Country western music, whiskey and cowboys—these were Gina Adams’ favorite obsessions. Yet when she strolled into The Silver Dollar Saloon, just outside the Charlotte city limits, she received inquisitive stares from more than a few folks. Half African American and half Cherokee, her mocha-colored skin and long, jet black hair set her apart from the other women in the room. However, she was fortunate. The patrons quickly returned to minding their own business…not hers.

Sipping on her Jack and coke at the bar, she surveyed the room. Gina was feeling an edginess under her skin, a deep desire to make her ‘fuck-a-cowboy’ fantasy come true. And tonight was her lucky night. From the moment she laid eyes on the tall, handsome man across the crowded room, she knew he was the one. There’s no ‘pretend’ about this one. He’s the real thing! Her gaze roamed over his hat, worn Levi’s and boots. This particular cowboy was just rough enough around the edges to pique her interest.

The cowboy met her gaze. A grin spread over his face as he slowly began to make his way through the crowd. Like an arrow aiming for a target, he had zeroed in on her too. A spark of electricity zipped through her body and turned her insides to mush.

“Howdy, miss.” He tipped his hat, still grinning from ear to ear. “Mind if I buy a pretty lady another drink?” The sweetness of his drawl washed over her like honey.

“Sure.” Gina returned his smile. “What’s your name, cowboy?”

“Clint. Clint Bowman.”

“My name’s Gina Adams. I’ll have another Jack and coke, please.” Despite the surety in her voice, she could feel her heart pounding hard. The cowboy stood close beside her and flagged down the bartender to take care of business.

Finally, with her fresh drink on the napkin in front of her, she lifted her eyes. She gazed at the man for a better look. A foot taller than her, even in her own styled boot-heels, the cowboy was smooth shaven with strong, chiseled features. From what she could see from beneath his hat, Clint’s hair appeared to be a dark shade of brown to compliment his sun kissed, warm complexion. He definitely spends lots of time outdoors, she noted with satisfaction.

Clint’s eyes were hazel, her favorite eye color. A richly golden-hued color flecked with green. Oh boy! This one could be a real heartbreaker. In the bar room light, she spied two thin, faint scars, one just above his lip and one lightly trailing down his left cheek. Telltale signs of that lived-in, rugged look that was making Gina go weak in the knees.

“So, of all the pretty ladies in the club tonight, why me?” she asked playfully, breaking the ice.

“Because you’re prettier.” Clint grinned down at her, taking a sip from his bottle of beer, then added, “And I like your sense of humor.”

“How can you like my sense of humor when you hadn’t met me until now?” Gina raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

With his beer still in his hand, he pointed a finger to her chest.

“What? My boobs?” A sudden rush of color burned her cheeks.

“Oh no, honey. I like your shirt,” he added simply.

Dumbstruck, Gina glanced down at her ‘Good Girls Do It Badder’ t-shirt. She let out a soft exhale. “Oh, that. For a minute I thought—”

“Well, I must say, the rest of the package is fine too.” Clint flashed her a cheeky grin and winked.

Gina took a sip of her drink to moisten her dry throat. Slick warmth was spreading through her sex by the mere presence of this cowboy with his hazel eyes and wicked smile. Sure, she could be catty and tell him that he had a fine package too, but she didn’t. Instead, she asked him to dance.

* * * *

Clint hadn’t danced in a long time, but he was enjoying twirling the lovely young woman around the dance floor. Anything to stay close to her. She was a real beauty. He’d never been a believer in instant attraction. He liked to play it cool, taking everything in his life as slow and easy as possible. But, he met her gaze from across the room and zap!

That was all it took for him to summon up the nerve, stroll over and buy the prettiest lady in the Silver Dollar another drink. Clint was apprehensive his offbeat humor had somehow put her off, but it didn’t. Now, the dark-haired beauty wanted to dance…and dance they did.

After two or three livelier songs, the music eased into a lower gear. It was slow, smooth and downright sexy. Clint reached out for Gina’s hand. His unspoken request was met with a dazzling smile. She slid her dainty hand into his outstretched palm. It was warm and a bit moist. Damn, she must be nervous too. Clint smiled and drew her close. So close that he could feel her heart beating through her t-shirt as he slowly lead her around the crowded floor.

“Hey, cowboy, you’re a good dancer,” Gina grinned at him.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I haven’t done it in a long time,” he quipped, returning her smile, but relieved the lighting had been dimmed a notch.

He was grateful she couldn’t see him blush. The double innuendo of his comment made his insides jiggle like gelatin. Geez, it has been a long time. He tried to remember the last time he’d held a woman close. A woman who was sexy, smart and funny, all at the same time. Damn, way too long!

Clint’s uneasiness quickly evaporated as Gina, without missing a step, snaked her warm, soft arms around his neck. His hands instinctively slid around her waist, hugging her closer. Clint stifled a groan, feeling his cock stirring against the denim fly. She gazed at him with those big, black eyes, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. Gina’s eyes and sensuous mouth were tugging hard on his cool composure.

“A long time, huh? A handsome cowboy like you? I don’t believe that for one minute.”

The hot sultriness of her voice set the room on fire. But it was no fire. It was his own inner heat, the blood simmering in his veins. He was consumed by pure, outright desire. Without hesitation, Clint lowered his lips to hers and captured her berry-ripe mouth in a kiss.