Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs #3)

by Stacey Kennedy

  By the time Megan rose from the patio table, gathering up all the dishes, the sun was dropping lower over the mountains. A soft pinkish hue settled over the sky. With Emma and Shep on the other side of the picnic table, Nash spun around on the bench, facing out, staring after her, even though he knew he should get up and help.

  I love you.

  Megan had said those words to him. Yeah, she had said other words today as well, voicing her frustration with the issue with her father. But those words didn’t matter to Nash anymore. Those three big words mattered a lot. He had given up on thinking about Clint for the day, instead circling back to beautiful Megan.

  Sitting on the picnic bench, Nash leaned against his arms on the top of the table, staring at the back window of the house. Megan had started to wash the dishes. Her hair curtained her face, her mouth moving to the music she was obviously listening to on the radio in the kitchen.

  No matter what, Nash needed to make things right with her. Right now, everything felt wrong. Somewhere along the line, he had changed, becoming a different man than before Megan was pregnant. He hadn’t looked to the future. Therefore, he had all the time to wait for her. Now he had to think about it.

  Still, his next steps needed to be handled with care. And for once in his life, he was not going to screw this up. Not with so much on the line. Nash had run for a long time to avoid a past he refused to face. Megan was not something he’d run from now. Clint could come later, but Megan would come first. Always.

  “We’re going to leave.” Nash glanced up at Emma as his new sister-in-law added, “Right, Shep?”

  “Why are we leaving?” Shep frowned.

  Emma glared at him. “Because we are. I need . . .” Her gaze flicked up to the sky before returning to her new husband. “I need groceries.”

  “No, we don’t.” Shep’s frown deepened.

  She smacked his arm. “Yes. We. Do.”

  Shep chuckled softly and rose. “Apparently, we need groceries. We’ll be back.”

  Emma smiled. “Not for a while, though.” She winked.

  “But I’ve—”

  Emma turned a death glare onto Shep. “I. Said. Not. For. A. While. Shep.”

  His brother sighed, then grumbled to Nash, “I’ll text in a bit and see if I can come back to my house.”

  Nash restrained his chuckle, and then he winked back at Emma. He was glad Shep found her. Hell, he was equally as happy for Chase and Harper. His brothers had found good women. Nash knew he’d found a good woman too.

  When Shep and Emma vanished around the corner of the house, Nash rose and entered through the back door and into the kitchen. He stopped and leaned against the doorframe, staring at Megan, while she swayed her hips to the music coming from the radio. Christ, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever. She wore a dress that in most circles would be considered modest. On her, nothing seemed modest. The fabric hugged her in all the right places, tempting him to rip it right off her.

  Nash silently watched her cleaning the dishes. He planned to help . . . just not now. He noticed the way she began washing the dishes slower, obviously not paying attention to what she was doing anymore. Oh, yeah, she knew he was there.

  He started with the truth. “You’re going to be such an incredible mother.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide with surprise, then smiled.

  And just like that, his day got immensely better. He loved her smile. “You’re strong,” he told her, staying put for now. “You’re smart and protective.” It occurred to him this morning that she was going to be a fierce mama bear, and damn, did he like that. “Our child is lucky to have you as their mom.” He paused. “And I’m so damn lucky to have you in my life.”

  “We’re both the lucky ones here, Nash,” she said softly.

  He strode forward, needing to get closer. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, cradled her belly in his hands, and kissed his child there. “We are lucky. So very lucky.” She slid her fingers into his hair and he stayed there awhile, his forehead pressed to her tummy. When he finally rose, he planted his hands on either side of her, gripping the counter behind her. He stared intently, leaving her no room to look anywhere else but at him. “You love me.”

  Her eyes softened. Those eyes did strange things to his chest. Things he liked.

  “We’ve both known for years that I love you,” she finally said. “I think it’s about time we say it aloud.”

