It didn’t matter he had participated in mating horses many times before, something about watching the event with Tamara had taken away the clinical aspect, making it a sensual experience. He’d come very close to ripping and clawing the clothes from her body, releasing his dick, and slamming it into the warm haven of her pussy. Breathing in the musky scent of her arousal had driven away all higher thought processes. She’d smelled sweet and ripe, ready for his possession.
Dakota shook off his wandering thoughts and took a deep breath, allowing the aroma of the ranch and horses to clear his head. He had too much work to accomplish to become so distracted.
The rest of the day flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Although he felt an underlying tension with the cowboys since the mating, the men remained upbeat over their success. The same procedure would take place daily to provide the highest chance of Honey catching while the mare remained in season. Then she would be separated from the other horses during the term of her gestation to avoid injury.
All in all, Dakota was happy with the way things were going. He felt sure the Blacks would be pleased to hear about his progress when they returned from their honeymoon. And Tamara certainly showed signs of being receptive to him, no matter how hard she fought to maintain her distance.
When they all went over to the main house for dinner, the cowboys crowded in close to Tamara, leaving Dakota no choice except sit next to Steph. Neither Riley nor Tamara appeared very happy with this arrangement, yet the meal progressed with lots of happy chatter.
As had become his habit, Dakota assisted with clearing the table after the meal. Because of this, Millie always saved an extra serving of dessert in the kitchen for him. He’d begun to chew a large mouthful of the scrumptious apple pie when Jesse approached him.
“We’re headed back to the bunkhouse for a few hands of poker. Care to join us?” he asked with a casual air of indifference.
Although apprehensive of the seeming innocence of the invitation, he accepted. No sooner was Jesse out of earshot before Millie spoke what Dakota was already thinking.
“Watch out for those boys. I can tell they’ve been plottin’. You’ll be lucky to walk away with the shirt still on your back,” she said with a chuckle.
Tipping his hat to the older woman, Dakota said, “Yes, ma’am. I know they intend to clean out my wallet.” He flashed a wicked grin. “What those boys don’t know is that my daddy was a traveling card shark for a time. I just may have a few tricks up my sleeve they’ve never seen before.”
Millie’s riotous laughter followed him out of the house. He hadn’t seen either Tamara or Steph since dinner. Both women had high-tailed it out of there as soon as the meal was over. It was apparent everyone had sensed the cowboys scheming and chose to get out while the gettin’ was good.
By the time he entered the bunkhouse the men were gathered around the scarred wooden table, each with a longneck beer. They had a fresh deck of cards, seal as yet unbroken, ready to go. Taking the last available seat, he nodded to each man. “What’s the game?”
With a wide grin displaying a perfect set of white teeth, Jesse responded, “Texas hold ‘em.”
Well, this was certainly going to be interesting. “Ante and max?”
“Two dollar ante, no single bets over fifty,” replied Brock, making eye contact with each of the men in turn to make sure they understood the rules.
“You in?” Riley asked.
After nodding, Dakota schooled his features and settled in for what would most likely be a long night. He accepted the beer handed to him by Zeke, keeping a close watch as Riley broke the seal on the deck of cards and began shuffling. After each of them anted up, Riley dealt the cards and they began to play.
It didn’t take long to assess each man’s ability, find his weaknesses, and learn his tells. They all had certain verbal or physical cues to give away what cards they were holding. Dakota knew he was being tested and measured. Even though he kept a close eye on the cards, it took three hands to figure out the real game and ferret out how they were cheating.
At first he considered letting it go because their slight of hand wasn’t helping them win anyway, but he wanted the boys to know they were caught. He watched as Jesse slid a card beneath the table, passing it to Brock.
“Must be a good card?”
Everyone grew silent and still. He found their attempt at innocent expressions laughable.
“Might want to get some tarnish remover from the barn for those halos, boys. They’re looking a bit…rusty.” Unable to hold back any longer, Dakota threw back his head and laughed. “Riley, you gave Jesse an ace during the first hand and Brock passed you two cards in the next round. I do like the little hand signals you’re using, although I thought Jesse was picking his nose at one point.”
“You’re accusing us of cheating?” Zeke questioned. The other guys all stood up slow and easy, making Dakota think of a cheesy old western movie where the cowboys all held their hands over the six-shooters strapped around their hips.
“No. It’s not really cheating because you’re still losing anyway.” Each man gave their meanest scowl, which only served to make Dakota laugh harder. “Come on, guys. You can’t fool me. I grew up around world class card players. Forget the games and let’s get down to playing some real poker.”
He was happily surprised the cowboys took it with good nature and began ribbing each other over how bad they were at cheating. Teasing jaunts like “My grandma plays poker better than you,” were grumbled and laughed over. Dakota took the time to teach the men some, not all, of their tells once they settled into the game.
