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Tule Publishing Quotes

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Tule Publishing Quotes

“She didn’t notice the partially fogged vanity mirror as she walked toward the bathroom, either—two thick fluffy towels in hand. Not until she was inside anyway and a pair of jeans and fringed leather chaps tossed carelessly over the edge of the vanity came into view. She almost dropped the towels as she spun around. “Hey.” The Dixie Chicks crooning, there’s your trouble, straight into her ear was a particularly ironic twist.”

“Do I look stupid to you? That thing is just plain crazy.” “And when was the last time you did something crazy?” Joss cocked an eyebrow. Was he kidding? “You have to ask?” A slow lazy grin warmed his face. “That wasn’t crazy. That was hot.” She rolled her eyes. He would say that, wouldn’t he? “My skirt.” “Is long.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Too long to flash anything when you fall off.” “When huh?” He nodded. “When.” “I’m more worried it might end up above my head.” He laughed but stopped abruptly when she glared at him. “I promise I won’t look when you get tossed.” Joss glanced around her at the full restaurant. “And what about the other hundred people in here?” “Oh come on.” He affected an air of fake severity. “Good decent southern folk would surely avert their eyes from a lady in a state of undress.” She snorted. Half the men in here would trample over their wives for a glimpse of panties.”

“Now, grip the bull tight with your thighs.” She dutifully tensed her thighs. “Not tense. Grip. Real hard with your whole thigh.” His voice dropped, his lips pressing in closer to her ear as he murmured, “I know you know how to do that.” A surge of heat shot from her core. Didn’t he know she was having a hard enough time sitting on the damn thing as it was without sexual innuendo messing with her equilibrium? She shot him a don’t-make-me-get-off-this-thing look but gripped. Hard. “Atta girl,” he whispered. Joss gritted her teeth. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.”

“Think you can last eight seconds?” Joss was one hundred percent, absolutely, positively certain that she would not. She was even more certain that she’d break something. Unfortunately, nerves made her mouthy. “Eight seconds, huh? I heard you rodeo guys had a short fuse. We have pills for that now you know?” He laughed and his lips were suddenly close to her ear again. “I can go longer than eight seconds as you well know. But even if that were true, I promise you, doc, it’d be the best eight seconds of your life.” Great. Now all she was going to think about while a piece of machinery spun and bucked beneath her was riding Troy in exactly the same way. Was it possible to have a mechanical-bull-induced orgasm? That would be seriously embarrassing. Certainly more than the good folk of Plainview would have expected from an innocent night out at the Bull Bar. There were children watching for the love of Mike.”

“She broke off the kiss again on a strangled gasp, staring at him, her chest heaving. “We’re not having sex here tonight.” Even as she said it, she rode his thigh harder. Troy’s eyes almost rolled back in his head at her barely leashed restraint, at the buck of hips that didn’t seem to buy the message her mouth was selling. “Okay,” he agreed. If she chose to dry hump him all the way to orgasm beneath a billion stars he’d be in that.”

“I can’t have sex with you, Troy.” “Yeah. You’ve mentioned it once or twice.” She groaned again. “It’s just that…you’re so damn tempting.” He grinned. At her conflict and the absurdity of it. As if they were teenagers who’d sworn a virginity pledge and had the purity rings to prove it. He rolled up on his side, supporting his head with his palm. “I’m sorry. For being so tempting.” She snorted. “No you’re not.” Troy laughed. “You’re right. I’m not.”

“I meant what I said about sex.” His hand slid all the way up her leg, pushing what little skirt was still covering her out of the way, holding it in a bunch at her belly button. Her nudity was fully exposed to his gaze and he looked his fill, breathing out hard. “Who said anything about sex?” He leaned in, his mouth dropping to the pale slice of skin between where his hand held her skirt and the thatch of hair between her legs. She wasn’t trimmed as was the fashion among the women he usually took to his bed but Troy was not a fussy guy and here, under the stars, his head filling with the musky scent of her arousal, au naturel seemed fitting. The ragged pant of her breathing stuttered into the air as he lazily stroked his tongue down. Down. Down. Down. She roused. Shifted. Raised herself up on her elbows, her abs tightening, her thighs tensing. “I think you’ll find that still counts,” she said, obviously throwing one last-ditch effort into denying herself the pleasure she so clearly craved. He chuckled low, his warm breath fanning her belly, satisfied to feel gooseflesh stippling the soft skin. “If you think this is sex, you need to read some more textbooks, doc.”