Dirty-Talking Cowboy: A Kinky Spurs Novel

Dirty-Talking Cowboy: A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy
Dirty-Talking Cowboy: A Kinky Spurs Novel

Dirty-Talking Cowboy: A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy



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From author Stacey Kennedy comes Dirty-Talking Cowboy, the first book in the Kinky Spurs series

Emma Monroe has returned to River Rock, Colorado, after the death of her grandmother. Now she’s inherited a farm full of abused animals and she’s working as a waitress at the local hotspot, Kinky Spurs. The last thing Emma wants in her life is a man, as she’s still recovering from a recent heartbreak. But when a sensual and powerful cowboy, Shep Blackshaw enters her life, Emma begins to want things she shouldn't.

Shep knows sex shouldn’t be on his mind. He’s got a world of responsibility on his shoulders. He’s attempting to save his late father’s cattle ranch, Blackshaw Cattle Company, from foreclosure. But Emma’s heated reactions to his touch make ignoring her impossible. She’s the perfect distraction to make him forget that his father’s company is a sinking ship.

While their nights only heat up, soon emotions become tangled into the mix. Shep’s not only giving Emma the hottest nights of her life, he’s also healing her heart. With every encounter, she forgets her heartbreak. With every naughty adventure, she stops mourning the life she left behind. And with every dirty word whispered from Shep’s mouth, she stops thinking of all the reasons why she shouldn’t fall for him. But when the past comes to claim Emma, she’ll need to choose between the life she thought she wanted and the life she’s grown to love with Shep. How will she say no to forever with a dirty-talking cowboy.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781250168429
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Publication date: 06/05/2018
Series: Kinky Spurs , #1
Sold by: Macmillan
Format: eBook
Pages: 200
Sales rank: 112,444
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

Stacey Kennedy is an outdoorsy, wine-drinking, nap-loving, animal-cuddling, USA Today bestselling romance author with a chocolate problem. She writes sexy contemporary romance with a dash of suspense and a sprinkle of heart and humor, including titles in her wildly hot Kinky Spurs, Club Sin, and Dirty Little Secrets. She lives in southwestern Ontario with her family and does most of her writing surrounded by lazy dogs.
Stacey Kennedy is an outdoorsy, wine-drinking, nap-loving, animal-cuddling, USA Today bestselling romance author with a chocolate problem. She writes sexy contemporary romance with a dash of suspense and a sprinkle of heart and humor, including titles in her wildly hot Kinky Spurs, Club Sin, and Dirty Little Secrets. She lives in southwestern Ontario with her family and does most of her writing surrounded by lazy dogs.

Read an Excerpt


Sweet Jesus, the cowboy could kiss.

Emma trembled against his mouth while Shep gently laid her out on the mattress. This man had an intensity she didn't know how to handle. Only when he had her panting did Shep lean away. Those captivating eyes of his promising pleasure helped her know one thing for certain.

She wanted sex. Hot sex. Dirty sex. With this guy.

His mouth met hers again, and she moaned, her eyelids fluttering. Dear Lord, how amazing he felt as his lips danced across hers, while the length of his tall, muscular body pressed against her, pushing her back down into the mattress. His big, strong hands gripped the strands of her hair, holding tight, pinning her right where he wanted her. Beneath him.

He took control, and under his strength, she became drenched, flushing her body with unnatural heat. Needing more of whatever he had to offer her, she lifted her hips, pressing her slick heat against his leg until her clit rubbed against him perfectly. The low guttural moan he gave urged her on. She squirmed again, arching into the hard lines of his body blanketing her, fueled by the sensations flooding her.

His low and deep chuckle tickled across her as he rose on his hands, staring down at her. She reached for his face, cupping his cheeks, amazed she had met a man like Shep. There was confidence in his eyes that she was jealous of. He held a sureness about himself that anyone would envy. But it was the passion in their potent depths that caught her attention most. He lifted a single eyebrow and asked, "Can't stay still, darlin'?"

"I want you. Stop waiting." Her voice sounded distant and soft. She glanced down at her totally bare skin, blinking in confusion. She looked at his chest, finding him fully clothed. "Why am I naked and you're not?"

"You keep taking your clothes off." He frowned.

