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Authors: Em Petrova

Tags: #Contemporary Western

Spurred On (The Quick and the Hot) (13 page)

BOOK: Spurred On (The Quick and the Hot)
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“LOOKS AS IF you’ve got a helper.” Buck spit into the grass at his feet.

Hayden looked back to the cows, prepared to see Tripod trying to herd them as he often did. Shock tore through Hayden’s system as Zoe Beth neared the bucking two-year-old bull, rope in hand.

“Jesus!” He whispered it—a prayer she wouldn’t be injured as a plea for his control.

I’m going to whoop her ass.

He planted a hand on the fence rail and vaulted over, running the instant his feet hit the ground. Animals scattered around him, and he riveted his gaze on the crazy woman trying to get a handle on what might be the best bucking bull in their stock.

“Get the hell outta here, woman!”

She didn’t even glance his way, just continued on, lasso at the ready, approaching the animal from the side. One violent jerk in her direction, and the bull would flatten her. The animal was still small, but it outweighed her by a few hundred pounds.

“These animals have never been handled. They’re as wild as they come!” he hollered. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement at the fence as several ranch hands took up front-row seats to view the event.

If Hayden had any say in it, the performance would be
The Taming of Zoe Beth
.

She poised her arm to toss the rope.

He lunged forward and caught the loop. With a violent pull, he removed it from her hands. The end trailed across the ground, and she stepped on it, pinning it.

Glaring, he battled his anger. Didn’t she realize one false move, and she could be laid up in her house for weeks—hell, forever? A kick to the head could give her brain damage. Hayden had been lucky by leaving the arena with a fucked-up shoulder.

He set his jaw and held out a hand to her. “You will not take liberties around this herd. Do you understand, woman?”

“I’m not your woman.”

Hayden lowered his head and stared at her. “Not my woman?” he said quietly, his voice sounding like gravel under a boot heel.

Sparks flew from her gaze. She locked her knees and refused to move more than a few steps away even when the bull began its wild bucking.

“You
are
my woman. Now get your ass out of this enclosure.”

She swallowed, then gave the faintest shake of her head. If her silken hair hadn’t swirled around her shoulders, he wouldn’t have detected her movement.

When she didn’t move, he lurched toward her and gripped her around the hips, lifting her.

A cheer went up from the bystanders.
Christ, I hope Val isn’t standing here watching.
While Hayden didn’t want to appear out of control, he also didn’t want Zoe Beth in trouble. Keeping her by him had never seemed so imperative. The reckless cowgirl was more than the spitfire her daddy claimed her to be.

She kicked against Hayden’s hold, but he stormed across the pasture with her and practically tossed her over the fence. She landed on her feet like the most agile kitten.

And she was as spitting mad as one.

The thought made his lips twist. She started to run, but he hurdled the fence and caught her around the waist, dragging her off her feet once more.

“Give ’er hell, Hayden!” someone called.

He grunted and placed his mouth close to her ear. “You can do this my way, or you can get your sexy little ass back into the house.”

“Everything is your way. I am not some prissy girl unable to work on this ranch. I know what I’m doing!” She writhed in his hold.

Carrying her out of sight, he then set her on her feet. Then he reached around her body and squeezed her pussy, pinching the lips tight together and trapping her clit.

A fractured gasp burst from her, and she slumped in his arms.

“Don’t you forget who’s in charge of your body, sweetheart.” He hauled her into the nearest building, which happened to be the bunkhouse. He shut them into his private room and pinned her against the wall facing away from him. Still cradling her pussy, he massaged it through her jeans and let his other hand roam over her breasts.

His cock strained against his zipper, demanding a feel of her soft ass. In fact it was time he took her in every way possible.

Broke the wildness out of her.

But something told him she’d be a tigress in his arms if he took her in the ass, which was exactly what he wanted.

He licked a path over her throat to her nape. One hard bite made her sag in his arms. Turning her gently to face him, he then lifted her and carried her a few steps to his bed. The single cot wasn’t soft grass under the velvety night sky, but it would do.

