Saddle Broke

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: SADDLE BROKE

Copyright © DARAH LACE, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

I´m all grown up and I know what I want.

Clay Talbot tipped back the Stetson he wore low on his forehead and glanced from the cryptic message on the bar napkin to the longneck beside it, then to the waitress who´d delivered both.

She shrugged and, with a nod toward the bar, turned to leave. "Compliments of the lady."

His gaze swung to the bar. The lady was hard to miss, dressed all in red, from the leather bustier and miniskirt to high-heeled western boots. Straight blonde hair, streaked with highlights, fell over her shoulder to caress the curve of her breasts-a full D cup if he was any judge.

"Someone you know?"

Lifting the cold beer to his lips, he took a sip and looked at his friend across the table. "Appears that way."

"I don´t think she´s someone you´d forget."

Clay didn´t either. He glanced at the note again, hoping the words would trigger a memory, but the flowery red script only teased him. As surely as the woman who´d written it.

How had he failed to notice her arrival? From the dimly lit corner table, he was able to watch the entrance, the bar and the dance floor. It was a quiet night, not much here to hold his interest. Not that there ever was. He´d only agreed to come out tonight to meet Evan for a drink as he passed through town on the way back to Houston. Clay should have been back at the ranch, catching up on paperwork.

The blonde lifted her beer in a silent toast, and he answered by tilting her offering to his lips for another long draw. He set the bottle down and swept his hand toward the empty chair to his right.

She slid off the stool and sauntered toward him, hips swaying with each confident stride. Her firm breasts bounced slightly in the shallow cups. Long, toned legs, golden brown like the rest of her, ate up the distance between them.

A sultry smile played on her lips as she stopped in front of him, legs braced shoulder-width apart, hands on hips. "Hello, Clay."

He thrust his chin at the napkin. "Guessing we´ve met before?"

"You don´t recognize me?"

"Should I?"

"No, I suppose not. It´s been a long time." She pivoted toward Evan, her finger trailing the edge of the table. "What´s your name, cowboy?"

"Evan McNamara." Evan´s gaze dropped to her fingers as they left the table to continue their path up his forearm and over the rolled cuffs of his white dress shirt. She settled behind him, her hands on his shoulders.

Over the top of his head, her sky blue eyes, fringed with black lashes, locked on Clay´s. "Are you two good friends, Evan?"

Clay sensed Evan´s questioning gaze but remained focused on the woman behind him. Something about the way she smiled, or was it the tilt of her eyes, stirred a memory he couldn´t quite grasp.

Evan nodded. "Yeah, I´d say we´re good friends."

Her smile widened as she bent at the waist and slid her arms around Evan´s neck. Her breasts threatened to spill from the bustier, and lush red lips brushed his ear. "Then you probably share lots of," her tongue flicked the lobe, "secrets."

Clay´s cock hardened beneath the fly of his jeans. Whoever she was, she knew which buttons to push. He hadn´t been able to get into Houston or his club in over two months, and Clay didn´t play in his own backyard.

Grayson was a small town and the people in it wouldn´t understand the games his deviant appetite demanded. His cravings were better fed at Silver House, a private fetish club where his identity was protected by those who understood his needs and respected his privacy.

Slender fingers fluttered over Evan´s chest, red nails contrasting with the white cotton. Clay´s imagination flared. His pulse hitched up a notch. Would she be willing to take on the two of them?

She murmured something in Evan´s ear, causing his eyes to spark with interest, then she straightened and veered around the table, making her way toward Clay.

"You from around here?" He didn´t think so. He knew everyone in town. Still, she seemed familiar. Maybe from his club. He hadn´t partnered her. He´d remember that. But he could have seen her with another member.

Her hip grazed his shoulder as she wove behind him. Clay tensed, anticipating her touch, and wasn´t disappointed. Her arms slid around his neck, the same as they had Evan´s, and she ducked her head under the brim of his hat. Warm breath tickled the side of his neck. "I am now."

"What´s your name?"

"Mmm, I think I´ll hang on to that secret for a while." Her fingers crept over his abs but stopped short of his belt buckle. "So, what do you think, Clay?" Her tongue lapped at the skin behind his ear, sending a spear of heat to his groin. "Would you like to watch him fuck me? Or would you rather watch me suck his dick?"