I’m excited. Like a kid in a candy store with chocolate smeared all over her face, my cheek is pressed to the truffle case and I’m waiting for another treat.

Cowboy Sex,

Natalie

Excerpt from Sex Camp

Rory grabbed the corners of Mitch’s desk and leaned over. “So the truth comes out. I’m reprimanded because I kissed your girl?”

Brock pulled up a chair. “Hell no, it’s not the kiss that fried your ass.” He sat down and stretched his legs out in front of him, folding his arms. “Oh no, Rory, there’s more to this write-up BS. See, now that you’ve kissed the little vixen, Mitch is forced to do what he can to keep you busy. With the first kiss behind you, he wants to make sure you don’t find time to fuck her.”

Rory narrowed his gaze. “Is that what you’re thinking?” He glared down at the employee action form. “You’re serious? You’ll write me up for kissing a gal you’ve known for two days?”

“Like hell he will,” Trixie said marching in and grabbing their attention when she slipped out of her poncho and slapped it on the end of the leather couch. Water beads splattered across the cushions, and her hair stuck to her face in adorable ringlets a man’s hand just itched to pull away. Her mascara caked under her eyes and even with a few imperfections nature inflicted, she looked absolutely perfect. She wrung her shirt out right in the middle of Mitch’s floor. They all stared at the puddle.

Rory and Brock shared a laugh, but then they both abruptly stopped. That’s when they saw the best a woman had to give. They should’ve been shot for looking.

“Oh, dear Lord,” Brock said, obediently gaping at the tight white, wet T-shirt she wore underneath the poncho, which served little purpose. Rain gear didn’t serve its function when the one wearing it forgot to zip up.

Rory’s mouth formed an O, but he looked away faster than the other two. Brock gaped and never bothered to cover up his interest. Mitch hurried out of the office, returning with a large beach towel to drape over her shoulders.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” he said excusing his peculiar acts by shifting his focus to health concerns.

“I’ll sit by her bedside and spoon feed her soup and medication,” Brock offered, refusing to look the other way.

“You can’t run around here in short shorts and a T-shirt when night falls. This mountain air will make a person sick, Trixie.”

She dropped the towel, and Brock raised a brow. “That’s not your slickest move, sugar,” he said, standing to leave.

Mitch gritted his teeth. “Got something against keeping a little something for the imagination?”

“My momma always said if you got the goods, flaunt ‘em.” She placed her palm to her stomach and the maneuver only showcased those luscious mounds all the more. The curves from her breasts nearly fell from the scoop neckline of a T-shirt without a better cause. Snug clothing never looked so enticing.

“You must’ve forgotten our little chit chat yesterday,” Mitch snipped. “Want me to remind you?”

Brock and Rory were past salivating. They foamed at the mouth. Brock eyed Mitch, then Trixie. Her cheeks swelled with hot air, and when she stamped her foot once, he knew Mitch should prepare for a good bit of the woman’s fire.

“Mitch, I am not your property just because you own this camp. I work for you, but I’m not bound to you. I don’t know how else to explain my position except to put everything out in the open. You overheard my conversation with Rory earlier, and since you eavesdropped, you should’ve realized something. I’m the one who kissed him, not the other way around.”

“He asked for it,” Mitch retorted.

“Like hell he did,” Trixie said, stamping both feet this time.

Amused, Brock ran his fingernails back and forth over his bottom lip, studying those tiny feet tapping out a fit. Then, he slowly raised his gaze, taking in the curves of a gal with too much to offer a hot-blooded male. He stopped at her chest, her neck, and then good God help him, those lips. Rory and Mitch once sipped on those lips and damn it all, he couldn’t help but think along the lines of marking them as his, too.

 “Pick up that towel and put it around you,” Mitch barked. “You have chill bumps all over you.”

“The bumps on her arms aren’t the ones I’m concerned about,” Brock said, staring at her nipples.

Rory snickered. Brock raised a brow and shrugged. What he’d give to nip at those tight little beads, tear her shirt over her head, and then suck on those sweet pearls until daybreak.

“Who do you think you are?” she snapped.

Brock jerked. For a second, he thought she addressed him, but when she slapped her hands on Mitch’s desk, there wasn’t any doubt. Mitch still held her undivided attention. He’d pissed her off enough to capture and keep her complete focus. “If this is how you treat all of your summer employees, give it a few years. You won’t have anyone left around here to help you run the place.”

“I’ll have Rory and Brock. Don’t you worry about Cow Camp,” Mitch replied.

“Oh, really? I doubt Rory is your biggest fan right now. You’re going to give him three kitchen duty details every day for the next week?”

“You wanna join him?”

Brock rubbed his chin. Her reply would tell a lot about her. He wagered on a woman who would take the offer and consider it a dare.

“Sure, I’d love to. I can do kitchen counters with the best of them, and with any luck, we’ll get locked in the cooler.”

He was right. Damn, what a woman. With her spunk and looks, she could drive a man mad. He shot Mitch a knowing grin. Oh yeah, Exhibit A: Mitch Colony. She started at the top and worked her way on down.

“I’ll keep you warm, Trixie,” Rory said. “No worries there.”

Trixie grabbed her raincoat. She couldn’t just walk away. Oh no, she wanted to pour a little salt and lime in the wound. “A week of kitchen detail? Wow, you must have an awful lot of confidence, Mr. Colony.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“If you think you only needed a week, you must have some kind of batting average with whatever you have tucked away in your pants, but I’ve got a newsflash for you. I’ve sat on my virginity for nineteen years, so you need to keep that in mind. Every single time you step up to bat, you will strike out. I’m not easily tempted by a smooth-talking fellow with a big penis and bigger lies falling from his lips. I’ve never been tempted in the past and I’m not now.” She gave Brock a quick glance.  

He studied her, too. What a crock! Now she earned his attention. Huh, he thought, you’re all but screwed, little girl. You just gave a man motive. He smirked and watched her come alive with recognition. Oh yeah, she knew to watch for him now.

She stomped away, and Rory leaned out of his chair to check out her sweet ass. Brock stretched, too. Shaking his head, he said, “Damn, did I hear a challenge or an invitation? I don’t know about you two, but she just said the kind of words that would tempt the devil straight out of hell.”

Mitch grabbed the damp towel she barely used. He held it to his nose and inhaled. Yep, he was a goner.

Rory picked up a frame and studied the photograph. The frame encased an older picture of Mitch and a younger woman, a gal Brock remembered well. “Mitch, buddy, I hate to tell you this, but Trixie has a little more class than those you’ve taken to your bed in the past.”

“Class my ass,” Mitch grumbled. “Did you hear her right, then? In all the years I’ve been here, I’ve never heard one of my staff members say ‘penis’ and glare at mine like it was the enemy.”

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