Kimberly Raye - Texas Outlaws - Billy

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because he sold out in the name of love and now his concentration’s for shit. The only plus is that he smartened up and ran for the hills before he embarrassed himself.” He arched an eyebrow. “What’s your name?”

“Sabrina Collins.”

“You a reporter?” he asked, which made sense since the place was crawling with them.

“I wish.” The words were out before she could stop them. She stiffened. “What I mean is, I do have a journalism degree, but I’m not here for that.” She handed him her business card. “I’m with FindMeACowboy.com. We’re an online-dating service for cowboys and cowgirls, and anyone wanting to meet either one. You’d be perfect for our website.”

“What about a dance? Would I work for that?”

Her gaze went to the crowded dance floor filled with sliding boots and swaying Wranglers. “I’ve never really danced to country music.”

He winked. “There’s a first time for everything.” He touched her and her heart stalled.

And then his strong fingers closed around hers and he led her out to the dance floor.

3

BILLY HAD RUBBED bellies with more than his fair share of women over the years. But none had ever felt as soft or as warm as Sabrina Collins.

The notion struck him the moment he pulled her close and felt her pressed up against his body. He trailed his fingertips down the side of her face, under the curve of her jaw, down the smooth column of her throat, until the silky fabric of her blouse stopped him.

“You don’t look like much of a rodeo fan,” he murmured.

She shrugged. “Rodeos I can do without. Cowboys are a different matter altogether. I need as many as possible.”

“I’ve heard a lot of pickup lines, but that’s a first.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She licked her bottom lip and he had the urge to lean down and catch the plump flesh between his teeth and nibble. “This is all about business. My business. FindMeACowboy.com.”

“Sounds highly illegal.”

A grin tugged at her full lips. “It’s a dating service.”

“Why cowboys?”

“Because they’re generally hard workers, trustworthy, loyal.”

“You don’t sound one hundred percent convinced.” There was a cautious air about her and she seemed to stiffen as he stared down at her.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe.” She shrugged. “It’s about the three thousand, four hundred and seventy-two women that we polled last year. So?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Have you ever thought about meeting someone online?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I meet plenty of women as it is, and I barely have time for any of them. I ride bulls for a living and this is my year. This rodeo is the first step to my very own championship in the fall. I don’t have time for dating.”

“Yet here you are dancing with me.” Despite the stiff way she held herself, there was just something about the way she looked at him with those deep blue eyes that said she was hungry for more than she wanted to admit. “One would be inclined to think you’re looking for someone.”

“Maybe, but this isn’t about a date.”

“What is it about?”

“It’s about sex, darlin’.” He pulled her closer, plastering them together from chest to thigh, holding her securely with one arm around her waist. “Lots of breath-stealing, bone-melting sex.”

Billy’s words slid into her ears, coaxing her to soften in his arms the way the warm heat of his body urged her to relax and let her guard down.

Fat chance.

The last thing she needed was to wind up in bed with a cowboy. For all her determination to find as many hunky, Wrangler-wearing hotties as possible, she wasn’t looking for one for herself. Sabrina Collins didn’t do cowboys. She’d seen firsthand just how unreliable they could be, and she certainly wasn’t interested in spending the rest of her life with one.

Then again, Billy Chisholm wasn’t exactly proposing marriage.

“You smell like cotton candy,” he murmured, his rich, deep voice sizzling over her nerve endings.

“A cotton-candy martini. The out-of-towner special over at the bar. About the sex thing, I’m really not interested.”

“Why?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t you like sex?”

She gave him a pointed stare. “Maybe I don’t like you.”

“Sugar, you don’t even know me. I’m a great guy. Awesome.” The teasing light in his eyes eased the stiffness in her muscles and she felt the flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach. A good sign if she’d just run into a nice-looking guy at her local Starbucks. But Billy Chisholm wasn’t your average Joe and she wasn’t letting herself get sucked in by his Southern charm.

Still. He talked a good talk. She arched an eyebrow. “Awesome, huh?”

“In bed and out.”

“Most men who walk around talking about how awesome they are in the sack usually aren’t much to talk about.”

“I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

She wanted to.

Her hands crept up the hard wall of his chest, her arms twined around his neck and she leaned closer.

His heart beat against her breasts. His warm breath sent shivers down the bare column of her neck. His hands splayed at the base of her spine, one urging her even closer while the other crept its way up, as if memorizing every bump and groove, until he reached her neck. A few deft movements of his fingers and the tight ponytail she wore unraveled. Her hair spilled down her back.

His hand cradled the base of her scalp, massaging for a few blissful moments, making her legs tremble and her good intentions scramble.

For the next few moments, she forgot all about her website and the all-important fact that she was supposed to be working right now.

She tilted her head back and found him staring down at her, as if he wanted to scoop her over his shoulder and haul her home to bed.

She had a quick vision of him wearing nothing but his cowboy hat, looming over her, his muscles gleaming in the moonlight as he loved her within an inch of her life.

And then walked away the next morning.

And that was the problem in a nutshell.

Sabrina had been there and done that. After she’d left home at eighteen, she’d been hellbent on not falling in love, and so she’d focused on lust. She’d indulged in too many one-night stands during those slutty college years, and beyond. Until she’d watched one of her roommates, Kat, meet the man of her dreams and fall in love. That had been two years ago when Kat had been a kindred spirit. A faithful believer in one-night stands just like Sabrina. Until she’d met Harry. He was an accountant by trade and living proof that there were a few good men out there. He didn’t lie or cheat or try to charm his way out of a difficult situation. He relied on honesty and integrity and he made Kat feel like a queen.

Sabrina wanted a Harry of her own and so she’d stopped wasting her time with one-night stands.

Sure, she liked sex, and she sure missed it after eleven months of celibacy—the amount of time since her last relationship—but she also liked camaraderie. She wanted a man to make her pancakes the next morning. A man who called if he was running late after work. A man who wouldn’t turn tail and run at the first sign of commitment.

A man who could give her more than just a really great orgasm.

Not that she minded a really great orgasm. But she preferred the friendship that came with an actual relationship. And when she wasn’t in a relationship like now? She had a vibrator that could deliver without all the awkwardness that followed a brief sexual encounter.

No fumbling for clothing or making promises that would never be kept. A vibrator was simple. Easy. Honest.