Spurred On (The Quick and the Hot) (4 page)

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Authors: Em Petrova

Tags: #Contemporary Western

BOOK: Spurred On (The Quick and the Hot)
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She only tried to brain me with a shovel. And captured my attention too goddamn much.

The man on her left held out a drumstick for her, and she sank her teeth into it with a delicate moan.

Hayden shoved away from the table. Everyone on his end stopped and looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I suddenly remembered I forgot to do something. I’ll just…see ya’ll later.”

“It can wait. Finish your meal,” Val said.

Hayden looked at Mattie and tugged the air where his hat brim would have been if he were wearing it. “A fine meal, ma’am. Thank you.” He clamped a hand on Val’s shoulder. “I really do need to see to something. I’d love to talk more about those bulls tomorrow.”

Right now I have to get away before I beat the hell out of that cowboy feeding your daughter.

He grabbed his hat on the way past the Peg-Board and stomped out of the house. The cooler evening air embraced him, calming his fervor a degree.

Another peal of feminine laughter chased him out of the open window and stole the rest of his sanity. He stormed across the yard to the bunkhouse. A long, low outbuilding was set up with dozens of beds like a dorm. But the foreman had a nicer space—with a door and lock.

Hayden’s balls were full to bursting, and he wasn’t ass enough not to admit it was because of Zoe Beth.

He crossed the bunkhouse to his private room and slammed the door. A twist of the lock wouldn’t keep his demons at bay. He was damn jealous of those men flirting with the rancher’s daughter.

So fucked-up, yet true.

Just one fantasy about her would harness his desires.

With jerky movements, he unbuckled his jeans. The big silver belt buckle he’d won last year gleamed in the fading light coming through the small window. Through it, he could see the backside of the big house. He focused on one of the windows, imagining it was Zoe Beth’s room.

As he slid his cock from his boxers, his pulse raced. His mind flashed with images of the little vixen he needed to purge from his system. He wrapped his fist around his throbbing shaft and fondled his balls with his other hand.

The first strokes drew a growl from him. He imagined Zoe Beth on her knees before him, lips parted, eyes hooded as she sucked him to the root. He worked his hand faster.

This time he thought of her splayed over a hay bale, thighs spread so he could bury his tongue in her pussy.

Heat climbed his body, incinerating all thought. He rolled the purple head of his cock through his fingers, smearing the precum at the tip. Dark need consumed him even as he gritted his teeth against that tumble in his heart that told him he needed to get control.

He fixed his gaze on the window he hoped was her bedroom.

The waves hit hard. Cum rocketed up from his balls and spurted over his fingers, splatting on the floor at his feet. He continued to pump his shaft as pleasure invaded his system.

Along with it came the sweetness of a cowgirl who didn’t want him and who he had no business fantasizing about.

Gasping, he eased his hold on his cock, teasing the flesh. The last bead of cum pearled on the tip. He rubbed it with the pad of his thumb, deep in the fantasies of grinding Zoe Beth’s clit into her tight little body as she screamed with release.

“Fuck,” he groaned, glaring at the distant window.

He didn’t get her out of his system. If anything, he’d pulled her in deeper.

Chapter Three

Zoe Beth flipped on the light. The bare bulb illuminated the small, dusty room in the main barn, which they called the office. Midnight had come and gone, but she was restless—too disgusted with herself to sleep.

After working so hard to keep from looking like a simpering female, that’s exactly how she’d acted at dinner.

Flirting with those ranch hands. What the hell had she been thinking?

I wasn’t. I just wanted to prove to Daddy that I can make my own choices.
And that choice didn’t include Joseph Michaels.

She shivered, still able to feel his hand on her shoulder. Fresh dislike wove through her belly.

Staring at the wall of tack, she grabbed the first worn bit of leather within reach. With quick movements, she uncapped a jar of oil and started working it into the leather, using a cloth. The familiar scents fogged the air around her. Drawing a deep breath, she let it calm her.

Well, as much as she could be calmed after acting like an idiot. Half an hour of flirting, and it would take years to rebuild her reputation in her father’s eyes.

Tears smarted in hers. She might have blown it forever. A foreman couldn’t flirt with the men. She needed respect. Hand-feeding Mark and Len biscuits wasn’t how it was won.

