch, a question and answer period preceded the actual selection—when one or more hunky cowboys of the woman’s choosing stood up to fight over her.

Upon arrival, Sibyll had spent almost an hour with a woman named Holly looking over the photographs of the cowboys and selecting which ones she was attracted to. They were all so…
hot.
She’d be happy with almost any of them—they were more her type than the guys she’d dated.

Just the idea of someone fighting over her—let alone a virile man in jeans and boots—made Sibyll’s insides tingle.

Sibyll gave the young woman a soft smile. The girl couldn’t be more than twenty-five, which wasn’t that old to still be a virgin. Sibyll wanted to say, “Come back when you’re thirty.”
Or come back when you’re thirty-five and haven’t come even by your own hand.

A shiver rolled down her spine, and she tugged at the collar of her white, button-down shirt. Her black pencil skirt, heels and white shirt felt stuffy, the cloth binding her to certain failure. Dressed as she was, she’d step onstage and the cowboys would start sniggering until the whole room rang with laughter.

“Holy hell, look at that one,” the virgin said.

Sibyll followed her gaze to the door between stage entrance and hallway several feet away. His back was to her and the other dozen women, his shoulders taking up most of the door frame and his white T-shirt molded to a chiseled back. Sibyll outlined his back muscles with her gaze, cutting a path down to a backside hugged by worn denim.

The cowboy pivoted. His face was illuminated by the overhead lights as he talked to the perky Isabel, the ringleader of this insane audition process.

“He has a black eye!” someone whispered.

“From a bar fight? Please let it be from a bar fight!” a woman with a gorgeous head of red hair and thick glasses added.

The cowboy raised his head and stared at the women. Suddenly Sibyll’s muscles tensed to run. She didn’t want to be here, had made the wrong decision.
So what if I can’t experience “physical and emotional sensation at the peak of sexual excitation” according to Dictionary.com?

Isabel swooped through the door and pointed at the curvaceous brunette to Sibyll’s right. “You’re next.” Then she returned to the doorway, where she leaned and talked to the cowboy with the black eye.

Dust motes swirled hectically in the lights streaming from the stage. Sibyll tried to follow one with her eyes. Anything to keep from looking directly at that cowboy’s handsome, rugged face.

He was huge—tall and broad and muscled in all the ways that made the knot in Sibyll’s core want to unravel. But it never did.

Maybe if he fights to win me, I could.

He glanced up again, and the group of women tittered. The leggy blonde was led offstage on the arm of a cowboy wearing all black except his shiny silver and turquoise belt buckle.

“Wow, he’s fine. Jenny’s lucky to get him,” the virgin whispered after they passed. They stopped at the door, and the production manager moved to the side so they could pass.

The black-eyed cowboy with the two-day-old dark stubble on his jaw shook hands with both cowboy and contestant.

“You—sexy secretary—you’re next.” The production manager jabbed a finger in Sibyll’s direction.

She looked around herself. A slight girl to her right wore a peasant dress and thong sandals, and the tall, toned girl to her left wore sporty shorts and a T-shirt with an energy drink logo.

“Wh—? Me?” Sibyll pointed to her chest.

“Yep, you.” The production manager whirled back to speak with the cowboy, but he’d strolled through the door and was making his molasses-sweet way across the stage.

He passed the first group of contestants, who froze like a herd of deer in the middle of Highway 495. He dipped his head and positioned a battered brown cowboy hat on it. “Howdy,” he drawled, lips curled in the perfect dose of Southern gentleman and cocky bad-boy.

Feminine sighs sounded in response. Sibyll’s heart thumped as he neared her small group standing closest to the stage. The closer he got, the more his bulk seemed to take up all the space in the room. Or maybe that was testosterone.

He dropped a wink at the virgin and leaned in to speak to her. “The black eye was nothin’ as glamorous as a kick-ass bar fight. Took a hoof yesterday working with the horses.” He straightened and settled his gaze right on Sibyll.

Summertime and the lovin’ is easy...until it’s not.

Summer Fling

© 2014 Mari Carr & Jayne Rylon

Compass Girls, Book 3

Too much love and loss taught Jade Compton to protect her heart and her sanity by steering clear of all that romance nonsense. She’s doing just fine, working two jobs, hanging out with her cousins and her best friend, Liam.

But when a combination of unbearable heat wave and a case of the boredom blues knocks her down, she longs to do something spontaneous…maybe even a little bit reckless.

Liam Harrison met Jade when she was sixteen—in the local cemetery. If he’s learned anything after eight years of friendship, it’s that Jade has a wild streak a mile wide. And while he doesn’t want to tame the adventurous woman, he wouldn’t mind showing her a few sexy ways to channel some of her impulsiveness. With him. In the bedroom.

When he proposes a sexy, no-strings-attached summer fling, Jade jumps at the chance to spice things up and indulge some pretty kinky fantasies. Then summer ends…and Jade comes to the uncomfortable realization that there’s only one place she’s comfortable in her own skin—Liam’s arms.

