Oh, no. I forgot he could see me. I focus my eyes back on my laptop. “Sorry. There’s some construction going on outside my apartment.”
“I know how distracting that can be when you’re on a call. Want to reschedule?”
Distracting. Right. If by distracting, he means my nipples are hard and my panties are soaked just by watching Quinn up on the roof and thinking of him riding the bronc earlier.
“No. I think I’ve got all I need. You’d be perfect for the job, Michael. What do I need to do to convince you to come out for an interview?”
“I need to sleep on it. Talk to the wife.”
“Don’t take too long. They want to fill this position yesterday. I know they’ll pay top dollar.”
“California to New York is a big move. It will be a culture shock for sure.”
I gaze out the window again. He has no idea what culture shock really is. “I suppose it will be. But what’s the fun in living in one place and doing the same things over and over again because it’s safe and comfortable? You’re almost forty. Why not avert the mid-life crisis by shaking things up a bit. It might be just what you need.”
He laughs. “Thanks for reminding me I’m getting old.”
“We all are, Michael. That’s why we need to take the bull by the horns and see where life takes us.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
I end the call and stare back out the window. Quinn looks over and winks. Does he know I’ve been ogling him this whole time?
I lower the blinds and walk away. I think about releasing the tension but then decide against it. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Even if it’s only in my fantasies.
Chapter Eleven
Quinn
She’s late. Did one of her appointments run over, or is she deliberately making me wait? Knowing Amber, it’s the latter. She doesn’t want me to know she’s into me as much as I’m into her. It’s a strange feeling, this knot in my gut; this itch in my pants that has me craving her so much.
Finally, I see her crutching toward the barn. She’s changed into jeans, as I suggested, and they fit her like a glove. Between those and the way she looks wearing the cowboy hat, my dick starts stirring. She stops momentarily to pet Maddox’s dog, Beau. When he licks her hand, I’m jealous. I’m jealous of a damn dog. I turn and go inside.
She enters the barn behind me. “Take your pick,” I say.
She chooses the red ATV and holds out her crutches. “What about these?”
I take them and lean them against the hay. “You won’t need them.” She throws her bad leg over the seat and climbs on. It’s hard for me not to think about the last time we rode one of these. In fact, I haven’t been able to ride one all week without imagining her hands on me.
“Do I turn the key to start it?”
“Turn it and push the starter button. Driving these is easy. They have automatic transmissions, so you just need to put it in gear by moving this lever forward, then slowly press the throttle by twisting the right-hand grip.” I motion outside. “Take her out in the yard and practice.”
She puts it into gear and twists the throttle. It bursts forward and she yelps in surprise.
“Ease up a bit,” I say. “You’ll get used to it in a minute.”
I hop on mine and follow her out, then watch as she rides in a circle and then does a few figure eights. She pulls up next to me. “It’s easy.”
“Follow my lead. Relax your shoulders and keep your elbows bent. Locking your elbows gives you less control. Keep your toes pointed straight ahead. Just remember not to drive so fast that you outpace your line of sight or your brakes.”
“Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d drive out to the ridges. You’ve seen them from the air, now you’ll see them on the ground.”
“Sounds good.”
I pull in front of her and take it slow. The last thing we need is another accident. We approach the main house. Andie is sitting out front with Vivian. “Kin!” Viv squeals.
I slow. “Hey, squirt. Hi, Andie.”
“Going for a tour?” Andie asks.
“Thought we’d head out to the ridges.”
She smiles. “The ridges, huh? They’re amazing at sunset.”
I’ve heard about their sunsets at the ridge. When she and Maddox got together, they were always going out there. They still do sometimes. I’m sure she thinks we’re going out there for the same thing. She’s wrong. “Won’t be there that long.”
“Shame. Well, have fun.”
I drive to the head of the trail and stop. “It will take about ten minutes to get there. If you need to stop for anything, use the horn to get my attention.”
“Lead the way, cowboy.”
I’ve been called cowboy a thousand times in my life, but somehow, when she says it, it’s like this new sexy word she’s invented just for me. Or maybe that’s my dick talking.
We pass people riding horses along the way. It’s Saturday. A lot of owners of boarded horses come and spend the day on the trails. They all recognize me. Most say hello, but some of them turn up their noses. I get it. I’m a Thompson, and the Thompson’s have a bad rep around here. I wish they would understand that it’s not like I chose to be born into the family.
When we reach the top of the ridge, I stop. She pulls alongside me and admires the view. “I’ll bet Andie is right. This must make for an amazing sunset.” She glances at me. “You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“They are amazing. I’ve seen a hundred of them.”
She nods back toward the trail. “Why did some of those people completely ignore you?”
“You met my mom earlier. Well, she’s nothing compared to my grandfather and uncle. Let’s just say my family isn’t well-liked around here.”
“Where are your grandfather and uncle?”
“My grandfather died several years ago, and my uncle, well, he won’t be coming around for a while. But their legacy looms large. And some people don’t ever seem to forget.”
“But you said the apple fell far from the tree. So whatever they did, you obviously didn’t follow in their footsteps.”