  He gripped the counter tight, afraid that if he didn’t, he’d kiss her and not stop. And things needed to be said. “About earlier—”

  “No, I don’t want to talk about that.” She shook her head, her pleading eyes clawing at his chest. “No more talking about my dad, or explaining anything. No apologizing or excuses. I want to be happy, Nash. That’s it.” She cupped his face, her hands damp with the sudsy water. “Let’s be happy. Okay? Our baby deserves that. Hell, we deserve that.”

  “You’re right.” He pressed his hand on her hip, pinning her there, and he closed the distance. “You do deserve to be happy.” She also deserved so much more. “You deserve everything, Megan.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, and somehow, even that didn’t feel close enough. “You deserve the world handed to you.” And at some point, they would need to talk further about that, but those conversations didn’t need to happen now.

  Wanting only to make her feel good, he dropped his chin as his gaze met hers, and that was when he understood the true meaning of failure. It wasn’t about being able to step into a ring again and last the eight seconds to prove he was a man. His true failure lay in disappointing Megan, watching her lose hope in the love she should have, and having her loving him in the right ways while he loved her all wrong.

  When he blazed a hot kiss across her mouth, causing her to step closer, pressing her breasts into him, it occurred to him that Shep was right. Nash did have all the answers. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Right now, he needed to make his woman happy. The rest would come later.

  Their tongues danced together, and Nash ate up every single delicious moan she gave to him. Needing more of her, he slid his hand up her inner thigh, pulling up her dress as he went.

  She grabbed his wrist and exclaimed, “We’re at Emma’s!”

  “They’re gone. We’ve got the house to ourselves.” She slowly let go of his hand, and he slid his fingers between her thighs, finding her hot and wet. “You are so fucking perfect, Freckles.” He nuzzled her neck and pressed his hard length against her thigh, feeling the shudder rock through her.

  “Nash,” she breathed, her head falling back.

  He reached up and pulled her dress down, exposing her taut nipples. He sucked on one, then the other, hearing her moans get a little louder . . . a little more intense, while he removed her panties.

  That wasn’t good enough. He wanted her desperate. Maybe as desperate as he felt right now. Leaving her there, he moved to the fridge and took an ice cube out of the freezer and popped it into his mouth.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, voice husky, her breasts out, more gorgeous than ever.

  He returned to her and gripped her hip, keeping her steady. “Driving you wild like you drive me wild.” He slid his cold lips across her nipple.

  She gasped, grabbing onto his head. “Oh, God.”

  He slowly looked up at her and sucked on the ice cube, then dropped it into his hand. “Tell me you don’t want this, and we stop. Or let go.” He watched the heat rush over her face then spread down to her chest.

  She lifted her chin. “What if I do neither of those things?”

  “I’ll make sure you can’t stop me again.” He grinned.

  With the strength and playfulness that had always made him notice her, she smiled sensually and pressed her hand against his chest, moving him away.

  Yeah, she liked this play as much as he did. Though he’d never quite seen her this turned on. Maybe she wanted to get caught. Even wanted to push him to see what he’d do. Didn’t matter.
He was sure as hell willing to play this game to drive her out of her mind like she drove him out of his. He popped the ice cube back into his mouth then reached for her dress and had it over her head and around her arms. His skills with rope often came in handy during sex but never more so than now. He spun the thin fabric and tied a knot around the kitchen cabinet handle, leaving her arms bound behind her back.

  Without waiting, he mirrored her playful grin then returned his mouth to her nipple. He dragged his lips across her once, then he placed the ice cube between his teeth and slid the coldness across one nipple. She hissed and arched her back. Liking that reaction, he moved onto the other nipple before sliding the ice cube down her chest, over her round belly, to the top of her pubic line where he went down on one knee. He dropped the ice cube into his hands, licking his cold tongue against her clit.

  She tilted her head back and moaned deeply. And fuck, he could watch her for hours. He licked again and again, circling her clit, flicking the bud until he had her squirming. Every time his tongue warmed, he sucked on the ice cube to keep the coolness driving her crazy. She groaned and rose on her tiptoes. He played like that until he saw the bunching of her jaw, the effect of the chill. Then he tossed the ice cube into the sink behind her and slid his finger up inside her, pumping hard and fast, getting her where she needed to go.

