Page 14 of Wrangled Up (Menage a Trouble #2)

Shouldering the sledge and the old post, and with the screwdriver in hand, he strode down the hill toward her.

She stood against the fence with Boomerang, watching him come.

Hair loose now around her shoulders, the wind grabbing at her uniform dress.

That stiff little white collar stood up as if waving at him to come on and do his worst. Tell her how he felt, shove that crisp fabric aside and kiss her throat.

As their gazes locked, they shared a grin. He came on, loping faster.

Boomerang nudged her hand, and she lifted it to absently stroke the animal’s furry head.

“So much for getting a shower before you arrived.” He tipped the things he carried to the ground and leaned them against the fence.

“Don’t let me stop you. I still need to change too. Not very easy to climb the fences in this.” She smoothed her palms down her hips, conforming the cloth to her curves.

For a moment, she just stared at him. “You look tired.”

“Am tired.” Dog tired. But if you agree to wrap those round thighs around my head, I’ll show you just how not tired I can be .

She swayed toward him but caught herself before their bodies touched.

Words jumped onto his tongue. “I was thinking.”

“Do that often?”

“Smartass.” He huffed out a chuckle. Then he wrapped his fingers around her wrist, overlapping the digits. “Look. You waste a hell of a lot of gas and lose extra minutes of sleep coming up here every morning.”

Something shifted behind her eyes. “I’m happy to help out.” Her voice raised on the last word in a defensive echo of her posture. She extended one foot and tapped it.

“No, Claire, you misunderstand me. I don’t want you to stop coming up. I want you to start staying here with me.”

Shock washed her features clean. “What?”

“Yeah.” He wanted to look away, too worried about her rejection, but he refused to be that sort of man. “I’ve been sleeping in the guest room. Actually, I’ve been waking up on the couch fully dressed most mornings, but that’s beside the point.”

A reluctant smile twitched the corner of her lips .

“If you stay here, you don’t have to get up so early.”

“That’s all? The only reason for me to stay?”

He reeled her in by the wrist, bringing her so close that her breasts brushed his chest. Leaning over her, he whispered, “I want you to sleep in my arms.”

She dropped her head so he stared at the glossy curls inches from his nose. He ran his finger over her pulse and found it tripping out of control.

“Say you’ll try it for one night.”

“I won’t say that because I know I’ll want more.”

Her words split his heart. It opened up and tugged her more firmly inside.

He caressed her head with his lips, tasting her citrusy shampoo. His smile spread over the sun-warmed curls. “We’ll have more then.”

A heartbeat stretched between them, then she wrapped her arms around his waist. “One thing I need if I’m to stay here though.”

“Anything.” Breakfast in bed. Late-night cowgirl rides. His balls tightened .

She tilted her face up to meet his gaze. And he couldn’t help himself. He hooked a finger under her chin and drew her mouth to his. The crush of lips was sweet, filled with promise and an underlying thread of passion.

When she pulled away, she gave him another smile to add to his horde. “I come as a package deal, Christian. If I stay here on the ranch with you, so does Aunt Letty.”

* * * * *

“That coyote has one of the chickens!” Claire shrieked. Reddish brown feathers were scattered over the grass, and the squawking raised the hair all over Claire’s body.

“Get behind me. Where?” Christian jerked a rifle to his shoulder just as she skittered behind him. The predator was out of sight, so he started stalking forward.

A curdling squeal from the chicken ended abruptly as its life was obviously snuffed out.

“Goddamn it.” He fired a shot.

She plastered herself against his back, trembling slightly. A slight pause, then Christian swung the weapon downward and reached behind him, grasping at Claire’s side.

“Got away.”

“It’s my fault,” she whispered.

At that, he turned. “How can it be your fault? You put that hen in the coyote’s jaws?”

“I didn’t put the chickens away early enough.” She’d been lagging with this evening’s chores, her body exhausted but her mind on other things—like on Christian’s muscled chest and soul-shattering kisses.

The click of the safety sounded, then Christian leaned the rifle against the coop. Gathering her into his arms, he nestled her against that chest she ached to feel moving over her. “Not your fault. Now come on inside and I’ll make you a mean grilled cheese while you clean up.”

She shook her head. “I’ll go home tonight. I need to talk with Letty about this decision. I know she’ll want to be wherever I am, but it might unnerve her to uproot herself from her comfortable house. She’s not young, you know.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of Claire’s mouth, maddeningly close. So close that her mouth watered and her pussy pulsated. A hum of want issued from her chest unbidden.