By the end of the evening the others were all moaning and groaning over how he’d managed to bilk them of almost a week’s pay each. It’d be a cold day in hell before they invited him to play poker again, Dakota thought, suppressing a chuckle. Still, he was happy with the way things turned out. The other men seemed much more relaxed around him than they had been.
Heading out to check on the horses after the men had called quits to the game, Dakota took in large breaths of the fresh evening air. Being cooped up in the bunkhouse for several hours had left him with a huge need to spend some time outside.
He smiled as he thought about the shocked looks passed among the cowboys with the first hand he’d won. Those looks had turned incredulous as he continued to beat the pants off them with each hand dealt. On occasion, he had let one of the other men win so it didn’t look like a total trouncing. He had to leave them some shred of pride.
Leaning against the door to Honey’s stall, he rubbed the sweet spot behind the mare’s ears, his thoughts focused on the area where he’d set up a private camp in the mountains. Every place he’d ever lived, he always had a special place allowing him escape to be by himself.
Already he had a pretty decent site set up out there in a hidden canyon with a stream running through it. By letting go and allowing his spirit to guide him, Dakota had made his way through the narrow crevice to find an absolute paradise. The valley was surrounded by rocky mountain terrain on all sides, keeping it very secluded.
He was most pleased with the discovery of a natural hot spring. It bubbled up between some rocks at the southernmost end of the area, creating a hot tub of sorts. And a natural crevice in the rock created the perfect sleeping-living area. He had arranged a fire ring for cooking, and even sampled the delicious trout from the stream during his free time when not working.
It was important to him to have a place to go and reconnect with his spirit. There was something about being alone in the wilderness that always brought him closer to the Great Spirit and the four elements—earth, wind, fire, and water. He went into the wilderness to seek truth, answers, renewal, and to learn about himself.
This was part of his heritage he’d learned from his grandparents. Being a “half breed”, Dakota had faced a lot of prejudice growing up from white kids in school. Because of this, he had preferred to spend his time in the mountains with his family. The Native Ameri
can community had been much more accepting of him.
His white father and Indian mother had taught him the best of both worlds. From their example, he learned to judge people by what was in their hearts, spirit and intentions while overlooking the color of their skin.
In the mountains of Colorado, he had learned acceptance, love, and a how to maintain a gentle spirit. His education had brought together the best of both cultures, along with old ways and new. Both his parent’s families had come together, melding into their own diverse community. He’d attended regular school classes, as well as learning from his combined relations. While he missed being there with his family, Dakota knew his future lay elsewhere. Maybe right here in a different set of mountains on a ranch in Montana.
Thinking about his camp made him itch to head off into those majestic mountains, but now was not the time. He had a responsibility to the Blacks, and to the gentle spirited horse rubbing her face against his chest.
After checking on each animal, he started back across the yard toward the bunkhouse, yet something pulled him in another direction. Trusting his instincts, Dakota followed the moonlight on a path bringing him behind the main buildings of the ranch. He sensed a troubled, melancholy feeling on the gentle breath of the wind as it teased his unbound hair.
The fierce cry from a bird of prey pierced the night as it sailed from the heavens to snatch up a small field mouse who had dared to run across the clearing. His spirit flew with the bird soaring high into the heavens. He sent a prayer to the Great Spirit on the wings of the courageous, wise creature. Watching the bird helped to settle some of the unease he was feeling.
Dakota sensed the presence of his princess long before seeing her. It only took a moment for him to determine she was the source of the dark emotions he’d read on the wind.
Moving around a copse of fir trees, his breath caught in his throat at the first sight of her. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, she took on an ethereal glow where she sat on the back porch of her cabin in a rocking chair. Her knees were pulled up against her chest, arms hugging her legs close. She had her neck extended, chin resting on the curve of one knee.
She appeared so small and lost. With everything he was, Dakota longed to go to his princess, wrap her in his embrace and provide shelter.
Sheltering her is not the way to help, spoke the ancient voice in his mind. She must find her connection to the spirit and elemental worlds. While you can set her feet on the path, she must make the journey alone.
Dakota stood like a ghost among the trees, heart breaking for his spirit mate. The wind stopped blowing and the sharp cry of the eagle again pierced the night. An image of Tamara standing in the canyon, screaming out her overpowering emotions, flashed through his mind. It became clear what he must do, how his plans must be changed. Looking to the heavens, he said a silent thank you.
Tamara needed to heal her spirit and would be able to do so with his help, but not with all the distractions of the ranch. He would have to take her up into the mountains. There she would be able to work through her worldly problems, heal and watch her spirit transcend the hurt and pain keeping her from living a whole life. Then she would be a whole woman, a complete spirit mate.
Getting her there would not be easy, and it would have to wait until he was finished breeding Honey. It would give him a few days to take some more provisions up to the camp and get it ready for his princess.
