The Ranch Hand (10 page)

“The horses will see,” she murmured against his neck.

A smile spread over his face. “No one will see.” He kissed her. She trembled against him. Her need turned him on all the more, until his cock was straining at his jeans, desperate to be out and then inside her.

“What happens?” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “What happens after…?”

He kissed her again. Kissed the words back into her mouth. He didn’t care about after. He wouldn’t let himself care about after. After didn’t matter when the now was so important. He’d give anything to make things right for her, for a little while, for as long as she needed.

Reluctantly, he shifted back from her, leaving her lips. He still held her, but he wanted to see her, drown himself in the sight of her. The pale blue of her faded denim jeans sat easy against the light tan on her skin. He reached out and gently slid her jacket off her shoulders and set it aside. Her sleeveless blouse clung in all the right places. His eyes trailed down her body, drinking her in as though he was a man desperate for water, sliding along her curves, her smooth legs to her cowboy boots. Women in cowgirl boots and hats. That was a look that always turned the jets in his hot tub to high.

She set her hands on his chest, pushed off his jacket, then slid them across his shirt and began to undo the buttons, slowly. She stared up at him with those big hazel eyes, a mischievous smile turning up her lips. He started to reach for her again but she gently, but firmly, pushed his arms aside. She stood and walked around him, trailing her hands over his chest and abs. She moved behind him, pressed herself up against him. He could feel her breasts pressing against him, making him ache down low with a powerful need. She began to unbutton him again by touch alone, all the buttons down his shirt and then proceeding to the fly of his jeans. She slowly unzipped him and made a little purring sound as she slipped her hand inside his pants. Her fingers traced his hard cock, then she began to stroke it slowly.

He groaned, turned, and pulled her into a kiss. His hands slid down her back to grip her ass. Then they were tearing at each other’s clothes, desperate to get them off and out of the way, yet frantic not to break the passionate, drawn out kiss. Yet, she finally broke the kiss, breathless, naked, her lips swollen, a hint of flush on her cheeks and chest. She glanced at the wall of tack and supplies and another slow, wicked smile spread on her lips. She pulled the loop of rope off one the peg on the wall. The look she fixed on him blazed with desire as she trailed her middle finger delicately along the rope braid.

Harlan didn’t have to be told. He reached out and took the loop of rope. It was stiff, rough against his palms. He clenched it between his fists and snapped it tight, watching her.

She titled her head to the side and raised an eyebrow and played innocent. “Looks to me as though you’re considering roping something. That right, cowboy?”

“Yep. A filly who wants to have her head.”

“Maybe…she has a lot to give.” That mischievous smile spread. “Of head, I mean.” A laugh burst from her lips. “Wow, that sounded so stupid it was silly and yet completely wicked.”

He kissed her to keep himself from laughing, then trailed kisses along her neck until he whispered in her ear. “Speaking of wicked…”

He broke away from her for a moment and quickly tied a strong knot to one of the hooks on the wall for hanging tack. Then he played the rope out, very aware he was so hard his cock ached, jutting from him, eager to be in her. He tasted her lips again and then urged her back against a saddle stand. She looked up at him, so trusting, her eyes wide, and her breath ragged, shuddering in and out. He played the rope out, very slowly. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip. He slipped around behind her, and she pressed her body against his, rubbing her ass against his hard cock. He reached around her and tied his discarded shirt around her wrists, binding them together. Then he started to wrap the rope around the shirt that now protected her wrists.

“Are you afraid that rope will scratch and burn my delicate porcelain skin?”

He kissed her, gave her tongue and found her more than willing as he reveled in the heat coming off her skin. He only paused enough to murmur, “In a word, yes.”

She shrugged out of his grasp and managed to undo the shirt around her wrists. Then she held them out to him again. “Now do it right.”

He did it right, wrapping the rope around her, pulling it tight, and knotting it. She sighed.