“Not a chance. And they hate it that I’m here at DHR—enemy territory.”
“Enemy? What did Maddox do to them?”
“Nothing. Long story. Anyway, didn’t we decide not to talk about family? Let’s keep going.” I pull ahead, and we ride along the ridge. Amber’s horn sounds behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to see her stopped twenty feet back. I turn around and pull alongside her. “Is there a problem?”
“The engine quit on me. I must be bad luck or something. First the helicopter, now this.”
I hop off and walk over to look at her gauges. I mentally smack myself for not doing a pre-ride check. Tires, oil, fuel—the three things you always look at before riding. “You’re out of gas.”
Her eyebrows practically meet her hairline. “Did you plan this?”
“No, I didn’t plan this. And I’ll have words with Zac when we get back. He’s supposed to keep them fueled.” It’s a lie. Whoever takes them out is supposed to fill the tanks. But I don’t need her knowing I was distracted.
“How convenient. I suppose I’ll have to ride with you the rest of the way?”
“Unless you really do want to see the sunset, yes. Plus, what was it you said about having a fear of abandonment? I could go back for gas, but who knows how long it will take. I could get sidetracked.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She goes to get off, but I don’t want her putting weight on her foot, so I pick her up, carry her over, and put her on the back of my ATV. She’s not amused. “Seems you’re doing that a lot lately,” she says.
“Do you want to go back?”
“We’re already out here. Finish the tour.”
I climb on in front of her, anticipating her hands coming around me. When they do, my heart races like it did earlier when I was in the chute ready to ride the bronc. Why do I get the fe
eling Amber is just as dangerous?
I drive and her grip tightens. More thoughts of our night together bombard me, and my hand slips off the throttle momentarily. She leans her front against my back. “Not gonna happen, cowboy.”
“Who said anything about anything?” I huff.
“You mean to tell me your jeans aren’t getting tight thinking about what I did to you the last time we rode one of these? The way I stroked you. The way you came all over the handlebars.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Amber?”
She giggles. “I’m only joking around.”
“Well, don’t.”
“Why not?”
“You want to end up upside down with this thing on top of us?”
“You’re not an expert at the controls of an ATV as well as a helicopter?”
“Woman, I’m not an expert at knowing my own name when your hands are on me.”
“Is that so?”
“Can you hold on to my shoulders or something?”
More laughter. “Sure.”
We drive for a few minutes, then she pokes me. “What’s over there?”
“A cemetery.”
“I want to see it.”
I drive over and stop next to the old fence surrounding the dozen or so headstones. There’s a tree in the middle, casting shadows over the stones as if it’s somehow watching over them.
“I can’t believe there’s a graveyard on the ranch. That’s both cool and creepy at the same time. Let’s go inside.”
I help her off the four-wheeler. She uses me as a crutch, and we make our way through the old gate. It’s not as overgrown as it once was. For some reason, Andie insists on keeping it groomed. She said it’s out of respect—respect for the dead in general, not the specific dead who are buried here.
“Oh my gosh, this one says Thompson. So does that one. Who are these people?” She perches against a headstone. “Is that why they hate Maddox’s family? They took their land?”
I point to Earl Thompson’s headstone. “This was my great-great-grandfather. This land was his father-in-law’s. It eventually belonged to Earl’s great-granddaughter, Helen, who sold it to Maddox’s grandmother thirty years ago.”
“I take it the rest of the family wasn’t so happy about it.”
“And somehow we’re back to talking about family.”
“Sorry. Who do the other graves belong to?”
I shrug. “Cowboys mostly.”
“They wanted to be buried here?”
“Most ranchers commit for life. Half the ranch hands here have been branded with DHR.”
She’s appalled. “Branded? Like cattle?”
I laugh. “Tattooed. They get tattoos of the ranch logo. The people who work here see themselves as family, as much as if they were blood related.”
“But you don’t have a tattoo.” She smirks. “I’d know.”
“It didn’t seem right. I love this place. I’ll never work on any other ranch. But a tattoo is permanent, and I don’t see myself as a permanent fixture here.”
“Because of the family rivalry thing?”
“Maybe. I just see myself somewhere else.”
“Where?”
I shrug. “Beats the hell out of me. But it sure as hell isn’t in a graveyard. Want to get out of here?”
She hops to another headstone. “I want to explore it. Don’t you think graveyards are sexy?”
“Amber, there are dead people under our feet.”
“I know. It’s so mysterious. Like, at any second, a skeleton hand could punch through the ground and grab our feet.”
Instinctively, I look down. She laughs, losing her balance and falling to the ground.
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Let me sit for a minute and rest my foot.” I sit next to her, trying not to think of what’s six feet beneath us.
“Show me where they get their tattoos,” she says.
I reach around and point to my left shoulder. “Usually here.”
“You could always get a tattoo of something else.”
“You think I should get a tattoo?”
“They’re sexy.”
“Then why don’t you have one?”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t. I’d have seen it the other night.”
“Maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
Fuck. I’m sitting in the middle of a graveyard, and I’m getting hard. There is definitely something wrong with me. “Is that a challenge?”
She shrugs an innocent shoulder. Then she pushes me down and straddles me.
I put my hands on her waist. “I thought you don’t do repeats.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what do you call this?”
She cocks her head, then she lifts my shirt and puts her hands on my chest. “I call this taking the bull by the horns.”
Chapter Twelve
Amber
I don’t know what it is about this place. About him. But I have to have him.
He untucks my shirt and lifts it over my head. He examines my chest, my stomach, my ribs. He’s looking for the tattoo. He won’t find it there.
I unclasp my bra, but he doesn’t let it fall. “What if someone comes up on us?” he asks.
“How likely is it?”
He glances around. “It’s a Saturday. Lots of riders will be on the ranch. Maybe a fifty percent chance.”
I move his hands, and my bra falls onto his chest. “I’ll take those odds.”
His eyes devour me. “Why do I get the feeling you wouldn’t even care if someone saw us like this?”
I roll off him and onto my back to remove my pants. I feel a sting and sit up. “Ouch!”
He plucks something off my back and shows it to me. “Sand spur.” Then he stands, undresses, removes a condom from his wallet, and lies back down. He places his shirt and jeans on either side of his waist. “For your knees.”
“What about you?”
“Believe me, I won’t feel any pain.”
I move his clothes up to either side of his head. He questions me with his eyes. “For my knees,” I say.
His smile grows as I settle myself over his face. Hands grip my hips and pull me to his mouth. When his tongue touches me, electricity pulses through my entire body. I grip the headstone in front of me as his tongue works in and out of me. He sucks on my clit, then runs circles around it. I try not to move as he expertly feasts on me. If I go an inch either way, he’ll lose the spot, and I’m about to come. “Right there,” I say so he knows to keep doing exactly what he’s doing.
I grip harder, the stone not giving way to my nails. I’m building, spiraling up, wanting to go higher before he breaks me. “Don’t. Fucking. Stop.” Each word is a command he gladly follows. When he hums against my clit, I spasm in the most delicious way, shouting to the empty fields surrounding us.
When I scoot down him, he asks, “Did you just come while holding on to one of my ancestors’ headstones?”
I smile.
“Damn, woman.” He shakes his head. “That’s wrong on so many levels.”
He’s right. It’s wrong. Wild. Hot. And we both know it. I grab the condom and roll it on, then I sink down onto him. He bucks his hips and I ride him, thinking of how he rode the horse earlier. Everything about him is sexy. His name. His body. His professions—all of them. Even his emptiness. Maybe especially his emptiness. Because, somehow, I know he’s lost like I am. And I know that makes him dangerous. Dangerous for me.
He fondles my breasts and pinches my nipples. He rubs my clit. He works me until he sees I’m ready to explode once more. I’m riding him hard. He repeats my words back to me. “Don’t fucking stop.”
His raspy, needy voice is enough to push me over the edge. “God, yes!” I shout. I try to keep moving on him until he comes too, which is about ten seconds after I do.
“Damn. That was…” He catches his breath and takes in our surroundings. “Twisted.”
&n
bsp; I giggle and pull myself off him. He winces and lies back, gazing up at the sky. I steady myself on the headstone as I dress.
As he buries the condom under some dirt, I see the damage we did to his back. “Your back is all scraped up.”
“Totally worth it,” he says. Then he stands, staring at me pensively. “Wait, I didn’t get to see your tattoo. Where is it?”
“Guess you have to search for it some other time.”
“So we’re doing this?” He looks like a kid who just walked into a candy store.
“Easy, cowboy. Make no mistake, this thing has an expiration date.”
He pulls on his skivvies. “Do you see anyone complaining? I get to sleep with a gorgeous woman for the next ten days and not have anything expected of me afterward? That makes you a damn angel in my book.”
“Ha! I’m no angel.”
“If you’re the devil, sweetheart, go ahead and take me to hell.”
I watch as he gets dressed. Ten days of Quinn Thompson. Cowboy. Pilot. Rancher. He’s got me wishing my leg wasn’t just sprained. I wish it were broken.
Back at the ranch, Quinn straps a five-gallon gas can to a larger ATV and asks a ranch hand to ride out with him to retrieve the other four-wheeler.
“See you later, then?” he says, before driving off.
“I’ll check my schedule,” I tease. Then I reach into my back pocket for my phone. It’s not there. I yell, “Quinn! I left my phone in the compartment on the ATV.”
“I’ll bring it to you as soon as we’re back.”
I wave him off.
Aaron is walking a horse to the stable. “Hey, Amber. You and Quinn getting along okay?”
“Yes.”
“You let me know if he crosses a line. I know he can be a little feral.”
“And what makes you think I’m not?”
He chuckles. “How’s the leg?”
“Pretty good. I think I’ll be ready to ditch these things for a walking boot soon.”
“That will make things easier. Let me know if you need a ride to the doctor, or anywhere.”
“Actually, I need to get to the grocery store. Would you mind?”
Texas Roses (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series) Page 7
