Ropin' Hearts: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 4 (3 page)

Once Ty had a plate heaped with potatoes and a bottle of beer, he wandered back outside. He’d find a spot on the grass and enjoy the cooler air and quiet.

The ranch spilled out before him, a postcard image. Hills, valley, pond. Someday he wanted a piece of land like this to call his own.

He stuffed himself with chives and bacon goodness to near explosion then downed his beer in one continuous swallow. After returning his tray to the grub house, he went back out to the storage shed to find a fishing rod.

The walk to the pond was peaceful. The body of water was the center of the ranch. Lots of guys brought their ladies down here. They held picnics and bonfires as well.

As he ducked through some trees, he spied a couple taking advantage of the solitude. Two slim figures cut through the water. One splashed her partner.

Feeling like a voyeur, Ty sat down, facing away, behind the trees and waited for them to crawl up the bank. Their laughter sounded along with a playful slap and a yowl of surprise.

Several minutes later, the couple walked back to the ranch, arms around each other. With the coast clear, Ty came out of his hiding spot and threaded his hook with a rubber worm.

Five casts later he felt the tension ease from his shoulders and his breathing deepened. Lately the ranch had begun to feel a little small. Twenty Boot Knockers and just as many women and a handful of personnel. Not to mention the threesomes now inhabiting the ranch and a few hired hands. A man couldn’t get a few minutes of solitude.

He drew his brows together, staring at the spot his line entered the water. He adored his job and living on the ranch. What was his problem today?

Probably lack of sleep. Yeah…

A giggle made him jerk the line. Looking around, he caught sight of the tree branches moving. Another feminine laugh. Then a rumble from a man.

Damn. Didn’t even catch a fish and I gotta sneak away.

A boot flew out of the trees and landed ten feet away from Ty.

He glared at that dark-brown leather cowgirl boot. Instant fury leaped in his chest.

Damn it all, Bree’s back on the ranch.
After carrying her over his shoulder, he’d recognize those boots anywhere.

Tossing aside his rod, he stormed up the bank. Grabbed the boot. When he broke through the trees, he set eyes on a round ass in hot-pink panties with bows on the sides. And a Boot Knocker was busy untying them.

“Hey!” Ty hurled the boot. It bounced off the cowboy’s shoulder and the lovers twisted to see who was throwing things at them.

Bree’s face went through a transformation—eyes widening with terror, cheeks flooding with color. Finally her features settled into a look of blazing anger.

But Ty was angrier.

He started toward them. Bree locked a hand over her breasts, which had been bared, her bra straps hanging loose off her shoulders.

“No point in covering up those sugar tits, sweetheart. I’ve already seen them. And so has he.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Ty?” The Boot Knocker, Cameron, was one of the youngest among them. Because he was still thinking with his dick, Ty wouldn’t tell Hugh he was screwing around with Bree.

“Get outta here if you know what’s good for you.” He stared at the cowboy’s surly expression. When the man didn’t move, Ty gritted his molars together. “I said, get out.” His voice was low, hot with barely harnessed rage.

“She’s your girl? Hell, she was all alone. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, and she’s gonna stay all alone.” He reached for Bree. She brought a knee up to root him in the berries, but he leaned away. “Get your clothes on.”

Her long, blonde hair seemed to float around her head as if controlled by her emotions. She jerked her bra back into place. As she reached back to hook it, Ty’s balls clenched tight. For a second he drowned in images of burying his nose between those B cups and inhaling her. And later clutching the mounds together to create a sheath around his cock.

Ty looked away, at the Boot Knocker’s retreating back. He was carrying the clothes he wasn’t wearing.

“How far’d you get with him?”

“Not far.” Her twang grew more pronounced.

God help him, her panties were slipping down her thigh, the front fluttering open. He clamped his hands into fists to keep from grabbing those skimpy pink ties and knotting them. If he had his way, he’d construct a rope chastity belt for her before sending her back to her daddy.

“You’re like some kind of ranch guard dog,” she snapped.

He stared at her profile—rounded cheeks, button nose. Sultry lips. In another few minutes those plush pink lips would have been all over Cameron.

Ty huffed out a breath. “When the ranch needs guarding from young country girls who don’t belong here, yeah.”

