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Cannon looked at his watch as he cleared his throat. “Have you made your decision?”
“You’re not a patient man, are you?”
“I’m afraid not.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m a busy man.”
“Is that why you can’t find a real girlfriend?”
He ignored her question. “I’m a closer. I negotiate until both sides get what they want.
What do you want to close this deal?”
He really did want to treat this as a business arrangement.
“You have to tell me why you need a date.”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to your potential weekend girlfriend.”
He opened his mouth but before he could speak she corrected herself.
“Your potential pretend weekend girlfriend. You asked what my terms were and now I’m
telling you.” She arched a brow at him. “I’ll walk.”
***
Tamara Hoffa
Tamara Hoffa
Chase looked up from his beer when the bar door opened again, and his eyes widened. Hot damn! There was a goddess standing in the doorway. Holy shit, that was one hot woman…and that hair? He could already feel it sliding against his skin as she rode him like a wild stallion. Bet it will feel like silk.
The woman must be visiting in town, because he’d never seen her before, and unfortunately, he knew all the locals. Fresh meat. Yee haw, he knew the filly he was going after tonight. The goddess had paused at the entrance and scanned the interior, once she had her bearings she headed to the bar.
Chase let her settle into her seat and order her drink before he made his move. The bartender sat what looked like a strawberry daiquiri in front of the woman as Chase walked up to her side. She swiveled on her stool to face him and gave a thorough once over. Her gaze swept from his face down to the tips of his polished cowboy boots and then back up again, pausing for a long moment on his groin, which swelled behind his zipper at her perusal.
When she finally made it back to his face, their eyes locked. Hers were gleaming with interest and a smile curved her lips.
Chase cocked a brow and tipped his hat. “Hello, beautiful. I hate to sound cliché, but are you new around these parts?”
Samantha laughed. “Hello yourself, cowboy. I don’t think I’ll answer your question. I prefer to be a woman of mystery.”
“Mystery is good. Can I at least get your name? Or should I just call you angel?”
Eyes dancing with delight, she held out her dainty little hand. “Samantha.”
His hand engulfed hers. The softest skin he had ever felt slid against his calloused paw. “Chase.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Chase. But, I think I’ll just call you Cowboy.”
Chance laid an arm over the back of her chair, drawing closer. The bar was noisy, so he had an excuse to lean close.
“So, what is a beautiful woman like you doing in a bar all by yourself, Samantha?”
“It’s my birthday. I’m celebrating.”
“Happy birthday. I won’t ask your age. I know better than that.” “Good thing, because that’s something I definitely wouldn’t tell you.”
Her voice was a seductive purr that had his cock hardening in his jeans again. His position gave him a lovely view of the valley between her breasts and he could just imagine sliding his tongue into the hollow and then across her breast to a luscious nipple. Her nipples hardened, and his mouth went dry. The hard points were clearly visible through the thin fabric of her shirt and bra. Damn. His jeans were getting uncomfortable.
Chase returned his look to her face and their gazes locked, her pupils dilated, her breathing sped up.
“Would you like to dance?” Chase needed to get her in his arms.
She slithered off the barstool, her generous curves brushed along the front of his body as she descended to the floor. There was no way she could have missed the feel of his burgeoning arousal.
Chase stepped back and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. The band was playing a slow country ballad and he drew her into his arms. Her soft curves fit perfectly against the hard lines of his body and she melted into him.
They moved together perfectly. Warmth flooded through him, and she felt so good in his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder and her soft breath washed across his neck. His hands slipped to the upper curve of her ass, not quite groping her, but pressing her against the proof of his desire.
She looked up and their eyes locked. “Want to be my birthday present?” she asked in a breathy whisper.
Chase’s mother didn’t raise any fools. He released her hips and trailed his hand down her arm until their fingers entwined.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He tugged her from the dance floor, trying not to rush like he was running from a fire. But, damn. There was a fire in his britches.
“Your place or mine?” he asked, leading her toward the front door.
“Motel.”
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