Bound, Branded, & Brazen (34 page)

“Sounds like all are accounted for,” Walker said as Jolene slipped the walkie-talkie back into the waterproof bag.

“Yeah. That’s a relief, especially since this storm doesn’t appear to be letting up anytime soon.”

To prove her point, a loud crack of thunder shook the ground under them, followed by an arc of lightning that zipped across the sky, low and threatening. The downpour renewed its efforts.

“Cattle seem to be staying put,” Walker said. “I don’t like the way the rain is coming down. We should head back.”

“Okay.”

Walker turned around and headed the way they’d come. It was a good thing he knew the ranch property as well as Jolene did, because the road was completely washed away, leaving rivers of mud in its wake.

And what she feared they’d find when they got to low ground had come true.

Walker stopped the Jeep several feet back from the rushing water where the road had once been. A wall of water at least fifteen feet wide and who knew how deep made passing impossible. Jolene knew as well as Walker that you didn’t drive through fast-moving water like that. Not only was the depth unknown and your car could stall, but the raging water could carry a vehicle off or sink it in minutes. And out here in the middle of nowhere, drowning just wasn’t on her list of things to do today.

“You know of any other way back?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. We could head north a bit, but that part of the road is on low ground, too, and the creek runs nearby. We’re likely to run into the same thing.”

“So we’re flooded, and the creek is overflowing, cutting the road off between us and the way back to the main house.”

She chewed her bottom lip and pondered various routes back, but all had to cut near the rain-swollen creek, which had obviously broken its banks. “I’m afraid so.”

He put the car in reverse, backed up and turned around. “I guess we’ll head to the cottage then. It is on higher ground and should be safe.”

“Okay.”

It looked like they were going to ride it out there, because there was no way they were going to make it back home until the water receded enough to chance driving the Jeep through it.

By the time Walker pulled up in front of the cottage, the rain was torrential. Jolene leaned over the seat and grabbed the food pack, tossed on her rain gear, and ran like hell to the front door, her boots sinking into the ground as she dodged the deeper water holes gouged by the pounding storm.

Walker had already pushed the door open.

“I’m going to secure the Jeep. Be right back,” he said.

She nodded, went inside and tossed off her wet gear, then went in search of firewood to heat the place up. The cottage was just a one-room cabin with a bed, kitchenette and a small living room, perfect for anyone who wanted to fish or hunt on the farther side of the property and get an early start, but there was no heat or air-conditioning. And the storm had preceded a cold front. Despite it being spring, with the moisture and cooler air, as well as the stone façade surrounding the building, it was chilly in there. By nightfall it was going to be really cold.

She found the firewood, opened the damper and tossed a few logs into the fireplace, then lit a few pieces of piled up paper to get the fire started. Once that was set up, she took the food pack and laid it on the counter, washed the dusty dishes and laid them out on the rack to dry, and started a pot of coffee on the tiny stove. Next she pulled Walker’s and her backpacks near the bathroom—thank God there was a bathroom in the cabin. It was tiny, but there was a toilet and a shower . . . and plumbing, so they at least had hot water.

She tossed up a mental prayer of thanks to Mason for arguing with her uncle Ronald about upgrading the fishing and hunting cottages on the property to include putting in plumbing. Ronald, being the stingy bastard that he was, never wanted to put money into improvements to the ranch. It had taken two years of her and Mason arguing him into a corner before he relented and agreed to the upgrades.

Jolene leaned against the doorway to the bathroom and toed off her boots, then peeled off her soaking wet socks and tossed them on the bathroom floor. She turned on the shower and stripped off her clothes, then stepped under the hot water.

It felt good to warm her chilled body under the steam and heat. She grabbed the bottle of liquid soap, shampooed her hair and rinsed off in a hurry, figuring Walker would want a shower, too, and she didn’t want to use up all the warm water in the tiny tank.

When she yanked open the shower curtain to grab a towel, Walker was there.

“Do you mind?”

He smiled. “No.”

“Shut the damn door, Walker. It’s cold in here.”

He did. Behind him.

“Dammit. I meant get out.”

Instead, he kicked off his boots and started to undress. Rolling her eyes, Jolene decided to ignore him. She grabbed a towel and pulled the shower door closed so she could dry off.

“Seems ridiculous for you to be shy now, Jolene. I’ve seen you naked.”

And he wasn’t going to again. She wrapped the towel around her and tucked the end in between her breasts, then stepped out. “Shower’s all yours.”

Without bothering to make eye contact, she opened the door to the bathroom and shut it behind her. Within a minute she heard the shower running. It was only then that she exhaled, dropped the towel and rummaged through her bag for dry clothes. She threw on sweatpants and a tank top in a hurry and grabbed a brush to run through her wet hair, then picked up her wet clothes and hung them up to dry.

Coffee was ready, so she poured herself a cup and curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace. The rain was still coming down hard, thunder rumbling the house with its intensity and lightning putting on a show outside the window. If you put aside the epic danger of flooding and the possibility of spring tornadoes, Mother Nature could sure gift them with beauty in her storms. Which was why she had never understood Valerie and Brea’s desire to flee the ranch for life in the city.

Where else could you sit back and see a light show like this? Or lay in your bed at night and feel the earth move under you, have every one of your senses explode with the smell of a spring rain, the sight of grayish green clouds that signaled a storm on the way, the feel of soft growing grass under your feet, or the sound of a newly born calf crying for its mother?

She wouldn’t give all that up for all the malls, traffic and city lights in the universe. This was home, had always been and always would be. And she’d never wanted to be anywhere else.

“You look lost in thought.”

Thunder cracked so loud outside she hadn’t heard Walker come out of the bathroom. Barefoot and shirtless, he wore only jeans, and he’d left them unbuttoned.

