Wide golden eyes dropped from his muscled chest to his aroused shaft, and got even bigger. Like she’d never seen anything the likes of it before. He let her stare for a full minute before he cleared his tight throat and reached for his rumpled jeans lying across the foot of Curley’s unoccupied bed. If he knew Curley, the cowpoke was dossed down with some rodeo bunny in another motel room, enjoying the hell out of her. Shaking out his jeans, he stepped into them casually, sensing her eyes drilling a hole through his bruised ass. He could almost feel them stroking over his skin. Damn! It was a job getting the fly closed without zipping his unrepentant cock into the teeth, but somehow he managed. He didn’t bother with his belt. Or his shirt. Modesty wasn’t one of his many sins. He’d only put on his pants to make her less nervous. When he turned back to face her, she was still flat on her back, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging, as if she’d been quick-frozen to the spot.