  Her breath hitched once.

  She froze.

  Then she came beautifully against his mouth with hard shudders and breathy moans.

  When she finally looked down at him with hooded eyelids and an open mouth drawing in deep breaths, he needed her in ways he had never needed anyone or anything in his life. He had his Levi’s open and to his ankles before his next breath. Once his boxer briefs followed, he grabbed her hips and entered her. Her rough moan undid him.

  He thrust with long, slow movements, feeling every silky wet and warm inch accepting him. Needing to be closer yet, he cupped her nape, pinning her to him. He liked her like this. Not running away. Simply taking all of him, while he took of all her.

  Her lust-filled moans brushed against his ear, and her scent overwhelmed him as he began to thrust harder and faster, taking them both higher. In that pureness, that sweet moment she gave to him every time he touched her, his mind cleared. He’d created a boundary she couldn’t ever cross because he’d never let her. She gave all of herself. There, she was bound for whatever he wanted. Open. Free. Desperate for him. He owed her the same vulnerability.

  The pleasure quickly spun wildly out of control, her body squeezing and soaking as his cock thrust inside her. Her hitching breath and harsh gasps took him right over the edge with her. Because there was no doubt any longer.

  She gave his life meaning.

  And like she said, it was about time he started saying it aloud.

  Chapter 17

  Nash had been awake since the crack of dawn the following day, waiting to make the twenty-minute drive across town to deal with Clint. For an hour, Nash lay in bed next to Megan, watching her sleep, the moonlight cascading across her face. She was on her back, one arm slung over her head, the other hand on the belly that was getting rounder every time he looked. He wondered if she knew she slept like that. He slid his hand beneath hers, touching Megan and his child. His child. Christ, he was lucky. Since his accident, he’d struggled to find purpose or any sort of meaning in his life. He hated his injury. He cursed fate for stealing away his dreams. And yet now he knew he would have walked away from it all for her. For this. For this life she’d given him.

  When Megan finally opened her eyes, she smiled, reaching depths in Nash’s heart that had never been reached before. For all that he thought he’d lost up until this point in his life, he realized he’d needed to lose it all, so he could gain everything that mattered.

  And Megan mattered. Did she ever.

  On his side, his head resting on one hand, he stroked her belly. “I have to leave for the ranch soon.”

  She placed her hand on top of his. “Already?”

  He nodded.

  She reached for his hand and slid it up until he cupped her breast with an already taut nipple. “Anything I can do to change your mind?” she purred.

  Heat flooded his groin, hardening him, and taking all his sweet thoughts and turning them dirty. “You just did.”

  He slid in behind her, keeping his hand on her breast. She shifted more onto her side, rested her top leg over his, and he entered her, finding her wet and ready. After that, there was only pleasure, until he satisfied his woman.

  Thirty minutes later, he returned from a hot shower to find that Megan had fallen back asleep with Gus sleeping next to her and the cats in the basket by the bed. Nash leaned against the doorframe and smiled. His family.

  With a long sigh, knowing what came next wasn’t going to be enjoyable, he gave a soft whistle.

  Gus jumped off the bed and followed Nash outside. They hit the road a second later. The trees were a blur by his windshield, and the gloomy day wasn’t helping his mood.

  When he finally drove through the Irish Creek Ranch gates, it came as no surprise that even before Nash could exit his truck, the Irish Creek cowboys were already taking steps toward him. He didn’t fault any of them for that. Hell, he respected their loyalty to their boss, even if Nash despised who they were loyal to.

  Nash paid them no attention and stepped out of the truck, and Gus followed him out. He headed straight for the door and knocked. When it opened, Loretta smiled at him. “Oh, Nash. This is a surprise.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Harrison.”

  Her smile brightened, opening the door a little wider. “I think it’s time you call me Loretta, don’t you?”

  “If that’s what you’d like.”