Finished with one bit of tack, she grabbed another off a nail protruding from the rough wood wall. A small metal table and a stool sat across the space. She gathered her supplies and took a seat.

In the main part of the barn the quiet noises of horses sounded. Soft grunts and shifting of hooves on hay. All the comforts of home to Zoe Beth.

The longer she worked, the more the tension eased from her shoulders. Fatigue was finally taking over. It had to be three a.m., and five o’clock came early on a day she was well rested. If she wanted to start regaining her daddy’s respect, she’d have to get up with the roosters.

A scuffing noise reached her. She stiffened and spun on her stool to face the doorway.

“Saw the light on.” Hayden set down something he’d been holding. The shadows obscured the object, but she suspected it was his shotgun. Begrudgingly, she acknowledged a good foreman wouldn’t come unarmed to a barn in the middle of the night when he saw the light on.

Especially since he knew they were targeted by thieves.

“You’re up late.” He moved into the space, and suddenly the office seemed too tiny—cramped. Between his bulky body and the testosterone coming off him in waves, she didn’t have enough air.

“Just getting a jump on this project.” She held up a bridle.

He hitched his thumb into his jeans. Her body reacted in that primal way it had while she’d tended his wound. Seeing his hard body—hell, looking into his eyes—did things to her she couldn’t escape.

A fire started low in her belly, small flames licking at her. Her pussy squeezed hard as he held her gaze—refused to release it.

“I can see your dedication to the ranch,” Hayden said.

Horrible tears stung her eyes. She dropped her head before he could see. “Yeah, well, other people see different things.”

He stepped closer. Her heart pounded out of control at his closeness. What was wrong with her? If she didn’t know better, she would think someone had injected her with female sensibilities. First flirting, and now her body was outright panting for Hayden Meadows.

She clamped her thighs together to ease the throb between them.

“I see a hard worker and a woman who knows this ranch as well as a son might.”

She jerked. Swallowing her gasp, she stared at Hayden. Was she so transparent? She’d never spoken of her desire to run this ranch. And before now no one had commented on it.

Hayden let his gaze drop over her throat to her breasts. Perspiration broke out on her lower back and throat. Damn, he was a fine-looking man. Muscled, perfectly proportioned. The hint of a tattoo peeked from underneath his short-sleeved shirt, the inky black lines making her fingers twitch with the urge to raise the cloth and see the design.

His hair was matted, his hat obviously left behind in his haste to reach the barn. She wanted to run her fingers through the thick brown mass and smooth it.

His drawl interrupted the moment. “Since you’re here, maybe you’ll give me a tour of the office. What’s in those filing cabinets?”

Two short metal filing cabinets stood against the wall under the small window.

Clearing her throat, she attempted to rearrange the chaos of her body. “Everything in this office has to do with the animals. Invoices for every animal living on the ranch—chickens, horses, cows.”

“Health records?” He knelt before one drawer and slid it open. The whirring sound raised the hair on her forearms, or was it the sight of the broad back of the man opening the drawer?

Zoe Beth set down the tack and cloth and slipped off the high stool. Backing toward the door, she fought for her sanity.

Damn, she wanted to lunge at Hayden, wrap her arms around him, and feel the scrape of his five-o’clock shadow as he ravaged her mouth.

Which was 100 percent unlike her. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told her daddy she didn’t want a boyfriend. All of a sudden, her throat was as dry as a Texas creek in August.

Still squatting before the files, Hayden opened another one and leafed through the papers. “Shot records, vet notes.”

Understanding washed through her, and she gulped down a laugh. He was worried about the dog bite and whether or not Tripod had his shots. Feeling more in control of her body, she reached the doorway. Nearby a horse snuffled. “I’ll just leave you with your work,” she said.

He looked up. Again, that pull between their gazes warmed her in places she only touched in bed under her covers. She hadn’t been with a man in more than a year.

No, I was never with a man. Hayden is a true man.

Her errant thought stampeded her again.

Hayden gave a nod. “Now that I’m up, there’s no point in going back to bed. I’ll just look through these files.”

A smile stretched her lips. “You do that. But if you’re looking for Tripod’s file, it’s in the other cabinet. That’s where we keep the dog records.”

