Ropin' Hearts: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 4 (2 page)

She cocked a hand on her hip. Dark-blue eyes would gun down a lesser man. Not him. A veteran Boot Knocker, he could handle any female. From flighty to sad to pissing mad. One little cowgirl from the neighboring ranch didn’t intimidate him.

“You think I’m not old enough to be here, is that it?”

“I
know
you aren’t supposed to be here. Did you pay the fee?”

“Uh.”

“That’s what I thought. Now answer my question, because it’s going to determine how I return you to your ranch.”

“What does that mean?”

He lowered his jaw and gave her a hard look. “Answer me.”

“Twenty-three.”

“All I needed to know.” With that, he sagged at the knees, locked his arms around her smooth, curvy thighs and tossed her over his shoulder. She kicked like a mule, but he was stronger.

When she pounded his back with fists that felt like a child’s, a laugh escaped him.

“Damn you, Ty. Set me down!”

He slipped a hand over the curve of her tight ass, probing the fringed edges of her shorts, dangerously close to the silky flesh. She smelled sweet and soapy, the way a country girl should smell. Sometimes in his line of work, he got women trying to impress by wearing too much perfume. First thing he did was get them into the shower, and, well, they forgot about wearing perfume—or even clothes—right quick.

He continued to carry her across the grounds. When they hit the upward slope, he didn’t slow.

“You’re not even out of breath.”

“I’ve carried sacks of grain heavier than you. And,
yes
, I am a real cowboy. We all are. Many of us got our starts ranchin’ here in Texas.”

“Not Elliot.” Was it him or did she sound a little moony over Elliot?

“No, he’s a country boy from Arkansas. You’d best forget about him.”

She struggled, flopping on his shoulder like a big fish. Her aroused scent filled his head. A telltale heat rode low in his gut, making him instantly hard. She had one of the most luscious asses he’d ever seen, and the fact he was going to deposit her on the other side of the fence didn’t sit well with his raging hormones.

He crested the ridge and walked for a long way before he caught sight of her long, blonde strands of hair dangling from the barbed wire. He swung her off his shoulder and set her down with a thump.

She popped up to her feet like an angry kitten.

“If you don’t come back, I’ll never say a word to your father. But if you do…” he leaned close enough to kiss her pouting mouth, “…you’ll be sorry. Now run along, Miss Roberts.”

She puffed with irritation. They glared at each other for a long minute. “You can’t keep me off the Boot Knockers Ranch.”

“Is that a challenge?” He arched a brow.

“Take it any way you like.”

When she was riled, her Texas twang was pronounced. The corner of his mouth twitched up.

“And stop smiling at me like that. Go back to the ranch and leave me alone.” She did that dismissive waving motion again, and his smile fell away.

“Not until I see you go.” He reached around and smacked her ass. Not hard, only enough to sting.

She jolted but didn’t make a peep.

Not hard enough. She needs to be taught a lesson.
Actually, he had visions of her liking a spanking too much. Little spitfire needed to be tied up. No, that train of thought was worse. His cock hardened and he resisted the need to adjust it.

He jerked his jaw toward the fence. “Get goin’, sweetheart.”

“It’s Bree.” She crouched, extended a leg and slipped under. When she bobbed up on the other side of the fence, they faced each other. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Obliged, Miss Bree.” If he had a hat, he’d tip it.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. Then pivoted on a bootheel and flounced off across her own field, headed toward her quaint ranch house Ty had admired when he’d visited her father. Ty watched her go, trying like hell not to notice the curves of her ass.

He had a thing for sarcastic girls, but this one was dangerous. He needed to wipe her from his mind, and quick. Then he’d go down to the tournament and miss a few more throws on purpose so he ended up naked. It was his week off, but he always had invites to bed. Elliot was a sure thing, though other Boot Knockers asked him to join them and their ladies.

By the time he made it back, the tournament was wrapping up. Most couples had gone off to their bungalows.

His thoughts drifted back to Bree. What was her secret trouble? As forward as she was, it was unlikely she had any secrets. Still, she might have come to the Boot Knockers Ranch seeking help.

Nah. She was just a young woman wanting a thrill. Well, she wasn’t getting it from him.

But Elliot was.

The man was bent over the outdoor sink, splashing water on his face. By the time he straightened, Ty had closed the gap. He grabbed him around the middle and ground his erection into Elliot’s ass. The chiseled planes ignited him, and he bit into Elliot’s neck, tasting salt and man.

“It’s not nightfall,” Elliot groaned.

