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Fiona tossed her head back, letting her mane of dark hair bounce around her shoulders before it settled in a riotous tangle of curls down her back.

The metal bull was coming around again, and she was pretty sure the guy’s time was just about up.

Wasn’t there an eight-second rule or something attached to these things?

She timed it perfectly, leaning forward to give him a tantalizing glimpse of her ample bosom just as he came ‘round again. She caught his gaze, letting her mouth form a surprised “oh” before she grinned saucily to let him know the peep show was intentional.

He did her one better though. Throwing his leg across the back of the bucking, bouncing pile of metal he slid to the ground amid a thunderous outbreak of applause.

Not bothering to slow down, he strode over to where she stood, still leaning on the fencing.

Wrapping one muscular arm around her waist he plucked her over the safety rails and proceeded to devour her mouth like a starving coyote on a drought-plagued range.

The man knew how to kiss!

Fire ignited deep in her belly and she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with every ounce of pent-up lust and frustration she’d been harboring since her last get-laid-quick adventure.

No man had ever kissed her quite like this though -- hard and fast, with an overwhelming hint of more and better things to come.

He held her tight against his body, and she savored the feel of his sleekly muscled chest pressing against her.

He was as solid as a rock, with wide shoulders that tapered to his waist. As for below the beltline, let’s just say she wasn’t left in any doubt about his attraction to her.

She sure hoped he used his mouth as well in the bedroom as he did in the bar. He bent her back over his arm with practiced ease, using his tongue to explore the depths of her mouth. She gave back as good as she got, wordlessly letting him know that she wanted to get to know him better. Much better.

She could hear the roar of the crowd in the background, like a muffled noise in the distance.

Briefly, she wondered if maybe she was in over her head this time.

The cowboy didn’t strike her as easy to manipulate, even with great sex.

Then his tongue slid along the side of hers and up the inside of her cheek.

At the same time, he moved one hand to caress the side of her breast.

Oh yeah. This was going to happen.

When they finally came up for air, he stood her upright and brushed the hair off her face with a surprisingly gentle touch. Leaning in close, he lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “Can a cowboy buy a lady a drink?”

She used her tongue to trace the outline of her lips and watched as his eyes turn a deep smoky gray. “He certainly can. The lady thinks that’s a great idea. How about Sex on the Beach?”

The cowboy grinned, mirth dancing in the depths of those sexy eyes. “I think I can arrange for that. Did you want the drink first?”

She arched one brow, thrilled to find a smoking-hot guy who knew how to flirt. Sure, sex was her main objective but foreplay was like adding spices -- it made the end result so much tastier.

He tipped his hat, a sexy grin curving the corner of his lips. “As you wish. One Sex on the Beach, coming right up.”

Taking a firm grip on her hand, he towed her behind him as he headed to the bar. Nice. He didn’t want to take a chance on losing her on the crowded floor, at least that’s what she told herself.

Some days, it was a difficult juggling act. She didn’t like to think of herself as a slut, but when you go out looking for one-night stands with guys who are after that very thing, it’s kind of hard to convince yourself that you’re still a “good girl.”

Wow. If the crowd at the office could see her now, they’d be horrified!

Okay, let’s face it. They’d drop to their knees and pray for her damned soul before organizing an intervention that would probably end in her wearing a chastity belt with no key.

Did she mention she worked for a church?

Yeah, a bible thumping, praise the Lord place.

Kind of explained why she wandered so far from home to find her one-night hookups.

It took a bit of work to get from the bull pit to the bar.

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the surprised looks on most of the faces when they saw her attached to Mr. Cowboy.

She sincerely hoped it didn’t mean there was someone else he usually dragged around behind him.

She didn’t do other women’s men. Been on the wrong side of that one before, and she never wanted to hurt someone else the way she’d been hurt.

The cowboy and she needed to have a conversation before she got in over her head. Hopefully it wasn’t too late. She could feel the moisture in her pussy, her gut anticipating a very carnally satisfying end to the evening.

They finally managed to fight their way through the crowd to the bar and hauled themselves up onto side-by-side barstools. The bartender materialized in front of them, and by the speculative look on his face, that conversation needed to happen real soon.

“The usual, Wyatt? And what can I get for your…” He hesitated long enough to make it a question. “…lady friend?”

“Yes, the usual, and the lady is interested in Sex on the Beach.”

The bartender stood stock-still for a moment, his brows reaching skyward.

“I’ll have to look that one up. Most of the patrons hereabouts aren’t into those fancy drinks.

” He looked right at her, and it wasn’t a friendly kind of look.

“I suppose you’d like one of those fancy little umbrella things in the drink? ”

She felt the heat flush her cheeks, and that pissed her off. It also made her wonder if she really was poaching on someone else’s property. She tried her hardest not to let the annoyance show on her face. “Don’t bother. I’ll take another of whatever is on tap.”

The bartender snorted before turning away to get the order.

Fiona turned to the cowboy. Time for some disclosure type talk. “So you single, or what?”

He studied her for a long moment before answering. “Does it matter?”

“Hell yeah. I’m out for a good time, and that means not hurting someone else to get it. You got an old lady stashed somewhere, I’ll go look elsewhere for my fun.”

