Book Three in the Blazing Hearts series
The Lover(Blazing Hearts)
M/F Contemporary Western Erotic Romance
Kaleb is a notorious lady’s man. He’s walking sin and not afraid to brag about the fact. Hell, he’d put it on a t-shirt if he bothered keeping one on long enough for anyone to read it. He’s used to getting who and what he wants. When he finds himself face–to-face with a spitfire of a challenge—his first love who is back in town, waiting tables at his favorite watering hole—everything changes. Hotter than a platter full of sin at a church picnic, Erica has him tied in knots, and if he plays his cards right, he’ll have her tied to his bed soon enough.
Books in the Series:
The Lover © Copyright 2015 by Kennedy Kovit
Kaleb Smith walked with a purpose into The Drink—a favorite roadside watering hole of his for years. The red on the door was worn from age, use and weather. It was clear to see where most pressed to enter. There was nearly no paint left there. Kaleb had done his fair share of entering over the years. More than he cared to admit. He wasn’t exactly proud of his sexual appetites so much as he’d come to terms with them long ago.
He strutted in as if he owned the place. He knew he looked like a man on the prowl because he was. It had been too long between bed partners and his cock was heavy with want. There was only so much jacking off a guy could do before nothing but a wet, tight pussy would do. He’d reached that point.
His cowboy boots clicked on the worn hardwood floor, announcing his arrival. Varying antique pieces of farm equipment adorned the walls of the roadside bar. It was supposed to be art of some sort. It looked like clutter to him, but what did he know? He was hardly what one would call refined. And he’d once heard some Yankee offer up big bucks to purchase an antique right off the wall. He and the other locals grinned, knowing there were at least a half dozen more where that piece had come from, just lying out in the field behind the bar, free for the picking.
Hell, there were three local businesses that made their money by picking through old broken furniture, slapping obnoxious colors of paint on them—such as turquoise or bright-ass pink—then selling them, barely functioning, for high dollar.
Northerners. Quick to throw good money at junk.
Rows of tall tables dotted the right side of the establishment. Each had patrons at them, making the bar full, as it normally was in the evening and at night. A vintage jukebox was tucked safely back behind them. The dance floor area was extra worn, a sign of getting its use over the years. Kaleb had done his fair share of cutting a rug on that very floor. Dancing was a lot like sex.
All in the hips and how you carried yourself.
There was a stage off to the back left and often local bands played to entertain the patrons. Tonight the only music filling the joint was coming from the jukebox and was about as country as you could get without plucking an actual banjo.
Kaleb cringed. He liked newer country songs and classic rock. He wasn’t much into the golden days of country—a source of contention between him and many of his friends. He’d put an end to the song playing soon enough. For now he wanted a drink and a piece of arm candy to keep him entertained as he unwound from a busy week. Maybe he’d get lucky and the arm candy he’d find would work for a fuck.
He ran a hand through his tousled dark hair and glanced around, surveying the scene, looking for his next bed partner.
Normally he managed to have a lovely lady, or two, in his bed nightly. He always practiced safe sex and was vigilant about keeping up on blood tests. One could never be too careful nowadays. Not with the crazy sex floating around out there.
The Drink was just far enough out of Middlefield that he didn’t have to worry about running into the ladies he romanced while he was home. He liked clean breaks and wasn’t much into more than a night or two of passion. Besides, he hadn’t met a woman yet who could handle all his baggage and sexual needs. Most got a small taste and couldn’t deal.
A set of blonde twins were near the jukebox, eyeing him over. They looked familiar, and if he was right, he’d fucked them both before—separately and together. His dick didn’t stir and that was a sure sign their last encounter hadn’t been anything special.
He tipped his Shady Brady in their direction and continued towards the bar. A drink was in order. If things didn’t pick up soon at the bar he’d head out to Club K and see what was going on there, but if memory served they were having some sort of theme night and he wasn’t about to show up in jeans and a t-shirt on theme night. Besides, checking the newsletter and the bulletin board was best when it came to Club K. He didn’t want to walk in again on pony-play night.
Damn. He’d never get the sight of some of that out of his head. And he might be a kinky fuck, but he drew the line at some things—being saddled and having a bit in his mouth was one of them.
Club K was one of several underground clubs within driving distance that boasted hot sex and kinky play—exactly what the K stood for. He was more in the mood for a vanilla fuck tonight so The Drink would do just fine, assuming he found a woman who turned him on. More and more it happened less and less—as if his attention couldn’t be held by the same old same old.
He walked with confidence past a group of five guys all huddled together, drinking their beers. They were checking out a table full of women and didn’t appear too pleased with Kaleb’s arrival. It was all too common for Kaleb to run into issues when out and about, especially when traveling solo, like tonight. He wasn’t a small guy. He prided himself on his body and took good care of it. He worked out nearly daily and watched what he ate. He tended to look much bulkier muscle-wise than almost all the men around him. He didn’t mind.
He was used to it.
Plus, it was part of his job and his business as a fitness club owner. For some reason his appearance often brought out the worst in other men—men he didn’t know. They either worried he’d steal their women or they wanted to try to prove something by trying to kick his ass. Never ended as they planned. He wasn’t just bronze. He had the skills needed to protect himself. And if tonight was like other nights that included a group of guys on the hunt for snatch, he’d have to show off those skills.
He sighed. He just wanted sex. Not a fight.