The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

Wyatt was sitting beside her. He frowned and tilted her chin in his direction. “Not very bright when it comes to men, are you, sugar?”

Her chest heaved. Even the loud drone of conversation in the room had tapered down to a few voices. She hated being on public display. But she also loved Wyatt’s take-charge attitude.

“They’re looking at you because they’ve never seen a finer woman. Each one wishes you were at his table, spending the night in his trailer. And I can promise you that given the chance, any man in this room would give his right arm for a chance to fuck you.”

“Wyatt!” Ethan scolded in a harsh whisper.

“It’s the God-honest truth.” He let go of her chin and reached for a serving spoon in a large ceramic bowl of mashed potatoes. She was too in shock to move, speak, or eat. How could he carry on as normal after a bombshell like that? She should probably be offended by his brazen mouth, but his dirty talk registered like foreplay, making her body heat, only adding to the flush on her face.

* * * *

Wyatt may not have been ready to commit to a woman, but he didn’t like the idea of sharing his prize. And he considered Rachel his for whatever reason. On occasion he’d indulge in the private stable, sating his base desires, but not caring about the women he played with. If another cowboy joined in or took over when he was through, he rarely thought twice about it. But for some reason he wanted to keep Rachel to himself for a while longer. Maybe once he bored of her he’d stop feeling the possessive heat bear down on him like a brand whenever one of the crew sized her up.

Or perhaps he was reacting to Ethan’s infatuation. His younger friend seemed to be instantly smitten with the new horse handler. Wyatt hadn’t seen such a spark in Ethan’s step in years. He had to admit, it was a refreshing change to see, and he wondered how long it would last. It was time Ethan stopped blaming himself for things he couldn’t undo and enjoy life again. Maybe the new girl would bring him out of his doldrums and create a much-needed stir at the Iron Spur Ranch. He just hoped she lasted long enough before Damien realized she wasn’t fit for the job.

What would inspire a city girl with little experience in horsemanship to travel hundreds of miles to apply for a job she wasn’t qualified for? It made no sense to him. Unless she was running from something.

They ate their meal in relative silence. Rachel picked at her food, her mind apparently elsewhere. When her attention suddenly piqued, she dropped her fork and stared wide eyed down the row of tables. She’d completely blanched, the blood draining from her face.

“You all right?” he asked.

She didn’t answer, held captive by something or someone. He saw nothing unusual in the room besides the usual chaos and occasional roughhousing.

“Rachel?” Ethan reached across the table and secured her wrist. “Look at me.”

After a few long moments, she finally looked across the table at Ethan. “Sorry. I–I thought I heard something, but it’s nothing.”

Wyatt looked to the table in question. Corbin, Jason, and Steel were engaged in conversation, their laughter overpowering the others in the room. Did she recognize one of them? As far as Wyatt knew, they were hard-working, loyal cowboys like all Holt’s employees.

“Do you want to get out of here?” asked Ethan.

When Rachel nodded without question, they all stood up at once, their chairs scraping the tiled floor. Wyatt wrapped a protective arm around Rachel as he escorted her out of the mess hall. All conversation had been put on mute as they made their way out. Wyatt was well aware he had a reputation on the ranch. Few of the ranch hands gave him trouble because of it.

Night was fast approaching, daylight hours growing shorter with the season. He’d forgotten to ask Damien about sleeping arrangements. There was no place suitable for a female to bunk, and since Rachel was officially on probationary training, there should be something set up for her. He knew keeping her in his trailer was a huge mistake, however tempting.

Damien was probably off watching the sunset again. He was growing more and more distant over the years. But he still managed the ranch well and kept his employees in line, so it wasn’t Wyatt’s place to judge. His biggest problem right now was finding out Rachel’s secret, the one that managed to terrify her in an instant.

“What was that about in there?” he asked once the three of them were outside and away from the crowd. The yard was relatively bare with most of the crew either eating dinner or out in the fields. He turned and stood on the path, blocking the route.

“What was
what
?”

“First you don’t eat. Then you look like you saw a ghost or something.”