Stretching her upon the mattress, he covered her with his body. He lowered his head and captured her mouth, stroking the closed seam until she parted and let him in. The first scalding sweep with his tongue drove him mad.

Fighting the quivers of lust inside him, he realized he had to take the time to make her as hot as he was. Tongue-fucking her as he pinched her nipples through her shirt and bra. When she cried out and rubbed against him, he slipped a hand inside her shirt and bra to twist each bud. She didn’t seem to notice when he stripped off her top and bra until he dropped his lips to her nipple and sucked.

She cupped his face and guided him, forcing him to suck harder, lick more, to bite. A long moan broke from her. Hayden plucked at her nipple with his fingers, drawing it into an erect point while lashing the other with his tongue.

Her hips rose and fell, bringing her heat right against his rock-hard cock. Dying to slip into her tight body, he reared back onto his knees and divested her of her boots, jeans, and even the fresh pair of white cotton panties.

Damn, he wanted to toy with her, to lick her through the cloth again, but he couldn’t stop. He could barely look at her flushed skin and parted lips. Her curves and his need were going to make him blow.

Not yet.

He shed his clothes and boots in an instant. His hat had been lost somewhere during her struggles on the way to the bunkhouse. Seconds later he rolled a condom in place.

She gazed up at him from his rumpled covers, pale eyes burning with desire.

He dipped his head and kissed her, pressing his cock tight to the seam of her pussy. She ground her hips.

“You’re not getting what you want that easily,” he growled. Moving down and prostrating himself between her legs, he drew a deep breath of her aroused scent. “Fuck, you smell so good. You smell like you want me.”

“I do,” she gasped, digging her short nails into his shoulders.

He poked his tongue into her pussy. She bucked, drawing him deeper. Her body squeezed around his tongue, and his cock responded by swelling another inch.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently crushed her clit against her body. Her muscles grew taut. Passion flared in his chest. He wanted to take her to heights she had never dreamed of.

Tormenting her with his tongue and fingers, he got her good and drenched before lifting his head. She mewled in protest, but he shot her a grin. “Flip over.”

Her belly dipped with her sucked-in breath. Her eyes were a sea during a storm—a tempest of emotion he’d never seen before. Gripping her hips, he rolled her onto her belly. He lifted her ass and plunged his tongue into her nether hole.

She cried out, pushing back against his intimate kiss. He worked her until she loosened. Then he ran his fingers through her creamy. He located a tube of lube in the bedside drawer and smoothed it over her virgin flesh. The ring of muscle squeezed his fingers. He ground his teeth against the need to come. Damn, she was so hot. So tight.

He scissored his fingers apart, stretching her. She moved her face on the pillow, giving him a look at her profile. Roses in her cheeks, freckles standing out sharply, eyes hooded with pleasure. Small squeaks emitted from her as he readied her to receive his cock.

When he was able to slip three fingers into her rosette, he withdrew his fingers. She made a noise of protestation.

“Don’t worry, love. You won’t be empty for long.” After poising at her entrance, he guided his condom-covered cock past her tight band of muscle. Though thankful for the lubrication on the condoms, he still took it slow. Giving her time to adjust to his body was the most exquisite torment he’d ever experienced in his life. The need to drive hard and deep was a bright burst in his mind.

Gritting his teeth, he grasped her hips and felt her resistance give way. All at once, he sank another inch. Two inches, until he was firmly rooted deep in her ass.

“Oh…my…God,” she gasped.

It took a supreme amount of willpower to remain still, but he did. Closing his eyes, he listened to her breathing return to normal as she relaxed around his shaft.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mmm.” She shifted on her knees, and the friction against his cock ripped away the thin veil between his inner animal and the steady-minded cowboy.

“Ffffuck!” He withdrew, quivering at the feel of her glove-like grip. A long moan passed her lips, and he couldn’t stop himself.

He sank home.

His mind flipped through all of the words his open mouth refused to say.
Sweet Jesus, hell, fuck, sweetheart. I can’t hold back.

I’ve gotta hold back.

But it was going to be a teeth-grinding, blissful torture. If he remained in her much longer, his chances of making her first anal experience good would be nil.

