The Cowboy and the Cougar (The Cougar Chronicles #1)(8)

He took the nipple again and tugged. Lightning flashed to her core and she jerked backward, the magnet digging farther into her flesh.

He let her nipple go with a soft pop. He stood, touching his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her breasts and his fingers gently kneading the tight buds. "Let me back in your bed, Holly." His voice was husky, primal. "Please."

Oh, she wanted to. The thought of another night of unbridled passion with Cowboy—no, Jack, what a perfect name for him—sent ripples through her.

But another one-nighter wasn’t possible. That wasn’t who she was. Jack didn’t want her for the long haul, and who could blame him?

She pushed him away and ducked under his arms.

"Sugar?"

"I’m sorry," she said, standing next to the door. "I really need you to go now."

"Holly—"

"Please, Jack."

He walked toward her and smiled. "That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name. I like that."

Why was he so damn sweet? How was she supposed to get rid of him when he made her skin tingle and her heart race?

There was one way.

"I’m forty, you know."

His eyebrows arched. "No, I didn’t know. You don’t look a day over thirty."

"So you can see the problem."

"What the hell problem are you talking about?"

"Well, clearly I’m a lot older than you are."

He shook his head, his eyes wide. "You really think I give a rat’s ass about your age?"

A prickle of defensiveness speared into Holly. "How old are you anyway? Thirty-two? Thirty-three?"

There went the lazy half-smile again. The one that made her heart go pitter-pat. "Twenty-nine, actually."

"Dear God." Holly’s body thudded against the wooden door.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what?’?" That’s a difference of over ten years!"

He let out a chuckle, then said in an exaggerated drawl, "I done figured that out. Even a cowpoke like me knows how to cipher, ma’am."

"Stop making fun of me."

"Why not, Holly? You’re bein’ silly."

"Silly? You’re young. You’re...well, I’ll just say it. You’re freaking hot. You can have anyone you want."

"Right now, I want you."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, I’m pretty sure I’ll still want you. And the next day."

"And after that?"

"Christ, Holly. You want a f*ckin’ commitment here? It’s not going to happen, at least not yet. I’m attracted to you. I’m hot for you. I’m so damn hard right now I think I could cut through diamonds. I’d like to get to know you—inside and outside the bedroom. If that isn’t enough for you, well, maybe I should go."

Now he was talking sense. As much as she desired him, wanted him, nothing could ever come of it, for reasons she wasn’t ready to tell him or anyone else.

"That’s right. Go."

"Look—" He gripped her shoulders, and his touch sparked a shiver between her legs. "I spoke quickly. I don’t want to go. If you don’t want to go to bed, I can accept that. But can we talk? Have a drink? Or a cup of coffee? We don’t have to stay here if you’re not comfortable. We can go to a bar or a coffee shop."

Her body was on fire, and she was tempted to spend the evening with this handsome stranger—for that’s what he still was, a stranger. However, it couldn’t lead to anything good, and she’d just be heartbroken when it ended.

Holly had already experienced enough heartbreak for this lifetime.

"I’m sorry, Jack. Just go. Please."

"Aw, damn, sugar. Why won’t you let us get to know each other?"

"Because..." Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. His dark beauty left her breathless. He was a sweetheart and he deserved the best—better than she could give, anyway. She gulped in some courage. "Because I have nothing to offer you, that’s why."

"I disagree."

"You don’t know me."

"I’d like to change that."

She opened the door and looked at the floor. "I’m sorry."

Tears stung the inside of her eyelids as he walked away toward the elevator.

He didn’t look back.





Chapter Five


He was waiting at her law office the next day.

He looked luscious, of course. He was still wearing jeans and a western shirt. This time the shirt was a creamy beige that accented his golden skin tone. Could he be any more tempting?

"Mr. Sherwood’s been waiting for a while, Holly," Cindy, the receptionist, said. "Said he had an appointment."

Holly let out a harsh breath. Reprimanding Cindy would do no good. The young woman took phone calls and manned the lobby, and each tenant contributed to her salary. But each tenant who rented an office here kept his own calendar. Executive suites, the offices were called, and many sole proprietors found them an economical way to do business while keeping the professional air of a downtown building. The situation usually worked just fine.