Warning: Excessive heat in this story—in the bedroom, the barn, the kitchen, the bar. Drink lots of water. Stay hydrated!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Summer Fling:

“She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling edgy lately. Restless. I mean, look around, Liam. Is this all there is to life? Every single day is déjà vu and not in a good way. It’s like I’m trapped in the horror movie that is my life, forced to endure the same stupid things over and over and over again.”

Liam frowned. “So what are you saying? You want to leave Compton Pass?”

“No.” Jade closed her eyes wearily. “This is my home. I don’t want to leave. My whole family is here and with Vivi’s memory getting worse…” Her words fell away as her shoulders slumped. She was in a funk. Usually life didn’t get her down, but for the past few months, she’d struggled to shirk off her constant state of unhappiness. The worst part was she didn’t really know what was bothering her. She was suffering from what Vivi called a case of the blues. And she had it bad.

Liam reached out to touch her arm. “Maybe you’re just bothered about your grandmother’s illness. Alzheimer’s can take its toll and you’ve been watching Vicky’s decline for a couple of years now.”

She shrugged. “I
am
worried about Vivi, but I don’t think that’s what’s wrong with me. Not really.”

“Then what?”

“I’m stuck in a rut. I work at the ranch. I tend bar here. I hang out with my cousins and you. I eat the same breakfast every day. The same damn lunch. I break up the same ridiculous redneck fights week after week. I’m coming out of my skin. It makes me want to do something crazy, wild, impulsive.”

“What else is new?”

She shot him a dirty look that he ignored.

“Fine, kiddo. Be impulsive.”

She released a quick snort. “Easier said than done. I’m Jade Compton, the sheriff’s daughter, one of the Compass Girls. Sometimes it feels like I have a thousand eyes on me—all watching out, ready to protect me the second I step one tiny toe over the line into anything that could be potentially dangerous. I’m living my life swaddled in freaking Bubble Wrap.”

Liam laughed. “I don’t know about that. It seems to me you’ve managed to do some damage. Weren’t you the girl who got pulled over by her father for going a hundred and twenty on her motorcycle?”

“Yes. And I caught holy hell for it too. Uncle Silas is still reading me the riot act for that, and it happened nearly six months ago.”

Liam leaned against Bruce’s car. Her boss always parked in the alley. “I bet he is. That is one man I’d never wanna piss off.”

Jade blew out a long breath and tugged at her T-shirt. “It doesn’t help that it’s a gazillion degrees this summer. I’m tired of being hot. It’s like I’m living in a pool of my own sweat with my clothes sticking to my skin every time I step outside.”

“Attractive image. Thanks for sharing.”

She grinned. Liam always knew how to talk her out of her anger. No matter how mad or annoyed she might be, Liam managed to calm her down. “Okay. You win. I’m finished bitching.”

“So what’s your plan for getting out of your depression?”

She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just have to come up with something spontaneous and reckless. Maybe I’ll jump my motorcycle over Beyer’s Creek. I can sell tickets and put on a flashy pantsuit. I can even come up with a cool stunt-girl name like Jumpin’ Jade.”

“Selling tickets hardly makes it an impulsive act.”

She could tell he wasn’t taking her seriously and her pride kicked in, his
whatever
attitude rubbing her the wrong way. “Then maybe I should do something even more stupid.”

“And what would that be?” His casual tone tweaked her temper and made her long to wipe the smug smile off his face. As always, she acted without thinking.

“This.” She gripped his shirt in her hands and tugged him close, kissing him roughly. She felt him stiffen with surprise, the response appeasing her enough that she released him with a superior laugh. Served him right for dragging her out of the bar and then not believing her when she threatened to do something insane. He was her friend. The least he could do was play along when she was in a mood.

His eyes narrowed, pleasing her even more. Liam was a hard person to shock, so it felt good to shake the cocky man up.

“Oh my God, you should see your face right now, Liam.”

Her laughter died when Liam grasped her cheeks in his large palms and pulled her forward.

“Apparently you need a lesson in recklessness, Jade.”

“Wha—” She didn’t have a chance to ask what the hell he was doing before Liam placed his lips on hers and kissed her. Shock held her still for a full minute as Liam took charge of her mouth. His grip was firm, directing her face this way and that as he pressed her lips apart and started exploring her mouth with his tongue.

Part of her was compelled to shove him away. She’d only meant the kiss as a joke. This was Liam, for God’s sake. For eight years, he’d been her best friend. They didn’t kiss.

But damn if he didn’t know his way around a mouth. Jade lifted her hands to his shoulders. Her initial intention had been to push back, but once her fingers found the firm muscles on his upper arms, she decided to indulge in a little exploration of her own.

Liam twisted them until she was pressed against Bruce’s car, his body leaning into hers. One of his hands left her face, caressing its way along her neck, briefly touching her breast before latching on to her waist. He used his grip to tug her lower body even closer to his.

She didn’t turn him on. Did she?