by J. M. Madden
His hips smacked against hers and he released the hold he had on himself. With a mighty roar, he came, his body draining into hers.
It took a long time for the aftershocks to still. Her body rippled for a solid minute and every time she did, his over-sensitized cock quivered.
"I think you're trying to kill me," he said finally.
Payton giggled and squeezed her internal muscles. Brock gasped and arched into her, though he was going flaccid.
"I think you could make me come just by doing that," he told her softly.
"We might have to try that, then."
She crawled out from beneath his weight, her ass looking pink and delectable. "Come shower with me, Brock."
It took a lot of energy, but he wasn't going to miss that invitation. Pushing from the bed, he followed along after her.
* * *
They made love several times that night, until they were both too sore to move. In the wee hours of the morning, they got up and raided her fridge, looking for food. Payton turned on the griddle and made them grilled cheeses.
If she could've envisioned the way the night would go, this was definitely not it. Brock turned into a more than solicitous lover, ensuring her needs were met first every single time. Payton could never have imagined what a wonderful lover he turned out to be.
And everything she did, every movement she made, seemed to arouse him. It was a very flattering feeling, being the focus of this man's attention.
After the sandwiches, he helped her change the sheets on the bed and they curled up together. There was a naturalness to the way they made love and connected. So much so that Brock seemed taken aback.
She was very aware that he hadn't actually said the words she yearned to hear, but he had shown her in every other way that he loved her.
"I wanted to re-invite you to the potluck tomorrow," Brock whispered into the dark. "Or today, I guess. That was why I came over."
Calloused fingers brushed over her shoulders, tickling her skin. She lay on her front, her head turned to the side to watch him. "Of course, I'll go with you. Are you sure this time?"
He nodded once, running his fingers down the length of her spine to the crack of her ass. "Positive. The most important people in my life know about us. I don't care what anyone else says."
The sun was just beginning to lighten the room. They'd played and loved and slept all night, and they still couldn't quit touching each other. It was as if once they'd finally given in, they were all in. There was no hesitation, no restriction.
"I probably need to go back to the ranch for a while," he murmured eventually.
"Okay," she agreed. "And I guess I should do laundry. Or something. Figure out what I'm going to take to the potluck."
None of that held any interest. All she wanted was to bask in his presence, or fondle his body. Brock had given the most amazing little groan when she'd gone down on him earlier. She wanted to see what other sounds she could make him do.
Her own throat was raw from talking and orgasming all night, and her body throbbed even now.
"Maybe if we work for a while, we can run to the Oasis later to get refreshed."
He grinned at her, obviously loving the idea. "That sounds perfect."
So less than an hour later, they parted on her porch with kisses, then more final kisses. Brock physically had to force his legs to walk away. Payton shut the door behind him.
It was even harder to drive away from her. His body was absolutely drained. Literally, he doubted he could make love again right now. But he craved her touch. He'd never been with a woman who so obviously cared for him like she did or made him want to take care of her.
Brock went home to the main house and showered, changing his clothes. Grabbing a turkey and cheese sandwich for breakfast, he headed out to start his day.
Work was tedious in the extreme. There were a list of things that needed done, but he didn't feel like tackling anything on it. Brock worked a few two-year olds in the round pen, but couldn't concentrate on any of them long enough. He went into the wild barn and sat for a while, but apparently they could feel his tumultuous mood, because the mustangs stayed far away from him. Brock checked the time on his phone repeatedly. They had agreed to meet at one o'clock, which was hours away.
Was his need to be with her normal? Was this what it was like to be in love? He'd ask Jackson if he didn't think it would hurt the man's feelings.
Would it be too weird to ask his brother? Why not, actually. Chad was about to get married. He had to know what love felt like.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he sent Chad a message. He called back almost immediately.
Brock winced as he opened the line. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"
"Nah," Chad laughed. "I'm just debating what to eat for lunch. What's up, big brother?"
Brock didn't know how to go about asking what he needed to know. Best to just spit it out, he supposed. "How do you know if you're in love?"
The words sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth and he regretted calling instantly. Especially calling his little brother. "Never mind. I'll figure it out."
"Wait, wait," Chad called. "Are you talking in general? Or do you have someone specific in mind?"
Brock turned to lean against the fence. He thought he'd bared himself enough for now. "In general."
"Well," Chad sighed, sounding a little disappointed. "In general, you can't get enough of them. You love the way they talk, the things they talk about. They strike you as intelligent. You can see spending the rest of your life with them."
Uh oh.
"You count down the hours until you can see them again, and the sex isn't just sex anymore. It's making love."
Well, shit. He'd just listed every single thing Brock was feeling today.
"And love will make you second-guess yourself more than any other emotion. It will literally drive you insane if you let it."
Brock chuckled in spite of himself. "You’re not lyin'."
"But if you do it right," his little bro continued, "it can be the most amazing thing in the world. I never expected to find love. Especially not with my fucked up hand. You can't hide that. And the amputation. I knew it would take an incredible woman to accept all of me. And Lora has. Now, to be sure, we both have baggage, but nothing we can't deal with together."