She ran her hands across his five o'clock shadow, her palm scraping against the scruff on his chiseled face. She couldn't stop staring at his sculpted mouth, the way the side curved ever so slightly. As if he knew all her secrets. "That's because I want you."

He dropped his head, bringing his mouth so close to hers. "I know exactly what you want, sweetheart, and that's losing your goddamn mind beneath my hands." He lowered his head to her neck again and sucked, licked, and nibbled his way across her flesh, causing her heart to race. She moaned when he pushed against her thighs and widened her legs.

Over and over again, he circled his hips, pressing his erection against her bundle of nerves, curling her toes. She gasped against the intensity of all that man grinding against her, her chin lifting to the ceiling. He pressed his erection against her sex harder, teasing her with what she could have.

She wiggled again.

"I want you to be still, Emma." He dragged a piece of rope across her arm. "So that I can fuck you good and properly."

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Between his heated kisses, he'd expertly bound her wrists with rope cuffs and then tied her tightly to headboard.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he asked, his tongue sliding across her neck, slowly and teasingly, taking his time to savor every moment.

"Yes. Please." Even with her dubious track record, she couldn't help liking her men naughty and adventurous, and everything about Shep screamed that.

She shivered when he swirled his tongue over the curve of her earlobe and murmured in her ear, "You can't run. You can't squirm. You're all mine to taste ... to tease." He tugged on the rope again, letting her feel how trapped she was beneath him.

She wasn't afraid, not a shred of worry in her mind.

He raised up again, hovering over her. Something changed in his eyes then. They became more powerful, controlled even. Like he reined in all his wicked thoughts and formed a plan for the night ahead. She burned with anticipation, watching the magnificent man open his worn jeans. He shoved them down to his knees, freeing his hard cock that was the size she'd imagined, just the right length and perfectly thick.

With his pants off now and nothing between them, the air became charged with energy. His warm, hard body closed against her soft planes, and her skin flushed red-hot. He pressed a hand against her hip, pinning her down again, beneath him, exactly where she wanted to be. Those powerful eyes watched her intently as he began brushing his erection against her clit. He was relentless in his teasing, until she began to quiver with need. Until she couldn't take anymore.

"Please. I want you so bad." She struggled against the bindings and the weight of his body. "I need you so much."

"You need this." He slid his erection back and forth over her throbbing clit.

"Yes," she breathed. "I need more."

"Ah, I see," he whispered across her lips, lifting his hips and pressing the tip of his cock inside her. "Is this what you want, Emma? My cock driving inside you?"

"Yes!" She'd beg if that's what he wanted, if only he'd keep touching her in the way he had. Passion seeped from his touches, and when she looked into the depths of his eyes, the promise there consumed her.

"Tell me that you want me."

It was an order.

One she'd happily oblige.

"I want you, inside me," she breathed.

Her eyes widened, breath caught in her throat, when he pushed through her slick heat, right to the hilt, as if all he'd been waiting for was her permission. She couldn't hold back the moans pouring from her mouth. He filled her perfectly, moving so very deep inside her, working her body like it belonged to him.

He stared at her intently, his fingers grazing the rope around her wrists, while he shifted his hips in a steady rhythm, his hard flesh stroking her soft, wet skin. Energy sizzled around her and she lost herself in his touch. There was something about this guy that tempted her with unfamiliar sensations. It seemed like if she let him in and lowered all her guards, he'd show her the world in a way she'd never seen it.

With each pound of his hips, he brought her higher. The burn on her wrists. The pressure of his body. The passion in his eyes. It all became too much, so much to absorb. She fought against closing her eyes and lost sight of those unique silvery-blue beauties, as blackness began to fill her vision.

Skin slapped against skin. The sensual brush of his low grunts spilled over her.

Until he spoke again. "That's it, Emma, come back to me."

His voice sounded far away now, not hovering over her, but off in the distance. His strong body was no longer resting against her, and coldness sank deep into her bones. "What ..." Her throat was dry, scratchy.

"This may hurt a little," another voice said.

A sudden prick on her hand had her gasping, eyes flying open. Instantly, she was blinded by the bright lights above her. She blinked, again and again, until she saw Shep's silvery-blue eyes. He wore the same dark-brown cowboy hat that she remembered he'd had on earlier at the bar, but his clothes were different. He'd been in a plaid button-down. Now she found him in a black T-shirt. No bound wrists. No dirty talk. No warm, defined muscles beneath creamy flesh. She blinked twice more. "Where am I?" she croaked.

