by Sabrina York
Stud for Hire
Sabrina York
INTERMIX BOOKS, NEW YORK
INTERMIX
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
STUD FOR HIRE
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2016 by Sabrina York.
Excerpt from Cowboy on Command copyright © 2016 by Sabrina York.
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eBook ISBN: 9780451488190
PUBLISHING HISTORY
InterMix eBook edition / August 2016
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Epilogue
Excerpt from Cowboy on Command
About the Author
Chapter One
“What we got here this weekend, fellas, is a good, old-fashioned bachelorette party.” Cody skated a glance around the circle of cowboys with a wicked grin that made a shiver of trepidation crawl up Logan’s spine. “It’s our job to make all these ladies’ wildest fantasies come true.”
A wild whoop rose through the assemblage.
Logan rolled his eyes. How things had changed. When he’d been a kid, working summers at the Double S Ranch to bulk up his savings, the focus had been on cattle. It had been a manly place filled with rough wranglers who could hit a spittoon at fifty paces. Curse so damn blue they’d make a sailor blush.
When Cody and his brother, Cade, inherited the struggling spread, just outside the little town of Snake Gully, south of Fort Worth, from their ailing dad, Cody had made one small change. The Double S was now the Double Stud. A dude ranch. For chicks.
There was just something wrong with that.
But still, the ranch made buttloads of money, tapping into the local markets of horny housewives in Fort Worth and Dallas.
Logan skated a look around the assemblage and grimaced. The “dudes” Cody brought in to man the parties weren’t real cowboys. Well, most of them. They were city boys—some of whom had never wrangled anything except maybe a stripper pole. They were about as worthless as teats on a bull.
But the ladies loved them.
At least they knew how to dress the part. To a man, they were decked out in homespun shirts—most of them unbuttoned, revealing glistening, cut abs—Stetsons, boots, and chaps. A couple of them were even chewing on straw.
It was nice. They’d done their homework.
A pity no one had ever told them a real cowboy doesn’t douse himself in girlie cologne. The barnyard smelled like that store at the mall. The one that made Logan’s eyes sting whenever he walked by.
Also, a real cowboy didn’t go to the gym—didn’t need to: hefting hay bales sculpted muscles plenty fine. Or pile “product” in his hair. Or use a tanning bed. A real cowboy didn’t smear grease all over his chest to make it shiny.
But these guys did.
They had conversations about protein powder and body glitter.
Logan suppressed a shudder. This weekend was going to be a nightmare. The bunkhouse was going to smell like a fucking sorority. He’d probably end up taking his bedroll out onto the range. He’d rather sleep with the rattlesnakes.
“Remember everyone!” Cody bellowed over the catcalls that rose as a plume of dust appeared on the horizon. “Show them a good time . . . but keep your pants on.”
A chorus of dissent rumbled.
“I’m serious. Check your contracts, guys. Absolutely no pay for play this weekend. Not here on my ranch.”
One faux cowpoke raised his hand. “Can we take them into town?”
Cody scrubbed his face with a palm, then shot a pained glance at his brother Cade who snorted and spat in the dirt. Now Cade? He was a real cowboy. A tough ex-soldier and a fireman to boot. One could only hope some of his manliness would rub off on these metrosexuals, but Logan wasn’t holding his breath on that account.
Cody fixed a no-nonsense expression on his too-pretty face. “No. No hanky-panky under any circumstances. Dancing and stripping only. Follow the game plan. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” The chorus rose in the ranks. A couple of them even saluted.
“You too, mister,” his once-best friend said, shooting a smirk in Logan’s direction.
Seriously? It took everything in Logan not to growl.
When his buddy had suggested he work off his debt by helping out this weekend because he was shorthanded, Logan had agreed. But he’d thought Cody meant actual work. Not prancing around shirtless letting a bunch of horny middle-aged women caress his abs. He’d been mortified to arrive here today and discover the depth of Cody’s perfidy. He’d shoved a spangly outfit at him along with a schedule of events and the snarky admonition to “shake it good.”
He was never—ever—playing poker with Cody again.
He eased back, one step. Two. Into the shadows of the barn.
He should just leave.
This wasn’t his thing. Not by a long shot.
He had a huge project looming at work, one that snagged every ort of his attention. There were a million things he’d rather be doing—he should be doing—this weekend. Besides, if his brothers caught a whiff of this, he’d never live it down.
The party bus pulled up, followed by that cloud of dust, and the women began filing off. And hell. They weren’t middle-aged. They were young. Practically teenyboppers. Girls. Flighty things wearing short dresses. And high heels. The squeals as they scoped out the men awaiting them pierced his eardrums and he winced. They were already drunk. They giggled as they threaded through the barnyard, checking out each man with hungry eyes and wandering hands.
