by Desiree Holt
She dropped into a plush off-white leather recliner. Killer—that just couldn’t be this dog’s name—followed them, her nails clicking faintly on the hardwood. As soon as KC sat, the puppy stood on her hind legs to be picked up, which KC did. She stroked the dog’s head, sat back and waited.
A large, butter-yellow overstuffed leather sofa beckoned to him. He sat and took a large gulp of water. First to dilute the beer floating around in his gut. Second, to put some moisture in his mouth and down his throat, both of which had turned to dust the minute he saw KC standing on her walk. And third, to buy him some time as he tried to find the words he wanted to say.
KC waved her hand in a get-on-with-it gesture. He nodded.
“Leo said—”
“Oh God. Leo sent you here?” she snarled. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t kill him yet. He sort of knocked me upside the head and rattled my brain enough that what you said this afternoon finally sank through my thick skull. You really want to go with me to the Sand Castle?”
She dropped her head against the headrest. “Great. Just freaking great. You have rattled brains, and because of that you’ve come to see me.”
He laughed. “Not exactly.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. His movement caught the attention of the puppy, who jumped down and ran over to him. The ball of furry energy danced around his feet and Drake picked her up. If she weighed a pound, he’d be shocked. The puppy wiggled and climbed up to his face, again smearing it with her puppy tongue.
“Traitor,” KC said.
“Me or Killer? And what is her name? It isn’t Killer.” He nuzzled his nose on the puppy’s head. “This baby isn’t a killer of anything.”
“Ha! You haven’t seen the heel of my leather boot.”
He grinned.
“Her name is Jasmine. I call her Jazz.”
At the mention of her name, the puppy’s head snapped toward her owner and she immediately began struggling to get down. Drake set Jazz on the floor and she scurried to KC, who shook her head and picked her up.
“She’s rotten,” she said, but there was no fire behind her words.
Drake leaned back on the sofa and crossed an ankle over a knee. “Okay, as I was saying, do you want to go with me on vacation? You sort of caught me off-guard this afternoon, and I’m sorry for being so slow on the uptake. I’d love for you to come with me.” He drained the remaining water and set the empty bottle on the side table. “But you need to know that I reserved a one-bedroom suite. I’ll sleep on the couch, you don’t have to worry. You can have the bed.”
KC set the puppy down and leaned forward. “You’re asking me to go with you on vacation?”
“Yep. My treat.”
“And you’re not going to make me sleep with you?”
He shrugged and made himself maintain eye contact when what he wanted to do was look anywhere but at her. Damn. Her voice was a little tight and high with that last question. Now what had he done wrong? He didn’t think he’d ever understand women.
“Right.” He dragged the word out. “No obligation.”
She drained her beer. The empty bottle dangled from the tips of her fingers. The side of her cheek sucked as she rolled it between her teeth.
“So no sex. That’s what you’re saying? I just want to make sure there are no misunderstandings this time.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
She echoed his nod and then set her bottle on the floor. “Well then, in that case, no.”
His head popped back. “What?”
Leaning toward him, she said, “No sex, no trip.”
This time, he swallowed hard. Crossed and uncrossed his legs. Adjusted his position on the sofa. “Explain exactly what you’re saying. Use small words and short sentences. I don’t think my mind is hearing correctly this afternoon.”
“Here’s the deal, Doc. I want a vacation with the five S’s. Sand. Surf. Sun. Spa. And sex.” She leaned back in her chair. “And not necessarily in that order.”
“So you want to sleep with me?”
“I want a two-week torrid, scorching-hot affair. No holds barred. Then, we walk away. No harm. No foul. Those are my terms.” She stared into his eyes. “Take it or leave it.”
Bare Naked
Desiree Holt
She’s burned out and he’s down and out, but together they might light up the night.
Naked Cowboys, Book 4
Georgie Zielinski’s success in the hospitality industry comes to an abrupt end when her new boss says she needs to put out or get out. So Georgie gets out, investing her savings and 401k in a dilapidated B&B in Saddle Wells, Texas. Hiring help isn’t high on her to-do list, but when a rough-around-the-edges cowboy offers his handyman services, she listens to her gut and takes him on.
Cade Hannigan would eat humble pie all day if he could afford it. The silver spoon he was born with is tarnished and he’s down to the clothes on his back, a beat-up truck and a reputation so bad no one in three counties will hire him. Except a newcomer like Georgie.
As they work to bring the old B&B back to life, Georgie and Cade’s connection explodes into a wild ride of passion. But when Cade’s past comes back to slap him in the face, their chance to be together starts to disappear like smoke.
Warning: Contains a bad boy hammering out a new future, a good girl not afraid to get a little dirty—okay a lot dirty—and and a whole new definition for “sweat equity”.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Bare Naked
Copyright © 2014 by Desiree Holt
ISBN: 978-1-61922-185-7
Edited by Heidi Moore
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: June 2014
www.samhainpublishing.com
