Cowboy Crush. Liz Talley. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Liz Talley
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Blaze
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474048163
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stood. “Wiener-go-round?”

      “You know, that little thingy that rotates the wieners,” she said, holding open the door.

      “Is this sexy talk?” he asked, his eyes moving down her body.

      “You sure you didn’t get kicked in the head? ’Cause I’m pretty sure overcooked hot dogs are not sexy. Never have been, never will be.”

      Cal moved toward her. His previously damp T-shirt had been replaced by a short-sleeved polo that hung up on his biceps, and she’d be willing to bet he’d showered somewhere because his dark hair curled beneath the cowboy hat, glinting clean in the sun like a new penny. He moved like a man who was accustomed to taking what he wanted. A flare of something ignited in her stomach and suddenly she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. He had a thin upper lip, but that bottom one was so sensual. Gave her an urge to lick it, maybe bite it.

      “I know, but you know what is sexy?” he asked, stopping right in front of her.

      Could he hear her heart beating? Or maybe smell how turned on she was? Because she was. Like a light switch flicked. “You’re defining sexy now?”

      “I think we should,” he said, shifting even closer. She could see the buttons on his polo had four holes. He smelled vaguely of lemon and, yeah, some kind of liniment. Even that turned her on.

      He dragged one finger across her lips. And just like that, the smiles were gone. Because that was the single sexiest move she’d ever experienced. “These lips.”

      Maggie swallowed hard. “Uh...”

      “No, don’t say it,” he said, running his finger lightly back across her bottom lip. “I know you think it’s a bad idea to mix business and pleasure, Maggie. Thing is, I don’t really care.”

      He slid his hand across her jaw and cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in the hair pulled tight in the ponytail. Tilting her head back, he studied her face.

      And she studied his. Long dark eyelashes totally wasted on a man framed eyes the color of a Caribbean surf. His broad cheeks angled down and she bet his nose had been broken more than once. Lean jaw, firm chin and those damn lips she wanted to feel on her body...everywhere.

      “I don’t need this job, Maggie.”

      She inhaled deeply. “So why did you take it?”

      “For this,” he said, lowering his head, his lips covering hers.

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