More than a Maid (11 page)

Marcy drew in a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "Are you trying to drive me crazy down there?"

He gave her a sexy half-smile and a light shrug. "Is it workin'?"

Before she could answer, she felt his lips press into her inner thigh in a slow kiss as he lifted her leg.

"Ooh!" She moaned when his warm, wet lips touched the back of her knee. She had no idea she was sensitive there.

Marcy's eyes fell closed as he continued, feeling his moist breath. Soon she was squirming unconsciously in response to the sensation building in her pelvis.

And then she let out a squeal and opened her eyes as his fingers slid into her. Their eyes met. Ramon peered around her leg, still kissing the back of her knee, holding her leg straight up in the air with one hand. His other hand was between her thighs, fingers penetrating her in a steady, even rhythm.

The ravenous look in his eyes made her entire body shudder. Her chest went weak as her lungs emptied, forcing her to take shallow breaths. She wanted to scream at him to take her… take her
now
! But she couldn't form a sound. Marcy felt as though she was Ramon's captive. Trapped in his arms, his gaze.

Wholly entranced by a man she barely knew.

His thumb brushed against her clit and she heard herself emit a painful squeal she didn't recognize.

Sensing her need, he lowered her leg and spread her inner thighs wide. Then his head dropped down, and he used his swift tongue to give her release. In seconds she thrashed around on the bed, moaning and trembling through her orgasm.

As Marcy lay there recovering, eyes closed, she felt him reposition her thighs.

And then he was inside her again.

She gasped.

"Sorry," Ramon said, slowly rocking into her. "Didn't mean to surprise you. Couldn't wait."

Marcy giggled. "It's okay." She was ready to tell him it was a pleasant surprise, but then her eyes met his.

His expression was sweet, his lips spreading into a wide smile. His body moving faster, his thrusts deeper.

He was not the insensitive man Cara warned her about. No, not at all. Ramon was thoughtful and warm. An amazing lover.

Marcy stopped her thoughts before they went to, "he's everything I want in a man."

She concentrated on the moment… the way he moved inside her… the way her body shook as his thrusts strengthened…

The way he grunted, biting his lip as he came.

Ramon soon collapsed beside her, his mouth open. Between breaths he whispered, "Shit, woman… wish I… wasn't so tired…" and in seconds he fell asleep.

Marcy chuckled. If he could do that when he was exhausted, she couldn't wait to see what he could do awake.

The next day, a half hour before lunchtime, Marcy found a frazzled Patty rushing around the kitchen by herself.

"Smells good in here," Marcy said as she walked past the stove. "Are we having meatballs for dinner? You need help?"

"Yes, I need help, but no, the meatballs are for subs I'm making for the boys." Patty wiped her hands against her apron before opening the fridge. "Tom and I have a hot date this afternoon so I gotta hurry." She winked at Marcy.

"Okay." Marcy chuckled. "You're making lunch for
all
those guys? The ranch hands?"

"Yes." Patty took a large bowl from the fridge and placed it on the counter. "They work so hard. I try to do something special for them every Friday. And since I was out of town last week, I'm doing a little extra this week to make up for it. Usually Tom and Cara are around to help me move it out there. It may take a few trips."

Fifteen minutes later, Marcy was on her third and final trip through the long, desolate field, this time carrying a tray of cookies. Patty carried the last of the meatball subs.

"It's way too hot for this," Marcy said, squinting at the sun blazing overhead. "I'll have to take a shower when I get back inside."

Patty huffed. "How do you think all these boys feel? I don't know how they stay out here all day."

"I guess they're used to it." Marcy shook her head and repositioned the tray in her arms, sniffing the pungent air that wafted toward her from the pasture. "I guess they get used to the smell too. It sure gets stronger the farther you walk out here."

Laughing, Patty said, "Well, it
is
a cattle ranch. It's not usually this bad. It's just windy today."

Now only breathing through her mouth, Marcy asked, "How in the world did you have time to make all this food?"

"Oh, these are easy. The high volume makes it look difficult."

Just then, a handsome, shirtless man in a cowboy hat came into view, approaching the trailer from the opposite direction. He waved and called out, "Hey Patty!"

Patty smiled and replied, "Hey Joe!"

As Marcy nodded through their friendly banter, she had a hard time looking away from Joe. For a moment she felt like she was cheating on Ramon. But since they had decided to keep their relationship casual, she quickly dismissed her guilt.

Joe slipped his T-shirt on over his rippling muscles and flashed Marcy a thousand-watt smile set off by a tan and dark blue eyes. Swiftly, he took the tray of cookies from her arms, balancing it with one hand as he extended the other. "We haven't met. I'm Joe. You must be Marcy."

