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  The dark-haired cowboy lifted the ass in front of him higher, pulling apart the cheeks as his cock prodded the blond’s dark hole. One thrust of his hips and his dick disappeared completely.

  “Yes,” the blond hissed. “Harder.”

  “Damn. No matter how many times I do this to you, you’re always so fucking tight.”

  Macie focused on the blond circling his hands around the bound man’s ass, bringing that big, straining cock to his mouth and swallowing it in one greedy gulp.

  As the dark-haired man’s cock reamed the blond man’s asshole, each hard thrust sent the blond man’s mouth further down the length of the bound man’s cock, until his nose was buried in dark pubic hair. Then he’d release the cock slowly, and bring it fully back into his mouth, each hungry stroke increasing in speed and suction The scene looked as smooth as a choreographed dance. Like these cowboys had fucked each other well and often. The blond bobbed his head. Grunts burst from the bound cowboy as he began to pump his hips into the blond’s face.

  But the blond retreated and nuzzled the bound man’s quivering belly. “Do you want me to finish you?”

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  “You want to come in my mouth? In a man’s mouth?”

  “Yes, goddamn you, finish it.”

  With a loud slurp, the bound man’s distended cock was once again buried between the blond’s lips. Skin slapped skin. The sawhorse squeaked with the escalating thrusts.

  The musky odor of sweat and sex and dirt permeated the air.

  Macie was so worked up, she slid her hand down inside her underwear. She slicked up her finger with her own juices and frantically rubbed her swollen clit, aching for fast relief, sighing when the familiar throbbing began.

  The dark-haired man panted, “Shit, Dooce, I can’t hold back.”

  Dooce? Macie made a surprised noise. The dark-haired man looked over his shoulder briefly as he pounded his meat into Dooce’s ass like a man possessed. At that point she realized the dark-haired man was her ex-boyfriend, Dante.

  Dooce turned and glared at her. “What are you doing here? He doesn’t want you. No one wants you.”

  The bound cowboy finally looked up and his cowboy hat slid off his head.

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  Her heart stopped; the man was none other than Carter McKay.

  Their eyes met and he said hoarsely, “I want you, Macie, in ways no man ever has. I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

  She closed her eyes at the heat in his eyes and the perfection of his quiet declaration.

  She slumped against the chute, finding it soft as a pillow.

  A pillow?

  Macie’s eyes flew open. She sat straight up and looked around. She wasn’t in a darkened barn, but in a darkened camper.

  Dammit. It was another dream, a variation on the dream she’d been having the past two months. Except, it wasn’t really a dream since the scenario was very close to the real one she’d walked in on in Dante’s apartment. Dante on his knees, Dooce jacking off as Dante fucked Dooce’s ass like a madman. It’d been rough, and raw, and unbelievably hot. She’d stayed hidden in the shadows of the hallway, ashamed she’d gotten off at the sight of Dante’s sexual synchronicity with Dooce—a synchronicity she and Dante had never experienced.

  No wonder. She hadn’t been born with a penis.

  So why did her subconscious place Carter at that scene? Because he was an artist like Dante? Because she wondered if Carter was gay? The last two times she’d experienced this dream, she was the one tied up and forced to watch the two men fuck like animals.

  Was Carter’s presence because she was afraid the situation with him would turn out the same as every other past relationship —with her on the outside looking in?

  A therapist would have a field day with that one.

  She glanced at the clock. The red numbers flashed five a.m. No use going back to sleep now—the alarm would ring in another half hour anyway.

  Macie cleaned up, dressed, and braided her hair before she hopped in her SUV and navigated her way to work.

  Late yesterday afternoon, after she and her father finished their meal at the local diner, he’d sped off to Gemma’s ranch to set up the camper. She’d sensed he needed to be alone with his thoughts and to gauge his new responsibilities without her chattering at him. So she’d lingered in the booth, thinking of her best friend Kat, wondering how she’d managed to be a third wheel again. Then she noticed the “help wanted” sign by the cash register and asked the waitress about the opening.

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  Velma—the sixty-something owner of the Last Chance Diner—needed a gal Friday to fill in part-time as a cook and waitress. The hours were sporadic, but the pay was decent for rural Wyoming. With Macie’s experience in restaurants, Velma seemed genuinely happy to hire her on a simple handshake.

  Macie was glad her first day would be spent in the kitchen. Between the bizarre dream, and her father ignoring her, beating eggs and dicing veggies would be a productive way to channel her frustrations.

  Inside the restaurant, the rich scent of coffee caused her steps to quicken and she poured a mug before clocking in.

  Velma grinned. “Another caffeine addict, huh?”

  Macie grunted.

  “Well, I’ve already had four cups so I’ve shaken off the cobwebs and started the bacon.”

  “What time do we open?”

  “Six bells.” Velma dumped two packages of frozen hashbrowns on the griddle.

  “Most of the early customers are construction workers. They like a big breakfast in a hurry. So I always have a bunch of potatoes and meat done ahead of time.”

  “Good plan.” Macie donned an apron, lifted the metal press flattening the bacon to check on its doneness while downing her coffee. “Mostly egg specials?”

