by Reece Butler
He wasn’t used to talking with women. He certainly wasn’t used to women like Lila Frost. As well as making him horny, she made him grin.
“Lila?”
“What!”
She huffed the word at him. Her chest moved in a way that had him wanting to hold and kiss her, nuzzling those nipples and…He hauled his mind back to the subject at hand.
“I’m glad you took the initiative with Houston. Or maybe he started it. What matters is you now know sex can be fun. So, my room or yours when we get back?”
“Excuse me?”
“You enjoyed our kiss this morning. There’s another set of lips I want to taste. I need to prove to myself that your parts are in perfect operating order.”
Her throat bobbed. She leaned back in the seat and inhaled. Lovely. He couldn’t wait to touch and taste those breasts. He placed his hand on her thigh, letting his fingers rest in the pouch her skirt made between her legs. When she didn’t push him away he trailed them lower, until he could slide his hand, ever so slowly, under the hem of her dress. His fingers ran over thick lace and then touched silky, naked thigh. He choked. His heart pounded like a jackhammer and his cock went as hard as one. Small sweeps brought his fingers to the cleft of her thigh. Their harsh breaths filled the truck. He used his middle finger to dip lower, and…
“Oh!”
She pushed against his finger. He didn’t move a muscle. She relaxed, letting her knees fall open. He circled the spot. She bit her lip. He slid his finger lower. Soaking wet lace over swollen folds. He pulled his hand out.
“Why did you stop?”
“There’s a party we have to go to.” He didn’t think he could get any hornier, but he wanted her to be on edge. “I don’t have any condoms, so tonight we’ll focus on you, and—”
“I have a box of them,” she blurted. “A big box. Huge. TJ gave them to me before he left. He dared me to use them up while he was gone. The right way.” She suddenly went still.
He gave her a minute, but she didn’t continue. She just stared forward, hands clenched. He went cold.
“Did you and Houston open that box?” he asked gently.
She gulped, shaking her head. “It was my fault,” she whispered. “I moved back and…sat on him. I’m safe. Probably.”
“Probably? Are you on the pill?” He kept his voice level and calm.
“Not since college,” she replied nervously. “Had no need.” She groaned, not the good kind, and hid her face with her hands.
“Nuh, un. You don’t hide from me, or the truth,” he said, gentle but firm. “You and Houston had unprotected sex. Where are you in your cycle?”
“I’m irregular.” She twitched, as if she couldn’t manage a shrug. “Maybe I take after my dad’s side,” she added in a mutter.
Jet didn’t understand her comment. He didn’t push her on it, though he was raging inside. Houston had made it clear all along he was never, ever going to have kids. He’d been raised with more money than Jet would ever see in his life. The bill for one month of Houston’s private school fees was more than the state allotted to care for a kid like Jet for years.
But life wasn’t perfect behind those big gates. With money came requirements. A big one was keeping up the illusion of the perfect family. The only person Houston cared about as a kid was his little sister. All he had left of her was a photograph, a metal jar, and memories of her crying on his shoulder. He said he’d never go through the pain of losing someone again.
There was no way Jet would ever walk out on a child. If Lila was pregnant by Houston, and his buddy had to walk, then Jet would stay. He had dreams, but they were nothing compared to the needs of an innocent child. It was too late to do anything but wait and see.
The worst thing was that the thought of having sex with Lila bareback made him even hornier. That, however, could not happen. Unless she was already pregnant…
He’d been abandoned by his mother and his father, if those were the right terms for what he’d been told was a one-night stand. He tried so hard to fit in, but when he was five his adoptive parents got their miracle baby, a blond biological son. Three years later his father was sent overseas. Instead of taking him along, they’d sent him back into the foster care system. They’d never treated him well, but they were all the family he’d known. He’d been angry, and let it show. That labeled him as unacceptable for adoption.
