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Authors: Leah Braemel

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BOOK: Tangled Past
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She’d never had anyone claim her before. No one had ever wanted to. The idea of him taking her so carnally set off a delicious dark thrill that made her wonder just how much of her mother she had inherited. “So tell me, what do I have to do to stake my claim on you?”

He pulled her over him again, stroking her hair. “Darlin’, you’ve already staked your claim. I’m yours.”

His cock hardened between them. Grinning, she squirmed down his body until she was between his thighs. His groan when she touched her lips to his cock reverberated through her, sending off tiny quakes deep within.

After running her tongue around his smooth foreskin, she parted her lips and took him into her mouth. She loved burying her nose in the crisp hair, smelling his musky scent. She loved the taste of his salty essence, the first drops of which leaked from the tip betraying his arousal.

“Fuck yeah.”

The first time he’d used the obscenity in front of her, she’d been shocked, but now she knew it meant he was losing control. Maybe she was perverse, but she loved that she had such power.

“Harder, Sarah. Suck me down.”

Her hips rocking, she increased the pressure. Remembering what she’d seen back in the barn, knowing he enjoyed rougher treatment than she’d at first believed acceptable, she wrapped her fingers around the base. From the pressure of her fingers and the suction of her mouth, his hips arched until his cock touched the soft spot at the back of her throat. With her free hand, she reached between her own legs and found the bundle of nerves that was already pulsing in need.

“Oh, fuck, I’m not going to last long.”

Relishing the control she had over him, Sarah kept up the pressure and rhythm until his cock swelled against her tongue. Moments later, his harsh shout bounced off the walls, and hot seed splashed over her tongue. As his cock softened in her mouth, she pulled away, cleaning the head of the last drips of his essence.

He pulled her up to rest her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t think I had it in me to do that a second time.”

“You didn’t have it in you,” she said with a giggle. “You had it in me.”

“Minx.” Keeping her head on his arm, he rolled until he was facing her and played with her breast, his breath warm on her damp skin.

She rocked her hips against the strong fingers he’d left on her mound. “Would you think poorly of me if I confessed I pictured you doing this to me when I was in bed the night I met you? That I also had fantasized about you?”

“Did you now?” His fingers parted her folds and teased the sensitive nub.

“I pretended I was in that stall with you. Between both of you,” she whispered. “And that you were both touching me. At the same time.”

His fingers stopped moving. “Would you like that? Having both of us in your bed?”

She pulled back and stared at him. No, he couldn’t mean actually inviting Nate into their bed. Could he? Fantasies were all well and good, but what he proposed was licentious. Shameless.

Thrilling.

“Did you know Nate listens to us at night?” His fingers resumed teasing her clit.

“Such a pity he had to miss this show then, isn’t it? Maybe we can give a special performance one day. If I ever get up the nerve.”

He chuckled and dragged her against him in a tight embrace. “I love you, Sarah. I never thought I’d have a wife who could make me laugh the way you do. How did I get so lucky?”

It was a question she could ask herself. Of all the men she might have been forced to marry, she’d have chosen Jackson every time.

Chapter Nine

Sarah clutched Nate’s elbow as they walked into the barn. “Be careful right here. The floor’s uneven.”

“I am being careful. You don’t need to be a mother hen,” Nate grumbled, but sweat glistened on his forehead from the effort. It was the farthest he’d ventured since he’d switched from his crutches to a cane. While he was moving better, she worried that he might fall and reinjure himself. Not that he’d listened to any of her arguments, the stubborn man. “Go do whatever it is you need to do.”

There was nothing here for her to do. His ranch hands had already swept out all the stalls and laid down fresh bedding. The water troughs were full, the hay bags filled.

He stumped through the barn, wandering down the aisles before he did a wide turn and returned. He didn’t speak when he wandered to the pasture, where several of her mares grazed. Knowing him, Nate was contemplating how to convince her to saddle one and let him ride.

“Martha was sayin’ old Junior Barnett bought himself one of those steam-powered tractors. It can cut faster and with less hands than the way we’re doing it now.”

Would wonders never cease? He wasn’t plotting to ride. She walked over and stood beside him, watching a team of horses pull a combine through the hay. The quiet whirr of the machine’s wheel as it turned had always comforted her.

