Happy Thursday! We’ll be riding in on our horses tomorrow night for Author Catherine Wolffe!
March 7th, Catherine will be releasing the second book in her western romance series, The Loflin Legacy. Join us TOMORROW NIGHT for the Facebook event for Casey’s Gunslinger. Click here or on the banner below.
About Casey’s Gunslinger
When Casey St. Clair returns to Tyler to locate her birth father, she seeks the help of the town’s attorney, the wickedly handsome, Charles Harrison. Abandoned as a baby by the town’s most influential man, Earl Loflin, Casey’s plan includes going to any length to shame the man who sired her. Charles sees her plan as a foolhardy attempt at revenge. He’ll do his best to protect her without resorting to the methods of his past. But when his past comes calling and Casey walks blindly into a trap, he’s the only man who can save her and any future they have together.
Naughty Excerpt – Enjoy!
Charles never returned the rest of the day. Casey waited until past closing time before she locked up the shop and retired to her room out back.
She wanted a warm bath as well as a good sleep. After heating water for the hip tub, Casey undressed, slipping into the water slowly. She’d made sure the water was hot in hopes it would soak away some of the tension the day had brought. Charles sad eyes kept appearing. Resting her head on a towel, she closed her eyes, doing her best to focus on nothing. The lavender Maggie had left with her helped. Before long, she was dozing.
A thump outside sounded muffled, yet solid. Glass breaking brought her upright in the water. Before she could scream, the cabin door flew open. Charles barged inside. “My door is locked. You locked me out of my own office!”
Clutching her arms to her breasts, she hoped her privates remained below the water enough so as not to be seen by his bleary, bloodshot eyes. He’d been drinking.
“Mr. Harrison, do you mind? I’m bathing!” Clutching the tiny washcloth over her skin, the discomfort of being naked wreaking havoc on her confidence. She’d never live down the incident. “Would you please leave?”
“I want my keys, damn you. Give me my keys.” Stumbling toward the tub, he glanced up and down at the burnished brass container before asking, “Is this my tub? What are you doing with my tub?” His voice rose with each vowel. “I said, I want my keys. Now, Miss St. Clair!”
What absolute gall! He’d given her permission to use the tub whenever she wanted. However, it appeared he’d changed his mind all of a sudden! Well, they’d see about that! Shifting, she grabbed the linen towel, turning away as she secured it over her breasts. The nerve of this pompous, drunken cur! Cutting chilly eyes in his direction, Casey stood up in the water. Making a show of getting out and tub, she sauntered to the table beside the tiny potbellied stove. “Here are your keys, Mr. Harrison.” The fire in her belly churned as he swayed precariously in place. She held the keys up for his examination. Too late she realized she taunted him.
He took a step forward. His head swam on his shoulders as he stared blankly. Out of the blue, he belched loud and long. With one foot planted in a forward motion, he fell into Casey’s arms, taking them both down.
The air left her body. Casey gasped under the restrictive weight of Charles sprawled on top of her. Breathing became a chore as he cut off her air with his weight. The floor’s hard boards cut into her back.
“My apologies, my dear. It appears we’ve fallen. Are you all right?” With genuine concern in his words mixed with piteous dismay on his face, Charles attempted to make things right. “I seem to be inebriated past my limit. Do forgive me.” He shifted, unpinning her as he rolled to his back in the midst of tub water on the wooden floor. Like a fish out of his stream, he laid there staring at the ceiling. Turning, he smiled a completely idiotic smile. “I’m going to sleep now. Good night.” With those few words, Charles Harrison, attorney at law, fell asleep in the middle of Casey’s tiny, one room cabin.
Amazed some bone wasn’t broken, Casey closed her eyes in silent thanks. With air in her lungs, she clutched the towel tight to her breasts. Never in all her days had she ever seen the likes of such a scoundrel. He’d practically broken down her door and stomped in, demanding she give him his key. No tactful apology for the intrusion, no rational explanation for why he didn’t have a key on his person. He didn’t have the decency to cover his eyes when he witnessed her naked in the water. No, Mr. Charles Harrison was fast becoming a rogue of the first kind as far as she was concerned. Now he’d passed out on her floor! Of all the bone-headed things to do!
Scurrying to her meager closet, she snatched out a thin, white cotton nightgown and slipped it over her neck and shoulders. Examining the sorry state of affairs, she finished covering her nakedness with the lightweight gown and concluded Mr. Harrison could remain right where he was for as long as he needed to sleep off whatever demons he’d tried to drown.
She was going to go inside his building and make use of the fresh sheets she’d put on his bed earlier that day. Hoping he had the worst headache known to mankind when he woke, she shut the door behind her. Gathering her hem, she slipped quietly inside the office of the only attorney in Tyler.
Having become accustom to where everything was in the apartment Charles kept off to the side of the outer office, she lit the lamp beside his large, strongly appointed bed. The headboard, a heavily carved piece of walnut held an image of an avenging angel holding a sword above her head. Casey didn’t understand why he would have such a symbol of courage and strength over his bed. Certain things about Mr. Charles Harrison bemused her. Why was he so incensed by the idea of her not confiding in him regarding her encounter with Earl Loflin? Surely, he could afford her some privacy in her personal matters. Yet, he kept a close eye on her. Insisting he escort her wherever she needed to go. She couldn’t say she minded his attention, yet, the demands he placed on her privacy were becoming a problem. Perhaps the time had come to sever the ties with Mr. Harrison. The consideration hurt. Soon, she’d have to make a decision.
Casey slipped into the bed, with the crisp, white linens she’d taken off the line and carefully put on the feather ticked mattress that afternoon. Examining the ceiling, she did her best to concentrate on falling asleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough with whatever the predicament of Charles and the incident in her cabin would bring. She needed sleep.
Closing her eyes, her mind wouldn’t quiet down. Round and round her mind whirled with images of him looming over her in the tub, his eyes constantly on her as she did her best to get out of the tub without displaying herself completely for his perusal. Despite her reasoning to the contrary, Casey tingled in her feminine place far too much. Her reaction to being naked in his presence did things to her. She understood that now. Wanting Charles Harrison to touch her was a reoccurring dream.
Slowly, she tugged the cotton gown up from around her legs. Trailing a finger up the skin of her inner thigh, she let go of the breath she’d been holding. Carefully sliding her fingers between her folds, she rubbed against the need burning within her woman’s body. The picture of him walking in the door as she writhed under her own ministering made Casey moan aloud. Her pulse beat in rapid time as the blood rushed to her loins. Her breath quickened with the onslaught of the pressure mounting in her fevered body. Never having experienced such a thrill, she somehow knowing she was wanton for allowing her body to let go. She shoved the warning of sinful desires to the furthest corner of her mind, focusing instead on Charles’ eyes on her as she stroked her nub. The raw need burning in his face could fuel any fire, which she set to burning. Such a secret pleasure, she’d never regret. After all, being alone to dream wasn’t a crime. She imagined him in the doorway, tall, dark, and sexy. Her fingers worked deeper within her wet flesh. Spiraling upward, the temptation grew to an unbearable peak. Casey’s cry of release swamped her completely. Without a care for who heard, she let the ecstasy wash over her in waves. As the yearning bedded down within its casket of secrecy, Casey’s blood slowly cooled. At last, she found the slumber she sought. Visions of Charles lying next to her in satisfied repose, his arm thrown above his head and his hand resting possessively atop her thigh gave her the necessary potion for sleep she desperately need. Tomorrow became a distant concern.