Zedidiah Stone was feared. The crime rate in Lauréa, Texas was minuscule because of him. Long term relationships held no interest to him, and good girls were a bore. He liked his life just fine the way it was. The sweet, sexy temptation of Yvonne Winters was going to stay just that- a temptation. He would not touch, he would not take her, he would not-
Aww hell, he had to have her.
Excerpt:
“Why the hell was your front door unlocked?” Zed demanded, not stopping until he stood toe to toe with Yvonne, who just stood there with her hand on her hip, an amused smile on her face.
Damn, she really was adorable. The ponytail she usually wore was gone, leaving her soft hair to fall to her shoulders. The stark white of the plain t-shirt she wore stood in stark contrast to the darkness of her skin. He could just make out the dark circles of her areolas underneath. Coupled with the way her nipples were currently growing longer and harder under his gaze, his mouth began to water thinking of how sweet those breasts would taste. Stopping just after the apex of her thighs, that damn shirt tempted him, made him wonder if she was wearing panties under there. Obviously she wasn’t wearing a bra. There was just something sexy about a woman in a man’s shirt that was more alluring than the skimpiest of lingerie.
Wait, that was a man’s shirt, and it sure as shit wasn’t his. Oh no, that wasn’t going to do at all.
“And whose damn shirt is that?” Zed knew he was crossing the line of rational and headed straight toward crazy town, but the thought of any part of her being touched by any other male rubbed him raw.
“The door was unlocked because I saw you drive up.” Yvonne sounded for all the world like he wasn’t mad enough to spit nails. Her expression had gone from amused to incredulous, which in Zed’s experience was not a look that boded well for a man. Not that there was anything he could do about his tirade now. She had no idea just how thin the string holding his sanity together really was. She had no clue that her just standing there looking like a combination of succulent and innocent made him think in terms of permanence, children, and wedding rings, the order in which these things happened not mattering in the least.
“And the t-shirt?” Zed moved in closer, crowding into her personal space. Of course she didn’t back away. It would be unlike her to show any kind of fear of him. He had learned that very soon after she started working for him. Not that he would hurt her; not for anything in the world. He could, would and was going to turn her over his knee, however. “Whose shirt is this, Evie?” And do you have on panties? Are they wet? These were things he also wanted to know, but he would find out soon enough. No need to ask.
A smartass comment he was prepared for, was even expecting. Teasing his already frayed control would not be wise. Yvonne was a very astute young woman. Surely she knew better than to poke a wounded bear.
“Now, Sheriff, why would you want to know something like that? Surely a girl can have some secrets from her boss.”
Apparently not.
Aww hell, he had to have her.
Excerpt:
“Why the hell was your front door unlocked?” Zed demanded, not stopping until he stood toe to toe with Yvonne, who just stood there with her hand on her hip, an amused smile on her face.
Damn, she really was adorable. The ponytail she usually wore was gone, leaving her soft hair to fall to her shoulders. The stark white of the plain t-shirt she wore stood in stark contrast to the darkness of her skin. He could just make out the dark circles of her areolas underneath. Coupled with the way her nipples were currently growing longer and harder under his gaze, his mouth began to water thinking of how sweet those breasts would taste. Stopping just after the apex of her thighs, that damn shirt tempted him, made him wonder if she was wearing panties under there. Obviously she wasn’t wearing a bra. There was just something sexy about a woman in a man’s shirt that was more alluring than the skimpiest of lingerie.
Wait, that was a man’s shirt, and it sure as shit wasn’t his. Oh no, that wasn’t going to do at all.
“And whose damn shirt is that?” Zed knew he was crossing the line of rational and headed straight toward crazy town, but the thought of any part of her being touched by any other male rubbed him raw.
“The door was unlocked because I saw you drive up.” Yvonne sounded for all the world like he wasn’t mad enough to spit nails. Her expression had gone from amused to incredulous, which in Zed’s experience was not a look that boded well for a man. Not that there was anything he could do about his tirade now. She had no idea just how thin the string holding his sanity together really was. She had no clue that her just standing there looking like a combination of succulent and innocent made him think in terms of permanence, children, and wedding rings, the order in which these things happened not mattering in the least.
“And the t-shirt?” Zed moved in closer, crowding into her personal space. Of course she didn’t back away. It would be unlike her to show any kind of fear of him. He had learned that very soon after she started working for him. Not that he would hurt her; not for anything in the world. He could, would and was going to turn her over his knee, however. “Whose shirt is this, Evie?” And do you have on panties? Are they wet? These were things he also wanted to know, but he would find out soon enough. No need to ask.
A smartass comment he was prepared for, was even expecting. Teasing his already frayed control would not be wise. Yvonne was a very astute young woman. Surely she knew better than to poke a wounded bear.
“Now, Sheriff, why would you want to know something like that? Surely a girl can have some secrets from her boss.”
Apparently not.
Used availability for Shara Azod's The Sheriff's Woman