Espino, Stacey - Hardcore Cowboys [Ride 'em Hard 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

“I’m cool.” His brother raised his arms at the elbows to display his palms and apparently his innocence. Cord didn’t buy it for a second. They were twins and thought too much alike to pull the wool over each other’s eyes.

Cord sat on the arm of the sofa while Val sat across from Chase. “Cozy.” Their visitor had a conspiratorial look on his face. The long winter was enough to drive every cowboy to near insanity. He looked around the dim, quiet room. “What do you two lovebirds do nested up in here all winter?”

Val’s jaw clenched. “It’s been lonely, Chase. Why don’t you send your baby sister over to keep me company? She can sit right here on my lap.” Val patted his jeans, his eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Chase froze, bracing to bolt into a stand, but then his body loosened. “Nope. Not this time, Valentine. I ain’t letting you push my buttons today.” He took a deep swig of his beer, peering toward the television. “Your satellite working?”

“Not for over a week,” said Cord.

“Dammit.” Chase shifted to pull a pocket watch out of his Wranglers. “The hockey game starts in half an hour. Hope you don’t mind if I take off already.” He chugged the rest of the beer and slammed it on the wooden table in front of him.

Cord couldn’t be more pleased with the idea. He didn’t need the dark-haired ladies’ man hanging around his house when Samantha came home, not until their relationship was solid and public.

* * * *

They drove into town. Wyatt glanced at her in the passenger seat from time to time, but he’d lost that adoration in his gaze. Samantha knew he was trying to stifle his true feelings because of what she’d said, but now that he’d cut her off, she wanted to take it all back. She’d savored their attention, their desire, and never wanted it to end.

Wyatt pulled into a small strip mall, parked, and cut the engine. “So…”

“Wyatt, I don’t want you buying me clothes. It’s not right.” She didn’t have a penny to her name. In fact, she was negative many, many pennies since her rent and bills were due on the first of the month.

“Nonsense. You’re my responsibility…until you return home.” He didn’t look at her now, only scanned the parking lot as if it held some great interest.

“Wyatt, look at me.” She sighed when he didn’t move.
“Please.”

The leather bench seat creaked as he shifted his body toward her. His face was stoic. “I know I ain’t one of your city men with a fancy education. I don’t have much to offer a woman like you, except my love and devotion. I may not be rich, but you’d never want for nothing.”

Her heart broke.
“Wyatt.”
She rested her hand over his. “It’s not that. You’re exactly what I’d want, but maybe I’m not the right woman for you. Have you ever thought about that? I know nothing about farming, have never even seen a cow or horse up close. All I’ve ever done is work at a restaurant. I have no savings, no property, just me—”

“That’s all I ask for, darlin’.”

So simple. A man loving a woman. But it wasn’t simple at all.

“What about the rodeo? I’ve seen your trophies. You’re a legend. You’ll only resent me if you leave all that behind to settle down.” There was a streak within Wyatt, something wild and untamed. She didn’t want him to hate her once he realized she’d stolen his dreams.

“Are you kidding me?” He reached over her lap and slid her whole body close to his. His strong hand and brute strength sent her pulse racing. She’d always think of him as her guardian angel, but the way he looked at her with those menacing blue eyes only brought unholy thoughts to the forefront of her mind. “The rodeo’s not a future for a man, but a good woman is. I’ve had my time to shine in the ring, but it’s not enough for me anymore.”

“What do you want, Wyatt?” she whispered.

He smelled like a man, the wildness of the outdoors, and the faint scent of his musky cologne. Being so close to him, his thigh pressed tight against hers, made Samantha hyperaware of her growing desire.

“I want it all. I want you.” He tilted her chin up and stole a kiss. She closed her eyes and inhaled, absorbing Wyatt, his words, and all the possibilities. He leaned back. “I can understand you being frightened about committing, especially under the circumstances. But never lie to me, Samantha. If you tell me you don’t want me, it should be the truth, not what you think you should feel. Understand?”