“I can’t wait.” He spun his fuck buddy, pinned him to the wall and kissed him.

Their mouths slammed together. With a hot rush of need, Ty drove his tongue deep, tasting, aching. He rocked his hips against his fellow Boot Knocker’s.

Elliot dug his fingers into Ty’s ass, hauling him closer. He burned as he flipped his tongue against Elliot’s. “Got a condom?” Ty panted.

“A Boot Knocker always has condoms.”

It was true. Safety came first on the ranch, with sensitivity to feelings a close second. Ty didn’t need to be aware of Elliot’s feelings, though. They were fuck buddies. On this ranch if somebody wandered by and saw two cowboys together, they didn’t give it a passing thought.

He grappled between them, rubbing the ridge of Elliot’s erection snaking to the side and down his thigh. The fresh country air filled his nostrils along with the scent of man. Ty moaned and dropped to his knees. In seconds, he had his fuck buddy’s jeans open and his cock in his mouth.

Hot, salty flesh filled his throat. With strong pulls, he sucked until droplets of precome coated his tongue. When he looked up, Elliot’s eyes were glassy with lust, the depths darkened by his blown pupils.

“You do that so fucking well, baby,” Elliot rasped.

“Do this better.” He reached around and slid a finger, unlubed, into Elliot’s ass. He pushed lightly, not wanting to hurt him, but his partner liked it rough.

“Fuck yeah.” Another few seconds passed before Elliot clutched Ty’s shoulder and urged him to his feet. Elliot fumbled a condom out of his shirt pocket. While he opened the packet then Ty’s jeans and rolled the condom onto him, Ty ripped open the pearl snaps of Elliot’s shirt and lapped circles around each dark-brown nipple.

Want throbbed in him. “I need you. Now.” Grasping Elliot’s hips, he spun him to face the barn wall. He guided his covered dick straight at his partner’s ass. He panted with the need to lose himself in that tight, clenching heat.

He flattened Elliot against the barn wall. “Feel that rough wood on your nipples while I enter you.”

A full-body shiver snaked down Elliot’s spine. When his chest was locked to Elliot’s broad back, he entered in one slow, smooth stroke.

“Hellll.”

Elliot released a hiss as Ty pushed deeper, sinking to the root. They held totally still, chests rising and falling, birds singing in the distance. Ty delivered a lick down Elliot’s neck. “Okay?”

“Yesss. Now move.” Elliot reached back and clamped a hand on Ty’s hip.

He moved slowly at first, drawing out to the tip before plunging back in. His eyes rolled back at the amazing sensation of taking a man. From a young age, he’d known he was bi. As soon as he figured out not everyone wanted to kiss his best friend, he’d accepted he was different in that sense.

He had no inhibitions about his sexual orientation, which helped his career along. He loved his job, while racking up the bucks. A nice nest egg sat in his bank account. Someday when his hips ached with arthritis from fucking, he’d retire comfortably.

Rocking harder, his balls slapped Elliot’s body. The sound was music, and he churned his hips faster.

Short gasps escaped Elliot. Ty twisted the man’s face to the side to kiss him. Their tongues dueled as he pounded into him.

“I can take it. Don’t hold back.” Elliot grabbed Ty’s wrist and placed his hand right where he wanted it—covering his thick, eight-inch cock. The length curved up and out, wetness pooled at the tip. Ty took it in hand and stroked it nice and slow as he entered him hard and fast.

“Like this?”

“Hell yeah. Is this how you fuck that little blonde?”

Suddenly, Bree’s angry glare entered his head. He pushed it out and shoved deep.

Elliot grunted, legs shaking. His back muscles flexed, and what a beautiful fucking sight it was. All that warm, hard flesh. His body gripping Ty’s cock.

Come spurting over his hand.

He pumped Elliot’s cock through his fingers as his own orgasm rushed up. His spine tingled and the air was punched from him. A long bellow ripped into the air. Nothing unusual on this ranch.

Elliot was quiet with release, always had been, at least with him. Ty rode out the orgasm, filling the condom with hot juices of lust.

Sagging forward, Elliot quaked, the final drops of come slicking Ty’s fingers.

“Mmm.” Ty pressed his lips to Elliot’s throat and rumbled through each aftershock. When he pulled free and turned Elliot in his arms, he brought his fingers up to have a taste of his friend.

Elliot’s eyes hooded. “You’re so fucking kinky.”

“You love it.” He lapped his fingers clean and licked his lips.

“So true.”