With a swift movement, he plucked her off her feet and pinned her against the rough wood of the coop.

Heat lashed at her insides. His musky scent captured her, sucked her in. He ground his lower body against hers—thighs and denim and a thick erection. Her panties grew wet and she wished she hadn’t changed out of her uniform into jeans. Her dress would be easier access.

Christian wasn’t about to let that stop him. He gripped her thighs and hitched her upward, pressing her legs around his waist. She clung to him, rocking her aching pussy against the steel of his shaft.

When he kissed her, he scraped his rough facial hair over her sensitive skin, raising prickles of awareness. Every nerve in her body was attuned to him—his scent, taste, feel.

And God, was he a looker. Especially when he gave her that blazing, I’m-going-to-fuck-you-against-this-wall stare.

She moaned .

The barn wood covering the building at her back snagged at her shirt, heightening her experience. Suddenly she wanted to know those rough edges on her skin while Christian assaulted her from the front.

He slipped his palms under her ass and squeezed. “Give me your tongue.”

She opened for him, and he sucked her in. Drew on her until she bucked wildly.

He tore his mouth away, panting hard. “Jeezus, sweetheart.”

Fumbling between them, she located his button and zipper. When she eased his throbbing length from his clothing, his eyes dilated. Remnants of daylight faded, leaving only purple shadows and the hot rasp of his breath.

“Not here,” she said, squeezing the tip of his cock lightly. Juices oozed over her fingers.

He dragged her away from the coop to the solid barn ten paces away. “Here. I can’t wait another minute for you.”

“Mmm.”

“Hell, yes,” he grated out. He let her slide down his body slowly, allowing her to feel every straining inch of him.

The instant her feet hit the ground, he attacked her clothing, reaching under her hem, locating her bra hooks and popping them.

She stripped off her shirt and took the bra with it, throwing them to the ground.

Her jeans were no match for his adept fingers, which navigated her body like the most experienced lover. Though they’d only been alone together once, he knew the places to touch that drove her to the brink of insanity.

Sweet heat pulsated in her core. The view of his bobbing erection filled her with wanting as strong as any she’d known with Tucker.

The realization took her breath away.

She threw herself into kissing Christian, raking her fingers over his broad shoulders and delivering open-mouthed sweeps that made him groan. When he shoved her jeans and panties down her hips, she toed off her boots and stepped out of the cloth.

He dropped his own jeans to his ankles. His T-shirt clung to his skin, but he peeled it away too. A whiff of his personal musk and hard work fueled her need. With shaking hands, he fumbled with a condom .

As he stared at her, electricity snapped between them. His chest worked as if he’d just run a mile after an escaped horse.

Slowly, she flattened her palms on his broad chest.

In a violent motion, he lifted her and speared her on his rubber-covered cock. She cried out as the thick tip parted her inner walls and channeled directly to the spot that would flay every last nerve.

She clutched at his shoulders, riding him, levered by his strong arms and her own want.

“Christ, sweetheart. You’re. So. Damn. Tight.”

Twisting to find his mouth, she kissed him wildly. Tasting. Giving, taking. In the recesses of her mind, she was aware of the sharp chafe of the wood against her back and the low clucking of chickens scattered around them. Her breathing grew labored as her release pounded her body.

Crying out, she gripped Christian hard. “Come with me,” she whimpered.

He did, back muscles rigid as he poured himself into her. The heated waves slammed her, towed her under, raked her flat .

She gained her senses to find him completely lucid, eyes shining with joy.

Dipping his head, he claimed her mouth in a sweet and tender kiss.

The light crush of his lips undid her more than the tempest of their fuck against the barn.

She closed her eyes and held in the droplets that threatened to spill.

Tears for the loss of her heart, which was already in a state of agony at Tucker’s loss.

Still, she handed over the cracked organ to Christian. As he plundered her mouth in the gentlest of kisses, she hoped to God it would be safe.

* * * * *

Tucker slid onto the barstool and braced his elbows on the wood bar. Something sticky caught at the fibers of his denim shirt, and he pulled back with a grimace.

“What’ll ya have, cowboy?”

“Gimme what’s on tap.” He didn’t care how his beer tasted. He just wanted to pour some down his throat and slow the crazy carousel of thoughts .