Pressure Rising (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

he’d given her this room out of spite. No way would she give him the satisfaction of complaining and making him think she couldn’t handle being in here.
    She laid back on the soft blanket and sighed. The scent of leather and spice seemed to wrap around her, reminding her of kisses behind a barn.
    Popping back up to a sitting position, she groaned. This was DJ’s bed. He probably hadn’t even changed the sheets.
    Knowing enough about men to fill a shot glass, which definitely wasn’t much, one thing she was sure about was that men masturbated. And from what she heard from her friends, married and single, men do it frequently. There was a chance his ‘stuff’ remained in the sheets. Heat blossomed between her legs and her panties moistened. She had a strong urge to touch herself, but refused—she couldn’t do that in DJ’s bed.
    Groaning, she jumped up and stared at the full sized bed covered with a multi-colored quilt. She should be ashamed at the path of her thoughts. How in the hell could she be turned on? An image of DJ lying in the middle of the blanket, naked, exposed rippling muscle, pumping his—
    She squealed.
    Lord, help me.
    Sweat beaded between her breasts and her nether lips throbbed. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so discombobulated. She needed to clear her mind, do anything to get herself back on track, and dare not think of what DJ had told her downstairs…they could ‘give it a try again’ to see if there was still a connection. He was a dangerous man, but only if she responded to his mischief. He played her once, but never again.
    She cringed thinking of how far things could have gone that night when they were teens—an innocent kiss could have turned into a huge mistake. If Jewels hadn’t shown up when she did, no doubt Pearl would have found out if DJ had other skills besides kissing.
    Taking a deep breath, she pushed those thoughts aside. She busied herself searching the room and the contents on the dresser—a handful of loose change, an old pocketknife, a belt buckle, and a chewed piece of gum. Against one wall stood a bookshelf full of books. This caught her off guard. DJ read…books? She expected she would find a stack of nude girly magazines next to the toilet, but actual books seemed out of place here among his belongings.
    Her appreciation elevated—slightly.
    One book stuck out from the others and she pulled it off the shelf. Opening the cover to the sci-fi novel, she moved her fingers across the worn and bent pages, fanning them. DJ’s cologne lingered on the paper. Did he read at night? Was this his favorite book?
    Pushing the book back into its slot, she blew off all further images of DJ reading. She didn’t care what he read or when he read.
    After leaving the room, she stopped in the bathroom, thankful to see that it didn’t look like a men’s public restroom. It was clean and had a nice color of yellow paint on the walls.  Fresh towels hung on the bar. Toiletries were lined up neatly on the sink and there were no magazines to be found. She squirted a few drops of the lemon scented soap into her palm and it made her hands feel soft. Did the soap soften DJ’s working hands?
    A moan escaped her tight lips.
    She stared at herself in the mirror and wrinkled her nose. The havoc on her nerves showed in her pale skin and her hair was a mess from where she’d pushed her hands through it so many times. Using the brush she found in a drawer, she combed her hair until it hung in soft waves. It didn’t look bad. She mentally prepared herself to get through the rest of the day.
    Downstairs, DJ was still sitting on the couch, surfing the channels on the TV. Although he seemed pretty comfortable, she could tell by the hard set of his jaw and the way he had his chin cocked on his palm that he wasn’t enjoying his afternoon. He didn’t seem like the type of person to sit around. The Walters brothers were raised as hard workers and they were always on the land. DJ’s tanned