Free Tex Appeal by Alison Kent Kimberly Raye

creek closed over her head for several long moments before she managed to kick her way to the surface. She bobbed up, sputtering and gulping for air. Water burned her nostrils and her chest ached as she grappled for the dock. Soon, her hand closed around one cedar plank. She held tight to the wood and heaved herself onto the flat surface. She sat for a few seconds, her legs dangling in the water as she tried to catch her breath. Her panic quickly subsided and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
    And that’s when she heard the steady clap, clap, clap of applause.
    She twisted around to see Dayne standing a few feet away. “Not bad for a first-timer.”
    “Says you.” She coughed, her throat still burning. “You didn’t get a mouthful of water.” She wiped at her eyes and climbed to her feet.
    “You’re supposed to yell before you take the plunge, not after.”
    His words registered and a jolt of awareness went through her. “How long have you been standing there?” She swept a gaze over him. He wore only a pair of blue jeans and a straw Resistol. His feet were bare, his muscled torso reflecting moonlight.
    “Long enough.”
    Meaning he’d been an eyewitness to the stripping. The swinging. The near-drowning.
    Embarrassment flooded her, but was quickly replaced by a rush of simmering heat as her gaze locked with his.
    He tossed the cowboy hat next to the boots and T-shirt that sat discarded a few feet away. Just the shirt and boots, she noted. There wasn’t a beeper or a cell phone in sight.
    Panic niggled at her, along with excitement. “What are you doing here?”
    “I was waiting for you at the Inn and followed you here.” His hands went to his zipper. The teeth parted. He hooked his fingers in his waistband and shoved his jeans and underwear down in one quick motion. “We’ve got some unfinished business.” Stepping out of the jeans, he chucked them to the side with the rest of his stuff and stood before her.
    His shoulders were broad, his chest solid. His tanned skin gleamed in the moonlight. Dark hair sprinkled his torso, swirling down his abdomen. His penis, huge and hot and hungry for her, twitched beneath her stare, and an echoing tremor rippled through her.
    He stroked himself, his long, strong fingers moving up and down his thick, rigid length. The sight of him, so bold and uninhibited, charged her own sense of wantonness.
    Her heart pounded faster and blood rushed through her veins, warming her already dangerously hot body. Her nostrils flared, drinking in his scent—the intoxicating aroma of aroused male and barely checked lust.
    “Come here.” His voice was gruff, hoarse. Aqua eyes sizzled, gleaming with a predatory light that was unmistakable.
    Instinctively, she knew that this wasn’t the man who’d cornered her in the bathroom tonight.
    No, this was the man who haunted her dreams.
    Her fantasies.
    Three steps and she reached him. Before she could decide what was happening, his lips covered hers. He thrust his tongue deep, plundering and stirring until she was breathless. Her ears buzzed and her heart raced and her hands trembled. His hands swept up and down her body, stroking and stirring until she wanted to scream from the sensation.
    There was no holding back this time. She felt it in the way his hands slid between her legs and parted her slick folds. She heard it in the groan that rumbled from deep in his throat when he found her wet and ready. She tasted it in his deep, plunging kiss.
    They clung to each other for a long moment, touching and kissing, until Dayne seemed to reach his limit. He scooped her up and walked toward the car. Easing her down his hard length, he turned her away from him and placed her hands on the still warm hood. The motion bent her forward and lifted her bottom. He stroked her, fingertips trailing over the wet heat between her legs, testing her, readying her.
    She shivered and rotated her hips, as he moved away from her to retrieve a condom. He sheathed