Free Burn for Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) by Jenna Howard Page A

wound.” His finger was warm and damp from touching her. He painted the scar with her arousal and she nodded. “I think when we get home, you need a reminder on what is beautiful.”
    Reaching up, she traced his own silvery line from where surgeons repaired his rotator cuff. Leaning down, she kissed his scar. With the tip of her tongue, she followed the mark. Hands caressed along her back until he cupped her ass, while she pressed kisses along his collarbone.
    She loved how big he was. The thick muscles, the simple broadness of him. Her fingers spread over his chest, feeling his strength beneath skin and the dark hair. His cologne was still faint on his skin, the last vestiges of the day. He rocked her hips over his flat belly. She tasted him: the sweat dried on his skin, that musky manly flavor that was all Mike.
    She followed the tendon to his neck then found the scratchy whiskers. A tiny scar beneath the dark stubble was flicked by her tongue before she sought out his mouth. Tongues met and tangled as he continued the slow tempo of her hips. A finger brushed over the tight entrance at her ass and a little moan escaped at the touch.
    “Let’s get you situated.” His free hand caught her wrist and drew it beyond him, under the pillows until the edge of the mattress brushed her fingers. Her breasts brushed against his face, her nipples tight and needy. Meri shifted, feeling his lips on her skin but he ignored the offered nipple, driving her mad with wanting to feel his mouth. She gripped tight, needing something to hold on to as that one finger went round and round. Her other hand moved on its own accord, finally earning a slow brush of his tongue over her nipple. Like the finger at her ass, the tip of his tongue drew teasing circles. “How wet you are, greedy for my dick.”
    “Michael,” she whispered. Fuck me, suck me. The words crammed her brain, because she didn’t know which one she wanted more: his mouth or his finger.
    “Michael’s not here at the moment,” he practically purred. “Please leave a message at the tone, and he’ll get back to you when he damn well feels like it.” His finger pressed in and she cried out, her hands clutching the bed. Oh so slowly, he eased his finger back and forth, his other hand caressing her ass and hips.
    Meri gazed at the man sprawled beneath her and felt something hot clench in her chest. The expression in his eyes shifted slightly. This was the man she had first met, who had told her they were having dinner, who had grilled some steaks on his deck with the view of Lake Ontario hours later. Then that night, he had taken her into that room upstairs with the windows that looked out over the lake.
    “Tell me what you’re thinking of,” he demanded in a low voice that made her toes curl. The finger in her ass kept up its slow, relentless rhythm. Each time she rocked back into the glide, her breasts rubbed over the hard wall of his chest. The contact against her swollen nipples made it hard to concentrate. Oh, who was she kidding? The entire man made it hard to concentrate.
    “You,” she said, struggling to keep her eyes open on his face. “Our first dinner.”
    “When we sat out on my deck drinking wine? Where you were nervous and turned on and my cock was hard as hell for you. Do you mean that dinner?”
    Her lashes lifted and she gazed into his dark eyes. “Yes. You scared me.”
    His smile was a little cruel as he pushed his finger deep into her and made her gasp at the sensation. “I know.” He slid his other hand between her legs and she cried out when he found her aching clit. “I liked that I did because I knew you were aware of me. My little inexperienced submissive who hadn’t even known she had walked into my lair. I loved watching the dawning awareness. The realization of the dominant in me. And how that turned you on. Fuck, how you responded to me without even a touch. Just the truth in your head that I was the dominant to your submissive.”
    She