Marcy nodded, feeling a little flushed, and not from the sun this time. "Yeah. Nice to meet you. So, you work for Ramon, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm the foreman." Joe bounded up to the trailer, opening the door for the ladies. "I hear you work for him, too. You cut his hair the other day, right?"

Marcy walked past him into the house. "Yeah. He told you?"

Joe shrugged. "Word gets around."

Patty snickered and followed Marcy inside as Joe slipped out of his boots and left them outside.

The trailer smelled of pungent air fresheners, barely masking the scent of all the sweaty men who hoofed in and out of there every day. There was one large common area filled with couches, chairs, and tables, taking up about half of the double-wide trailer's space. Ramon had already told Marcy there were a few bedrooms, but the master suite was locked and off limits to the guys.

Patty lined up the piping-hot sandwiches on the kitchen counter and went to work mixing up a pitcher of lemonade. "How many guys we got today, Joe?"

Joe thought for a second. "Eighteen? No, nineteen."

Marcy's eyes widened. "Ramon told me there were only fifteen."

Joe went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. "There are, usually. We pull some guys over from Kernersville when we're busy."

Three more guys came through the door right then, all of them as strapping, tanned, and rugged as Joe, but in different ways. They shyly introduced themselves as Miguel, Eli, and Rich, each of them holding Marcy's gaze long enough to make her blush.

As they washed their hands and talked among themselves, Marcy sidled up to Patty in the corner, whispering, "Why didn't anyone tell me? They look like calendar models. It's a little overwhelming."

Patty stifled a giggle and softly replied, "You've already got the pick of the litter, babe. Don't ruin it."

Marcy was about to respond when Joe drifted toward them, munching a cookie.

"You think you could give me a haircut soon?" Joe asked. "Been too busy to go to the barber shop lately."

"Sure," Marcy answered as she peered up at his head, trying to see the dark brown hair that wasn't covered.

And then Ramon charged inside, wiping the sweat off his brow as he removed his hat. He smiled like he had something clever to say to his employees, but he was interrupted by Patty's greeting of "
Hola
!" and his eyes abruptly shot in their direction. Glaring at Joe, Ramon put his hat back on.

It was the first time Marcy had seen Ramon in a cowboy hat. She assumed he always took it off before entering the house.

Until this moment, seeing Ramon like this, she had never understood the appeal of a sexy cowboy. Maybe it was his hat. Or maybe it was the tight, well-worn T-shirt that hugged his slightly damp, hard-working body like a second skin.

Or perhaps it was the way his full lips pursed, hiding his gritted teeth as he stormed over and wedged himself between her and Joe. Whatever it was, he was hotter than ever. Out of all the guys in the room wearing cowboy hats, he was the only one who made her pulse quicken and her toes tingle.

Ramon's fingers curled gently around her elbow, the feel of them making her wish they were in her bedroom. To Joe, he offered a curt, "Excuse us." And, ignoring Patty, Ramon swiftly guided Marcy out of the trailer.

It happened so fast, Marcy didn't think to say goodbye to Joe or any of the other guys.

As he marched her down the steps to the field, Marcy asked in a shaky voice, "What's wrong? Did I do something?" She secretly wondered if he was jealous, but the past few minutes had left her head spinning.

Ramon muttered, "Told you not to come out here unless
I'm
with you," as he stomped forward, pulling Marcy along.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Marcy cleared her throat. "Patty asked for my help and I guess I didn't think about it. It's part of my job, to help her. What's the big deal? They all seem pretty nice. I didn't feel like I was in danger or—"

"Joe's a player," Ramon said, interrupting her. "Nice guy, but a player. And he's got this weird, on-again, off-again girlfriend mess goin' on. Miguel's a player, too." He snorted. "And don't even get me started on Silas…"

Ramon continued until they arrived at the back door of the house, giving her a rundown on each of his guys like he was reading from a list. He followed her through the door into the cool air of the air conditioned downstairs, stopping a few steps inside.

When he finally let her go, Marcy asked. "If those guys are so terrible, why don't you fire them?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "They're excellent workers. But that's different." Eyes downcast, he glanced off at the wall, his voice quiet. "I don't trust 'em around you."

Marcy gasped. She had been afraid to let herself think it, but now… "Are you jealous?" she asked. "Is that the reason you didn't want me to go out there in the first place?"

Eyes still on the wall, Ramon let out an exasperated sigh, his face turning a light shade of pink as he absent-mindedly adjusted his hat.