She threw him a glare before yanking her top over her head. Blonde hair caught in the neck, but she didn’t bother to pull it free. Instead, she tied up her panties then poured herself into the tightest jeans he’d ever seen.

“What are you gonna do with me?” she asked, pulling up her zipper. He felt every damn vibration of the metal teeth in his groin. Hell, this woman was going to kill him.

“You’re going home.”

She met his gaze, gray-blue eyes flashing. A heartbeat passed between them, long enough for him to get control of his arousal and remember his irritation.

“Get your boots on.”

“Do you do anything but boss people around? ‘Get out of here, get your boots on.’ Do this, do that.”

“I take charge when it’s necessary. Otherwise, I can be the best friend you’ve ever had.”

Her blue gaze slid his way as she tugged on a boot. “I doubt that.” The minute she had both boots over her trim calves, she took off.

He caught up to her in a few strides, feeling the effects of seeing her ass in tight jeans and remembering the silk fluttering away from her pussy, revealing a shadow of hair.

Taking her by the upper arm, he forced her to walk beside him.

“I’ll leave on my own.”

“I don’t trust you. See, you’ve tried to steal from us twice now.”

She whirled, hair flying. A strand caught on her lip, drawing his gaze. “Steal?”

“Yeah, what we have to offer is a service you must pay for. You’re trying to take without paying.”

“What are you, the business manager?”

“No, but this ranch is my life. I’ll do whatever I can to keep it profitable.”

She snorted and tried to pull her arm free. “Do you have a damn business degree now?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Her step faltered.

“You think we’re all dumb muscles down here, don’t you? Not really cowboys. And we don’t have brains.” His shirt really did feel too tight now. He felt he’d burst the seams as his lungs puffed with anger. It didn’t help that each breath filled his head with her sweet, soapy smell.

When she didn’t respond, he went on. “I’ve known girls like you before.”

“Yeah? What am I like?”

“Entitled. You think because your daddy has money you deserve whatever you want. Even if you have to take it.”

“Not true,” she bit off.

“Why don’t you ask your father for money for a Boot Knocker of your own? Or would Mommy be disappointed in her precious daughter paying for a man?”

She stopped dead, and he almost yanked her arm. When he looked at her face, he saw what he’d said was very wrong. Tears sparked in her eyes. “My mother is dead. Cancer, my third year of college.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Bree.”

“Shut up, you ass.”

He released her arm and they walked across the field toward the ridge. He felt like a real piece of shit. Why did she rile him so much? He normally kept his cool, but she got under his skin.

“I lost my grandmother to—”

She cut him off. “I don’t care. Leave me alone, Ty.”

He liked her mad at him rather than hurt
and
mad. “Whatever you say, sugar tits.”

That did it.

With a roar, she turned and launched herself at him. He watched her fists battering his chest for a blink before gripping her wrists and pinning them behind her back. She twisted in his hold, resorting to using her sharp, little cowgirl boots.

He looked deep into her eyes. “If you kick me, you’re gonna be sorry.”

“If you call me sugar tits again,
you
will.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, which pissed her off more. For thirty seconds, she fought like crazy. He held her, spitting out blonde hairs and taking the occasional knee to the thigh.

It was the most exhilarating moment he’d had in a long time.

“All right, all right. I won’t call you that anymore. They
are
sugary good, though.”

She sagged in his hold. “They’re small.”

Startled, he stared at her. Bree was bold and overconfident to the extreme—at least on the surface. It appeared Miss Great Legs might not be so in love with herself, after all. She had hang-ups about size. Most likely, because the media supported women with huge breasts and disproportionate waists, she’d fallen into thinking she was inadequate.

“Size doesn’t make them less tantalizing, sweetheart.”

With a grunt, she tore free. She ran up the ridge and he caught her at the top. In silence, he walked at her side as they made their way to the place where she’d shimmied under the fence.

“I got it from here,” she said without looking at him.

“Make sure I don’t see you back on this ranch. Next time I
will
tell Daddy.”

She shot him a glare then dropped down and performed a perfect roll beneath the barbed wire. When she gained her feet, she took off in a run, silhouetted by the sun, running back to the place she belonged.

“Bree!”

She turned.

“I promise never to call you that again.”

She must have known what he was talking about. With a wave, she started running again.

Smiling, Ty crouched and skimmed a finger over the blonde hairs still caught in the wire.