He drew the rope through the hook, pulling her arms away from her body, so she leaned against the saddle mount against the wall, her beautiful ass facing him, the rest of her stretched out and up. She was breathing fast, looking over her shoulder at him with half lidded eyes. Gently he moved against her, reveling in the feel of her warm, bare skin against his. He wanted in her, wanted it so bad it ached inside him, but he denied himself the pleasure. Not yet. Not until she begged for him.

Every kiss he gave her he lingered on. Tasting her with his lips, the salt of sweat on her skin, stroking her with his hands, teasing a nipple until it tightened into a hard nub. Her eyes had closed and her head was titled as though she listened to beautiful, entrancing music, but the only music with them was the sound of her moans and sighs as he worshipped every inch of her body. She arched back against him, angling her hips, displaying herself for him, and his cock almost got the best of him. He was almost desperate to be inside her now. Instead he snatched the free end of a rope and swatted her across the ass. She gasped and grinned back at him over her shoulder.

“You’re all mine,” he growled. “And I’m takin’ my time.”

She could only answer with a helpless moan. He rewarded the sound with a trail of kisses over the taut ass cheek he’d smacked with the rope, soothing the reddened skin. He forged a path of kisses down her spine as his hands massaged her ass cheeks. His finger slipped inside her pussy and found her wet and ready. Her hands were trembling, bound together by the rope, and her body shuddered with need. She moaned and twisted, writhing.

“I need you in me,” she said in a shaking voice. “Need you in me
now
.”

Seeing her like that, hearing the passion in her voice, there was no way he could continue to hold out. He slipped on the condom he’d brought and moved up against her, pushing her legs farther apart, slipping inside her wet heat as she spread to take him in. He drove in deep, loving the feel of her ass cheeks against his body.

Then he lost himself in the pleasure of fucking her. He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t want gentle. He pounded her from behind, driving deep, hard enough to shove her forward against the saddle stand. With her hands tied, he controlled all the leverage, set the pace, and yet, when she gasped at him to fuck her harder, he complied. She was gasping out moans and cries, and he was making low, almost animal-sounding growls of pleasure. When she came, it seemed to surprise her, to break through her as she shattered into orgasm, her pussy clenching around his cock as she moaned in ecstasy. He couldn’t hold off any longer. He came hard inside her, gritting his teeth against the intensity, still thrusting deep into her, but slowing, slowing as the wave of pleasure faded.

Neither of them spoke. Both of them were breathing hard. Carol’s eyes were closed, her mouth partially open, as she still rode the last waves of her orgasm. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her, then freed her from the rope and kissed her wrists where the rough braid had rubbed them red. She wrapped herself around him and gave him the sweetest of kisses.

“Spend the night in my trailer?” he asked softly, hoping against hope she’d agree. “I don’t want you to go.”

The smile lit her up from mouth to eyes. “It’s a deal,” she said.

Chapter Seven

Dawn came too quick. If he’d had his choice, he would’ve stayed in bed with Carol until noon, simply loving the silken warmth of her naked skin pressed against his as she lay curled beside him. Unfortunately he had other work to do and not much time to do it in. Hopefully, after this morning she’d want to spend all the rest of her nights lying naked against him. He was a man with something to prove, and as much as it pained him to climb out of a warm bed with a willing woman, he couldn’t let this golden opportunity pass him by to do something special for Carol.

Harlan carefully disentangled himself from her without waking her, leaving her with the softest of kisses. She murmured and burrowed deeper under the covers. With a smile, he made his way to his trailer’s small galley kitchen. He scrawled out a brief note, telling her he’d see her again later that day and left it on the table for her to find. Then he brewed some coffee, working quickly and quietly, pulled his boots on, and headed out into the chill morning air. Clouds of breath streamed from his mouth as he gathered the tools and gear he needed and loaded it into the truck. He fed the horses and patted Pike affectionately when she nuzzled him. She was eager to be out and riding.

“Later, girl,” he said softly. “Promise. I’ll make it up to you.”

Next he let the cattle out to graze in the fenced-in pasture. They’d be fine on their own for half a day, and he had other work to do.

