After the Sunset (7 page)

“Yes.”

Rand nodded and then shrugged. “I ship my beef all over the US, Glenn. You should think about that side of the business. Only selling to local businesses will not keep you in the black and allows no room for growth. I diversified before I met Stef, but went further with it afterward so that no amount of stupid-ass redneck prejudice would keep me from providing for my family and the families of my men. Unlike your ranch, you won’t see any people driving down the road to the house, but my server is clogged with orders.”

Glenn was ashen, and I wondered why.

“I could buy you and your father’s ranch and Zach’s if I wanted. Tell that to your ignorant cracker father.”

There was some really bad blood between the two families that I was only right that second hearing about.

Glenn was suddenly in Rand’s face, finger poking into his collarbone. His face was red and he was close to snarling. “My father wants that land up in King, Rand, and so do I. Your mother has no right to—”

“You want the land?” Rand asked icily, stepping back, sideways, so that I was suddenly behind him, shielded. “Buy me out.”

“I knew it!” he crowed. “Your mother signed it over to you!”

“The minute she remarried, the rights reverted to me, asshole. The land is mine now, Glenn, so you can tell your father that a Holloway owns it.”

“You—”

“If he wants it, like I said, he can buy me out. I can graze my cattle other places.”

“Got lots of other land, do you.?”

“Yessir, I do.”

“You know we don’t have that kind of—”

“Then fuck you, Glenn,” he snarled at him, trembling when I put my hands on his hips, willing him to calm down. “That land was my father’s, and I have as much right to it as any of you.”

“It’s family land, and you’ve got no right to it!”

“I’ve got the same rights as you!”

“You’re not welcome there,” he voice was cold, leveling his gaze on Rand, “and neither is your boyfriend.”

“The land is just as much mine as yours, Glenn, and there ain’t shit you can do about it.”

He balled up his fists, and Rand did the same, twisting into a defensive stance, prepared to fight.

“No!” I yelled, and both men turned to me. “Not in my house.”

“Fuck you,” Glenn barked at me.

“Don’t speak to him,” Rand warned his cousin. “Don’t even look at him.”

The world swirled around us. Profanity flew between the two men, Ginger was crying, her friends were clueless about what was going on, and in the middle of everything, Brent told Glenn to calm down because he was frightening Emily.

“Fuck you,” Glenn yelled at him. “You’re such a pussy-whipped piece of—”

At which point, Brent, who I’d thought was quiet and subdued and sort of dorky, ended up hurling himself at Glenn. It was chaos then until I heard Rand’s Uncle Tyler, Glenn and Ginger’s Uncle Tyler too, come in and yell.

“What in the blue blazes is goin’ on in here?”

No one said blue blazes in real life, and that was funny. What was not, was the rifle he was holding in his hand.

Everyone froze because of it.

“I thought it was some kind of home invasion thing,” he announced to us.

“You’re watching too much TV,” I told him.

He shrugged in agreement. “Now what in Sam Hill is goin’ on?”

Really, the man’s expressions were hysterical.

As Rand threw up his hands; I realized that no one was going anywhere now that Tyler was there to mediate.

“Here, honey.” He gestured over to Lisa. “Come stand by me.”

I rolled my eyes at the twinkle in his eye as she walked over to him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Rand groaned.

I rounded on him and leaped, and he had to scramble to grab me. As I wrapped arms and legs around him, I heard the deep contented sigh that came up out of the man. He brushed the hair back from my face and looked into my eyes.

“Now you see there,” Tyler mumbled. “If Stefan weren’t home, you’d all be dead now.”

And I smiled as Rand nodded.

Chapter 3

I
HAD
been really confused until Tyler explained it all to me. All the times I had been to the ranch before Rand and I had gotten together, his extended family had been there and I had been warmly welcomed into the fold. That my being gay was suddenly a problem made no sense.

“You ain’t never seen no Holloways,” Tyler told me. “You seen Millers only.”

“What?”

So Tyler told me that those men, and women, the ones who had been kind and funny and everything else, were Rand’s mother’s family, the Millers. They all lived close by in Lubbock and Midland and Slaton and Paducah.

“Then I never met Rand’s father’s side of the family.”

“That’s right,” he nodded. “’Cept for me.”

I’d had no idea.

As I watched Glenn and the women leave a half an hour later, I apologized to Rand for causing the rift between him and his family.

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” he said, grabbing my hand and yanking me after him upstairs.

“Rand—”

“Stop,” he cut me off, starting up the stairs, pulling me along.

I realized suddenly what was happening. “Rand you still need to feed your cousin Brent and his girlfriend, and you have to pack and—”

“After,” he told me, having reached the top of the stairs and dragging me down the hall with him. “And the food is there. They just need to eat it.”

“But you need to be down there playing good host.”

“Fuck it. They know I ain’t one, and Tyler can entertain ’em just fine.”

“But I should—Rand! You don’t just fuck your boyfriend in the middle of dinner and make people wait to talk to you and—”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” he said flatly, shoving me through the doorway only to kick the bedroom door shut behind him. “You’re my partner.”

I was about to remind him that he was not raised in a barn when my eyes met his, and I forgot what I was going to say.

The man’s gaze was all heat.

I licked my lips, and his eyes went right there before he lunged forward and grabbed me. His lips met mine in a frenzied kiss as his hands went everywhere else. When he pulled back, I gasped for air, knowing that my mouth would be taken again fast. I opened my eyes a second later when they weren’t.

He was staring at me.

“What are you doing?” I smiled at him, my own hands on his hot skin, having burrowed up under the T-shirt and flannel one he was wearing over it.

The muscles in his jaw corded as he shivered slightly. “I’m lookin’ at you. Christ, I could look at you every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.”