Shep's eyebrows were drawn over concerned eyes. He rested his hand on her forehead, and he felt so cold, his eyes looked so cold. This wasn't the man she'd known a second ago. "Don't worry," he said softly. "You're all right. We're on the way to the hospital."

"I'm going to give you something for the pain," the other voice said again from somewhere next to her.

She attempted to lift her head, but a harsh throb sent her head straight back down onto the pillow, where she stared up at a bag of IV fluid. "What's going on?"

"Be still, darlin'." Shep pressed harder against her forehead, pinning her in the same way he'd pinned her to the mattress. "I know this is confusing. But you're fine. I found you in a field being dragged by a horse this morning."

"A horse ... dragged ..." She turned her head and glanced at her wrists, longing for the rope she swore she could still feel. Red burns marked her skin. When she looked at Shep again, she mourned for the way he stared at her, intently and passionately. "I —"

"Shh ..." His voice became a low, comforting rumble. "Rest easy now, Emma."

Blackness began to creep into her vision again and the world turned a little fuzzy. She shut her eyes against the pain hammering in her head, and that's when she heard the ambulance sirens blasting through the air. Slowly, the missing pieces began to come back to her. She rejected Shep twice last night. Once at the bar, and again after their little show on stage. And apparently now, she wasn't having the best sex of her life with a dirty-talking cowboy, she had head trauma.


The day began normally enough. Shep hopped on his horse, Tadgh, and joined the morning cattle drive handled by the cowboys at his late father's multimillion-dollar cattle company, Blackshaw Cattle Company. Truth be told, he expected to have a quiet day that mirrored every other day this week, since he'd given his team at his wilderness survival company, Blackshaw Survival, time off. His team was due back to work in a couple weeks for the next contract with the military to train their soldiers how to survive under harsh conditions. When his team was home with their families, Shep took time off, too. In his absence, Lorraine, the receptionist, handled the day-to-day tasks. Though his expectations of a calm day vanished when Emma's scream sent him and Tadgh galloping at full speed in her direction. Of course, he hadn't known it had been Emma at the time, until he saw her face. Though one quick look at the fear in the horse's eyes told him all he needed to know.

Not only had the chestnut gelding been abused at some time in his life, but the woman who had melted in his arms last night at the bar was the granddaughter of Daisy Monroe, an old lady who had a habit of taking in animals that should've been euthanized. No one had a bigger heart for abused animals than Mrs. Monroe. Shep had heard through the gossip grapevine that Daisy's granddaughter had moved into the hobby farm after Daisy's passing, but he hadn't connected the two until he saw the horse.

Earlier this morning, when he first roped the crazed horse dragging Emma through the grassy meadow, he'd thought she'd been dead. But that rope, tied tightly around her left wrist, likely saved her life because it kept her head off the ground. While Shep suspected she'd be bruised from head to toe tomorrow, she'd have her life, and that was a good end to his day.

It'd been an hour now since they'd arrived at the hospital, and he'd been waiting to be allowed into her hospital room. When he finally entered the room, he found Emma lying in bed with her eyes shut, sleeping soundly. Her long, chocolate-brown hair spilled out onto her pillow, her pink, pouty lips parted with her deep breaths.

Not wanting to disturb her, he carefully grabbed the chair next to her bed and sat down, waiting for her to wake up. Twice now this woman had fallen into his life, and Shep didn't believe in coincidences. He wanted to know more about this sweet little thing who went all soft and warm when he touched her.

Right as he leaned back into his seat to relax, her eyes snapped open, and revealed beautiful light-green eyes, as she said, "I banged Jake, the CEO."

"Did you now?" Shep fought off his smile, sure she had no idea what she was saying to him. He'd been warned by Doc Thompson that she'd been heavily drugged. Regardless, curiosity had him digging into her life. "When did you do that?"

"Oh, for the last year or so, but it was the biggest mistake of my life." Her glassy eyes locked onto his. "Let me give you a piece of advice, stay away from the bad boys. They're all trouble."