Reaching around her body, he then located the swollen nubbin nestled in her slick folds. He stroked it with his thumb.

“Ooohhh.” She shuddered, her body flexing around his cock and nearly stealing his mind.

“You like me in your ass, taking your body in every way possible?”

“Yesss.”

“And this? You like this?” He circled her clit until she was gasping. Perspiration slickened her spine. He plastered himself to her, gluing them together, and teased her clit. When her ass squeezed him tight, he threw his head back.

The orgasm rushed up from the tips of his toes, crawled over his spine, and hit his brain like a hurricane wind. The primal roar he released mingled with her cry as she came apart around him. Under his fingers, clutching his cock.

He rode out the blissful storm, mind whirling with pleasure and emotion so intense he could barely draw air.

Flicking her clit once more, he brought her down from her plateau with soft kisses on every inch of skin within reach. He examined her profile again, searching for any sign he had been too rough. But he only saw closed eyes and parted lips, her skin wearing a gorgeous glow.

Without removing his shaft from her body, he leaned forward and tenderly kissed her nape. Gooseflesh rose under his lips, giving him more satisfaction than a solid eight seconds on the back of a bull.

The notion punched him in the stomach. In a short time Zoe Beth had become his high. Adrenaline rush, personal drug, whatever he wanted to call it—she filled a hollow in him that hadn’t healed after leaving the rodeo.

But she was still a little too wild for his comfort. Now that he knew without a doubt she was more than a fling to him, his drive to keep her safe deepened.

Running his hand up and down her torso, he slowly eased out of her body. She sucked in a breath but didn’t move.

Concern flitted through him. He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. With his lips in her hair he said, “You all right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You sure?” He followed the sweet scent along her throat to the crook between neck and shoulder.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“So I’ve killed your brain center that controls speech, and now I can only get grunts and hums from you?”

She giggled.

Tendrils of warmth spread through his belly and captured his heart. For long minutes he lay nuzzling her, listening to the chorus of chickens outside the window of his room and wondering how long he could keep Zoe Beth there before someone found them.

* * * *

Zoe Beth slipped into the old barn where they were keeping Five Feet. Immediately the smell of sickness struck her. Controlling her intake of air through her nose to avoid the odor, she stepped up to the calf’s pen and peeked over the door.

Fear tore at her mind. Ripping open the door, she dropped to her knees in front of the ill calf.

It lay still in a pool of sick, eyes closed and breathing shallow.

Zoe Beth pressed a palm to its neck. It didn’t move.

What was wrong with it? Yesterday it had been fine. Healthy when they moved it, and eating the last time she’d been to the barn. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside the calf, and in hours its health had taken a cliff dive.

“Oh Five Feet. What’s wrong?”

Ten scenarios tunneled through her brain. She examined and rejected each. What it came down to was the calf was sick, and she could not put money into a vet. Sometimes ranchers needed to think with their heads and common sense. The calf had been doomed to die from the beginning, which was why Joseph Michaels had left it on the border in the first place.

He’d been brighter than Zoe Beth. Not only had he done what was best for his ranch—even if he hadn’t gone about it the right way by abandoning the calf—he hadn’t allowed himself to get attached to the animal as Zoe Beth did.

Tears stung her eyes. As she wrapped her arms around the calf, she battled with the decision she didn’t want to make but had to.

The calf needed to be put out of its misery. It was the only humane thing to do.

For several minutes she let her tears flow while the calf’s breathing grew intermittent.

Zoe Beth straightened, and steeled her resolve. She could lie there and sob for the animal, or she could give it one last bit of help.

After gathering her feet under her, she went back out into the bright summery day. Damn the blue sky and the fluffy white clouds. To hell with the sun that shone down on the ranch without a care that her heart was breaking or a helpless creature was about to die.

Zoe Beth broke into a run. A few minutes later she had her shotgun in hand and was sprinting back to the calf. But once she reached the barn doors, she stopped in her tracks. Fearful of finding the calf dead, she strained to hear the animal. Not a rustle of movement came from inside.

BOOK: Spurred On (The Quick and the Hot)
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