He’d grown up tough and strong. It helped that he was big for his age. He got through okay, but he’d seen lots of kids get crushed in the system. It didn’t take physical abuse to destroy a child. Knowing they weren’t wanted, told they didn’t fit in and never would, was enough to make some give up. Lila’s child, if there was one, would never, ever be in that circumstance. He’d be staying at the Circle C as long as it took to have the doctor say Lila was definitely not pregnant. And if she was, they’d be getting married. He would not allow her baby to be born a bastard.
Case closed, end of discussion, not gonna happen. Telling Lila about his decision would not help the situation. He gave himself time to calm down.
“There’s nothing anyone can do about it now, Lila. Time to move on.”
“Can we not talk about this?”
They were just coming up on the MacDougal ranch when he spoke again.
“Do you want me, and Houston, in your bed?”
She kept him on the baited hook for what seemed like eternity.
“Oooh, yeah,” she said finally, giving a breathy emphasis that torqued him up.
He held back a groan of pain. His cock was too big for his britches. How the hell was he going to get rid of a hard-on with that to look forward to? He kept his eyes on the road, his fingers tight on the wheel to stop himself from reaching for her. Finally, he wheeled the pickup through the gate. They drove under wrought iron letters, M and D welded together, and rattled across metal pipes. Too late, he realized what it might sound like. Houston thrashed awake. Lila ducked, so his flailing arms didn’t hit her.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded, eyes wide.
“Cattle grid,” said Lila. “It keeps cattle and horses from getting onto the road.”
“Sounds too much like rapid fire for my liking.” Houston shuddered and ran his hands over his face.
Jet’s issue with too-tight jeans disappeared when he saw the group of men waiting for them. Ambush was the only word he could think of. One of them, a darker-skinned older man, wore only boots and a kilt. He had a thick black braid hanging down his back. The men were all tall and muscular. One younger man, with the same look and coloring of the one in the kilt, had a huge raven perched on his shoulder.
“That’s Uncle Lance in the kilt, and Uncle Simon with the glasses,” said Lila. “Danny was their oldest son. Ross has the raven. He and Brody are fraternal twins, like their fathers. The other two are my cousins Sam and Trey Elliott. Their older brother, Ben, and his wife and kids should be here later.”
“They don’t look happy to see us,” said Houston.
Jet wouldn’t mind a good fight. If he couldn’t get Lila alone and naked, one way to get rid of frustration was to pound someone into the dirt. He had a choice of many eager volunteers here.
“I don’t know why they’re standing there like that,” said Lila.
Jet knew. He’d expected to have to prove himself. It was one thing to be a nobody hired hand who lived in a bunkhouse and kept to himself. Lila’s fathers must have told them she was taking them to her bed. That brought things to a whole different level.
Jet pulled the pickup to a stop. He turned to Houston, finding a matching grin.
“Ready to rumble?”
Chapter Twelve
“Rumble?” said Lila. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “They want to fight because I hired a couple of workers?”
“We’re living in your home,” said Jet. “They want to check us out.”
“Uncle Tommy already did that. I hired you, and that should be good enough.”
Her unc
les and cousins stood in a semi-circle about thirty feet away. Five of them glared, arms crossed, muscles twitching. Uncle Simon seemed to find it amusing, but he was there with the others. A sense of dread crept up her backbone. Uncle Lance loved her dearly, but when he took on his position as Laird of the MacDougal Clan, he behaved quite differently. When he spoke as The MacDougal, as the Clan Chief was called, he expected instant obedience.
The Laird’s main responsibility was the safety and continuance of the Clan. It didn’t matter what an individual member wanted, as the Clan came first. As a member of that Clan, she was to obey, or be banished. It was The MacDougal glaring at them, not her kindly Uncle Lance. She nervously licked her lips.
“What the he-ck are they doing?”
She changed the word just in time. She had no doubt Jet and Houston would try to spank her in front of all six uncles and cousins. There was a good chance The MacDougal would allow, or even encourage it. Discipline within the Clan was a top priority and she’d been chastised many times for her cursing. She’d never done it in front of The MacDougal.
