Page 5 of Dirty Cowboys (Masked Men #7)

Nash

Spiraling isn’t something I do. I live my life hard and fast—it’s why ranch life is perfect for me. I never cared much for wanting to be rough with a woman, not when I have Walker, and even Duke, who can command me to my fucking knees with only the tone in his voice.

People in town know, or at least have their suspicions about what goes on up here, since it’s rare that a woman ventures here and stays the night.

Paulson tried to make a Brokeback Mountain joke once, but it backfired when Marge cocked her fist and slammed it into his nose.

Imagine being taken down by a woman in her fifties in front of half of the people in town.

We don’t care what people conjure up in their minds.

What we have works for us: no labels, no promises of tomorrow, and no future beyond the present moment.

Walker yanks my head back by the hair, bringing his ear to mine. “Are you going to stop overthinking it?” he growls, thrusting deep into me, my headboard smashing against the wall. The sun isn’t even up yet, and I have barely slept.

“I made her fucking cry. I shouldn’t have gone that far. I pushed her too hard.”

Walker pulls my body up, so it’s flush with his own. “You mean the shit she begged for?”

“I know what she asked for; I’m not dumb,” I snap. “But after, she fuckin’ shut down, man. Curled up like she was about to break. I did that.”

He grabs my jaw.“No, you didn’t.”

“You weren’t the one with your cock inside her.”

“And you weren’t the one in her mind.” He forces my head to the side. “You didn’t hurt her, Nash. You gave her something so fuckin’ intense her body didn’t know how to come down from it. That’s not pain—that’s pleasure.”

I stare at him. “She looked so... small,” I murmur. “Like I broke something that mattered.”

“She’s not broken. She’s cracked wide open, and you were the one she let do it.

” His voice softens. “It ain’t the fucking.

.. it’s the quiet after. When her walls are down and there’s nowhere to hide.

” After a moment he adds, “She doesn’t regret it, Nash.

I read her blog last night—she wants more. ”

I forgot about the blog. It makes me relax, and he feels my relief. That’s when he pulls out and forces me onto my back.

I laugh as my back hits the mattress and Walker grabs me by the thighs and almost folds me in fucking half. “Jesus,” I grunt, as my knees are shoved damn near my ears.

“That’s not my name,” he jokes. He doesn’t waste time, slamming into me in one brutal thrust, and my back arches off the mattress, a strangled sound gurgling from my throat.

My fingers twist into the sheets beneath me. “Fuck, Walker.”

“Shut up,” he snaps, thrusting again. “You want to break things? You wanna fuck someone into the ground? Then you better know what it feels like to be on the receiving end.”

My thighs burn with the stretch as he smashes into me, owning every inch. And he does, which the asshole knows. His hands hold my legs in place as he savagely fucks me into the mattress.

“You like this, huh?” he says, leaning over me, sweat dripping from his temple. “You like being my tight little hole to ruin?”

I groan, eyes rolling back .

“Say it,” he growls. “Say you’re my fucking toy.”

“I’m your toy,” I rasp, my breath hitching as he drives in deeper.

Holy shit, I can see the appeal—why Indie liked the way I spoke to her. Who wouldn’t want to be Walker Rhodes’s toy, though? The man is sex on fucking legs, all solid shoulders, muscles, and gray eyes. They bore right through you when he is pissed off—but fuck he turns me on.

Every brutal thrust of his hips has me shaking, fighting to hold on, and I don’t want it to stop.

“You’re going to remember this every time you play rough with someone else,” he hisses, one hand slapping down against my thigh.

“Fuck!”

He slams into me one last time, burying himself deep as we both come, and a few seconds later, his solid, sweaty body collapses over mine.

Duke strolls into the room, already dressed, and puts his hands on his hips.

“Why the fuck are you two still in bed? I told you last night that we’ll be working the cattle at first light.

You want time to fuck pretty girls in the dark, then we have a lot of shit to do today.

You two shower while I take supplies over to the Patterson’s place. We need to fix the roof leak.”

Walker pushes off me and walks naked toward the shower, flipping Duke off before disappearing out the door.

“Do you have a crush on the girl, Dukie?” I tease, jumping out of bed. As I go to walk past him, he wraps his hand around my throat, pulling my face close to his. “Hit a nerve, cowboy?”

“You’re not cute enough to be that stupid,” he says, releasing me, and I stumble backward with a laugh. “Marge called fucking Fiona, who called the Pattersons, and they called me. Now we are fixing the roof and anything else that needs doing.”

“You know you would have done it anyway.”

Duke huffs and leaves the room.

I grab my towel and go to join Walker in the shower. Duke wrapping his hand around my throat made me fucking horny again. He rarely joins us; he likes to watch and get himself off. Sometimes he will talk us both into an orgasm with his rough demands of what he wants us to do.

When I stroll into the bathroom, Walker is already in the shower, suds all over his body, and he stands under the water rinsing off. As much as I could stand here all day and watch him naked, we have to beat Duke to the trap, or he will make our lives a living hell.

I keep replaying the moment when Indie went quiet, the way she curled into herself like she was trying to disappear. Walker might be right about her blog, about her wanting more, but that doesn’t erase the image of her looking so damn fragile.

After showering and dressing quickly, we head down to meet the crew.

I catch sight of Indie standing next to Duke, who clearly couldn’t help inviting her to observe today’s ranch work.

She’s bright-eyed and all smiles, completely different from the woman I left on the porch last night.

Maybe Walker is right; maybe I didn’t break anything that mattered.