His gaze never failed to make my stomach roll over because I could tell, anyone could, that I was cherished.

“You’re so beautiful, Stef,” he sighed, his hand on my cheek, “and your eyes, your gorgeous green eyes, just kill me.”

I stepped back and pulled my T-shirt up over my head. I watched his hot eyes narrow as he gazed at me, and I was keenly aware of his desire. His breathing, the bulge in his jeans, his hands that reached for me—all of him wanted all of me.

I walked backward out of reach, unbuckling my belt, working fast to get out of my jeans and the briefs underneath. When I was naked, I let him reach me, and him being fully clothed and me without anything on brought a throaty moan up from his chest.

He pressed against me, his hand fondling my ass, and when I pushed back, he grabbed a handful and squeezed tight. My reaction was unrestrained, primitive, the throaty moan torn out of me.

“Jesus, Stef,” he murmured before he shoved me down hard onto the bed, and I watched as he frantically went to work on his own clothes.

He yanked off his boots and his flannel shirt, but his jeans were only opened, and the T-shirt was still on when he crawled up on the bed and grabbed my hips. I was rolled over onto my stomach and yanked up onto my hands and knees.

“You have the most beautiful backside I have ever seen in my life,” he told me, his hand sliding down the slope of my back up over my bottom. “It is round and firm and just perfect. Do you know what you do to me? Just seeing the curve of your ass in your jeans makes me hard.”

It was good to know, I thought, as I wiggled it for him.

“Stef,” he groaned his husky tenor sounding like he was in pain.

“Rand, come—oh.”

His mouth, his delicious, hot, wet mouth was on my ass. The bite on my right cheek made me moan, his hands spreading me stopped my breathing, and when his tongue slid over my entrance, I choked out his name.

“There you go,” he said, before he swirled his tongue inside me, deeper and deeper, before I felt him add a finger.

I jolted under him, and I was aware of him moving, lifting his lips from me even as the finger remained. I pushed back, felt him moving, and heard the jostle of the nightstand and the snap of the flip-top cap.

“Oh God, Rand, please.”

A second finger, slicked with lube, joined the first, and the burn felt incredible.

I shoved back, and he made a noise in the back of his throat, scissoring his fingers apart, gently, slowly, but firmly, insistently.

“God, Stef, you’re trying to suck my fingers down into you, and I want it to be my cock. I need it to be my cock.”

“Then fuck me.”

“Jesus, you’re beautiful, the lines of you, your hair and your eyes and your warm skin and your ass… fuck.”

He liked to look at me, loved to touch me, smooth his hands all over me before he had to get closer, had to be joined with me, sink his flesh inside of mine.

I levered back on his fingers, the burn, the pinch, having already been replaced with heart-pounding, blood-tingling anticipation.

“Stef, I can’t—this is as ready as you’re gonna be.”

If he didn’t do something, I was going to scream. “Rand… baby….”

His hands gripped my hips hard, and he thrust inside of me in one powerful forward thrust. I had no idea he could feel so good.

“Rand!”

And since he knew the sound of my voice, he didn’t worry that he’d hurt me. He just eased out, only to plunge back in again, harder, faster, stretching me, filling me, as he held me tight, not letting me move.

I lifted up, taking him in deeper, and the strangled moan came out of him even as he ordered me to grab my dick because he couldn’t. There was no way for him to stroke me off. He didn’t have the concentration. His control was shattered by the adrenaline from earlier, and now he wanted only to be buried to his balls in my ass, hammer into me, and take me hard.

I begged him for it.

“Stef,” he dragged my name up from his chest before he bit down into my shoulder. “Come for me.”

Other men had tried to claim me, and I had laughed at them because I knew, in the end, that they were not stronger than me. And yes, most of them had been stronger physically, but no one could hold against my sneering contempt, my barbed tongue, and my scathing commentary. I was icy and mean and unfeeling, and they had slunk away with their tails between their legs, cowed and broken. I had never been anything but cold and indifferent, never giving my heart.

And then there was Rand.

Rand Holloway had always stood against the onslaught of my vindictive nature and given back everything I had dished out. And once I had found out he loved me, and even more amazing, that I loved him back, all that fierce, proud venom had alchemized into devouring heat. So for him, only for him, when he demanded my surrender, my submission, I gave it because I could deny the man nothing.

His name came from my throat in a gasp of breath as the orgasm crashed through me, all my muscles tightening at once, my climax triggering Rand’s. His body gave out, and he collapsed on top of me, driving me down onto the bed. My laughter could not be stifled.

“Ass,” he grumbled, unable to move, not wanting to move, content to ride out the aftershocks buried to the hilt inside me.

“Say it now,” I demanded.

His lips were on my ear. “I love you so fucking much, Stef. You belong to me.”

And even though I knew it, hearing it meant a lot. Who knew I would be just as addicted to the man’s words as his actions?

R
AND
and I had come downstairs after we cleaned up enough to be presentable, and his cousin Brent was dumbfounded. It was me looking debauched with swollen lips and hooded eyes and Rand sated and sweet, yawning with a smile that curled his mouth, that did it.

“I had no idea he could even look like that,” Brent told me, tipping his head at Rand as he listened to something Emily was saying.

“Like what?”

“Not mean.”

But even when Rand and I had been enemies, I had never thought he was mean. I had always seen the man clearly, even when I was confused about everything else.

When the phone in the hall rang, I got up from the table where we were having dessert, the four of us plus Rand’s Uncle Tyler, and excused myself to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, may I speak to Rand Holloway please?”

“I’m sorry, he’s busy right now. Can I take a message for him?”

“Oh yes, please, would you let him know that Katie Beal from the Truscott Rodeo called and that I called to confirm the participation of the Red Diamond at the rodeo on Friday.”