Read A Touch in Time Online

Authors: McKenna Chase

A Touch in Time

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A TOUCH IN TIME

by

McKenna Chase
 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. 

 

A Touch in Time

 

COPYRIGHT 2011 by McKenna Chase

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used
or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

 

Contact Information:
[email protected]

 

 

 

Praise for author
McKenna Chase
:

 


Someone hand me a fan! McKenna Chase writes red-hot stories of steamy romance and even steamier sex!
Caribbean Wild
is HOT!!”

~Award-winning author, Jana Mercy

 


Her Big Bad Wolf
brings a new twist to a classic fairy tale. It has all the charm of the childhood story with a wickedly sexy turn. McKenna Chase & Jana Mercy do a fantastic job in this quirky, sinful, erotic read. I enjoyed it immensely and would recommend it to anyone who is looking for a humorous adult take on the Big Bad Wolf.”

~Pamela Denise, Romance Junkies
 

Her Big Bad Wolf
- “This is not your Mom’s fairy tale. The authors have taken a girl’s fairy tale and made it a woman’s hot dream. I found the story enchanting and consumed the story in one sitting. This is definitely one hot story that sizzles and has earned itself a place on my favorite’s bookshelf.”

~Delane, Coffee Time Romance

 

Sweet Pleasure –
Erotic Contemporary Romance
– Rating: 4 Cups

Sweet Pleasure
lives up to its title. It is one hot romance that is full of spiciness, sassiness, and a passion that you can practically feel oozing off the pages. Ms. Chase really knows how to reel the reader in and keep them interested. The way Kristin goes after Jake full throttle intensifies the heat between the two main characters. What a red-hot read this is!

Caution: You may want to sit by the fan or air conditioner when reading this tale, as you will experience hot flashes, sweaty palms, and intense passion.

Danielle - reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here,” Brianna Donovan muttered with a frown as she and her best friend, Marissa, settled into their front row seats at the Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo.

“You’ll be thanking me for it later when I introduce you to some of those hotties behind the gate,” her friend said with a wave of her hand.

Brianna followed her gaze to the leather and denim clad cowboys gathered near the chute. Several of which Marissa knew up close and personal.

“I know you’re trying to jump-start my sex life, but I’d rather not have it be with your leftovers.” Even if it had been months since she’d had any sexual satisfaction that wasn’t brought about by her own hand.

Marissa laughed. “Come on, Bri, I haven’t slept with
all
of them. I left you a few good ones to choose from.”

“They’re cute, but you know I like my men tall.” At least taller than her own five foot eight inches.

“I know,” her friend said with a nod. “Tall, dark and handsome. At least that used to be your type before Alex screwed with your heart. Now you won’t give any man a chance.”

The break-up had not only made her wary with her heart, it had also affected her sexual self-confidence, Alex having pointed out her every flaw, mostly physical. “I don’t need a man to make me happy.”

Marissa snorted. “You and I both know it’s more fun to have a playmate on the playground with you. Especially one who likes to peek under your dress while you’re on the swing.”

“I’m here aren’t I?” she said in frustration. To let her friend find her a playmate. Whether she was ready for it or not. All she had to do was go about relationships the way Marissa did. Enjoy the sex without getting emotionally involved.

“Okay, getting back to the height issue,” her friend said, pulling Brianna from her thoughts. “Those cowboys might not be as tall as you like, but they wear their jeans tight and they’ve got abs that beg a girl to run her tongue over them.”

Brianna groaned. Her friend wasn’t playing fair. She knew she was a sucker for tight jeans and great abs.

A bell sounded and the chute gate slid open. The first rider shot out, seated astride one very pissed off bull. The cowboy’s thighs clenched against the snorting beast in an eight second war of wills.

Brianna found herself wondering what it would be like to have a man ride her with that same amount of determination. The thought of it had her squirming in her seat.

“Like what you see?”
She turned to her friend. “What?”
“That’s Grant. Definitely worth the ride.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. Another of Marissa’s conquests. “I need a beer,” she said, reaching for her purse.

“No,” her friend argued. “What you need is to ditch that e-reader you bought. Ever since you got it you’ve been comparing every man you come across to those tall, dark and handsome heroes you’ve become addicted to. They’re fiction, Bri. As in
not
real. Probably written by women like yourself who still believe there’s such a thing as a perfect orgasm.”

“I know the difference between real and fiction,” Brianna whispered back. So she liked to fantasize about the perfect man. That didn’t make her delusional.

Her friend quirked a perfectly plucked brow.