Reaching the table of food, I focus on what needs to be done.

“Tell your momma she is an angel from heaven,” I say to Josie, and she screws up her nose.

“She is not. She has a boner for Duke. Why don’t you assholes hurry up. You’re late, and we have things to do today.”

Someone yells out shark week and Josie loses her cool.

I turn to see who is a dead man walking and see it’s the young Stevens boy, who only started this week.

He’s a good kid, works hard, but he and Josie seem to clash.

She catches him easily. Girl has been working here since she was ten years old and has more muscle on her than he does.

She takes him to the ground, bends his arm behind his back as the other boys cheer her on, and the poor kid taps out.

Walker steps up onto the fence rail. “Alright, ladies, boys, and pups, listen up,” he yells, cutting through the early morning shuffle.

“We’re running freeze brands today, so I don’t want any sloppy work.

These calves carry the Callahan mark now, and that means they leave here clean.

” He points at a couple of the crew. “You two are draggers. I want calves brought to the pad. This is no damn rodeo.” He glares at Wyatt, whose smile is ear to fucking ear.

“Wrestlers,” he continues, nodding at a few more.

“Two per calf. Lock them down. We’ve only got a few seconds once that iron’s cold enough, so hold tight and don’t let them twist.” He scans his gaze across the gathered workers, chin lifting slightly.

“I’m on brand today. Right hip only. You screw up the handoff, you answer to me.

Oh, and Sarah Beth is the vaccinator for today. ”

Walker’s eyes land on the two ranch pups, fresh-faced and trying not to look nervous.

“And now, the glamorous work,” he drawls. “You.” He points to the taller one. “You’re our iron runner. And you,” Walker says, turning to the smaller one, “you’re on tagging. Left ear gets tagged, welcome to ranch life.”

A couple of groans and muffled laughs follow.

“Any questions?” Walker asks, hands on his hips, and Indie raises her hand. Walker’s eyes cut to hers.

“City slicker, what can I do for you?”

“Can I take pictures? ”

“As long as you stay out of the way. You get hurt—that’s on you.”

She beams at him. He doesn’t notice as he gets back to addressing everyone.

“We have a lot to do today, and I don’t want to be out all night. Now get to work.”

As Walker finishes his briefing and everyone moves to their stations, I hang back, watching as Indie pulls out her phone and captures the organized chaos.

She’s wearing those same damn boots, but today she’s paired them with well-fitted jeans and a flannel that actually looks like it belongs on a ranch.

“Hey, city girl,” I call out, jogging over before I lose my mind wondering.

She turns, and for a split second, I search her face for any sign of what happened between us. Yet all I see is genuine excitement and maybe a hint of nervousness about being around all the cattle.

“Nash, right?” she says with a smile that doesn’t scream this man fucked me into the dirt and made me cry . “This is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

The relief that hits me is almost embarrassing.

“Yeah, well, stick around. It gets more interesting.” I gesture toward the holding pens.

“Want me to show you around? Walker wasn’t kidding about staying out of the way—these animals are bigger than they look, and they don’t give a shit where you’re from. ”

“That would be amazing,” she says, already raising her phone. “My followers are going to eat this up. They are loving the cowboy vibes.”

We walk toward the branding area, and I fall into step beside her, close enough I can smell whatever cherry-scented stuff she uses in her hair.

I explain what is happening and why. I know it’s a lot to take in when you have never been to the country before, let alone a ranch.

She snaps a few pictures as I explain everything, and I guide her to a spot where the morning sun hits the side of the pens, my hand briefly touching her lower back.

She doesn’t flinch away, which helps calm my nerves about taking things too far, even if she doesn’t know it was me. Sarah Beth spots her and waves.

“You seem to know a lot about photography angles for a cowboy,” she teases, adjusting her position to take more pictures.

“I know a lot about a lot of things,” I reply, immediately regretting how that sounds.

But she just laughs. “I bet you do, cowboy.”

“Come on,” I say, nodding toward where Walker’s setting up the branding station. “Walker’s about to start freeze branding.”

We walk over to where he has everything set up, steam rising from the metal brands as he dips them. Duke’s positioned nearby, arms crossed, watching with his usual intensity. Acting all boss-like.

“What exactly is freeze branding?” Indie asks, raising her phone but hesitating to film before she knows exactly what’s happening.

“A more humane way of branding,” I explain.

Walker looks up from his prep work, catching Indie’s wide-eyed stare. “It’s less painful than hot branding,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Does it hurt them?” Indie asks with genuine concern in her voice.

“For a few seconds,” Walker answers. “Then it’s just cold. They forget about it faster than you’d forget a bee sting.”

I watch Indie process this, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She bites her bottom lip, something I’m learning she does when she’s thinking hard about something.

“What would happen if...” she starts, then stops, glancing between the three of us. “What would happen if someone used one of those on a person?”

The question hangs in the air for a second too long. Walker’s hand stills on the branding iron, and Duke shifts his weight.

“Same principle,” Walker says. “Cold damage to the skin would leave a permanent white mark. ”

“Hypothetically speaking,” Duke adds.

Indie’s cheeks flush pink, but she doesn’t look away. “Right. Hypothetically.”

“Course, a person would have to really want that,” I hear myself saying. “Would have to ask for it specifically.”

“And trust the person holding the iron,” Walker adds, setting the brand back in the nitrogen. “Complete trust.”

I stare at Walker and shake my head. There is no way in hell, no matter how much she thinks she wants it. He just smirks at me and looks away. That fucking asshole is considering branding the girl.