“Well I guess it’s your lucky day then.” He cocked his head and slanted her a sensual smile. “I’m as free as they come. No old lady. No ex. No kids. You got any other rules I should know about before we tangle?”

Tangle. Interesting way to put it, but it suited what she had in mind.

“Just one. No strings attached. We have some fun, part ways and that’s it.

My name’s Fiona, and the last name doesn’t matter.

I’m not looking for long-term and I don’t want you turning up on my doorstep next week looking for something more. ”

His eyes narrowed. “So now it’s my turn to ask. You got an old man stashed somewhere who’s going to grab a shotgun and come looking for me in the morning?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Not a chance. It’s just me, and that’s the way I like it.”

The bartender returned, slamming two mugs of beer down on the bar in front of us. “Add that to your tab, Wyatt?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He tipped his hat, and a quick look passed between the two men. There was something going on but she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask, and even less sure she wanted an answer. Probably some dumb issue that was none of her business, so she decided to ignore it.

She wrapped her fingers around the mug and lifted it to take a long pull of the cool contents. Liquid courage, some call it. “They seem to know you here.”

He nodded, and she realized he still held her hand firmly in his.

Maybe he had a history of women taking off on him?

Hard to imagine. He had that cool, bad guy vibe that women (herself included) seemed to find irresistible.

If anything, she could envision him fighting off hordes of eager bar bunnies who wanted a piece of him.

She gave her head a mental shake. Why would that bother her?

She had his attention for the moment, and tomorrow he’d be free to pursue all the jailbait he wanted.

“Been my go-to place for quite a few years. I’m going to miss it.

” He took a big swallow from his mug. “Just finished putting all my stuff in storage, rented a motel room for tonight, and heading out to a new job and a new life in the morning. So if you’re serious about the no-strings thing, I’m your man. This time tomorrow I’ll be long gone.”

Wow. Talk about a perfect opportunity! She gave him her sexiest smile, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “It’s a deal.”

He picked up his beer and drained it in one long gulp.

“Great.” He reached out to run a finger down the side of her face to her chin.

Tilting it up, he managed a repeat performance of the kiss he’d given her earlier in the bull-riding pit.

When he finally disengaged his lips, her legs were weak and her mind was too fogged with lust to make any more small talk.

They’d covered the basics. He was hot. She was ready. No strings. The motel room was already waiting.

“What say I give you a ride back to the motel?” He paused to sweep a look from her head to her toes. “You’ll look mighty fine on the back of my bike.”

Fiona shook her head. Another of her rules. Always have an escape route ready, and that meant having her own ride close by in case things went south. “I don’t ride on bikes, ever. I can follow you in my truck.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you’re missing one hell of a sweet ride.” He slid off the barstool and waited for her to do the same.

She left her mug on the bar, barely touched. Amazingly, they were still holding hands and this time he didn’t attempt to tow her behind him. They walked side by side to the door. Dropping her hand (finally) he reached in front of her and held it open.

She almost dropped from surprise. Cowboy/biker/gentleman? Hardly any guy bothered to open a door for a woman these days. Where had a rough, tough, cowboy biker dude learned manners?

She smiled her thanks and sashayed out the door in front of him. “That’s my truck over there.” She pointed to the beat-up Chev. “How far to your motel?”

“A couple of blocks.” He waved rather vaguely off to the south. “Just follow me. That’s my ride there.”

She didn’t mention that she’d watched him pull up earlier. Didn’t want to make it sound like she was stalking him. “Okay. Just take it easy. My old gal isn’t the fastest thing on four wheels.”

He glanced at her truck, and she had to appreciate his lack of comment. Beside his flashy new Harley, her truck looked every year of her age. A wry smile curved those extremely kissable lips. “I’ll keep an eye on my rearview to make sure I don’t lose you.”

They stepped off the curb and he walked beside her as she headed toward her beat-up old truck.

Because it was in the same direction as his bike or was he playing gentleman again and walking her to her vehicle?

She’d had this guy pegged as a hardcore biker dude, but some things just didn’t quite add up.

Then again, she wasn’t in it for the long term so no point in worrying about the details.

They were halfway to her ride when he reached out and laced his fingers through hers. At the first touch, she felt a sizzle of awareness dance along raw nerve endings. He rubbed his thumb lightly across the palm of her hand and the sizzle turned into an all-out flame.

She sucked in a deep breath and prayed that motel of his was damn close.

By the time they reached her vehicle a good ten seconds later, she could hardly contain herself.

She fumbled for her keys, and when she finally managed to extricate them from her purse she couldn’t quite get the damn thing inserted into the lock.

Unfortunately, the old pickup didn’t have any of that push button electronic stuff going for it.

“Allow me.” Wyatt reached out and took the key from her, slotting it smoothly into the lock. The tumblers clicked loudly and the door swung open without a hitch.

Why is it that trucks always behaved for the male of the species?

Of course, the problem now was positioning.

In order to perform that gentlemanly act, Wyatt had effectively caged her between his arms and against the side of the truck.

She could feel every inch of him snuggled up against her, including a particularly hard and impressively large and tempting lump in his jeans.

She leaned forward just a tad and ground her hips against his denim-clad cock.