“Fine,” she conceded, ignoring the stares around her. “I wish I’d been born a hundred years ago. Back when men were men and lived by a genuine code of honor that doesn’t exist today. Happy now?”

“That’s it,” Marissa exclaimed. “You are not reading another book!”
Brianna stood, dragging her purse strap up over her shoulder. “I’m making that beer run. You want one?”
“Yes. Two in fact, because my best friend has lost her mind and is driving me to drink.”

Brianna couldn’t help but laugh. Marissa had been a drama major for a reason. She bent to whisper to her friend, “I will get back in the game, but it’s going to be at my own pace. And I
will
have that perfect orgasm.”

That said she made her way along the railing to the steps. She was almost there when the arena lights began to flicker like strobe lights all around her. She shut her eyes against the dizzying effect the pulsing beams had on her. A buzzing sound filled her ears, growing louder. She looked to Marissa and the rest of the crowd who seemed completely unaffected by the almost blinding flashes. Their attention was drawn to the rider in the arena.

She stepped back against the railing in an attempt to steady herself, but was closer to it than she thought. Arms flailing, she fought against the momentum that carried her helplessly over the top rail. With a terrified shriek, Brianna found herself plunging headfirst toward the dirt-packed arena floor below.

* * *

“Ma’am? You okay?” A gloved hand pushed the hair from her face.
Brianna moaned softly as she struggled to open her eyes. The bright glare of the arena lights had her squinting in protest.
“Where the hell did you come from?” a deep, very masculine voice asked beside her.
A shadow moved over her face, allowing her to finally open her eyes.
Worried brown eyes stared back at her from beneath the dusty brim of a cowboy hat.

Her fingers curled into the dry dirt at her sides.
Dirt?
Then she remembered she hadn’t been in her seat, she’d been going for a beer when she lost her balance. “I...I fell.”

“Obviously,” the man replied with a frown as his hands moved over her.

She tried to pull away, but didn’t have the strength. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure nothing is broken.” His fingers eased up her sides, carefully examining her ribs, skimming the sides of her breasts as they moved on to her arms.

Her eyes widened, stunned by the unexpected flicker of desire his innocent touch had caused.

“You’re wearing pants,” he noted as if surprised as his searching fingers moved lower to the curve of her hips.

She looked up at him, taking in the dark hair that curled out from under his hat and the five o’clock shadow that covered his firm jaw. His shoulders were wide and his arms muscular, no doubt from riding bulls. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying corded forearms sprinkled lightly with dark hair.

She no longer felt the pounding in her head. Instead, her senses were centered on the feel of his large hands smoothing up one leg and then down the other and the pleasurable ache his touch had awakened. Something she’d never experienced with Alex.

“I make it a habit to wear pants when I go out in public,” she said with a forced smile.

He muttered something under his breath and shook his head. Then he pulled his hands away. “Nothing feels broken. You hurting anywhere?”

Only if he counted the ache between her legs.

“I...I’m okay,” she insisted. “I just feel like an idiot for falling over the railing and holding up the rodeo.” She attempted to sit upright but the world around her began to spin, drawing a groan from her lips.

He slid a supportive arm behind her shoulders as she sank back onto the ground. “The rodeo?”

Why was he looking at her like she was crazy? “As in clowns, bulls, hotdogs and cowboys in tight jeans. Any of that ring a bell?”

His dark brow arched. “Lady, I think your bell’s the only one that’s been rung here.”

She had taken quite a fall. And she was feeling a little lightheaded. She reached up to run a trembling hand through her hair. Had she struck her head when she’d landed? “Are you a doctor?”

The cowboy gave a husky chuckle, revealing straight, white teeth. “I’m the closest thing you got to one. Doc Mitchell took on a rattler last week and lost. His replacement hasn’t arrived yet.”

“He’s dead?”

He nodded.

“So how can you have a rodeo...” her words trailed off as her gaze shifted past his broad shoulders, for the first time really taking in her surroundings. There were no arena lights, only the fiery blaze of a hovering sun. No stands filled with cheering fans. No rodeo clowns. Nothing at all familiar.

“Where am I?”

“Cheyenne.”

“Oh, thank God,” she said with a sigh of relief. “For a moment there I thought...” Her gaze dropped down to his lean, jean-clad hips, her eyes widening. “Are you wearing a gun?”

“Last time I looked.”
“Are you a cop?”
“A what?”
“An officer of the law.” Why did it seem like he was the one who’d landed on his head and not her?
“No, that would be Sheriff Mathis. I’m Jake Dawson.” He motioned around him. “And this is my ranch, the Flying Ace.”
“I’m on a ranch? Not at a rodeo?”

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