Free For Love of a Cowboy by Yvonne Lindsay - For Love of a Cowboy Page A

was as cold and cutting as finely honed steel. Even Willow felt a shiver crawl down her neck. She struggled to see what was going on but from her vantage point all she could see was Booth’s very fine butt. Beneath her stomach she felt the muscles in Booth’s shoulders bunch, as if he was coiling up and getting ready to unleash some energy in a quick burst.
    A weird silence fell around them. The bar’s patrons seemed to be collectively holding their breath, just waiting to see what would happen next. She felt, rather than saw, Bill step aside.
    “I guess she’s not worth that,” he said.
    “Wise man,” she heard Booth mutter.
    Next thing they were headed for the door with Willow bouncing along on his shoulder.
    “Oh, for goodness sake. Put me down, will you? I feel like I’m going to be sick,” she protested, not entirely lying.
    “Nope.”
    “Booth, I’m not kidding.”
    He ignored her as he carted her across Front Avenue and down Fourth, only slowing when he reached Main Street. He set her down on her feet, at which point she promptly turned on her heel and began to march back the way they’d come again. She should have known he’d stop her. One big strong hand settled on her shoulder and wheeled her around to face him.
    “You’re not going back there,” he said grimly.
    “Oh yes I am. I’m in the middle of a game,” she insisted.
    “You want to play?”
    Willow frowned. She had the distinct impression they were talking about totally different things. She tried to pull free of his hold but instead she felt herself suddenly pulled up against the long hard length of him and trapped within his arms.
    “I’ll give you a game,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and sending a tremor through her body.
    Before she could think of an appropriate response he’d caught her lips with his. His kiss was hard, punishing, and yet she felt the thrill of it from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She should push him away, in fact she lifted her hands to his shoulders to do exactly that, then found her hands clasped behind his neck—holding him to her as if she never wanted to let him go.
    His mouth softened and his tongue swept the crease of her lips in silent entreaty. She opened for him, felt that thrill again as his tongue traced the inside of her top lip, then the bottom. A shudder of longing pierced her—so sweet, so intense. She wanted more of this, more of him.
    Tentatively, she mimicked what he’d done, reveling in the taste and texture of him, feeling every cell in her body blaze into flaming life. He pressed his hips against her, and a surge of longing shot through her body as she felt the thickened length of him pressing against that most sensitive part of her. She hooked one foot around his leg so she could get closer, feel more of him. Just feel more, period.
    The blare of a car horn, accompanied by a yelled, “Get a room!” made them both jump and pull slightly apart.
    Booth’s breathing was heavy, his eyes shadowed as he looked at her. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her up Main and then down the alley that led to the back entrance to SuperStitch’n’s.
    “Key,” he demanded as they reached the door.
    She dug into the pocket of her shorts and dragged it out for him. He all but snatched it from her grasp and shoved it in the lock, turning it and opening the door in one smooth movement. He yanked her into the small hallway behind him and pushed her up against the door. She whimpered with need as his big hands cupped her breasts and as his mouth plundered hers once more. She was on fire for him, every part of her body hungrily clamoring for his touch.
    “Upstairs,” she gasped. “Lock the door.”
    Without waiting to see if he did as she said she started up the stairs. He was mere seconds behind her. She grabbed his hand and all but ran through the apartment to the tiny bedroom that overlooked Main Street. The evening sun slanted golden rays through