TITLE – Pushin’ Buttons
SERIES
– The Boot Knockers Series
AUTHOR – Em Petrova
GENRE – western contemporary erotic romance
PUBLICATION
DATE – June 10, 2014
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 56,000
PUBLISHER – Samhain Publishing
Sexual dysfunction. The words make Sibyll cringe, but after
one too many failed relationships, she has to face reality. Her O-button is
broken, big time. Sick of sitting on the sexual sidelines, she books a week at
Boot Knockers Ranch. If a passel of rugged cowboys vying to bring her bliss
can’t get her off, nothing will.
Hugh had planned to sit out this week’s rotation of sexual
therapy, but when he spots sultry Sibyll, he pulls rank. His bone-deep urge to
possess her isn’t enough to coax elusive orgasms out of her body, though. And
his resolve to give the lady whatever she needs wavers when she shyly makes a
mind-blowing request.
Riggs stepped aside when Hugh muscled in to claim Sibyll,
but he jumps at the chance to fulfill her ultimate fantasy—a threesome. But
once they come together, all barriers are stripped away, exposing his love for
the one man—and woman—he’d break every last rule to make his own.
Sibyll followed her gaze to the door between stage entrance
and hallway several feet away. His back was to her and the other dozen women,
his shoulders taking up most of the door frame and his white T-shirt molded to
a chiseled back. Sibyll outlined his back muscles with her gaze, cutting a path
down to a backside hugged by worn denim.
The cowboy pivoted. His face was illuminated by the overhead
lights as he talked to the perky Isabel, the ringleader of this insane audition
process.
“He has a black eye!” someone whispered.
“From a bar fight? Please let it be from a bar fight!” a
woman with a gorgeous head of red hair and thick glasses added.
The cowboy raised his head and stared at the women. Suddenly
Sibyll’s muscles tensed to run. She didn’t want to be here, had made the wrong
decision. So what if I can’t experience “physical and emotional sensation at
the peak of sexual excitation” according to Dictionary.com?
Isabel swooped through the door and pointed at the
curvaceous brunette to Sibyll’s right. “You’re next.” Then she returned to the
doorway, where she leaned and talked to the cowboy with the black eye.
Dust motes swirled hectically in the lights streaming from
the stage. Sibyll tried to follow one with her eyes. Anything to keep from
looking directly at that cowboy’s handsome, rugged face.
He was huge—tall and broad and muscled in all the ways that
made the knot in Sibyll’s core want to unravel. But it never did.
Maybe if he fights to win me, I could.
He glanced up again, and the group of women tittered. The
leggy blonde was led offstage on the arm of a cowboy wearing all black except
his shiny silver and turquoise belt buckle.
“Wow, he’s fine. Jenny’s lucky to get him,” the virgin
whispered after they passed. They stopped at the door, and the production
manager moved to the side so they could pass.
The black-eyed cowboy with the two-day-old dark stubble on
his jaw shook hands with both cowboy and contestant.
“You—sexy secretary—you’re next.” The production manager
jabbed a finger in Sibyll’s direction.
She looked around herself. A slight girl to her right wore a
peasant dress and thong sandals, and the tall, toned girl to her left wore
sporty shorts and a T-shirt with an energy drink logo.
“Wh—? Me?” Sibyll pointed to her chest.
“Yep, you.” The production manager whirled back to speak
with the cowboy, but he’d strolled through the door and was making his
molasses-sweet way across the stage.
He passed the first group of contestants, who froze like a
herd of deer in the middle of Highway 495. He dipped his head and positioned a
battered brown cowboy hat on it. “Howdy,” he drawled, lips curled in the
perfect dose of Southern gentleman and cocky bad-boy.
Feminine sighs sounded in response. Sibyll’s heart thumped
as he neared her small group standing nearest to the stage. The closer he got,
the more his bulk seemed to take up all the space in the room. Or maybe that
was testosterone.
He dropped a wink at the virgin and leaned in to speak to
her. “The black eye was nothin’ as glamorous as a kick-ass bar fight. Took a
hoof yesterday working with the horses.” He straightened and settled his gaze
right on Sibyll.
She stopped breathing as electricity passed between them.
That’s my imagination. I’m so keyed up.
The cowboy cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.
Around them, women gawked. Hell, even Isabel the production manager stood with
her mouth open, glancing between the huge cowboy and her clipboard.
“Hugh, you’re not filling in today, are you?” Isabel asked.
The man blinked, severing his hold on Sibyll. He shook his
head. “Nah, I’m not competin’ today. I’m Master of Games as usual.” He pinned
Sibyll again with his gaze. Something dark and exciting coiled low in her belly.
What if this man did stand up for her?
I’d choose him in a heartbeat.
Em Petrova lives in backwoods Pennsylvania, where she raises
four kids and a Labradoodle puppy named Daisy Hasselhoff and pays too damn much
for utilities. She loves to write gritty characters with lots of heart and is
well-known for scorching, panty-soaking erotic romance.
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