Chapter Three

Elliot crowded onto the bench beside Ty. The warm, familiar length of thigh against Ty’s made him look up. Elliot’s gaze met his.

From down the bench, the words “Ty and Elliot” reached him.

Shit.

Ty inched away a bit and spooned his morning oatmeal faster.

“Where’s your lady this morning?” Elliot asked. If he felt the wall Ty was trying to erect, his tone didn’t reflect it.

“Wore her out,” Ty said around a mouthful. He eyed his friend, and they shared a grin.

“You got that sweet little brunette, didn’t you? Jill?”

“Yep.” He grabbed his orange juice and drank half of it.

“What’s Jill’s reason for being here again? I remember reading something different on her cut sheet before we started the week.”

“She has unusually long orgasms,” Ty said.

The Boot Knockers across from them perked up their ears.

“Like how long?” Stowe leaned over his plate of eggs.

Ty could leave them hanging, but finding a woman who could orgasm for nearly an hour straight was like discovering an oil geyser.

“Her last orgasm was thirty-eight minutes.”

“What the…” Stowe whistled low.

“Are you shitting us, Ty?”

“Nope.”

“And she’s here why? Obviously she has little trouble getting off.”

“Because the men she’s been with have called her a liar, saying no one can be in a euphoric state for so long and she must be faking.” Usually Ty specialized in women with skewed body images, and having this little lady was refreshing.

“Damn, that’s harsh,” Elliot added.

“It’s made her wary of sex, but after last night, I think she’s cured,” Ty said.

“Can she orgasm more than once a session?” Elliot asked.

“Oh yeahhh,” he drawled.

“What do you do while she’s coming? Kick back and watch TV?” Stowe looked a little more tired than normal, and brackets were formed around his mouth. For the past few weeks, he’d seemed a bit depressed. Ty hadn’t seen Stowe even joke around. He wondered if it was a particular client who’d tied Stowe in knots—instead of the other way around.

“Hell no. I keep things going.”

“How?” Elliot asked.

“Hold her, caress her. And getting a blowjob by a woman who is still coming from the barest touch of your fingers is pretty damn hot.”

The guys whooped.

“Damn,” Elliot said. “Wish I’d gotten Jill. Deana only wants to talk.”

All eyes turned to him. Talking was fine—as long as it didn’t go on endlessly. Judging by Elliot’s expression, this was the case.

“Talk about what?” Ty asked.

Elliot issued a sigh. “Mostly she talks about her ex and what an asshole he is.”

“How long has she been out of the relationship?”

“Four years.”

“Ugh, definitely needs a firm hand,” Stowe said.

The man would use a crop, paddle and whip on a woman like that. He still didn’t sound very enthusiastic, though.

“You think?” Elliot cocked his head.

Ty jumped in. “Yes. She’s waiting for you to shut her up.”

“Negotiate a scene where you can tie her up and spank her ass. See if that doesn’t stop her from thinking of her ex.”

Stowe’s advice was sound. Ty had a little experience with women like Deana, and typically they were searching for someone to take control and shake them out of their destructive behavior. The Boot Knockers saw plenty of women clinging to anger or memories of a dead relationship.

Elliot set down his fork, looking ready to jump to his feet. “Do you really think that’s all she needs? I’m sick and tired of talking. She’s beautiful and soft, and well, I haven’t been laid for four days.”

“Better get back to work then, Elliot,” Ty said.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks for the advice, guys.”

When he left, several others at the long table went too, leaving Ty alone with Stowe. Looking at his friend, he noted dark circles beneath each eye. That was the norm when they were all sleep deprived, but something else was wrong.

“Want to talk about it?” Ty asked.

Stowe barely roused, shaking his head once. “Won’t help.”

“What’s wrong, man?”

Stowe scrubbed his hands over his face. When he raised his gaze, he looked bleaker than ever.

“If you’ve got client problems, I’m pretty good at making suggestions.”

“That’s not it. She’s fine.”

“Not as responsive as some?”

“No, she isn’t.” His voice was gritty. Abruptly, he climbed off the bench and grabbed his plate. “See you later, Ty.”

As he walked away, Ty watched his leather-clad ass. As their resident Dom, he wore leather well. Too bad he rarely played with men. He got off on being in command of females.