“I saw Junior driving it when Jackson and I went to church on Sunday. It was noisy and smelly, and Jackson said they cost a fortune. I can’t see most folk giving up their horses for one.”

“Maybe. But Martha said Junior was thinking of taking it around and offering to cut other people’s fields. If the price was right, it might be worth talking to him. Especially if his claims that they save the number of hands you need are true.”

Plodding hoof beats drew her attention away from the fields. Nate followed her gaze as Zack Barnett approached. “Now there’s a man who’s not happy.”

Sarah had to agree. Normally the Ranger rode up to the house at a trot. He’d swing from the saddle, deliver whatever news he had, then leave. Today the horse plodded down the lane at its own pace.

Nate stirred once Zack drew closer. “Maybe you’d better go into the house, Sarah. Let me talk to him.”

“No. I want to hear what he has to say. It’s probably just that he hasn’t caught the rustlers or found your cattle yet.” It wasn’t as though they could hang her stepbrother twice for his crimes. Unless they’d found Mr. McLeod and charged him as well. It still bothered her that she hadn’t mourned Walt, or worried about her stepfather. At least say a prayer for them? By the time she’d followed the thought, Zack had stopped his horse in front of them and had already swung out of the saddle.

The Ranger hurried to Nate to save him the trouble of walking over the uneven ground. “Afternoon, Mrs. Kellar. Is your husband around?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s up in the back fields checkin’ on the sorghum.”

“Oh.” He took off his hat and scratched his head. “Maybe I should come back later. When he’s available.”

She shook her head, concentrating on the Ranger. At least he’d asked to speak to Jackson first. Otherwise she’d suspect he’d been hurt. Or worse. “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am. About the worst it can get. That’s why I think it might be better if I speak to your husband first.”

“I’m not about to faint or get hysterical on you, Mr. Barnett.” When Sarah folded her arms and tapped her foot, the Ranger looked to Nate for help.

Nate sighed. “You might as well tell her whatever news you’ve come to deliver, Zack. She won’t let it go now.”

His eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He even eyed his horse as if he might leave without telling them anything. To Sarah’s relief, he finally heaved a sigh. “We received a tip that after your brother’s sentence was carried out, a couple of his neighbors confronted your pa about whether he knew about his son’s activities. Or may have even orchestrated them.”

“They killed him.” She searched herself for any sign of grief, but other than a mild sadness found little.

“Yes, ma’am. They threw his body down the well, which is why we didn’t find him for so long.” He turned his hat in his hands. “We’ve given him a Christian burial and all, so you don’t need to worry about that, but there remains the matter of the ownership of his ranch. As his daughter, you’re his next of kin, which means you inherited his land.”

“Oh.” Which meant she owned—Jackson owned—a ranch larger than Nate’s. They had a home of their own. A home filled with unpleasant memories that she’d been glad to see disappear into the distance behind her. “I’ll have to discuss the matter with my husband.”

“Fair enough, ma’am. I can direct you to a good lawyer up around those parts if you need one to see to the paperwork of transferring things over.”

“Thank you.”

Zack replaced his hat on his head and stared at the mare rolling in the dust. “Well, I should be gettin’ along. I’m sure you have a lot to discuss with your husband.”

“I suppose congratulations aren’t exactly proper.” Nate said quietly once the Ranger was out of range. “But I know it’ll ease Jackson’s mind knowing you two will have a place of your own.”

“This place has felt more like home to me than that place ever did.” She faced him. “But it’s time we moved out, Nate. We’ve imposed upon you long enough.”

“I haven’t minded.” He rested his weight on his cane, lifting his free hand to brush the back of his knuckle down her cheek. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you or Jackson.”

She touched her fingers to the back of his hand. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m not sweet. I’m selfish.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’d give anything to have you both with me for the rest of my life. If you decide to move back home, I’d sell up here just so I could move closer to you.”

“We don’t have to move far. We can sell the old one and build something respectable around these parts. Maybe we could buy the old Cain place. Then Jackson can still help you run the ranch.” Did she dare mention that Jackson had already made inquiries about buying the abandoned farm?