  “Yeah. Some with pancakes, most with toast. You have any problems making omelets?”

  “Nope. But I didn’t check to see if there’s anything fancy on the menu like eggs benedict.”

  Velma poured her another cup of coffee. “No. No huevos rancheros either, no matter how much Diaz begs me to add ’em.” She confided, “Don’t seem worth it since Diaz is the only Mexican around here. Though he threatens to bring his cousins up from Denver all the time.”

  “If he asks me, I might just surprise him and whip up a plate.” She added more oil to the sizzling potatoes. “Most folks assume I’m Mexican anyway.”

  “I didn’t want to be rude and ask, but are you?”

  Macie smiled. “No. I’m half Lakota Sioux.”

  “Oh. So the man with you last night? Is he your…”

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  “Dad. Cash Big Crow.”

  “He don’t look old enough to have a daughter your age.”

  She’d fielded this question often enough it was second nature to her. “He was sixteen when he knocked up my mom.”

  “I know how that goes. I had my first kid when I was seventeen.” She shrugged. “It happens. What’s your dad doing around here?”

  “He’s the new foreman for Gemma Jansen’s ranch.” Macie froze. Maybe that wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge.

  “’Bout damn time Gemma hired somebody decent. She’s been tryin’ to do it all since Steve died. Be workin’ herself into an early grave.” Velma seemed ready to settle in for a long chat. “Do you know Gemma very well?”

  “No. I just met her yesterday.”

  “Seems strange she didn’t offer you a job on the Bar 9.”

  “To tell you the truth, Velma, I’m not much interested in ranching. I’m just tagging along with Dad for the summer, but I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. I don’t want to be accused of being lazy.” Macie knew her father still struggled against that racial stereotype—of being nothing more than a lazy, freeloa
ding, boozing injun. An attitude she’d run into a time or two herself.

  Velma chuckled. “You ain’t been here for more than twenty-fours hours, and you’ve already got a job, so I think it’s safe to say you ain’t lazy.”

  “Thanks.” Macie flipped the hashbrowns. “Just so you know, I’d much rather be back here than out front.”

  “We’ll get along just fine, Miss Macie, ’cause I’ve had enough years of cookin’ over this hot griddle. I do believe there’s more grease in my veins than blood.”

  Macie laughed. “Must be why you look so young, Miz Velma.”

  Velma snapped a dishtowel at her on the way to unlock the front door. “Yes sirree.

  You and I are gonna get along just fine, squirt.”

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  Lorelei James

  Chapter Eight

  Gemma woke alone. She’d gotten used to it in the last three years, but she still experienced a pang of disappointment.

  Thank God Cash was conked out when she’d come to bed. But in her restless state she couldn’t sleep. When she’d quietly crept out to stare out the window, the tears started.

  Unwanted tears, both happy and sad, as she said goodbye to her past and hello to her future.

  An odd thought occurred to her. Cash hadn’t overheard her crying, had he?

  Pointless to worry about now. She rolled her lazy ass out of bed, realizing she’d overslept by a good hour. Did Cash think she acted the lady of the manor, lolling around between the sheets all day while he was out busting his ass?

  Places were sore on her body that hadn’t been sore in awhile, so she popped a couple of aspirin. She dressed in her usual attire of jeans, boots and a lightweight, long-sleeved cotton shirt to protect her skin from the blistering sun.

  Cash wasn’t in the kitchen. A single bowl and spoon rested in the dish rack beside the sink. No coffee was left warming; the pot was still sparkling clean. Well. Shoot. This wasn’t what she’d expected. Would’ve been nice to share a cup before heading out to feed the cattle.

  She stepped out onto the covered porch, shielding her eyes against the bright rays.

  Cash’s pickup wasn’t parked in front where he’d left it last night, and the ranch truck was in its usual spot. Then Gemma remembered Macie. After devoting last night to her, Cash was probably hanging out with his daughter.

  Gemma didn’t want to interfere, but she had a perverse need to make sure Cash was all right. He seemed a more contentious sort than to take off without telling her where he was going.

  Are you speaking as his lover? Or as his boss?

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  She ignored the voices in her head as her strides ate up the distance to the camper.

  She stopped between the outbuildings when she realized Macie’s vehicle wasn’t around either. What the heck?

  As she debated on what to do next, Carter came barreling around the corner of the barn, scaring her half to death.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  “Who? Macie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have no idea. Have you seen Cash?”

  “I saw him headin’ out to the west pasture with a load of hay in the back of his truck about an hour ago.”

  “By himself?”

  “I guess.”

  “Dammit, Carter. Why weren’t you with him?”

  His eyes narrowed and he countered, “Why weren’t you?”

  She should be beyond blushing at her age. Gemma sighed. “Evidently I overslept.

  Which means Cash is out there doing everything on his own.”

  “So let him. It is his responsibility now.”

  “That don’t make me feel any less guilty. This is my place. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to turn over full operations to someone else.”

  “You’d better at least try. What’s the point of hirin’ someone if you ain’t gonna let him do the work?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. She couldn’t think of a rational rebuttal.