Ty finished his OJ and bussed his dishes. Then he went out into the sunshine. He’d left Jill fast asleep. After keeping her twitching most of the night, she must be exhausted. He’d let her rest and rejuvenate.

Some construction was taking place on the ranch—cement pads being poured for a few more bungalows. Hugh had just hired five more guys. Either he was covering his ass in case they lost more lovesick cowboys or they were turning a lot of women away.

It was good business sense to expand, and Ty agreed with the decision, not that Hugh had asked. Maybe when Ty was done having fun as a Boot Knocker, he could get into the business end of the ranch. He stood and talked with the cement crew for a few minutes then headed up to the ridge.

For a week he’d been walking the fence line, looking for signs of Bree. The grasses weren’t tamped down and no more blonde hairs hung from the barbed wire. Did that mean she’d been a good girl and stayed on her own property?

He looked in the direction of her ranch. With her rebellious attitude, he doubted she was behaving. Dan Roberts didn’t have very much control over his daughter, but maybe that was due to her losing her mother.

When he thought about the pain in her eyes at his mention of her mother, he still felt like an ass. Yet she’d shaken it quickly and given him her sharp tongue.

Hell, why was he still thinking about her?

He’d been trying to figure out why she’d burrowed into his psyche. The only thing he could decide on was how much he wanted to teach her a lesson.

His thoughts spiraled out of control, complete with visions of her panties trapping her round little thighs together and her tight ass in the air as he reddened it for her.

The Boot Knockers all had kinks and spanking had never been one of his, but thinking of Bree’s ass under his hand made him as hard as steel. Maybe he’d return to Bungalow 14 and wake up Jill.

Throwing one last look in the direction of the Roberts ranch, he shook off lingering visions of the spitfire. They were both better off if she didn’t trespass.

Mother of mud-splattered man chests, Bree had picked the right time to sneak onto the Boot Knockers Ranch. She had to give her brain the order to close her mouth—the view was
so
pretty.

Tanned gods on ATVs, slicked with mud as they raced through a patch of field far away from the buildings. And they were all in their underwear.

Some women were stripped to bras and panties, arms wrapped around their cowboys as they ripped up the earth. Tonight Bree would put a notch on her cowgirl belt.

I’m gonna get me a piece of that.

She removed her boots and jeans, glad she’d worn her red panties. With any luck, they’d stick out to the Boot Knockers like a flag before bulls. She dropped her top to the stack of clothing and ran barefoot onto the field. Mud oozed between her toes and her feet made suction noises with each step.

But her panties were already growing damp. The Boot Knocker she’d almost made it all the way with last time spotted her.
Let’s finish what we started,
his expression said.

She jogged forward just as he made a loop of the field and came straight at her. He slowed, hooking an arm around her waist. She jumped onto the back of the four-wheeler and wrapped herself around his hard, lean body.

He tossed her a devilish smile over his shoulder. “Howdy, Bree.”

She tightened her hold around his middle, her internal engine revving at the feel of warm muscle. “I’m ready to ride.”

“I bet you are.” He gunned it. The ATV shot right into the fray. Bree was splattered with cold, wet mud. Against her burning skin, it almost felt erotic. She ran her fingers down his washboard abs—speed bumps that would barely slow her down once she got ahold of him. She wasn’t leaving the ranch until she’d gotten what she wanted.

As the man whipped the four-wheeler around, mud splashed over her leg and foot. Another Boot Knocker wearing mud-drenched underwear and a Stetson pulled up beside them. The girl on the back grinned at Bree, squealing when they shot off.

Bree’s driver gave the ATV gas and they raced after, weaving back and forth through the mud, drawing dangerous crisscrosses. Bree whooped with joy as they reached the other four-wheeler.

Just as they neared, her Boot Knocker cut hard to the side, spraying the other riders with mud. The other woman laughed, mud clinging to her hair and dripping down her face. Damn, where else did an adult get to play like this? No wonder these women paid so much for a week on the ranch.

She scooted closer to the hard male in front of her, pressing her pussy right against his ass. He pushed backward and she skated her hand down his abs to the thing she wanted most.

His cock was rigid. She followed the hard flesh from the base to the mushroomed tip, outlining it through his mud-dampened boxer briefs. He groaned and clamped a hand on her thigh. As he inched his fingers toward her soaking center, he drove faster. Hopefully headed off the field to a more private place.

