Chase Hawks had a good handle on life. Between his small spread in Arizona, his success on the rodeo circuit and a bevy of beautiful women always available to satisfy his urges, he figured he had control over his life.
Then fate intervened. He ran over a woman. Literally. Hit her with his truck.
Ana Stillwater had no control over her life. She'd skipped out on an abusive husband with three hundred dollars, a car that was on its last legs and a hawk named Fergi. She figured life couldn't get any worse.
Then it did. Her car broke down in Arizona and if that wasn't enough, a truck hit her.
Which brings up the question -- just what happens when a rational, down-to-earth rancher hooks up with a quirky new age witch who can give him a hard-on with just a look and likes to dance naked under the moon?
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Chase 'n Ana by Ciana Stone
Chase stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the barn. He'd expected to find the stalls still in need of cleaning and Ana nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found her spreading new bedding in the final stall.
"Hey!" She turned to him with a smile.
She was dirty, disheveled, sweaty, and without a doubt the sexiest sight he'd ever seen. Her cutoff jeans slunk low on her hips, but were cut high enough to invite a man's eyes toward the intersection of her thighs. The white tank top she wore was sweat-stained, allowing the dusky tint of her hard nipples to be slightly visible.
Ana felt his desire wash over her, mixing with her own and filling the interior of the barn with sexual energy strong enough to set the straw on fire if it grew any hotter. She didn't want to think only of sex when she looked at Chase, but it wasn't easy to do otherwise. His dark eyes were like pools of midnight, beckoning her to dive into the darkness and swim in the passion of their depths.
It took Chase longer than he was comfortable with to rein in the raw need that sang in his veins. "You did all this?" He gestured around the barn.
"Well, Cody helped." She gestured toward the dog, stretched out on a clean pile of straw, snoozing. "Poor thing wore himself out."
Chase chuckled. "Yeah, I can tell."
"So we can ride now?" she asked. She was eager to get on West Wind's back, ride off some of the pent-up energy.
"Uh, you might want to clean up a bit first," he suggested. Even from across the barn he could smell the horse shit on her.
"Oh, yeah." She looked down at herself. "I am a mess. Okay, give me ten minutes."
She ran out of the barn and to the well-house. She'd noticed a hose looped on the side of the structure, as well as a bar of soap. By the time Chase rounded the corner of the well-house, she had the hose held over her head with her face turned up to it.
The sight was enough to make him groan. Now that tank top clung to her in near transparency, the water running in rivulets down her body to all the hidden places he wanted his hands, mouth and dick to be.
Ana straightened and shook her head as she lowered the hose. That's when she saw Chase. A split second later a mischievous grin split her face and she turned the hose on him.
"Shit!" He held up his hands to ward off the spray, but it was too late. Squealing and dancing around, she drenched him head to toe.
"All right, you asked for it." He went after her, wrestling for control of the hose while both of them got wetter in the battle.
Ana laughed and squirmed as he wrested control of the hose from her, and held her with her back to him with one arm, drenching her and himself even more. "Uncle!" she gasped between laughs. "I give, I give!"
Chase released her and she turned to face him. The smile on her face transformed into a look that had him reaching for her again, this time to pull her to him for a kiss that was hot enough to boil the water.
Ana gave herself over to the kiss, exulting in the riot of sensations rocketing through her body. When he drew back and looked down at her with eyes smoldering with desire, she tossed caution to the wind, grabbed his shirt and ripped it open, sending buttons flying.
Her hands started on his chest, moving over the wet flesh, squeezing and stroking their way down his rippled abdomen. By the time her hands reached for the buckle of his belt, her mouth was on his skin, licking, sucking and tasting him from chest to navel.
Chase hauled her back up as her tongue worked its way toward the waist of his jeans. With one swift move he grabbed her tank top, yanked it over her head and lifted her with one arm to latch onto a hard nipple. Ana moaned, fisted her hands in his wet hair and arched back, pressing her breast harder against his mouth, wanting more of the sublime sensation that was cascading down from her nipple to her belly and then lower into her sex, making her throb with need.
She climbed on him, securing herself to him by wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her sex against him. His free hand moved beneath her to hold her up by the ass, squeezing her flesh and pulling her against him tighter. Their lips met, hot and wet, each vying for dominance.
They were so caught up in each other that neither heard the truck stop in front of the house, or the men get out. It was not until a rowdy yell came from the barn that they realized they were not alone. Chase was concentrated on Ana's left nipple and the feel of her pumping her sex against him.
Chase raised his head from Ana's breast and turned, still holding her aloft. There stood his brothers, all three of them, grinning like hyenas and cheering.
"Shit on a stick," he cursed and lowered Ana to the ground.