Her Bucking Bronc by Beth Williamson Page A

good.” Her voice was high and breathy.
    “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to stop myself.” He was being truthful, which was another surprise. He simply couldn’t stop touching her, kissing her.
    She backed him toward the desk and he found himself sitting in the chair. She straddled him, pressing her heated core against his aching staff while her breasts were right in front of his mouth. A bountiful feast.
    “We shouldn’t do this in here.” She pulled off her shirt, revealing a lacy blue bra. He kissed the valley between her breasts, then licked her skin.
    “No, we shouldn’t.” He thrust up against her and they both gasped.
    “Anybody might walk in.” She scratched at his shoulders.
    “The door’s locked.” He cupped her breasts and closed his teeth on a nipple.
    “Oh thank God.” She grabbed his hair and held him against her. “More.”
    He pushed aside the lace and lapped at the turgid peak. All rational thought fled. He needed her. Now. Now. Now.
    “Hey, boss?” The voice preceded the knock at the door. “We have a problem with one of the nail guns.”
    Dylan let the nipple loose with regret. He kissed it then pulled the bra back into place. Disappointment raged with unrequited lust. God, he wanted to get this woman in a bed for once.
    “Be there in a minute,” he called out. He whispered against her gloriously soft skin, “Damn it.”
    She kissed the top of his head. “You might want to wait a few minutes before you go outside. Or you could use your dick to hammer those nails.”
    He almost choked on a laugh. “Truer words were never spoken.”
    She climbed off and his body cried out in dismay. As she pulled on her shirt, he mentally said goodbye to her breasts. He almost had them bare in hand and he made a silent vow to do so. Very soon.
    She tugged at her jeans and blew out a breath. “Holy shit. That was intense.”
    “I’ve got more where that came from.”
    She laughed, that husky sound that echoed through him. Dylan managed to get to his feet. His dick throbbed against the zipper that held it in. It was his turn to adjust his trousers.
    “I’ve got to get to work.”
    She cupped his face and kissed him, soft and sweet. “Build my restaurant, Broadway.”
    He found himself smiling. “Sure thing, Harry.”
    She picked up her purse and left the trailer, leaving him to try to cool his blood. Dylan stood there for a few more minutes thinking of anything except Hannah. Roadkill, liver and onions, toenail fungus, rancid milk. It didn’t work quickly, but it did work.
    He stepped outside and walked toward the waiting carpenter. Now he had a personal stake in the restaurant rebuild. There were few times in his life he’d had that kind of connection.
    The build would be the best he’d ever done.

Chapter Seven
    Each day for the next week Hannah came to the jobsite and fed the men with some delicious baked concoction. As they rated them, she stack ranked the pastries. The feedback from Amber at the Coffee House also figured into her business plan. She had usually made pastries for family, not for sale. But with the Devils’ Corner in the new restaurant, she could expand to raise her profits and feed the town.
    Along with her deliveries, she got to see Dylan. They had stolen kisses in the trailer, but it never went past that. She didn’t know if he was holding back until they both lost control or if he was enjoying teasing them both into a frenzy. Either option worked for her.
    The dance between them was one of the most erotic experiences of her life. She walked around aroused every day. Masturbating in her bed wasn’t easing her ache. When Friday rolled around again, she was near desperate for a release.
    No matter what, she was getting Dylan into bed come hell or high water. She pulled into the jobsite and saw his truck was already there. They played a little game to see who would arrive first. They’d started arriving before the sun, which gave them a good half an hour to make out in the