Page 7 of Texas Kissing

It didn’tfeellike he saw me as just another girl, when he did that.

“Stop it,” I muttered. I only realized afterwards that I’d said it out loud.

He let go of my arm, but didn’t move away. “Stop what?” he asked. He wasn’t smiling anymore but he didn’t look angry, either. He looked almost concerned. “Why are you so damn keen on running out on me?”

I swallowed and forced myself to lift my chin. I wasn’t going to look like I was scared of this. I mean, Iwasn’tscared of this.Goddamnit!

I grabbed the back of a chair, pulled it out from under the table and sat down.

Immediately, he relaxed. That lazy smile came back. He dropped into the chair opposite me, leaning back with his arm resting on the back. For just a second there he’d seemed really worried that I’d leave.Why does he care?It wasn’t like he was short of women.

I glanced over again at the crowd of girls. Most of them were standing with their arms crossed, stares of pure death aimed right at me. If I ventured over there again, I was pretty sure I was going to get bludgeoned to death by ten pairs of heels.That’s ridiculous. They thinkI’vestolen their man? Me?!

Bull grinned at me across the table—laidback and easy, not a care in the world. The polar opposite of myself. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to make conversation. He was happy to just look at me and, the more he looked at me, the more antsy I got. I could feel his eyes sliding over every part of me: mycheeks, my neck, down my collarbone to my breasts. Down over my stomach to the little bit of leg he could see around the table. I could understand him drooling over one of those girls in the crowd, but a big girl like me?

He was looking at me as if I was something special, which made no sense at all.

AndGodhe was hot. The hard line of his jaw. Those full lips that suggested rough, powerful kisses. The sheer size of him—he looked as if he could carry a horse across those shoulders, and the way his pecs pushed out the front of his shirt…

You know it’s impossible. Just have a drink with him and go.

“Why do they call you ‘Bull,’ anyway?” I blurted, just to break the silence.

His grin got even wider. He leaned back further in his chair, almost lying on it, and humped his hips skyward. “I’d be happy to show you.”

Before I could stop myself, I was looking at the thick bulge in the denim, a bulge that extended well down his thigh. The more I stared, the more the heat gathered inside me, rolling down through me and turning to sticky wetness as it hit my groin. I tried to tell myself,that’s ridiculous. It must be padded. No guy is—

I’m staring at his groin. How did I fall for that?

I tore my eyes away, face flushed, and heard him laugh. I felt the anger bubble up inside me.What the hell am I doing here?Let the local girls fawn over the alpha male. I didn’t need the cocky son of a bitch.

I was just fine on my own. And I didn’t have any choice in the matter, anyway.

What I should have done was to get up and walkout. What I actually did was to clear my throat and say, in a cool, crisp voice, “Aren’t bulls often castrated?”

6

Bull

Ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha wait WHAT?!

I sat up in my chair and pressed my legs together. No guy wants to hear that word.

“Especially the randy ones,” said Lily.

I just sat there open-mouthed for a few seconds. And a few seconds is a long time for me to be dumbstruck. Ialwayshave a line.

Except, apparently, with her.

I could feel the eyes of the girls I’d abandoned on me. They were too far away to have heard her put-down, but they’d certainly have seen my reaction. Normally, that would have bothered me. But all I cared about, right at that moment, was looking back into those big, dark brown eyes. All I wanted was more of her, this mystery woman with the curves to die for and her way of pulling the rug right out from under me.

When she’d suddenly walked away from me, I’d jumped up so fast I’d dumped one girl clean off my leg and onto the floor. When she’d nearly walked off thesecond time, my heart had been in my throat. Now I’d finally gotten her sitting down and got her looking at my cock and, instead of melting like any reasonable girl would, she was knocking my lines back at me.

Why was she not playing the game? Was it possible she didn’t know how it was played?

No. That was stupid.Just look at her!A girl as gorgeous as her couldn’t be some innocent.

Then I figured it out:she must be deliberately teasing me. It must be a city girl thing.