Her pulse kicked up a notch and she damned her libido for wanting him even though she was angry with him, even though he’d hurt her.

She sighed.

He went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, then came and took a seat on the cushioned chair across from the sofa. The light from the fire danced against the skin of his chest, making him look like a golden god. Incongruous to that was the darkness on him—his raven hair and goatee, along with his storm-filled eyes that seemed to be able to read her mind, made him look like the devil himself.

His hair was still damp, and it curled a little at the ends. Jolene wanted to touch it, to slide her fingers down the damp locks, to tuck her face between his neck and shoulder and curl herself up against him.

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t. There was no comfort in Walker’s arms. Not the kind she wanted from a man.

It stunned her at that moment to realize she wanted more. She hadn’t even known it until it crept up on her during the time she’d spent with Walker. She wanted more. Not just sex, but a real relationship with a man who wanted her, who wanted to be with her outside of the bedroom.

She sighed, because Walker wasn’t that man. And she was in love with him. And that just sucked.

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment?”

“What do you want me to say, Walker?”

“You could yell at me for the shitty way I treated you at the bar.”

“I could, but what would be the point?”

He lowered his gaze to his coffee, then lifted it to her again. “I’m sorry. I was an ass. I felt bad as soon as you left.”

“That was a little too late.”

“I know.”

“So why did you?”

“I have a problem with you and me being seen publicly as a couple.”

That wasn’t at all what she’d expected to hear, even if it was the truth. “Why?”

He stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles. “Because you’re my boss.”

“So?”

“People will talk, Jolene.”

Was he serious? “Talk about what?”

“About what I’m doing with the owner of the Bar M. And why.”

“And you care?”

“Yeah. I do. I don’t want folks to get the wrong idea about us. About me. And about you.”

She laughed. “I could care less what people think about me. And you’ve got it wrong about the folks around here. They’re not like that. People mind their own business.”

“Some might. A lot don’t. Either way, I’m just not comfortable flaunting you and me in front of everyone.”

“So that’s why you’ve been meeting me in secret, why you didn’t want to . . . at the bar the other night.”

He stood and went to the window. “Yeah.”

Huh. She got up and went over to him, laid her cheek against his back. His skin was warm and she threaded her arms around him, laying her palm against his chest. “Walker, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do about it. I want to be with you.”

He turned around and pulled her against him. “I want to be with you, too. But you have to understand how this makes me feel.”

She did, sort of. Men and ego and testosterone and wanting to be equals and all that. She got it. It was unnecessary, but she understood. “I do. I don’t agree and I don’t think my position and yours make a damn bit of difference in our personal lives. I can keep it separate, and you can keep it separate, and how it appears to others doesn’t matter. But I understand how you feel.”

He swept his knuckles across her cheek. “I hated hurting you the other night. I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his tone, the direct way he looked at her, as if he was willing to take whatever punishment she gave him, melted her heart. She slid her hand into his hair and pressed her body into his. “Forgiven. Kiss me.”

He pulled her against him, his body tense as he pressed his length along hers and lowered his lips to hers.

She’d missed him, missed the brush of his mouth against hers, the taste of him, the way he always seemed so urgent when she was in his arms. It was like he was desperate to touch her, to kiss her. She liked being wanted like that.

His hands roamed over her back, lifting her thin cotton top so he could put his hands on her skin. The fire had warmed the chill in the room, but she was heating from the inside out. His touch seared her, scorched her, made her melt inside and her toes curl. She inched closer against him and splayed her hands across the naked skin of his back. He was on fire, too, his skin warm to the touch. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and he groaned against her lips, put his hand on her butt to draw her against the hard ridge of his erection.

She reached between them, needing to feel him in her hand. She slid his zipper down and pushed on his jeans and they fell to the floor. He stepped back, kicked his jeans away, his erection jutting up and making her ache to feel him pounding inside her.

She pulled off her tank top and tossed it on top of his jeans, then pushed her sweats to the floor, too. They stood in front of the window staring at each other.

Lightning shot across the sky, casting light across Walker’s face, showing the strain on his features as he looked down at her.

He kneeled in front of her and slid his hands up her thighs, then cupped her buttocks to draw her closer. She took a couple steps, holding onto the back of the sofa for support.

Walker tilted his head back and looked up at her. “Spread your legs.”

She widened her stance, surprised to feel her legs shaking. Anticipation? Nervousness? She wasn’t sure. She shouldn’t be nervous. This wasn’t the first time they’d been together, so it had to be excitement, waiting for his touch, his mouth on her. She’d missed these moments with him. After waiting for him for so long, she couldn’t get enough of him.

She tilted her pelvis out and he smiled as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over her, barely touching her clit. She trembled, watching as he circled the bud, then pressed his tongue against her sex. She gasped at the contact, so hot, so perfect.

Jolene held tight to the sofa as Walker buried his face against her, licking the length of her, making her quiver as shocks of pleasure shot throughout her pussy and clit. He knew just what she liked, just where to put his tongue. He could take her from zero to oh-God-I’m-coming so damn fast he made her head spin and her legs go out from under her. Standing became an issue as the strokes of his tongue relentlessly lashed her pussy. She was close . . . so close . . .

And then her orgasm hit, hot and wet, a waterfall of lush pleasure. Lightning arced outside and the power of it shuddered through her as she climaxed with wild abandon. No one was around for miles and this time she didn’t have to hold back. She could scream out her pleasure as Walker held tight to her and licked every drop from her.

Walker stood and pulled her against him, his hot shaft sliding between her legs and reawakening her desire as he kissed her, his hands tunneling into her hair to hold her head while he plundered her mouth with the same savage intensity as the storm’s frenzy outside.

He flipped her around and pushed her toward the window. “Bend over.”