From her peripheral vision, she glimpsed a blur of movement. Then her Boot Knocker was gone, wiped off the vehicle. She cried out, trying to process what had happened and take control of the ATV. Scooting forward, she gripped the handlebars, braking hard.

Bodies rolled, and a driverless ATV rolled to a stop near hers.

It only took a heartbeat to understand. Ty and the man she’d been playing with were locked in a wrestling hold. She jumped off the four-wheeler, sinking into the mud to midcalf. Pulling each leg free took a lot of energy, but she made it over to the writhing male bodies.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Dickhead.”

“I’ll punch out your goddamn teeth.” Ty’s growled oath raised all the hairs on Bree’s body. He cocked a fist, but the other man rolled at the last minute. Ty’s fist sank into the blackish earth.

Grunting, Bree’s Boot Knocker flipped, pinning Ty beneath him in a hold more erotic than anything she’d seen. His groin was locked to Ty’s ass, and Bree’s thoughts stampeded. At least until Ty reached under the other man’s arm and ripped it out from under him.

They rolled, came up sputtering then went down again.

“Stop!” She jumped up and down. “Leave him alone, Ty!”

They continued trying to beat the hell out of each other, the blare of ATV engines going all around them, oblivious or uncaring that two guys were trying to drown each other in mud.

Bree stuck her fingers into her mouth and issued a shrill whistle. Ty looked up, eyes greener than ever within his muddy face. His expression was fierce, an avenging angel’s. Shivers began deep inside her, but these weren’t vibrations of arousal.

He was going to take her to Daddy.

She twisted on her heel and ran for it.

She hadn’t gone five steps before a big body slammed her. She fell, flat out, spread-eagle, with two hundred pounds of angry cowboy crushing her.

“Umph.”

“Get off her,” Bree’s cowboy ordered.

She tried to move, but Ty was too big, too heavy.

And so damn aroused. God, he felt huge. The small ache in her pussy swelled to epic proportions. Without thought to how much she hated him, she arched upward.

“Damn you, Bree.” He bit her earlobe—hard—leaving her dizzy and out of sorts until she realized he was on his feet, and he and the man who was interested in her were trying to pound each other into the mud again.

Ty swung, catching the other in the jaw. Cameron’s head rocked, but he stood his ground.

“Damn idiot.” She pushed hard to unsuction herself from the ground. Thick mud pasted her entire front, and she spat some out, disgusted by the grittiness in her teeth.

Her cowboy came at Ty, eyes blazing. Her hero hooked the annoying man in the gut, but Ty didn’t even wince. Instead he stared at Bree, a vein throbbing beneath the mud coating his neck.

Shit.
The instinct to run burned, but he’d only catch her again. She eyed the closest abandoned ATV, escape in mind. She’d gun it to the top of the ridge and roll under the fence.

As she pulled her foot free, Ty’s voice boomed over the ruckus. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

With a display of primal strength, he grabbed the man and tossed him aside as if he were a pillow. Then he came at her.

She backed up, mired in the dirt, shaken. No,
shaking
. She stared at Ty’s furious face and wondered what he’d do to her once he got her.

She couldn’t let that happen. With a shot of raw adrenaline to her system, she took off. Behind her, his feet slurped in the mud, seeming slower than hers. But he caught her way faster than she’d thought possible.

A rock-hard arm locked around her middle, yanking her off her feet. She shrieked as he carried her across the field, her legs churning in the air.

“If you’re gonna act like a child, I’ll treat you like one.” His voice was guttural.

He set her down and she’d barely figured out she was on solid earth when freezing water hit her skin.

She gasped then screamed. Icy spray seemed to carve into her skin. Mud ran down her body and shivers took hold. She tried to block herself from the harsh hose water, but Ty was determined.

When the water hit her breasts, pleasure warred with pain. She crossed her arms, and he lowered the jet stream to her belly. She loosed a scream that she hoped brought every cowboy on the ranch running, but no one came. She tried again, and Ty directed the water at her face, filling her mouth.

Spitting, she tipped forward, letting water run out. He gripped her upper arm and spun her, giving the same treatment to her back. He painted stripes of water over her skin, taking a long time on her ass, which probably was pretty damn caked with mud. But still.