Unbridled Temptation(4)

By: Elle Saint James

Once she’d located her wayward sister and put her back in community college where she belonged, perhaps Jocelyn could return for a personal private package of true Western historical fun. Maybe she’d invite that imaginary lonesome cowboy along. She smiled to herself once more and her anxiety level dropped by half.

The rapid succession of several gunshots outside distracted her from her future plans as a horse and rider came alongside the stagecoach and two others could be seen riding behind him.

“Slow down and pull to the side of the road!” came a voice from behind a red kerchief hiding the lower part of the rider’s face.

Jocelyn sucked in a surprised breath. Was this a holdup? Excellent. Her heart sped in excitement hoping for just that very experience. She slipped her hands beneath her thighs. It was the only way to fully resist the urge to clap her hands in delight.

The stagecoach slowed quickly before coming to a jerky stop. She was one of six passengers squeezed into the space.

“Everyone out of the coach,” the masked rider said loudly.

The grins on every member of the coach’s passengers belied any danger. Jocelyn was the first out of the coach and into the late-morning sun. Shielding her eyes against the bright light, Jocelyn made room for the others, ending up at the end of the small row of stagecoach patrons. The slight chill in the air barely registered as she watched with anticipation for what would happen next.

The three teenagers continued snapping pictures, or maybe video by now, of the mock stagecoach robbery. Jocelyn ignored them and focused her attention on the leader of the three bandits. Even perched high on his horse, she could see that he had an excellent body.

The kerchief-masked rider who’d spoken disembarked from his horse with the very smoothest of movements as if he did this for his living. A smile came unbidden to her lips at the idea that, in fact, this was exactly what he did for a living. He had blond hair in need of a trim curling around his black shirt collar beneath his black cowboy hat. He was tall, maybe six feet one inches, and the spurs on the back of his boots made faint jingling noises as he walked slowly toward the line of passengers, approaching the far end of their row first.

He opened a small burlap sack. “I want all your gold ingots and priceless gem-filled jewelry. Put it right here in this bag. Whatever you’ve got.”

The couple who’d been snuggled together in the coach watched wide eyed and expectant as he moved down the line, but didn’t make a move to put any spoils in the bandit’s sack. And the bandit didn’t press or threaten. He stared deeply into each face of the teenagers grumbling something under his breath, like, “This is the sorriest batch of victims I’ve ever seen in all my born days.”

His sexy drawl lit her imagination.

Just as her lips shaped in amusement, he looked directly at her. His piercing blue-eyed gaze above the kerchief hiding the lower part of his face sent a sudden and visceral tendril of lust down her body. What if the masked bandit kidnapped her and took her away to be his love slave? Would he tie her up? Would she scream in delight as he ravished her using that sexy drawl to entice her? Her inappropriate smile grew. Was this the lonesome cowboy she’d been searching for and fantasizing about?

“What are you grinning at, missy?” he asked, moving away from the middle of the line to stand before her.

She dropped the smile, but when he stepped into her personal space, towering over her, she stared back, unable to disguise her lust. His enticing scent wrapped around her. He didn’t smell of cologne or anything that could be found in the current day, but instead the scent of masculinity from a bygone era. Woodsmoke, leather, and clean manly sweat vied for attention and filled her nostrils, making Jocelyn a bit light-headed with inappropriate yearning and unfulfilled desire.

He stepped closer. “Hand over all your valuables, missy,” he demanded in a low, sexy voice. The deep tone made her nipples perk up and her clit twitch in long-neglected need.

“I…I don’t have any valuables,” she whispered. Quickly licking her lips put his ardent focus directly on her mouth.

He grunted, then his pupils widened as if her answer, or maybe licking her lips, affected him at a deeper level. He leaned even closer. The red kerchief mask only an inch from her face. Their noses practically touched. She wanted to tug down that mask and lick him. A tremble ran down her body in anticipation of what might happen if she took such a bold action.

Also By Elle Saint James

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