A burst of excited energy exploded within him, sending his spirit soaring with the wise eagle. This had to work. He wouldn’t go much longer before claiming the mate he’d waited so long to find.
“Who’s there?” Tamara called out, with a slight squeak to her voice.
Damn! In his excitement, Dakota must have alerted her to his presence. Although he could move across the land as silent as the wind, he now made a point of stepping on a twig and rattling a few branches before revealing himself. “It’s just me, princess.”
By the time he emerged from behind the trees, Tamara was sitting up with a rigid posture and the lost look long gone from her beautiful face.
“What the hell are you doing skulking around in the dark again, Blackhawk?”
The very sight of her stirred up an animalistic need to bind her to him, to brand her as his own. The fire in her eyes reached out, grabbing hold of his cock, bringing it to life. He needed her with a desperation bordering on pain, but must remain patient.
“Just taking a walk. It’s a beautiful night.”
A shiver ran through her as Tamara set her bare feet down on the wooden porch floor. The idea of the numerous creatures which might be slithering or scurrying around unseen in the dark was almost enough to drive her back inside the safety of the cabin. With grim determination, she straightened her spine, standing tall as she walked the short distance to where the object of her desire stood.
It bewildered her how she had been sitting there thinking about Dakota and he materialized out of the darkness as though summoned by her mind. Yeah right! She came close to bursting out laughing. Drawing him to her with her thoughts? Now that would be something truly spectacular. She needed him, visualized him, and he appeared. How flippin’ convenient.
If only he were able to slake the thirst ravaging her body. What an amazing feat it would be. Since Dakota’s arrival at the ranch, she no longer desired the attention of her cowboys. They didn’t do it for her anymore. All she wanted now was to capture the attention of the gentle warrior who suddenly held her world balanced in the palm of his capable hand.
Maybe if she were able to get away from him for more than five minutes at a time, she would get over whatever this weird attraction was, but he was always there whenever she turned around. Being on the ranch kept them in close quarters where there was no way to put any distance between them.
She wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab him, try to sate the hungers he stirred within her. Damn, she was so messed up and confused, vacillating between the emotional need for space and the physical needs of her body.
Her physical needs won—hands down. She didn’t even want to consider any emotional needs.
When she reached him, Tamara trailed manicured burgundy fingernails down his hard chest. The light contact had bolts of electrical energy surging up her arm and zinging through her from head to toe. Maybe if she got him inside the cabin…
“It’s awful late to be out walking around in the dark. Would you like to come inside for a nightcap?”
Dakota’s already dark eyes turned pitch black as her fingers continued on their slow path along his torso. When she reached the waistband of his pants, he grabbed her wrist, halting any further movement.
“I don’t think that would be the best idea,” he ground out. His jaw was clenched tight and a vein pulsed in his forehead. Good, he felt it too.
She thought it was a fabulous idea. Time to turn up the heat.
Bringing on the charm, Tamara leaned into the warmth of his big body, snaking her free hand around his back. Leaning closer, her skin sucked up the heat rolling off him like a sponge. At the feel of his hard erection nestling into her abdomen, she moaned. Tilting her head back, she looked up the long, tantalizing length of him.
God, he looked so damn sexy with his hair loose. She’d wanted to run her fingers through the shiny blue-black locks since the first time she’d run into him. Giving in to the temptation, Tamara wiggled her wrist free and leaned into him for support as she stretched up onto her toes.
“Oh, yes.” She actually purred, while threading her fingers through the cool, silky strands. Using her nails, she gave his scalp a massage while letting his soft hair tease the sensitive skin between her fingers.
Dakota’s deep moan only served to spur her on. He trailed both hands over her sides and onto her lower back, pulling her even closer against him. By flexing her calves, Tamara rubbed against the glorious length of his erection while trailing her fingers down to his nape. Gazing up at his firm, full lips, she found herself wondering how he would taste. She
longed to feel the texture of his lips moving over her own, to delve her tongue into the warm cavern of his mouth.
As if sharing her need, he began to lower his head, maintaining eye contact the whole time. He paused for a moment when their lips were mere inches apart, making her groan in frustration.
Quick to close the distance separating them, Dakota at last brought their lips together in the softest, sweetest kiss Tamara had ever known. With her fingers clasped behind his neck, standing on tiptoes, she struggled to increase the pressure of their kiss.
Moving his hands to her hips, he lifted her closer with little effort, molding their bodies together into one seamless form. Her breasts flattened out against the solid wall of his chest, and his cock settled in against her swollen cunt. Without her even realizing it was happening, she lifted her legs, wrapping them around his lean waist and pressing her heels into his firm ass. His hands were now free to slide over her subtle curves and cup her ass cheeks, devilish fingers kneading the firm globes as the whole time he ground his cock back and forth against her clit.
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