Again, Marcy asked, "Are you jealous, Ramon?" She put one hand on her hip in a defiant stance. "Is that why you marched me in here, like a child?" She blinked up at him, hoping he'd make eye contact. "Or do you think I'm some air-headed floozy who's gonna hop into bed with every smooth-talking cowboy I meet? Because I slept with
you
, it means I'm a slut who's gonna sleep with
them
, too? Let me tell you—"

"I don't share!" Ramon's angry brown eyes finally met hers. He muttered under his breath for a moment, then said, "Damn it, woman! I told you not to go out there unless I'm with you!"

"Oh, so you're giving me orders now? I technically work for your brother,
not
for you. You can't control where I go, or—"

"The hell I can't! This is
my
house and you woke up with
me
this morning. And yesterday morning. And—"

"Is this some kind of immature territorial issue, where you have to be in charge of the women you're sleeping with? Like, 'I had her first so leave her alone'?" She took a tiny step forward. "Or are you jealous?"

Ramon flinched, tilting his head to work out the tension in his neck. "I don't know. Just don't go out there again."

Marcy smirked. "Oh, I think you
do
know. You just don't wanna admit it." Her eyebrows rose. "Isn't that something, Mr. Blunt? The man who claims to be so honest and straightforward." Grimacing, she shook her head. "But you're not being very honest right now, are you?"

Nostrils flaring, Ramon stared down at her. "Your job is inside the house. That's where the maid works. Inside the house."

Marcy's mouth fell open in a huff. "Oh really? I'm just the maid. The hired help you run to when you're lonely at night. I'm not a real person to you, am I? Might as well be a cow."

Growling, Ramon lifted his arms to his sides, then yelled, "Are you ever gonna stop throwing that cow thing up in my face? And you know damn well you're more than just the hired help to me."

Shrugging, Marcy asked, "How would I 'damn well' know that? Was I supposed to read your mind? All you ever tell me is 'I'll see you in bed tonight.'"

"Well, you are. Okay?" Ramon's eyes were huge. "There. I told you." He spun around to the door, opening it, then lifting his arm, gesturing outside. "See that little green shed over there?" He moved his arm. "And that bright yellow fence post? Pretend there's a line between 'em." He gave her eyes a hard stare. "And don't cross that line."

"Don't cross that line…" she softly repeated, wondering if it he meant it as a metaphor for their relationship.

Their eyes locked in a silent, excruciating showdown, then Ramon readjusted his hat and walked out the door.

Marcy was relieved he'd left. She had nothing more to say. Well, nothing that wouldn't make her sound naive. They had only met this week. They had made each other no promises. And it was too soon to talk about relationship stuff like feelings, or their possible future together. Besides, Ramon didn't seem the kind of guy who'd wanna talk about his feelings anyway.

Marcy took a deep breath, then slouched off to the kitchen to do the one thing that relaxed her: cleaning. And when she was finished with that, she'd find another room to clean. Anything to keep herself from going crazy over Ramon.

* * *

Ramon hustled through the field, trying to quell his urge to smash Joe's face. After all, it wasn't Joe's fault a good looking little curvy woman invaded their territory. Got all the guys stirred up like a nest of angry hornets.

But damn it! He'd told her to stay away! There was too much testosterone and stupidity on that ranch for any woman to be safe near those guys for too long. Shit. They were probably all flirting with Patty by now, too, but at least she was married and knew how to hold her own.

Ramon grumbled to himself. No matter how much he wanted to deny it—even to himself—the idea of Marcy being anywhere near Joe or one of the other guys pissed him off so much he could barely think straight. He glanced around the property right then, looking for anything to punch or kick.

Marcy was his. Even if it was only for another few weeks, she was his until she left. Didn't matter if she knew it or not.

Shit. That's crazy.

He spotted a thick branch lying on the ground under a tree, and ran to it. He glanced around to make sure no one saw, then picked up the heavy branch with both hands and gave the tree one violent crack. The branch splintered and broke in half. Ramon let his half fall to the ground.

And he was still pissed.

Shit. He'd looked forward to arguing with Marcy since he first met her, but why the hell'd it have to be about that? He knew he had to stop that conversation before it went to "where is this going?" What a miserable fucking question. How was he supposed to know where it was going? How was he supposed to be anyone's "someone" when his life was just about to turn upside down? As soon as Henry came back, he and his brothers' lives would change forever. He didn't have the patience to deal with a woman's bullshit while he dealt with his own.

But… even if Henry came back and the truth came out and it wasn't as bad as he feared… what the fuck? Wasn't he supposed to be over Marcy by now? Why was he still constantly thinking about her? Why did he care so much if one of his guys came on to her, or hell, took her out on a date?