Happy early Valentine’s Day!! So this week we are talking about favorite heroes. Well, I have a lot of them. I write in every genre so I read every genre. When I started reading romance I fell head over heels on Ranger and Morelli from the Stephanie Plum series. After reading and rereading those stories I branched out. Paranormal screamed my name and well, Eric Northman just took over. Charlaine Harris and the Sookie Stackhouse series instantly became my favorite, even after writing a few paranormals of my own.
This past week I released my third novella in my Built Cowgirl Tough series. This last book was my favorite story and has my best hero in it. Chet Haskins is a bronc rider who has a heart of gold. His young carefree life is just a front to keep his deeper compassionate and passionate side a secret. Yet, Chet lets it all go for one woman, the woman he’s fallen in love with and can only think about rescuing. He’s truly a hero in his own right and I am so proud to have written his character. Here’s a taste of Chet’s story:
With her father’s gambling debts about to ruin the family ranch, Saige Thomely is determined to do whatever or whomever it takes to cover the debts. Unfortunately for her, one man is a sure bet, the one cowboy she’s tried to ignore for six months. The same cowboy who makes her body and heart flame to life with each look. Saige is prepared to offer herself in exchange for the money to cover the debts, but what she’s not prepared for is losing her damaged heart to another cowboy.
Night after night, for half a year, Chet Haskins has dreamed of having the blonde and sexy as sin Saige Thomely in his bed, writhing under him. At long last his dreams might become reality, only Chet’s heart wants more than just a few nights of steamy sex. But will the ghost of past relationships come between them? Or can Chet show the passionate Saige he’s truly the one to save her ranch and her heart?
Chet slung his shirt across the room. What the fuck was he doing? Saige Thomely was standing in his living room naked and willing to screw him. He’d been fantasizing about that scenario for months, yet he’d kissed her and walked away. He fell back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Damn, what had he done?
But the quick fuck he’d gotten used to with the women at Minx wasn’t what he wanted with Saige. He’d been head over heels since the moment he laid eyes on the petite blonde with haunted blue eyes. It hadn’t mattered then that he was screwing her best friend, but now regret edged at his conscience. Still, if he hadn’t slept with Billie, he would never have gotten to know anything about Saige, and that would be a shame.
Sighing, he rolled over and dragged his tired and sore body off the bed. The bronc he’d drawn had been another one of Billie’s infamous hard-as-hell-to-ride broncs. He’d bucked off in three seconds flat. He shook his head and toed off his brown cowboy boots. The hot summer night had him sweating even inside the apartment. He flipped open the button on his pants. The metal zipper slid down, breaking the silence of his room.
Images of Saige doing it for him filled his head. His cock sprang to attention, not giving a damn that he’d already turned her down. He glanced at the cherry wood door of his bedroom. He should open it, march back to the living room, and take what he wanted more than anything. But the nagging voice in his head that screamed “not yet” wouldn’t relent. For once, instead of letting his body rule him, Chet shut down his lust.
He kicked his pants off and strode into the large master bath. Marble floors gleamed with a light wax. His maid needed to be paid double for her hard work. The double-sized walk-in shower with jets at twelve points begged him to step inside. He took a deep breath and slid his boxer briefs over his hard-on and to the floor. His socks followed. The aroma of sweaty horse filled the air. Damn, he really did need a shower.
He flipped the jets to the hottest setting that wouldn’t burn his skin and stepped into the shower. His body tingled from the heat and the knowledge that Saige was just out of his reach. He closed his eyes and leaned toward the marble wall. The cool surface contrasted with the steaming hot water flowing over him. He clutched a bar of soap. With his eyes still closed, he lathered it between his hands, then rubbed his shoulders and slowly began to relax.
The week had been horrible. When his cousin Hadley had decided to play bull rider after a night of heavy drinking, the dumb bastard had broken his arm and several ribs. Now, Chet was stuck with not only his own half of everyday work but his cousin’s workload, too. Not to mention that his assistant Janice had up and quit.
He needed to replace her more than he needed to screw, and keeping Saige as his assistant, would force her to come to terms with the fact she had feelings for him. Add to that, she was smart and he’d seen the paperwork she kept on the hauls she made. She was organized, efficient, and just what he needed in an assistant.
But forty-five thousand dollars for two weeks’ work wasn’t in the range of an assistant’s normal salary. Maybe he would take her up on sex. Hell, it wasn’t a bad idea. He knew by the way he talked to her and her face flushed, nipples pebbled, and her breath hitched that she wanted him. God knew he needed to relax, and just maybe Saige could ease his tension.
If his parents caught wind that he was temporarily in control of his grandfather’s business, they’d try to get a court order to try and take it back. Damn the old man for ever leaving it to him. If his grandfather had given the business free and clear to Hadley, then their relatives could never touch the money or business. Instead, the old man had split the business three ways—twenty-five percent each to Chet and his cousin and fifty to the foundation Chet’s parents oversaw. The foundation wanted the full profit from the international construction company his grandfather had built.
Jets of water pounded his flesh, but they did nothing to relax him. His mind was on all the “what ifs” of his life. Most men at twenty-three were still partying and hell raising. Chet had been doing just that until almost six months ago. When his grandfather died, Chet had been forced to grow up. Now the pounding of the spray only echoed the pounding of his stress headache.
No matter how much he wanted to put off going back out to face Saige, he had to. He was going to have the worst case of blue balls ever, but he’d already sealed his fate. She was surely pissed off or hurt by his refusal to fuck her for money. Just the thought of her writhing while he drove his cock into her had him aching to touch her.
He spun around, letting the water run down to his cock. With one hand, he grasped the soap again and wrapped the base of his shaft in a firm grip. Maybe relieving some of the pressure before facing her again wasn’t a bad idea.
“You know, I can do that so much better.”
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