They fell quiet for a moment.
"Does that sound like what you're feeling?"
"Yes. To a damn T."
Chad chuckled. "Then I wish you luck. Any chance I might know the girl?"
Brock pinched the bridge of his nose with his spare hand. In for a penny in for a pound. "Payton."
"Yes!" Chad hissed. "I thought so."
Brock frowned. Had everyone seen through them?
"You knew too?"
"Well, not exactly. Lora said something when we were there for the round up about what beautiful babies you and Payton would have together. I've been thinking about it ever since."
Well, fuck. That had just sent his brain in a completely different direction. Lora was right, though. They would have beautiful babies. Maybe way, way down the road.
He had so much to think about.
"Okay, I have to go. Thanks for answering my questions."
"Hey, Brock, don't go yet. I have something to ask you. I was going to call you later today, but you beat me to it."
Brock could hear Chad take a deep breath. He sighed, waiting for some smart-ass comment.
"I know we haven't always gotten along, but I appreciated our talk a couple weeks ago. Anyway, I wondered, would you be my best man at the wedding?"
The world stilled and Brock pulled the phone from his ear. Surely he hadn't heard that right. "What?"
"I said… would you be the best man at my wedding?"
Emotion gripped him by the throat and he looked out over the range, blinking the tears from his eyes. "What about your buddies down there?"
"Well, they're my friends, and they'll be in the wedding party,
but I only have one brother."
His nose clogged with snot as he tried to control his emotions. Never in a million years had he expected this. "Yes, I will, Chad. It will be my honor."
"Damn, dude, you had me worried for a minute there," his brother laughed. "I appreciate it. I really do. It's going to be a special day."
"It sure will."
It took Brock a long time to recover from that call. He stared out over the grassland and thought about their lives to this point. Even though he'd been a shit to Chad, they were still blood. He'd apologized for his behavior, but he hadn't thought Chad had forgiven him so completely.
Brock thought about the list of small, medium, and major chores he had yet to accomplish before the wedding. What exactly was a best man supposed to do anyway?
Chapter 17
Payton arrived at the swimming hole a few minutes after noon. Mineer settled into the outside paddock and started grazing immediately. She was almost an hour early, but she couldn't help herself. Maybe Brock would come early too.
This day had been chaotic. Well, her mind had been chaotic. Things were finally beginning to go her way. After years of mooning after the man, they'd finally made the connection. And physically, what a connection, boy howdy.
And emotionally, Brock seemed ... invested.
Over the years she'd seen him date other women, but she couldn't remember ever seeing him affectionate with any of them. At the time, she hadn't been hurt because he seemed to keep them at an emotional distance.
All of that had disappeared with her.
Her body began to hum just thinking about him. A few hours ago she couldn't have acted on any more urges, but now that she'd had a break and eaten and rested, she was ready to go again. He would be too when he got here.
She hurried to the path, backpack bouncing against her hip as she jogged down. There was a little lunch in the bag, with grapes and cheeses and crackers. They needed energy to recharge their bodies. Excited at the prospect, she grinned.
Payton didn't see the two men at the bottom of the hill until she was almost upon them. They looked up in surprise and she recognized them immediately. Ronnie Critman and Beau Green, the two men that had fought with Brock more than a week ago.
"What the hell are you guys doing here?"
At first they seemed a little spooked and on the defensive, until they realized she was alone. Ronnie grinned, circling her. "Oh, it's the little paramedic lady, Beau. Lookie here."
Reaching out, he fingered a section of her long hair. Payton refused to pull away and act scared, though she was. Her heart was racing, and she tried to plan an escape. What could she do?
There were a few small logs laying around, but nothing substantial enough to take out Green. Ronnie was a creep, but Beau was the muscle. Anything Ronnie wanted to do, Beau would implement. She still had her backpack on, but there wasn't much in it to use as a weapon either.
Brock would be along any time, assuming he hadn't gotten sidetracked. Stall!
"Why are you guys trespassing on the Blue Star?" she demanded.
"Oh," Ronnie said, acting all surprised and innocent. "We're not trespassing. We're jest lookin' around. Tryin' to figure out why you dammed all the water up."
Payton scowled, crossing her arms over her breasts. "They didn't dam any of the water up. The spring is still flowing. You can see for yourself."
She pointed at the pond overflow. It was still running, just like it always had, but it had been a while since they'd gotten rain. Everything was drying up a little bit.
"It's not flowing like it was before."
She smirked. "Well, of course not. We going on a month without rain. Everything is running slow right now."
Faster than a cobra, Ronnie reached out and smacked her in the mouth. Payton reeled back, almost losing her feet, but she deliberately staggered up the hill a little.
"Ronnie," Beau said, caution in his deep voice.
"You don't laugh at me, bitch." Ronnie stomped close to her and jerked her up by her T-shirt. "Just because I don't have all the schooling you do, it doesn't make you better."
"No," she agreed, spitting blood from her mouth. "The fact that I'm a law-abiding citizen that helps people, and doesn't look for short-cuts through life, makes me better."
