Beauty and the Bull Rider (Hotel Rodeo #3)

“No. I haven’t,” she confessed. “My family travelled a lot when I was growing up, but not like this. We went to top-notch resorts and avoided all of the hokey tourist traps. It’s kinda fun though, isn’t it?”


“Hokey?” Zac repeated in mock affront. “Guess I’ll have to strike the Clown Motel from the itinerary.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he replied with a laugh. “It’s in Tonopah, Nevada, coupla hours north of Vegas. If you don’t believe me, you can look it up on your phone once we have signal again.”

“I hate clowns, Zac.” She shuddered. “I’ve always been creeped out by them.”

“Then I guess I’d best scratch that reservation at Circus Circus,” he replied with a teasing look.

A few miles later, they pulled into the parking lot of a garish yellow diner flanked with a giant cowboy boot and longhorn cow. “Ty and I stopped here a lot when we were traveling the circuit. In addition to the motel, they have a pool shaped like the state of Texas and a separate hotel just for horses.”

The breakfast was an overpriced buffet the size of Texas. After refueling on huevos rancheros with a generous side of bacon, a mountain of pancakes, and biscuits with sausage gravy, they were ready to hit the road again.

“How much farther is it to Albuquerque?” she asked.

“’Bout four hours,” he replied. “Give or take. I was thinking to break the trip there as it’s about the midway point to Vegas. We can stay in town if you like, but I’ve got a buddy whose family runs a guest ranch maybe twenty miles east of the city. It’s situated along a stretch of the Rio Grande at the base of the Sandia Mountains. I usually bunk there whenever I’m traveling. The cabins are rustic, but they have everything you need and the sunsets are gorgeous.”

Not to mention they offered the privacy he craved. He’d made a call the night before in the hope she’d agree to stay there. The last thing he wanted after waiting so long to be with Delaney was to spend their first night together in some cheap roadside motel. The cabins were ideal—quiet and, best of all, very private.

“That sounds great, Zac. I think I’d like that.” She rested her hand on his thigh. It was an intimate and mildly possessive gesture he hadn’t expected. Was it a nervous reaction, or was she purposely ramping his anticipation? He was already running in overdrive.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened at the clinic yesterday,” she said. Her hand tightened on his thigh. His muscles contracted reflexively. He tried not to think about how that hand had felt wrapped around his dick. A glance at her face had him wondering if she was thinking about that too. Their eyes met, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she inched it higher. Any lingering doubts about her intent flew out the window.

“It’s only Thursday,” he said slowly.

“I know that,” she replied. “I read this really interesting article yesterday while we were at the clinic. It said sperm quality improves when a man ejaculates frequently. They claimed it improves motility.” She slid her hand still higher, perilously close to his balls.

His hand clamped over hers. “Is that so?” he countered evenly, all while losing his fight with a burgeoning erection. “Well, I read somewhere that multiple orgasms relax the cervix and help women conceive.”

“Is that so?” She cocked a brow. “Then I think we should do whatever it takes to improve our chances.”

He eyed her narrowly. “Didn’t your mama teach you that it’s dangerous to play with fire?”

“What if I’m looking to start one? You complained only this morning that I’m not spontaneous enough.”

“I don’t mind spontaneous,” he said. “Matter of fact, I love it, but there’s a time and place for everything and driving down the highway at eighty-plus miles an hour isn’t the time for a hand job.”

“I just thought you might appreciate some relief after yesterday.”

“Damn it, Delaney! A man can only take so much.”

“How much, Zac?” she asked. Her eyes flickered as he slid their still joined hands back down his leg to rest just above his knee. “Move your hand again,” he warned, “and we won’t make it to Albuquerque.” He didn’t know what had gotten into her, but he had a helluva time concentrating on the road after that.



Zac and Delaney arrived at the Lazy Q several hours later. It was too early to retire to bed, though that was about all Delaney could think about for most of the drive. The easy camaraderie they’d enjoyed earlier in the day had been replaced with nerve-stretching tension. By the time they pulled into the ranch, she feared she’d snap.

Zac’s buddy Chase Quinn was there to greet them with a broad, toothy grin as they pulled up to the main house. “Zac McDaniel! It’s been too damned long.” He clapped Zac on the shoulder the minute he climbed down from the cab. “Missed you at the invitational last week. Where ya been hiding?”