“You hired a pair of ranch hands,” said Houston, breaking in on her thoughts. “Looks like your fathers told them about you taking me into your bed.”
“How dare they! It’s my decision what I do.” She nudged Houston to get out. “I am going to tell them to back off and—”
“No, you are not.”
Jet’s spoke, crisp, clear, and definite. She turned to him. “Why not?” He looked out the windshield, his face like stone.
“This matter is between them, and us. You will stay out of it.”
“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m your boss!”
Jet turned to her. His eyes glittered like black diamonds. A cold dread thudded inside her ribs. She would not want to face this man in a fight.
“Right now you are the woman I was given orders to escort. That means I’m in charge. You will obey me, or be punished.”
She was still feeling the effects of the spanking they’d administered. It had hurt, but not too much. Her pussy thrummed at the thought of the punishment he might give for challenging him. She couldn’t do it in front of The MacDougal, though. He might take it as an insult and use the flat blade of his ancestral claymore across her bottom. That would be embarrassing, not arousing. She would not give in easily, however.
“Just because I want to have sex with you doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do.” She heard a choking noise from Houston. She whipped her head around, catching him before he could stop snickering. “It’s not funny!”
“You will follow my orders,” said Jet, calm and cool.
His voice and stern face reminded her of The MacDougal. Only instead of being scared and wanting to instantly obey, her nipples hardened.
“Follow your orders? What gives you the slightest hint that I’ll do anything you say?”
He gave her a look of condescending amusement that made her blood boil even more. Outrage mingled with arousal, and the rotten so-and-so knew it! She tamped down her emotions.
“They’re acting like Neanderthals,” she said.
“You never brought a boyfriend home before,” said Jet.
“I never had one to bring,” she replied bitterly.
“They’re doing this to protect you,” said Houston.
“I don’t need protection from you!”
“They don’t know that.”
“Lila.”
She gave one last glare at Houston and turned her wrath on Jet. “What?”
“Let them prove they love you.”
She sputtered. “Love me? By beating up the first men who want me?” She shook her head, amazed and disgusted. “Oh, right. That will really make me feel better. Ha!”
“They want to test us to see if we’re worthy of you,” said Houston seriously.
“Worthy?”
He nodded, making her roll her eyes. Once more, the men had to be in charge. It didn’t matter that she was about the same age as her cousins, she couldn’t be trusted to choose her own lovers. No, they had to be reviewed, as if she was a naïve fifteen-year-old unable to know what she wanted.
“I am fully capable of making up my own mind who I want in my bed. What anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.”
It wasn’t true, and she knew it. She loved the old-time community values of helping each other. Unfortunately, with that came the belief that the little woman was to be protected, from herself as well as others. She’d fought against it as long as she could remember. It was not the sixteenth century, and she was not the property of her clan or tribe. She was no prize to be given to the winners.
Try explaining that to the six men silently staring at them.
Maybe Jet and Houston were right. Standing alone against thirty-some male relatives certainly wasn’t working. She blew out her breath, giving in to the reality of the situation. If her cousins and uncles were bulls, they’d be pawing and digging up the dirt with their horns. If gorillas, they’d be pounding their chests and showing their big teeth. The male posturing was so ridiculous, it was almost funny. Eight men waiting to protect her. She knew they wanted what was best for her, even if their definition of “best” was far different from her own.
Jet raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that made her heart beat and her pussy purr. They wanted to do the he-man thing for her. She suddenly remembered her dreams of princesses, evil lords, and dragons. She’d had no princes trying to save her. She’d vanquished evil with the help of fierce dragons with dark eyes and fiery tongues. They’d encouraged her sword fighting and, as she got older, had filled her nights with seductive whispers.