“Even down the road is too far from you both, Sarah.” He swallowed. “Don’t leave. Please.”

***

Jackson’s shirt clung to him as he trudged onto the porch where Sarah sat, her sewing abandoned beside her. “Too hot to even sew, huh?”

“The light’s gone, and I don’t want to bring out a lantern because it’ll attract all the bugs.”

She lifted her head when he bent down to kiss her. As their lips touched, he cupped her breast, her nipple peaking beneath the thin cotton gown she wore. In this heat, she’d not only given up wearing her corset the way he’d asked, but her bloomers and chemise as well. The thought of only a single layer of fabric standing between his skin and hers had his cock lengthening.

When she moved to stand he stopped her. “I’m gonna go inside and wash up. You stay out here and enjoy the breeze.”

He grabbed the bucket of water she kept handy and washed up in record time. A quick check showed Nate, shirtless, at the desk in his study, poring over the farm accounts. Thank heavens Nate liked that type of thing, because numbers had never been his strong point. Show him a cow having problems giving birth, or ask him the best way to stack hay, that he could handle. Hell, he’d rather be shoved in a stall between a stallion and a mare in heat than face a wiggly column of numbers.

He dashed upstairs and changed into a clean shirt and lighter cotton trousers before returning to the porch.

A glance over the pasture confirmed there were no hands lingering in the fields, and he couldn’t see anyone in the barn. If he couldn’t see them, he doubted they could see Sarah sitting in the deep shadows of the porch. But even so, he led her into the kitchen and seated her in the rocking chair she kept by the now cool ashes of the hearth. Once she was in place, he closed the door and locked it, then shuttered the windows.

He held up his suspenders and let them dangle from his fingers. “Remember what we talked about the other night, about me tying you up? And giving Nate a show?”

Her tiny gasp and the way her tongue flicked out to lick her lips gave him all the proof he needed that she knew exactly what he wanted, and would get as much enjoyment from it.

“Stand up and turn around, Sarah.”

When she stood to obey him, the fabric over her breasts tightened, highlighting that her nipples had drawn even tighter. He stepped behind her and ground his erection into her ass as he cupped her breast, thumbing the hard buds.

He wrapped the suspenders around her wrist. After a moment’s consideration, he slid the rocking chair around so even if a farmhand did happen to wander out of the barn and saw a shadow on the kitchen curtains, they wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing.

Confident there’d be no unwanted witnesses, he tossed the pillow she’d been sitting on onto the porch by his feet, then took her place in the rocker. “Get on your knees, Sarah.”

Even with her hands tied behind her, she sank to her knees with the grace of a dancer.

“Scootch closer, so you don’t have to lean so much.” Once she was in position, he unbuttoned the placket of his trousers and drew out his cock. “Suck it down. You know how I like it.”

He couldn’t stop the groan when her lips closed around the engorged head. She engulfed him in moist warmth, her tongue pressing on all the right places, applying just the right amount of suction to draw his balls up against his body. He wrapped her braid around his fist and held her still, giving himself a chance to regain the control he was so rapidly losing.

Even held in place, her tongue continued to swirl around the head, to flatten along the length of his shaft and press him against the roof of her mouth. The quiet squeak of the kitchen door hinges warned him that Nate had joined them.

The light from the oil lamp glistened off the sweat of Nate’s chest, accentuating the delineation of his muscles. Using the crutches then the cane had built up his arms and shoulders until it looked like he could lift a heifer with little strain. The cotton fly of his trousers was drawn tight over his erection, and his gaze was locked on Sarah’s mouth.

“We’ve got company, darlin’,” Jackson whispered, though he didn’t take his eyes off Nate.

Sarah started and released him with a wet pop. To his surprise, she relaxed when she saw their visitor was Nate.

“Do you like watching me do this to Jackson?” she asked softly.

“Yes.” Nate’s whispered answer couldn’t hide the desire in his voice.

She sat back on her heels and tilted her head up at Jackson. The minx wet her lips, glanced back at Nate then at the cock bobbing in front of her face, and back to Nate again. There was no mistaking the heat in her gaze, or the question in it.

BOOK: Tangled Past
8.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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