She could only nod. He was a mixture of dominance and sweetness, an unusual and oddly erotic combination. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. It’s just a lot to think about.”

“Let’s get you some clothes before I forget I’m a gentleman.”

She didn’t want him to be a gentleman, did she? But before she could protest and encourage him to bring things to the next level in the parking lot, he slipped out the driver’s side door and came around to help her out.

The sun felt warm, spring-like, and melting snow rushed toward the gutters like miniature rivers. She stepped over the water and slush, Wyatt bracing her elbow so she didn’t trip.

“This is the only woman’s store I can think of. Our neighbor’s aunt works here part-time.”

They entered the store, no other shoppers inside. What else did she expect from such a small town. Samantha slipped away from Wyatt and browsed around the circular racks, shifting through the hangers to find something appropriate and cheap. She was so used to paying her own way in life that being assisted in any way felt foreign. Still wearing Wyatt’s old clothes, which were a mile too big, she’d be happy for anything that fit. If she were perfectly honest, she’d love to be able to fix herself up properly, do her hair, makeup, and wear something alluring for the brothers. She may not have the best body in the world, but she couldn’t complain.

“Howdy, Wendy. You survived the storm, I see.” Wyatt leaned against the counter at the side of the store, speaking with the lone employee, who she assumed was the aunt in question. The woman looked to be in her fifties.

“God willing. Who you have here, Wyatt?” The woman nodded in Samantha’s direction. She smiled in return, waiting for Wyatt to introduce them properly. How would he introduce her anyway? This is the chick me and my brothers have been screwing?

“Wendy, this is Samantha Brown. Samantha, this is Wendy Garner.”

The woman smiled, a smile filled with the yearning for juicy gossip. She appraised Samantha, running her eyes up and down her body.

“Just taking her out shopping, are you?”

Wyatt surprised her and scowled, leaning over the counter toward his aunt. “Everyone’s still cleaning up from the storm. I doubt you’ll have any customers today. Why don’t you take off for half an hour, get a bite at the diner, and then come back and check on us.” His tone wasn’t asking, but telling, and she didn’t argue. She nodded and grabbed her jacket and purse before hurrying out the door.

“What was that about?” Did Wyatt have a bad reputation? Did he usually treat his family members, or women, badly?

The bells on the front glass doors chimed as Wendy left the store. “She’s my neighbor's aunt, and I love her, but there ain’t a bigger busybody than her.” He chuckled. “She’s also heard the stories people tell about me.”

“Oh? What stories would those be?” She approached, feeling an unseen connection pulling them together.

“People talk. None of what they say is true half the time.” He used one finger to beckon her closer. His eyes narrowed wickedly. “You scared of me, too, darlin’?”

She shook her head. If he wanted to hurt her, he’d have done it already. Although she could sense a deep authority coming from him, she also trusted him. He was so gruff and sexy, the kind of man women craved but knew would never settle down. But Wyatt claimed to want her, and she only tried her best to throw the chance away.

Samantha stepped forward, obeying his gesture to come closer. “You’re my ideal woman. Quiet, sweet, trusting. Do you trust me, Samantha?” The way he said her name now, slow, enunciating every syllable, made her stomach flutter. Just his voice, his teasing, made her ready to submit.

“Yes.”

“Say my name.”

She responded without thinking. “Yes, Wyatt.”

“Mmm, that’s a girl. I like it when you listen, and my name on your lips makes me hard.” She couldn’t stop herself from glancing down between them, regretting in a moment too late. “That’s right, sweet thing.” He grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand to his rock-hard cock. “This is what you do to me when you listen to my orders.”

Orders? Where had this side of him come from? She glanced to the windowed front of the store. They were alone. Had he sent the woman away so they could shop, or for another reason entirely? She knew Wyatt cared about her. The man had rescued her, cared for her, and doted over her for days. She’d gotten many glimpses into the different facets of his personality in the short time she had stayed at the ranch. He was a patient man, a big teddy bear. Being the eldest, he held an authoritative position above the twins, but he never used that power carelessly. Mostly he was quiet, thoughtful, probably used to being on his own day after day when traveling for the rodeo.