“What? Why would I care about the mangy dog that sank his jaws into me?”

She raised a brow, fighting her grin. “I think the shot records are in a manila envelope.”

Then with a bounce, she swung out of the office and left the barn. Let Hayden stay up until dawn trying to find the file on the dog that had bitten him. The worried light in his eyes revealed he believed her bluff about the rabies shot.

* * * *

The muscles on either side of Hayden’s spine screamed with exertion as he wrapped yet another chain around the stump. He and four hands had spent the morning cutting trees, and now it was time to clear the small wooded patch. The tractor was hooked to the other end of the chain, and Billy had his foot on the gas.

Hayden jumped back. “Go!” he shouted with a wave.

Billy floored it, and the stump roots cracked. The edge of the stump lifted, and Billy gunned it harder. Hayden swiped a hand over his jaw, catching a rivulet of sweat. When the roots gave way, the tractor dragged the stump ten feet.

As quickly as he could, Hayden unwrapped the chain and whipped it around the next nearest stump.

The sun beat down on his shoulders. As he’d promised Zoe Beth, he’d stayed up looking over the records until he’d found Tripod’s.

Hayden planned to kick Zoe Beth’s little country ass the next time he saw her. He’d suspected she’d been teasing him about the dog not having a rabies shot, but the prospect of needing true medical attention had worked on Hayden’s psyche until he’d broken down and looked at the records.

The dog was up-to-date. Well cared for, as all the animals on the ranch were.

Hayden had half a mind to turn Zoe Beth over his knee and give her round bottom a few slaps in retribution for getting him worked up. Only, hauling her over his lap would give him a bigger case of blue balls.

Upon finding her in the barn, he’d battled to keep from grabbing her and kissing her plush pink lips. Dammit, he wanted to make her moan.

A horse and rider crossed the field above them, galloping toward the main house. He watched them for a minute, then threw himself into his work. When they’d pulled five more stumps, he called for a break. He and the other guys crowded around to lean on the tractor and gulp water from thermoses they’d brought.

“Only three hundred or so more trees to cut,” one guy said.

Hayden snorted. “A full week’s work if we keep up this pace.”

“Oh I can keep up any pace.”

“All night too. Or so you wish,” another guy jeered.

Laughter rippled through them. Hayden raised his thermos for another drink when the sound of hooves drumming earth traveled over the hillside.

They all turned as the rider came hell-bent across the land. Hayden squinted.

“That’s Zoe Beth,” Billy drawled.

“Carrying a shotgun.”

“Trouble!” another shot out.

Hayden’s gut clenched. He ran forward right into her path. She veered the horse, but not before he caught the reins. Digging in his heels, he allowed the mare to drag him a dozen feet before Zoe Beth brought the animal under control.

He looked up into her flushed face. Her hat rode low but didn’t hide the angry sparks in her eyes. “You’re going to kill yourself, woman, riding like that with a weapon I’m assuming is loaded. What is it?”

“I’ve got it covered.” She hitched the sling of the shotgun over her shoulder and tried to tear the reins away.

“Like hell. I’m not letting you ride out with a shotgun. Tell me what’s going on.”

Her throat worked as she glared at him. “You go back to your cutting and clearing. I have work to do.” She gave a hard yank, and the reins slipped from his hands.

“Dammit, woman. Tell me what’s going on.” He wrapped his fingers around her calf, applying the slightest pressure to her curvy leg.

A spell seemed to have broken. Her face crumpled. “Animal hurt on the boundary.”

The huff of worry burst from his chest unbidden. “Slide back and watch that gun. I’m mounting in front of you.” Without waiting more than a split second for her to listen, he dug his boot into the stirrup and launched into the saddle in front of her. To the guys he hollered, “Keep working. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Sure, boss!”

“Yaww!” Hayden jammed his heels into the horse’s flanks, and the mare took off up the slope in the direction Zoe Beth had been heading. That she’d galloped back to the ranch for the shotgun spelled out how dire the situation was.

Her crotch ground against his ass, and she anchored herself in place by gripping Hayden’s sides. Electricity shot from her fingers into his body. A hum began in his core.

Turning his head to the side, he raised his voice to be heard over the hoofbeats. “Where?”

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