“I still want you at nightfall. That was a quickie.”

“What about that wild filly of yours?”

Ty fell still, heart suddenly tripping again. “The blonde?”

“Yeah, the one with the great legs. You said she’s not very responsive, though. Maybe you just need to turn up the heat for her.”

“She isn’t really my client this week. I’m off.”

“So am I. Weird that two of us have a week off. Usually we only rotate one at a time.”

“Maybe someone backed out of their contract at the last minute. It’s happened before.”

“Yeah.” Elliot leaned in and ran his tongue over Ty’s lower lip, making his cock jerk all over again. Actually, he was still as hard as stone.

It has nothing to do with Bree and her great legs.

No, Ty was a boob man. He liked big tits he could cradle, lick, suck and later make into pillows. Bree Roberts didn’t have big enough ones to suit him. So what if they were sugar-sweet, popping from the top of that red tank?

He stamped his mouth over Elliot’s. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“You bet your ass.”

With a wink, Ty took care of his condom, pulled up his jeans and walked off to find his shirt lying discarded by the abandoned Cornhole game.

Chapter Two

Bree shoved her cowgirl hat farther down over her brow, ensuring it didn’t bounce off. Then she swung into the saddle and patted Royal Hoofprints’s black mane. The mare tossed her head, and Bree laughed.

“Ready for a good ride?” She kicked her sides and they took off, trotting at first then galloping as the mare hit the field beyond the ranch.

Bree ran her in two loops before they got up to speed and she flipped out of the saddle. As she dangled head down, she used her ab muscles to straighten her legs and hold the pose, counting hoofbeats. The house blurred by; then it was only fence and fields.

Breathing through her nose to steady herself, she yanked herself upright again. “Good girl,” she praised Royal. They’d been riding together—and doing tricks—since Bree was thirteen. The mare had listened to her yell in frustration and her speckled coat had caught many tears.

So talking to her now was the most natural thing in the world. “Can you believe that high-handed
cowboy
, Royal?” Bree spun backwards in the saddle, bouncing along for half a loop before rolling off one side and holding another pose.

“He picked me up…” she landed in the saddle once more, “…and carried me back to the fence.” Damn him for seeing her blonde hairs caught in the barbed wire. She’d felt like more of an idiot.

Without thinking, she performed two more difficult tricks it had taken a year to perfect. From the distance, she heard a cheer from one of the ranch hands but ignored it. They liked to watch her and if she was honest, she practiced at this time of day to show off. What good were skills if they were hidden?

Catching her breath, she galloped for another full rotation before hooking her feet into the loops on her trick-riding saddle and standing. As Royal rolled beneath her, she focused on the horizon. She could ride for a mile this way, breeze on her face, as one with her animal.

Except she was still riled from yesterday’s adventure. Being down there on the Boot Knockers Ranch had thrilled her in countless ways. After storming into her bedroom and slamming herself inside, she’d fallen on her bed and used her fingers on her pussy before pulling her small clit vibrator from her nightstand drawer and having two body-racking orgasms.

All that tanned muscle had raised a need in her unlike any she’d ever known. Too bad Ty had dragged her away. She’d had a chance with Elliot.

As she circled the field two more times, three, her mind raced ahead. After supper, Daddy relaxed in his office with the ranch foreman and a glass of bourbon. He’d never notice if she left, not that she needed supervision.

Slipping under the fence had worked fine, and she’d do that again. But she’d try to stay under Ty’s radar. If he saw her, he’d tell Daddy for sure.

Her thigh muscles burned from holding her balance for so many loops and she lowered herself to the saddle.

The cowboys were driving the horses back into the paddocks for the evening. As they passed, several lifted a hand in greeting. She waved back.

Were the Boot Knockers really cowboys, as Ty had said? She’d always thought of them as being more pampered. The ranch had hot tubs, pools and silk sheets, from what she understood. The cowboys in her life slept rough in the field with hurt cows and lived on jerky during the calving season.

She shook her head. No, if the Boot Knockers had once been cowboys, they couldn’t really call themselves that now. Of course, Ty’s hands
had
been rough with calluses.

Goose bumps broke over her skin, and she brought Royal to a stop with the pressure of her knees. Then she dismounted and walked the horse several loops to cool down.

By the time she reached the barn, her father was there, giving instructions for tomorrow and praise for today. His men stood around him, attentive and respectful. As she entered the barn, several tipped their hats at her or grinned.

Her father gave her a sharp look as she passed. “Thought you had chores, Bree.”