  She nodded. “That’s what I’d like.” She moved aside then and allowed him to enter. “Now what can I do for you?”

  Nash glanced back to see Gus taking off toward the cowboys, who began petting him. Knowing Gus would be fine, Nash entered the house. “I’d like to speak with your husband if that’s all right.”

  Loretta paused to study Nash, her warm eyes regarding him intently. “Do I need to worry?”

  “No, ma’am,” Nash said gently. “You’ve got nothing to worry about from me.”

  She gave him another long look then nodded firmly. “All right.” She shut the door then waved him forward. “Clint’s in his office.”

  Nash removed his boots, again finding the home to be warm and rustic and extravagant. Everything in this space suited Clint, except the warm part. That was all Loretta. And Nash fully believed it was Megan’s mother that insured Megan never saw any of Clint’s coldness. When business was done, office doors were closed.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” Loretta asked, leading Nash down the hallway.

  “No, thank you, ma’am.” Nash didn’t intend to stay long.

  She stopped at the closed office door, only firming up Nash’s assumption, then knocked. Clint called from the other side, “Come in.”

  The moment Loretta opened the door, Nash restrained his snort. Clint sat behind his grand wooden desk surrounded by his kills from trophy hunting, like a king. Harrison was speaking on the phone, staring out the window, but his eyes soon narrowed on Nash. “I need to go. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

  Loretta crossed her arms and frowned. “Nash said I have nothing to worry about. What do you say?”

  Clint grunted and gestured her out with a flick of his chin.

  Loretta smiled at Nash. “I suppose that’s the best I’ll get.” She placed her hand on his forearm. “Go on and have a seat. I’ll make us some coffee, in case you change your mind.”

  Nash didn’t want coffee. He intended to say what he needed to say and get out. But Loretta was sweet and kind. Nash smiled and nodded at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She gave Clint another hard look before she let herself out and shut the door behind her.

  Thick silence spread out in the ro
om, making the air feel heavy and charged with challenging testosterone. Anytime before this, Nash would’ve already lashed out, all in his need to prove he was better than the man sitting behind the desk.

  Things had changed.

  “You know,” Nash began, staring at Clint intently, “for as long as I could remember, I’ve hated you.”

  “The feeling is mutual, kid,” Clint muttered.

  Nash let that comment roll right off his back, seeing Clint with new eyes. “Megan had me believing for a little while that I was being unjust to hate you. That the feud between our families was created by you and my father and had no merit.”

  Clint leaned back in his expensive leather chair and folded his arms. “Your point?”

  “She’s got it all wrong,” Nash said firmly. “You’re a sonuvabitch. Plain and simple.” Clint’s eyes darkened, as Nash knew his own eyes did whenever someone dared speak anything but high praise for his family. “And you know why I know that?”

  “I don’t particularly care.” Clint snorted.

  “Oh, I think you might care about this,” Nash mused, moving closer to the bastard who had tried so damn hard to ruin the Blackshaw name. He stepped forward behind the client chair and gripped the smooth wood. “Yesterday, the police arrested Butch.”

  Clint’s expression remained emotionless except for the slight tightening around the corners of his eyes. “Which matters to me because. . . . ?”

  Nash strode around the chair, inhaling the natural wood aroma in the space. He pressed his hands against the desk, bringing his eyes level to Clint’s. “No more games, Harrison. It all ends now.”

  A dark smile crossed Clint’s face before he rose from his seat, moving to stare out the window. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, boy.”

  Sure, Nash didn’t have any proof of Clint’s involvement, but he didn’t need any. One look into Clint’s cold, dead eyes, and Nash knew. “I know you’re paying for Butch’s wife’s cancer treatments and that’s the reason he set out to sabotage the ranch,” Nash said, tossing his theory out there. “Whether you knew what Butch’s plans were with the fire and the drugging of the guests or Butch acted drastically in fear you’d stop helping his wife is up for debate, but he wouldn’t have done those things if you hadn’t wanted the ranch shut down.”