  Tires thudded by the barn, sounding abnormally loud in the morning stillness. A drawn out squeak echoed as the gate was opened. An engine gunned and a screech bang followed.

  Gemma hustled toward the sound. Her stomach did a little flip at seeing Cash.

  He yelled, “Mornin’, Gem.”

  Cash’s smile died the second he saw Carter coming from the direction of Macie’s camper. His neutral expression became a frown when Carter demanded, “Where’s Macie?”

  “If she would’ve wanted you to know, McKay, she would’ve told you.”

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  “You ornery—”

  “Carter,” Gemma said sharply, “enough.”

  Cash said, “Maybe you oughta be doin’ your job instead of worryin’ ’bout my daughter.”

  “At least somebody is worried.” Carter snorted. “Did you see her last night? Or ignore her? I bet you don’t even know where she is.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do know where she is, and the chances of me tellin’ you just dropped to zero, boy.”

  Good God. This was ridiculous. “Look. I don’t have time for this stupid male posturing. Carter, what did you get done this morning while Cash was tending the livestock?”

  “I moved the horses into the south pasture. I sprayed down the stalls and refilled the flytraps. Then I prepped Daisy’s medicine. Didn’t know if you wanted me to give it to her or if you wanted to do it. Then I took stock of the rest of the veterinary supplies and made a list for the next time someone goes to the feed store.”

  Cash seemed impressed. “I noticed them flytraps were lookin’ ratty last night.

  Thanks for takin’ care of it.” He knocked his hat up a notch and addressed Gemma. “The stock tank out where the cattle are grazin’ is bone dry. I came back to switch out trucks before I head back out to refill the water tanks.”

  “Is that damn pump broken again? That’s twice in the last month,” Carter said.

  “I wondered. Thought boss lady could help me out. Show me how, or let me figure out the best way to prime the pump.”

  The double meaning in Cash’s words caused Gemma’s stomach to pitch again.

  “Sure.”

  “Did you notice if the salt licks are gone?” Carter prompted. “’Cause it was damn close to nothin’ the other day when I checked on ’em.”

  “Completely gone. I couldn’t find replacements tablets.”

  “She keeps them in the cellar.”

  “I’ll know where to look next time.” Cash angled his chin at Carter. “Far as I’m concerned, you done everything I thought needed doin’, so there ain’t no reason for you to stick around today. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

  The two men stared at each other. “Fine. I’ll go. Just as soon as you tell me where she is.”

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  Cash laughed, a little harshly. “If Macie wants to contact you, she will.”

  “And when she does? What then?”

  Gemma stifled a groan at Carter’s surety where he stood as far as Macie was concerned, after knowing her for one day.

  “If she does contact you, I’ll abide by her wishes. Until then, you’ll abide by mine.

  Stay away from her, McKay.”

  “You forgot one tiny detail. I don’t think Macie wants to stay away from me.” Carter retreated and loped to the barn. Before either of them said another word, Carter mounted his horse Deacon and galloped across the pasture, away from what probably would’ve been an argument as heated as the day.

  Cash swore.

  She tried to diffuse the situation. “What happened to you this morning? I woke up and you were gone. Was I snoring or something and chased you off?”

  “No. You looked so peaceful I let you sleep in. I woke up early to hang out with my daughter, but she�
��d already taken off.”

  “Where is she?”

  His eyes narrowed. “If I tell you, you gonna blab to McKay?”

  “No. But if he asks me, I ain’t gonna lie.”

  Cash sighed. “I called her cell when I couldn’t find her this morning. Evidently she found work at the Last Chance Diner. She’s cookin’ first shift today.”

  “She already found work? I hope I’m not the reason she felt the need to get a job when I told her she’d have to earn her keep if she stayed here.”

  “Don’t worry. Though your offer was mighty nice, ranch work ain’t her thing.”

  “Glad to hear I didn’t chase her away.”

  “Take more than that to scare either of us off.”

  Gemma stepped closer. She had an overwhelming compulsion to touch the smooth skin on his cheek, which was still damp from the exertion of early morning chores. She settled for curling her fingers around the window frame. “Is everything all right? You seem…I don’t know…different today.”

  “Just tryin’ to get the lay of the land, so to speak. I don’t want to disappoint my new boss lady.”

  “Nothin’ you’ve done to me, or for me, has disappointed me so far, Cash.”

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  He grinned. “Good to hear. What do you say we get the rest of these morning chores done and head over to the diner for lunch? I’d like to see my girl in action.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll grab the truck keys, and the salt, and meet you by the gate.”

  Something between them still didn’t feel right. Rather than press the issue, she’d see if it resolved itself – or if it was unfounded paranoia on her part.

  Carter tried not to fume as his horse cruised across the pasture. Problem was, he suspected he was mostly mad at himself. He should’ve trusted his gut feeling and gone to Macie like he’d planned last night. From the looks of it, Cash and Gemma had been so wrapped up in each other Macie probably spent the night by herself.

  How often had that happened to her? Was that the reason for her reserve?