“I’ll get to them now.”

“Trick ridin’ is for fun. You do your chores first.”

She drew up and set a hand on her hip, looking her father right in the eyes. “I’m not ten anymore. My work gets done. What does it matter if it’s within your preferred time frame?”

One of the cowpokes grunted in amusement.

Her father snapped his attention to the man with a muttered “we’ll discuss this later”.

Bree tossed a sweet smile at the cowpoke for distracting her father and led her mare into the stall. She stripped off the saddle and tack, then brushed the horse and gave her a treat.

As she groomed Royal, she listened to the harsher language of the men in the barn. They discussed sick animals and cracked hooves, being saddlesore and who was going into the local town for some beers on Friday night.

She thought about Ty. No cowpoke she’d ever known understood the meaning of the word “objectified”, let alone used it. Ty seemed to be slightly more educated than the men she was accustomed to.

If he hadn’t been an ass, she might have liked him. Her initial reaction to his chiseled body had cooled quickly when he’d called her sugar tits then deposited her at the fence and told her to go home.

Like a dog worrying a bone, her mind returned to his words. What did he mean when he’d asked if she’d come to the ranch to be objectified? Of course she didn’t want that—she was a modern woman. She just wanted a chance with a Boot Knocker and if they all drooled over her, she’d have a bigger pond to fish from.

She finished in the barn and followed the men out. Dinner would be on the table, but she had chores to complete if she wanted to slip away tonight.

“See you inside, Miss Bree.” One of the newer hands on the ranch gave her a crooked-toothed grin.

“Actually, I have to do the chicken coop. Tell Daddy I’ll eat later.”

He bobbed his head, looking as if his neck were a spring. “Want some help with the chickens?”

“No thanks.” The last thing she wanted was company. She needed the time to plan her escape. The ranch hand nodded again and went inside with the others. The table would be set with Cook’s hearty meal and some decadent dessert. Bree would miss out, but she had a smorgasbord of man flesh waiting for her.

After rushing through the job of gathering eggs—so late in the day some of the chickens had booted them out of the nest and she had to go searching—she stood outside the coop, checking her appearance.

Her skintight jeans and boots were a little dusty, but a pat-down took care of it. She stripped off her Western shirt and ran her hands over the cropped T-shirt. It clung to her curves, revealing a band of flesh above her jeans.

As she strode toward the fence line, she tried to imagine what the Boot Knockers were up to at this time of day. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ty telling Elliot he’d meet him. Meet him for sex? Just the two of them or would they invite a woman to join them? Before yesterday, she’d never considered relations between the men.

The mere thought started a tingle between her legs. She focused on that burn, wanting so much more. Tonight she’d get it.

Slipping under the fence was a piece of cake, and much to her relief, Ty wasn’t standing there like a dog guarding a coveted steak. Bree walked along the ridge and down into the valley.

Right away she came across a tall, lean cowboy. He had his shirt off, tucked into his back pocket, and his hat askew as he emerged from the barn. A second later, a woman—older than him, by the looks of it—walked out buttoning her blouse.

Bree’s libido revved. She wanted a romp in a barn. Hell, she’d take a romp in the chicken coop if it meant having fun with a sexy man who knew what he was doing. Judging by the satisfied smirk on the woman’s face, her tall-drink-of-water cowboy was skilled.

A shiver gripped Bree as she wandered between buildings. She still didn’t know what was inside one big metal building, but no one seemed to be in the vicinity, so she took another path.

As she spotted a smaller building, she stopped in her tracks and pressed herself against the nearest wall. A huge cowboy was gathered outside with a muscled man wearing a black shirt and black hat standing close.

“Coming home for supper?” the man in black asked.

The other cowboy gave a nod. “Tell Sybill I’ll be there but don’t hold food for me. I need to check on something.”

“What’s that?”

“I heard someone tampered with a certain cowboy’s toy cupboard again and he blackened another guy’s eye for it.”

“Damn, really?” The man in black laughed.

“Not funny, Archer. I’m going to have to give him a week off for fightin’, at this rate. He’s split Jeremy’s lip, shoved Blake into the horse stall and now this.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Archer kicked at a tuft of grass. “Need to get the guys to work on this lawn. The heat’s killing it.”

“Not much we can do about the weather in Texas.” The bigger man turned and started striding away, his muscles a delicious sight Bree couldn’t tear her gaze from.

“Hugh.”

The man turned to Archer. Something passed between them, hot and primal. Bree’s nipples puckered and she sucked in a breath.

