6. Bull

6

Bull

Ha ha ha , ha ha ha ha wait WHAT?!

I sat up in my chair and pressed my legs together. No guy wants to hear that word.

“Especially the randy ones,” said Lily.

I just sat there open-mouthed for a few seconds. And a few seconds is a long time for me to be dumbstruck. I always have a line.

Except, apparently, with her.

I could feel the eyes of the girls I’d abandoned on me. They were too far away to have heard her put-down, but they’d certainly have seen my reaction. Normally, that would have bothered me. But all I cared about, right at that moment, was looking back into those big, dark brown eyes. All I wanted was more of her, this mystery woman with the curves to die for and her way of pulling the rug right out from under me.

When she’d suddenly walked away from me, I’d jumped up so fast I’d dumped one girl clean off my leg and onto the floor. When she’d nearly walked off the second time, my heart had been in my throat. Now I’d finally gotten her sitting down and got her looking at my cock and, instead of melting like any reasonable girl would, she was knocking my lines back at me.

Why was she not playing the game? Was it possible she didn’t know how it was played?

No. That was stupid. Just look at her! A girl as gorgeous as her couldn’t be some innocent.

Then I figured it out: she must be deliberately teasing me. It must be a city girl thing.

Now it all made sense! I’d figured out she was a New Yorker from her accent. She was an evil genius man-eater from the land of cocktails and designer shoes and she’d traveled to small town Texas to find herself a stud and now she was toying with me. Yeah, that was it. She probably went through a man a week.

Well, fine. I had no problem with a girl with a healthy sexual appetite. But she’d picked the wrong guy to toy with. I was mad at her, but the anger was wrapped around a hot core of lust. I wanted her more than any girl I could remember.

If she’d come here to find a stud, she was going to damn well get one.

You mess with the Bull, you get the...well, the horn.

I leaned forward. “Yeah, people do that,” I said. “If they need a steer, because they can’t handle a bull.”

“Oh, you think I couldn’t handle you?”

“I’m sure you couldn’t handle me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Not all of me?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not all of you?”

The madder I got, the hotter for her I got. And the hotter for her I got, the calmer and cooler she seemed to be. Oh, goddamnit, I want to teach this girl a lesson. I imagined her bent over in one of the stables, that full peach of an ass naked and perfect.

I leaned forward even more and my voice dropped to a low growl. “Why don’t we find out?”