Wednesday, December 19, 2012

My Book Boyfriend (96)

My Book Boyfriend is a weekly meme hosted by Missie of The Unread Reader and co-hosted by Lesley of My Keeper Shelf, in which we swoon over boys in books!

Calhoun Ballenger
Book: Calhoun by Diana Palmer
Series: Long, Tall Texans

He’s a powerful Texas rancher with blonde-streaked brown hair and a deep, gravelly voice. He has dark, deep-set eyes, high cheekbones and a dimpled chin. His mouth is even sexy: a thin but sensuous upper lip and a faintly square, chiseled lower lip. There is a little wave in his thick, blond hair, not much, but enough that it is unruly around his ears. He’s a tall, well muscled man with a broad chest and narrow hips, and thick brown hair covers his hard, tanned chest. 


“Abby, I can’t believe you really wanted to pay money to watch a bunch of boys take their clothes off,” he muttered.

“It beats having boys try to take mine off,” she returned humorously. “You must think so, too, because you go nuts if I try to date anybody with any experience.”

He frowned. That was true. It upset him to think of any man taking advantage of Abby. He didn’t want other men touching her.

He touched her mouth with a lean forefinger and she actually jumped. Her eyes flashing open, all her hidden hungers and fears lying there. And that was when his self control fell away. She was hungry for him. Just as hungry as he was for her. Was that why she’d been so restless, because she’d become attracted to him and was trying to hide it? He had to know.

She couldn’t answer him. She felt as if he was trying to see inside her mind. “I’m not afraid of you. Can’t we go?”

“What are you trying to do?” he whispered, leaning closer, threatening her lips with his. “Block it out? Pretend you aren’t hungry for my mouth?”

“I’ll take you home now,” he said gently. “And you can have until your birthday to think about me and miss me and want me. And then, if you can’t stand it anymore, I’ll give you a birthday present you’ll never forget.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

He covered her open moth with his own. “Me,” he breathed into it.

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