“Don’t be too late.” The insinuation in his tone sent a wave of lust crashing over her.

“Get Sybill ready for me,” Hugh rumbled then continued on.

Archer watched him go for a long heartbeat, before circling the building. A minute later Bree heard an engine start. An ATV shot across the field, heading up the ridge toward the big house.

Breathing hard, she tried to make sense of the connections on this ranch. Those cowboys were obviously together. And they shared a woman? When Bree had first planned to snag a Boot Knocker, she’d only hoped for one. Now she was burning to score two.

“You heading to supper, Ty?”

He looked up at one of the new Boot Knockers. In less than a year they’d lost five from their ranks, and this cowboy had been one of the first new hires. The rookie fit right in with them—Ty just didn’t know him very well. Only that the ladies claimed he was amazing at oral.

Ty dug his pitchfork into the hay and pitched it into the horse trough. “Yeah, soon.” He knuckled away a rivulet of sweat escaping his hat, darkening his work glove. “You go on. Tell Cook to keep a couple of baked potatoes for me.”

He loved baked-potato night. He’d load two with cheese, bacon and chives then douse them in sour cream. That was one of the bonuses of the ranch. The meals were gourmet every day. Sure beat the crap he’d grown up with. His momma had been a terrible cook. He, his two brothers and their father had grumbled through every meal until the week Momma went on strike.

After seven days of cereal and burned toast, they’d learned to swallow her cooking without complaint.

“See you at the grub house.” The man threw him a wave and left Ty alone in the barn.

He’d begun his chores late today. Worn out, he’d been slower than normal. He’d barely fed the horses before he’d had to break up a fight between two guys. More practical jokes gone awry. Most of the time, the pranks were funny. Hell, he’d eventually laughed about his own eyebrow being melted off with cream while he’d been asleep. But some people weren’t good sports.

When Hugh heard about the scuffle, he wouldn’t be happy. Ty shook his head and forked more hay.

The action soothed him. Maybe it was lack of sleep, but he’d been edgy all day. As if his shirt was too tight across his shoulders or he had a piece of hay in his undershorts. Something was rubbing him wrong.

He knew what it was but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Miss Bree Roberts.

Sassy, sexy and totally unwelcome on this ranch. She wasn’t paying, and she couldn’t be here. He should have marched her back home to Dan Roberts and let her daddy deal with her.

She was young, though, and Ty recognized the desire to sow wild oats. Hell, he still was. Women came here to do that very thing, but Bree needed to stay on the other side of the fence.

Sweating freely, he set the pitchfork back in its rightful place and checked the horses one more time. Following a meal of loaded baked potatoes, he’d grab a rod and head down to the pond. Dip a line and maybe catch a bass or two.

As he left the barn, he pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his back pocket. His wallet was already there, bulging with condoms after restocking following a night with his fuck buddy.

That was another thing bothering him. He’d overheard two guys linking his name with Elliot’s the way they did Hugh and Archer. It wasn’t at all like that. He loved his job, and he’d never jeopardize it with a strong bond like Hugh and Riggs had.

In the past year several Boot Knockers had lost their heads for female clients or each other. Hugh and Riggs had dropped from the ranks first, followed by Damian. He was married and had a new baby, happily running his own photography business. And recently Jack had finally convinced Paul to give them a chance—and roped a pretty filly, Lissy, into the deal.

They couldn’t afford to lose Elliot, and it appeared that man was searching for someone to attach himself to. Ty needed to back off and make sure Elliot knew what they had was casual sex. No strings.

Evening was descending earlier now, the sky streaked with pink and purple. The week was wrapping up, and soon there would be fresh blood on the ranch. In a few days he’d have his own woman to peel off the ceiling after amazing bouts of sex. Right now, he was going to enjoy an evening of downtime. Baked potatoes, fishing…and an early bedtime for once.

The grub house was hopping. Guys lined the benches, their ladies curled up beside them. When Ty entered, Elliot waved and pointed to the bench. Ty raised his jaw in acknowledgment, but he wasn’t in the mood to hang out with his friends.

His thoughts strayed to Bree once more. He bet she’d be into a threesome with him and Elliot. If he did invite Bree to his bed, his friend was the only one he’d trust to keep the secret.

No.
He couldn’t allow his mind to take that path. She was too young, her sassy mouth too irritating. She had no business here on the ranch, let alone in his thoughts.

Or his bed.

How many times was he going to repeat these things to himself? He’d have to keep her away from Elliot too. The man had been far too interested in her.