Before he could smack her again, she shoved the backpack as hard as she could at him at him and knocked him down the hill and into Beau. Ronnie staggered, flung the bag away and raced up the hill after her. Payton knew before she crested it that he was going to catch her, so she scrambled on all fours. Just as she reached the peak of the hill, he grabbed one of her ankles.
She kicked out with the other foot, connecting to something. Snatching up a handful of dust and gravel, she hurled it into his eyes. He let go of her leg, but seemed even madder than before, hurling insults and threats.
She crested the hill and took off running, calling Mineer. The horse jerked his head up when he saw her and trotted toward her. She snatched one rein to her, but missed the second. Barely daring to pause, Payton grabbed his mane and swung herself up onto his bare back. She hurried him toward the gate. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to flip the latch, but she did it. As soon as she was clear, she kicked Mineer into a hard gallop.
Brock met her part way to the ranch a few minutes later. When he saw her split lip and the blood on her chin, anger took over his features. "What the hell?"
"Ronnie Critman and Beau," she gasped. "Not sure what they were doing but they were at the pond. ‘Investigating’ Ronnie said. He hit me then tried to keep me from leaving."
He urged his horse tight to Mineer's side and cupped her face. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "Just a little shook. Ronnie is bad business."
Brock was torn. He wanted to gallop to the pool and confront the men, but the odds weren't good. It was time to put a stop to whatever Ronnie was trying to do and they needed to have the law on their side. So, with a backward scowl, he escorted her back to the Blue Star.
Sheriff Sheridan Lane arrived within a couple of minutes, his big Sheriff's department truck gleaming in the sun. He'd been on his way out to the Blue Star already, wanting to talk to Sean about the prints he’d found when Mopey Dick had gotten out.
It was a fortuitous set of circumstances that allowed him to arrive at the Blue Star, get the story and head down the back access lane just in time to see the two men galloping away to the South on horseback. Brock had gone with him as support and seriously prayed that Ronnie would do something stupid. But the men reined up and acted as if they had no idea what had happened.
Caught in the act. Sheridan made them get off the horses and handcuffed them right there for the assault and trespassing.
Once he got the men cuffed and in the back seat of the truck, Brock took the horses. He waved Sheridan over. "Look at that."
On the ground were prints from the horses the two men had been riding. Ronnie's horse, a little paint, was barefoot. And Beau's horse, a tall bay, was missing one nail from the near side shoe.
"Let me get my camera," Sheridan said. He opened the diamond plate toolbox in the truck bed and grabbed a camera case. After snapping a dozen pictures from different angles, he loaded everything back into the truck.
"Brock, I hate to ask you, but do you mind bringing the horses back?"
With a laugh, Brock shook his head. "I can do that. You okay with these yahoos?"
Sheridan grinned, his bright teeth shining. "Yeah. They're within punching distance if they get out of line. My ears might be bleeding from Ronnie's caterwauling by the time I get back to town, but I'll survive."
So, Brock found himself mounted on the bay, turning the horses around and heading toward the Blue Star.
As soon as he was within sight of the ranch, Payton rode out to him on Mineer. "Are you okay?"
"We're fine. Caught them hauling ass toward the CNC ranch. Wanna know the best part?"
"What?" she grinned at him.
"This big bay," he patted the animal'
s dark neck, "leaves great prints, with his iron shoe with only seven nails holding it on."
Her eyes widened as she absorbed the implications. "No way," she said softly.
They rode back together, chatting back and forth as they tried to reason out why the CNC men had been on such a tear. Brock told her about Garrett's postulations.
Jackson illuminated the picture later when they arrived at the barn. "I was in Sophia's and heard a couple of men talking about picking up rangy CNC cattle for cheap, because they were having to haul water out to the herd. And about six months ago your dad was approached by old man Critman to see about selling water rights to the CNC. Garrett didn't, of course. And he never completely blocked the springs, but legally he could have."
"So, why drive the bull through the fence?" Payton asked.
"Well," Brock said thoughtfully. "If they ruined my breeding operation and we took enough of a financial beating, we could be forced to sell. We're so far in the black, though, it would take years to do that. There's no way we're selling."
Jackson nodded and leaned against the fence to watch the CNC horses in the paddock. Someone would have to come get them if they wanted them back.
Payton leaned into Brock's chest and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded, tonguing her lip. "I'm fine. Ronnie Critman is a typical Napoleon, and he hits like a twelve year old girl. I am going to have to ride out and make sure that gate's secure around the Oasis. I seriously doubt they took care of it. I also need to get my saddle."
She motioned at Mineer, standing patiently beside the barn with only a bridle on.
Brock looked at his phone when it buzzed. "Sheridan made it to town fine and the men are in lockup. I'll ride out with you. I need a break from all this craziness."
Holding his clasped hands at knee level for her, he helped Payton up onto Mineer's back.
Jackson waved them on and called after them as they headed down the lane, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Brock and Payton let the horses have their head as they turned toward the spring. Bravo and Mineer always had a bit of a competition going, so they got there pretty quick. As expected, the gate to the inside was standing wide open. Brock closed it behind them.