The sun was well over the trees by the time he had the old truck on the road. A smile lingered on his lips. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Carol’s face when she found out that the universe might be throwing wrenches in her plans, but she had him on her side now, and that counted for a great deal. He wanted her happy, and Carol being happy…well, damned if that didn’t make him warmer inside. Warm enough for any early morning chill.

The tree still remained where it had fallen, having smashed its way into Carol’s trailer, but the top was now covered by a huge blue waterproof tarp held in place on the undamaged section of roof by bricks. The tree trunk was splintered and jagged, showing white, raw wood where it had broken. Many of its branches had snapped off on impact. Others dangled, broken, held on by a scrap of bark or thin strip of wood. The whole sorry sight made him feel a bit of the old melancholy for times gone. His dad had loved trees, had taught Harlan the different kinds, pointing them out when they’d gone trail riding. He was sorry to see one of the proud giants fall. Sorrier to see it fall on Carol’s house.

He unloaded the chainsaw from the back of the truck, oiled up the chains, filled the tank with gas, and turned to work. If he could get the fallen tree cleared by late morning, he could better assess the damage and start on some repairs. He wanted as much of it done as possible before Carol wandered along. The more he had done, the bigger the surprise. She hadn’t wanted his help yesterday, and he’d held off, not wanting to be pushy if she were skittish about asking him to work for free. But things had changed. They were something more now. She didn’t have to stand on pride or ceremony or any other damn thing. He could show her that while he might be a simple ranch hand, there was still plenty he was good for, both in and out of bed. Besides all that, he wanted to do this for her. He wanted to give a hand. If she was determined to be stubborn, fine enough, he could respect that. God knew he could be stubborn on his own. But he’d be damned if he’d simply rock back on his boot heels, make love to a woman, and not help her when she needed a little help.

He started the chainsaw and went to work.

* * *

Carol yawned so widely as she stumbled down the short hall of Harlan’s trailer that she wouldn’t have been much surprised if her jaw had unhinged and the top of her head had fallen off. Which was what her aunt had always warned her about when she’d been a kid. Either that or how a horse fly would veer into her gaping mouth and she’d swallow it if she weren’t careful.

She yawned again as she entered the kitchen with only one thing on her mind. Coffee. Coffee and then Harlan. She fumbled open a bag of coffee, spilled most of her first scoop, and grumbled under her breath about the paradox of needing coffee to wake her up enough to make coffee. She finally got it brewing though, more or less. When she poured off a cup, keeping it black and filling to the brim, she wandered out the door and sat on one of the chairs outside the trailer, wondering where Harlan was. She hadn’t meant to sleep so late, but she’d slept better than she had in months.

He was probably down at the stables. She shaded her eyes against the morning sun, but couldn’t see him. The ranch truck was gone too… She took a long drink of hot coffee. Had he mentioned anything yesterday about heading in to town?

The faint snarl and rumble of a chainsaw drifted to her from far off. Her stomach clenched and there seemed to be an icy hand pushing on the center of her chest. Standing, she craned her neck to see, but that was foolish, because her land was over a rise and she couldn’t see it from here. She took a deep, steadying breath. Harlan wouldn’t have gone off on his own to cut up that damn tree—not after she’d told him she wanted to handle it herself. He wouldn’t have gone against her like that, so it had to be another neighbor cutting up a fallen tree. The snowstorm probably brought down a lot of dead branches and old trees.

Stupid of her to feel that dread. The fear that he’d…betrayed her. She snorted and took a drink of coffee. Her hands were shaking. The surface of the coffee trembled.

The high-pitched snarl of the chainsaw continued.

It sounded as if it were coming from her place…but then again, sound could do strange things bouncing off the foothills. Why, a few times when riding trails up there she’d been certain the neighing of horses had come from right around a bend when it turned out to be far down at the ranch—

She shook her head. Her thoughts were chaining themselves together but not meaning much, and all the while her stomach felt squeezed inside her.

Harlan. Where had he gone? That’s it, she meant to find him. She made her way down to the main house on numb legs, her coffee growing cold, forgotten in the mug she still carried. Her aunt came out the front door and started toward the chicken coop. Carol stopped her.