Page 24 of Cowboy Superstar

His button fly opened to reveal black boxer briefs that read Armani on the band. As he shoved the pants down, she felt like she was watching the world’s sexiest underwear commercial.

“I can’t believe you’re not in their ad campaigns,” she whispered absently. “They are missing out …”

The bulge against the front jutted out, as if testing the endurance of the fabric.

Hot. Damn.

“I’ll have my manager let them know.”

She nodded silently again as his thumbs hitched into the waistband. She held her breath until he shoved them down. With a whoosh, she let it out, and her mouth dropped open.

“Holy shit.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but whoa.

Standing long, thick, and proud was the most gorgeous cock she’d ever seen in her life. Her eyes felt like they grew ten times wider as it bounced when he came toward her, first kneeling and then crawling between her open knees.

She didn’t even remember spreading her legs. It was like they had done it all by themselves as Bo and his magnificent member came toward her.

“Well, that answers that question.”

“What question?” His flashing eyes darkened with a smoldering heat.

“If you could possibly be the total package.”

His gaze dipped to his cock. “And?”

“Wow,” was all she could think to reply.

Wow. He’d take that answer from her.

“Your turn.”

But Windsor’s gaze was still glued to his package.

He leaned forward. “May I?” His fingers itched to lift the hem of her chamois shirt. Bo caught a flash of surprise on her face as he asked.

“By all means, if you want.”

“Oh, I want.”

As soon as she smiled, he lifted the shirt up over her head and arms and was one step closer to the promised land.

Her gorgeous breasts were encased in golden-yellow lace—and it needed to go before his rough hands tore it to shreds.

Within seconds, it was gone, and he was reaching for the button of her jeans. Without speaking, she nodded and then lifted up for him to peel them down her thighs. He tugged upward, tilting her feet toward the ceiling, and she fell flat on her back as he stripped the denim away. Her golden-yellow lace panties left nothing to the imagination as he tossed her jeans aside.

He hooked his finger under the front lace panel and slid it downward, wanting to know firsthand if she’d soaked them for him.

Drenched.

“You want me.” It should have gone without saying, but there was still a part of him that wanted to—needed to—hear her say it.

He stared into her baby-blue eyes, surrounded by a cloud of bombshell blonde hair as she bit her lip and nodded.

“So much.”

“Thank God,” he whispered, letting his knuckle glide along her lips as her mouth parted, and she moaned.

Her hips shifted under his touch, and her slick wetness coated the back of his finger.