“Some Like it Dirty” by Kimber Vale ?>

“Some Like it Dirty” by Kimber Vale

When I first started brainstorming ideas for a cowboy tale, a common thread kept teasing me; I loved the idea of polar opposites getting together.  After all, isn’t that frequently the case in real life?  I kept picturing this tan, hunk-of-a-man, totally rough around the edges in a make-no-apologies kind of way. 

I had a vision of a high-maintenance, boardroom diva who somehow gets plunked down in the middle of cowboy territory and is so far out of her element that it’s laughable.

What would it be like when the two collide and sparks fly, I wondered?

Jenna McManus and Trent Remington galloped onto my computer screen, and it was just as much fun as I imagined when the two got together.  Trent teaches the stiff-laced Jenna that the Wild West breeds more than just livestock–it’s also home to some of the manliest men in existence.

What does Trent learn from Jenna in return?  Well, let’s just say that even straight laces can be untied, and sometimes the most clean-cut girls are the dirtiest underneath those fancy duds.

Excerpt from “Some Like it Dirty” by Kimber Vale:

She tried to sound authoritative.  Outraged.  Where was the Jenna from the boardroom meetings; the woman who drove fear into the hearts of new hires and old-timers alike?  Somehow, unthinkably, her voice came out squeaky and panicked.  The dirt-streaked guy with the drowning pool eyes stuck a boot tip in a stirrup and swung up behind her.

Her crotch was pushed forward, grinding responsive nerve endings against the unyielding saddle horn.  She felt his chest, warm granite against her back, as his arms encircled her to coax the stallion into a rolling canter.  Jenna couldn’t ignore the sensation of his legs wrapped around hers.  His thick, denim encased manhood was pressed was against her bare ass.  It surged against her with each jarring step.  Her pussy was getting wet from the dual sensations of being sandwiched between hard leather and hard man. 

He destroyed your clothing without so much as a “pardon me.”  He’s more animal than man.  Stop getting turned on by the brute!

But that was easier thought than done.  That sliver of feral beast was an incredible turn on.  The longer they rode–his burnished forearms brushing against her erect nipples as he pulled on the reins–the hotter Jenna became.

 

 

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