Jet had dark eyes, and his fiery words could blister. He was pretty damn good at seductive whispers, as well. She could see him with a dragon tattoo reaching over his shoulder…
She turned back to the silent drama. If her cousins and uncles didn’t love her, they wouldn’t care what happened to her. All those times she’d gotten into fights, she’d had at least one cousin at her back making sure the fight was fair. She’d done the same for them, too.
“I guess it’s rather sweet of them, in a medieval way,” she reluctantly admitted.
Houston choked. “Darlin’, there ain’t nothin’ sweet about it from my side of things. Those dudes look tough. We’d best get it over with.”
“Not until Lila agrees to behave,” said Jet. “You will not interfere. Understand?”
She tilted her head to him in silent challenge. “Fine! I’m eager to see how far you get.”
“Let’s do it,” said Houston.
Both men opened their doors at the same time. Her relatives straightened up. Though she rolled her eyes at their posturing, a thrill ran through her. When Jane married Riley and Travis Adams the other week, it was also a party for her parents and theirs, so they hadn’t had the usual semi-serious wrestling and fighting sessions. She hadn’t watched a good fight in too many months.
Houston waited, holding his arm out. She slid out the passenger seat, quickly brushing down her skirt to cover herself. He grinned almost as broadly as he had when she rode him in the shower. She was about to walk by herself but he placed her hand on his left arm. He leaned on his cane with his right, walking almost as slowly as he had when they’d gone from Jet’s truck into the house.
“You can move better than that,” she whispered.
“Damn right I can, but they don’t have to know it.”
Jet let Rascal out. Man and dog kept pace on her other side as they approached the arc of hard-faced men. She might be doing the lady thing, but she was not going to give up who she was. She lifted her chin and stared at the Chief of the MacDougal Clan. His eyes laughed at her for a second, then turned cold.
“Introduce us to your friends,” he ordered.
“Jet Quartermain, Houston, this is my uncle, Lance MacDougal. He’s also known as The MacDougal, which means Chief of the MacDougal Clan.”
“Lila is under my protection,” said Lance to Jet, q
uiet but deadly.
“It’s good the lady has such men to protect her,” replied Jet in the same tone. “We’ll be taking over that job.”
“Not unless we believe you have the strength, determination, and ability.”
Jet nodded slightly. “Fair enough.”
Lance stepped forward. He winked, kissed her forehead, then stepped back.
“Lila, you’re here to help your aunt with supper. Go to it.”
Furious at the casual dismissal, she raised her eyebrows at Jet, demanding his response. He gave her the same sort of I’m in charge look as her uncle.
“Excuse me?” she demanded. “I am not going to—”
“Yes, you will. Or we’ll repeat what we did in the truck on the way here,” said Jet, smooth and quiet. “Your choice, Lila.”
Heat flooded her face, and other parts, at the reminder of the spanking. She opened her mouth to blast him. His dark eyes bored into her, and she snapped her jaw shut. Those eyes made her think of Rascal’s wild cousins, the ones that howled down the valley on moonlit winter nights. Lance and Jet acted like those wolves, one an old silverback still running the pack, the black one young and untried, but obviously powerful.
Compared to them she was a deer, heart racing as she bounded away from the battle to come. She took a mental step back. Jet was calm, controlled, and very, very, sure of himself. He made her tingle in places that should not be aroused with uncles and cousins ready to rip him apart. What really bugged the hell out of her was that she wanted to do what he said. At the same time, she wanted to disobey and see what the consequences might be. The tingle turned into a flare.
She did not want to be pushed into the kitchen and miss everything!
“Lila, that color is lovely on you!”
Aunt Marci’s voice broke the spell. Lila turned. Smiling widely, arms open, Marci rushed from the porch to hug her. Uncle Lance’s chuckles made her both fume and blush.
“You must be Lila’s Aunt Marci,” said Jet. “I’m Jet Quartermain, and this is Houston. We’re Miss Frost’s new hired hands. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