She refused to make eye contact. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” He refused to let her pass until he got some answers.

She tried to dart to the sides, but rather than let her by he backed her up until her back hit the side of the house.

Rachel exhaled in defeat. “Like keeping this job for one.”

“There’s more…”

She squirmed under his scrutinizing glare, looking to the ground to avoid facing him. “There’s nothing,” she insisted.

“You were out on the fields all day, and that’s no easy task. Ethan ate half the food on the table in a few minutes, but not you. I only watched you eat a mouthful. Why?”

“I’m trying to diet. There’s nothing extraordinary about that.”

He couldn’t imagine a woman wanting to lose such lush curves. She was delicious to the point of distracting. “So you want to be a stick-thin model?”

“No, but I’d like to look halfway decent. It seems the only jobs I can get are ones in a dim factory or a hundred miles from nowhere.”

“Where’d you get that idea?” He could feel her passion. The quiet, distant girl who’d shown up at the ranch was showing some color.

She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself.

Ethan moved in closer. Wyatt dropped one of his arms to give him better access. “I don’t know what other men told you, but I guarantee you’re everything a woman should be—beautiful, soft, with enough curves for a man to truly indulge himself.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Wyatt, tucking her hair behind her ear. She had such a sweet face, deceptively innocent. He couldn’t help but recall the way her body responded to his touch last night. He should have went through with fucking her, but something inside of him—maybe his last shred of decency—kept him in check.

“No more dieting,” Ethan whispered next to her ear. His friend likely had a hard-on to rival the bricks Rachel was pressed against.

Should he start to push her away? Was he getting too close? Wyatt needed to remember that his job had to come before all else. If he fell for every pretty face he’d be back on the streets in no time.

He’d already crossed the line, taking risks he’d normally not think twice about. Why? What was it about Ms. Price that made him feel like a teenager again? Even though he knew a relationship was out of the question for a man like him, part of him continually demanded he take a leap of faith.

The screen door flapped against the frame until Wyatt secured it. Rachel already felt a sense of familiarity in the small trailer. It was the closest thing to home she had at this point. She was still shaken up after hearing Jason’s name in the mess hall. It had been another cowboy with the same name, and she realized that soon after hearing it. The effect on her psyche wasn’t as easy to dismiss. The name sent raw fear racing through her veins. Jason was just a man, and he held no power over her now that she’d left him. But there were moments when she was back in that little apartment with nowhere to turn. The same panic was unleashed today and she needed to forget.

“I’m going to find Damien and make sure he sets you up with a nice room of your own tonight. Maybe upstairs in his house if there ain’t a spare trailer.”

Rachel whirled around to face Wyatt. “Can’t I stay here again?” she asked without thinking. It was hard enough getting used to her new surroundings and the few people she’d met without adding more changes so soon. And the thought of being trapped in that mansion with Damien made her shudder. She felt safe with her cowboys.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” said Wyatt.

“She can have my bed again,” said Ethan. “I don’t mind.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Are you kidding me? If there’s one thing I know, it’s how much you missed that bed last night.”

As much as she wanted to be with them, she refused to be a burden to anyone. “Maybe I should go then.”

Ethan’s hand came out so fast she didn’t have time to react. He grabbed her arm in a firm but gentle grip and held her in place. At first, a rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins until she remembered who she was dealing with. She’d doubted Ethan was capable of hurting a woman, and the fact reassured her. “No. I’d rather take the floor than have you leave, Rachel. Come on, now. I know you must be tired. Lord knows I’m nearly dead to the world.”

“That’s true. And I promised to treat your saddle soreness. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I sent you off without tending to you properly first.” Wyatt reached out and tugged her toward him by the waistband of her pants. She gasped as her body slammed into his. He was so forward, the essence of raw masculinity.

“I’m–I’m fine.” In truth, her inner thighs, hips, and rear end ached like she’d run ten marathons in a day. She was fighting a battle in her head. Should she leave the trailer and bunk alone and somewhere else on the property? It would be a good first step in her road to independence. Falling for the affections of two irresistible cowboys right after escaping a hellish relationship was a fool’s move. If she was smart, she’d march to the door and keep all future relations strictly professional. But when had she been smart when it came to love?

