An Excerpt from Faith in the Cowboy

I cannot tell you how excited I am about this book. I love West. I love Teresa. I love West and Teresa!

He brought his up behind hers to show her what he meant, and she felt the tensing of his strong thigh muscles against her legs. The sensation damn near had her melting off the horse. But before she could, he nudged the horse into a faster pace, first jarring her teeth with each step before easing into a rocking gait that had the scenery speeding past them, the wind blowing her hair against him. The sensation was—incredible, and surprised a laugh from her. He tightened his arms around her and she leaned into his chest, feeling the play of muscle against her back as he guided the horse in a looping circle around Liam’s five acres. Teresa barely felt the chill on her skin as they rode, West guiding the horse left and right, making Teresa laugh more as her stomach dipped.
Beneath them, though, the horse started to tire, and Teresa felt the animal’s sides bellow as she slowed to a walk. West guided the horse to the barn. He dismounted and reached for Teresa, his hands strong on her waist, making her feel tiny and feminine. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her, and she realized the horse wasn’t the only one breathing hard.
Her heart jumping in her chest, she lifted her chin in invitation. Before she could rethink her decision, he’d lifted her off her feet, turned her and pressed her against the wall of the barn. His lips, though, when they touched hers, were gentle, exploring, sliding over hers, cool and dry from their ride, before parting her lips and touching his tongue to hers.
When she opened to him, he moved closer, pinning her between his hard body and the fresh lumber of the wall, filling her with his taste, coffee and fresh air and mint. She breathed him in, tightening her arms around his shoulders. God, those shoulders.
And the way he kissed her, the rhythm not unlike the gait of the horse, forward and back, deeper, then softer. She let her tongue slide along his, exploring, seeing what made him tighten his grip on her hips, what made his breath catch. A thrill went through her at having power over such a big man. She released his shoulders to slide her hands between them, over his chest, wanting so badly to unsnap his shirt and feel his skin against hers. She went as far as crumpling the fabric in her hands before she came to her senses and smoothed the shirt against his skin. She pressed her palms against his chest and eased back, the lack of oxygen to her brain making her reckless.
He lifted his head to look at her, not releasing her, not stepping back. That should have scared her, should have worried her, but with West, she wasn’t afraid. She looked up into his blue eyes, shadowed in the dark barn.
“Not here.”