Shep stretched out his legs. "I will. I assure you." Just so happened, he was also one of those bad boys, who never quite followed the rules, always paving his own path in life, and so were his two brothers. "Is that why you've moved to River Rock?" He had heard through gossip that Emma was originally from New York City. "To get away from this guy?"

"Well, partly." She stared up at the ceiling, looking at nothing. "Of course, Grams's death brought me here, but I haven't left River Rock because I don't want to go home and face all the whispers and looks of coworkers who think I got my promotion all because I fucked my way to the top. So, here I am, rethinking my life and forming a new plan."

"And then?"

She looked at him. Or at his chest, her eyes rolling a little. "Then I will kick ass."

He laughed softly and placed the heels of his boots on the end of the hospital bed, staring at the beauty in the middle of the mattress. She was cute and feisty. His type of woman. And the sexy soft moans he heard last night at the bar remained imprinted on his mind. If it were up to him, he'd hear them again soon. "Sounds dramatic."

"Totally dramatic. Horrible, in fact. First, I need a plan." She glanced back up at the ceiling. "I need to rethink where I'm going after where I've been. I've put in years ... so many fuckingyears ... and then Grams died and she, for some reason, left me the farm, and then I thought, why in the hell not. I can do this. I can raise abused animals. Well, obviously I can't because I guess I was being dragged in the field by a crazy-ass horse and eating cheeseburgers."

Shep barked a laugh, unable to stop himself. Eating cheeseburgers? "And apparently, you're hilarious on drugs."

"Ah, I see the nurses have taken good care of you, Emma."

Shep glanced left, finding Doc Thompson stepping next to Emma's bed. He was an older man; his retirement was long overdue. His good bedside manner shined when he rested his hand on Emma's shoulder, giving a gentle smile before he turned to Shep. "It's just the morphine talking. Try not to pay too much attention to what she says."

Shep nodded and smiled in return. Amusing, is what it was. His ex- girlfriend, Sara, a woman whom he'd uprooted his entire life for and dated for four years, had become uptight and rigid before their relationship ended a little over two years ago. Emma was like a breath of fresh air.

He began to wonder if fate was dropping him a line, when Emma spoke up again. "Wait. Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital, Emma." Doc patted her on the arm before turning back to Shep. "She'll be fine once she sleeps a little bit."

"Of course, I'll be fine." She lowered back down onto the pillow and cringed, breathing deeply for a few seconds before adding, "I can handle everything. I don't need anyone. In New York, I was a big deal. Executive Creative Director at only twenty-seven." Her eyes fluttered shut and she mumbled something incoherent.

"You're still a big deal, dear." Doc grabbed the clipboard off the end of the bed and began writing. "I think we should take the morphine down a notch or two."

Shep smiled. "Probably a good idea."

"Bad idea," she interjected. "These drugs are so ... exactly what I need." She paused. Then, "But you should take that dirty-talking cowboy with you when you go." She gave Shep a good hard look, with a blatant sexual regard that caused his cock to swell. When her eyes lifted to his again, she added dryly, "That guy right there is far too sexy for his own good. That makes him my nemesis." She paused, closed her eyes, and snored a little, then opened her eyes again and said, "You know you want to kiss me. Remember how good it was? What are you waiting for?"

Doc laughed. "And that's my cue to leave."

Shep sighed, watching Doc leave the room, hoping this moment wasn't added to River Rock's gossip. When he turned back to Emma, she still smiled at him, awaiting his answer. "You're right, darlin'. There's nothing I'd like more than to kiss you, but I don't make it a habit to kiss women hopped up on morphine."

"No, you just like to tie them up. That's your thing, isn't it?" She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. "All rough. Super sexy. You take control."

Sure, she had him pegged right.

Regardless, he chuckled, placing his ankles onto the side of the bed again and leaning back in his seat. "How would you know that's my thing?"

She rolled her glassy eyes and snorted. "Because we had sex."

News to him. Fuck, he wanted to have sex with her last night, and she rejected him twice, leaving him standing on the stage with a raging hard-on. "Pray tell, when exactly did this sex between us happen?"

"Before I hit my head." She paused, nose scrunching, clearly fighting to find her memories. "Or maybe after. I don't know. But damn, we had some good sex together."


Excerpted from "Dirty-Talking Cowboy"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Stacey Kennedy.
Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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