The war inside her was being won, not by logic but emotion and desire. Rachel didn’t want to leave. She wanted to feel the love, affection, and devotion of these two men—even if it was all a lie. She was addicted to the attention, the compliments, and the seductive advances. It was all new and exciting, a whole new world, and even though she knew she’d fall hard once reality settled in, at least she’d have a few days of precious memories.

“You’re either stubborn as a mule or playin’ shy again. Either way, it’s got to end.” Wyatt began to unfasten her pants, his rough fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach.

“Stop…” she gasped, not bothering to push him away.

He proceeded to tug the material over her hips and down her legs. “Stop ain’t a safe word, darlin’. Not even close.”
Safe word?

“Will you look at that,” said Ethan, squatting down beside Wyatt. “She’s gone all red as if scorched by the sun. One of the worst cases I’ve seen.”

She bent forward to look at her inner thighs. It was true. Her pale skin was irritated beyond measure, the skin dark and angry. “I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t leave it like that.” They both hooked arms with her, escorting her to the bottom bunk. “Let us take care of you,” said Ethan. As soon as her back hit the mattress, he spread her thighs wide. Wyatt held one of her bent knees, keeping her exposed in just her panties. The situation felt way more sexual than platonic.

Ethan trailed his fingertips along the ultrasensitive flesh of her inner thighs, sending goose bumps chasing up her legs. The more he touched her, the heavier her lower stomach felt. Her breathing came out in staggered pants. A pressure began to build, growing with every touch, look, and word. As he neared her forbidden center, his finger barely slipping under the elastic leg band of her panties, her pussy clamped down hard.

Ethan reached for a jar on the night side table and twisted open the lid.

“That’s an old family recipe,” said Wyatt. “It’ll have you as good as new in no time.”

“Did you get it from your mother?” she asked, desperate for a glimpse into these men she was giving everything to.

Wyatt frowned. “It’s Ethan’s family recipe, not mine,” he corrected. “Perfect cure for saddle soreness.”

Ethan began to apply the cool salve. He moved so slowly, gently rubbing in small circles, as if her skin was gold leaf. Her inner thighs were extremely sensitive, each touch bringing her closer to a spontaneous orgasm. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from losing herself to his ministrations, pain always able to ground her.

“She likes it. Keep going,” said Wyatt. He sat on the bed beside her, holding her leg open with one hand. It felt dirty and delicious. She was slowly being transformed into a sexual being, caring more about physical stimulation than anything else.

“Take her shirt off. I want to see her tits.”

She thought this was about taking care of her saddle soreness, not another sex party. But this was exactly what she’d wanted since last night, wasn’t it? Rather than bother to protest, she willed her body to go limp, to accept their advances and trust them with her body. If they’d wanted to hurt her, they would have done it by now.

Wyatt slid her shirt off over her head. She’d been forced to go braless all day since she didn’t have her suitcases and her bra had been destroyed yesterday. Her breasts jiggled, and Wyatt appeared fascinated by the sight of her. He didn’t look at her with distaste, but pure, raw lust. For once, she was actually starting to feel proud of her body. It was enough to keep these handsome cowboys distracted.

“How’s that feel?” asked Ethan.

“It’s warm.”

“Good. It’s supposed to treat your sore muscles, too. My grandfather said he’d never have survived some of his long haul roundups without it.” The sensual massage suddenly ceased. Ethan stood up, looking down at her. She tried to close her legs, but Wyatt wouldn’t have it.

She wasn’t one to ask for what she wanted, but she needed these two men. She knew what it felt like to lose herself to them, and craved it. Ethan stared at her as if she was the main course, but there was a hesitation there. Why was he holding back?

Wyatt’s kisses stole her attention. His hot mouth traveled down her bare shoulder, moving closer to her breasts. She’d never been hotter, but her skin broke out into gooseflesh. “Stop resisting, little lamb.”