Why did she nearly gasp with the need clawing within her when he mentioned
orders
? He was basically offering her a chance to receive all the pleasure she desired without asking for it. He’d take control, make her comply with every naughty idea he had locked up in that handsome head of his. The reason she was willing to play—she trusted him not to hurt her.

“Your aunt will be back soon,” she whispered.

“No. She knows better.” He licked those thick lips, his eyes swirling with a depraved lust that made her pussy pulse. So that’s what she’d sensed from him all these days, never being able to pinpoint it. Wyatt craved to dominate his women, and damn did she desire him to possess her, body and soul. “Take off your clothes.”

She looked to the windows again and back to him. Did she hear correctly? He wanted her to strip in the middle of the public store, the doors unlocked, and windows facing the vast parking area? Normally she’d scoff at such a request, but the deep baritone of his voice, the intensity in his eyes, and naughtiness of the act, had heat working its way up her body. Her toes felt warm, and her stomach fluttered. Never in her life had she done anything so reckless, so unorthodox, but since coming to the
Carson
ranch, her inhibitions seemed to have vanished.

“Take off my clothes?”

He raised a single finger to his lips, signaling her not to speak. Then he waited for her to comply.

She wanted to please him, to do as he requested, but her nerves kept firing off. This was what she wanted, craved, but fighting back the urge to follow the norm was a constant battle waging within her. Samantha removed her coat and then began easing her arms out of Wyatt’s big shirt, not taking her eyes off him. He watched her like a man possessed, and it thrilled her in new ways. When she pulled the shirt off over her head, she dropped it and immediately cupped her breasts with her hands, forgetting she wore no bra.

He shook his head twice, and she knew what he wanted without him needing to say a word. She hesitantly lowered her arms to her sides and shimmied out of her pants. Again, she had nothing on underneath, and when they coiled at her ankles, she was completely nude. Her nipples pebbled, and her heart raced like never before. The public place and his intimate inspection of every curve, every flaw of her body, made her lust level climb significantly. She should be recoiling into herself, feel shame and embarrassment. Instead, she wanted to see how far Wyatt would take this.

Chapter Fourteen

Wyatt knew he shouldn’t have started this game with Samantha but couldn’t help himself. He had deep, dark needs when it came to sex and love. His desire wasn’t to hurt or humiliate Samantha, but take control, offering a unique form of pleasure. It wasn’t something every woman went for, but he could sense the submissive side of Samantha like a predator to its prey.

Ever since that first time alone in his room, he began to dream about her in wicked ways. Imagining her bound, her hands tied securely above her, flittered through his mind every time he glanced at his headboard. He’d love to smack her cute, round ass until it reddened from his ministrations. Just to hear her beg for more, beg him to bring her that erotic mix of pleasure and pain made him so fucking hot there was no turning back once he saw the opportunity present itself.

He often wondered why he possessed this dark side to his personality. Wyatt spent many lonely nights contemplating the reasons. He came to the conclusion that he needed the power trip during sex to make up for the loss of control he had when his father died. Back then he was young, helpless, and continued to carry the guilt of not being able to do more to change the past. Sex games were his way of coping. They soothed him and aroused him more than sex alone ever could. Necessity became a habit, and now it was a part of who he was.

“Touch yourself. Touch your breasts, baby doll,” he said.

When she complied, so willingly, his cock hardened to the point of discomfort. Her skin was smooth, a beautiful soft caramel hue. As her little hands massaged her tits, he imagined his own hands indulging in the fleshy mounds.

He didn’t want her to think he was a cold, hard bastard who didn’t give a shit about her. That couldn’t be more from the truth. Somehow this stranger had entered his life, toppling it off its axis. She was his, his woman, his everything. He only hoped she understood that this was for their pleasure, something bonding and just for them. Only now would he slip into his role as dominant. During day to day life, he’d love her, cherish her, but in the bedroom—or anywhere else they chose—she was his, his possession, his little sub.