Yeah. He was definitely leaving.
Hopefully Cody wouldn’t notice until it was too late to catch him and drag him back—
But then something caught his eye. Snared his attention.
Red hair. A rare shade he’d seen once and never again. His heart lurched, then a powerful pounding rocked his chest.
She stepped from the bus, like Venus descending, and scanned the crowd. Her nose wrinkled slightly, as though she disliked the cacophony as much as he did.
And damn. She was gorgeous.
He stared at her, studying the delicate lines of her heart-shaped face, that swanlike neck, those tantalizing curves. Though she wore jeans and an oversized shirt—the only woman who’d come dressed for a weekend on a dude ranch—she was stunning.
Damn.
She hadn’t changed.
Not much at all.
She was still as beautiful as she’d been in high school.
And he, apparently, was still as awkward.
Because when her searching glance reached him and their gazes tangled, everything in his body seized. He lurched backward, deeper into the shadows of the barn. Tripped over a coil of rope. And fell on his ass.
The impact sent a shock wave through his body, though it was nothing compared to his reaction at the sight of her.
Hanna Stevens.
Hell.
Hell no. He wasn’t leaving.
He could not turn his back on the chance to spend this weekend with the woman he’d never forgotten. The woman who’d stolen his heart without even knowing it. The woman who probably didn’t even know his name.
***
What a circus.
Hanna glanced around the barnyard of the Double Stud Ranch, at the preening manflesh and the slavering women. The whole thing made her just a tad uncomfortable. Not that she didn’t like looking at hot men. Who didn’t like looking at hot men? It was the propinquity that made her uncomfortable. The touching. The blatant familiarity. With strangers.
It set her teeth on edge. She’d never been one for casual intimacy—even if it was in broad daylight in front of a crowd.
Why her sister, Sidney—a dyed-in-the-wool city girl—had chosen this, a dude ranch of all places, for Hanna’s bachelorette party, was a mystery. Her gaze flicked over the hunks preening in the yard.
Oh. Right.
She shot a frown at Sidney, but Sidney just flashed back a wicked grin. “Chill out. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Will I?” Sidney, of all people, should know Hanna better than that. Of the two of them, Hanna was far more reserved . . . especially when it came to males of the species. She always had been. The prospect of frolicking with men she didn’t know, men who stripped for a living, was not at the top of her list.
But then, Sidney had planned this weekend. This was Sidney’s kind of scene.
Aside from that, this was Cody Silver’s ranch and her sister had had a mad crush on Cody Silver ever since she discovered she had hormones. All through high school and beyond, Hanna had had to listen to Sidney moon over him. Clearly, in the years since her sister moved to Dallas, that hadn’t changed.
The only thing that had changed was the fact that now Sidney denied said crush with a passion. Now her rants about Cody centered on what a philanderer he’d turned out to be and what had ever happened to decent, faithful, and honest men?
Indeed, as Cody raised his arms to welcome his guests in a sweeping embrace, half the party swarmed him, hugging him and kissing his cheek and batting their lashes as if they considered him part of the show. Poor Cody had to practically peel them off.
But then, Cody had been peeling women off his entire life. And he peeled them off with regularity. He’d dated and dumped nearly every woman in town and probably a good portion of the female population of Dallas and Fort Worth.
Sidney’s snort of disgust was audible. When Hanna shot a glance at her, the pain in her sister’s expression was palpable too, but she covered it quickly.
Hanna longed to rub her arm in consolation, but she knew her sister, and she knew such sympathy would only make her pain worse, so she didn’t. At some point, Sidney had to accept the fact that Cody wasn’t the settling-down type. She needed to focus her attentions on some other man.
Hanna scanned the yard and grimaced. Just not any of these men.
It wasn’t just because they were young and puppy-playful and half naked. It wasn’t just because they took their clothes off for money. It was because there was just something . . . missing.
But then, every man, most men—at least the men Hanna had dated—were missing something.
Or maybe it was her. Maybe her expectations were too high. At least, that was the conclusion she’d come to. That was why she’d finally decided to give up and give in. Why she’d agreed to marry Zack. She wasn’t getting any younger, and at this point, she doubted she had it in her to feel the glorious and transporting passion she—
Holy God.
Hanna’s heart lurched as she locked eyes with the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He was standing away from the crowd, in the doorway to the barn. Tall and muscular with a simmering gaze, he looked at her as though he wanted to eat her up.
As his gaze burned into her, a shiver walked down her spine, heat blossomed in her veins, her mouth went dry.
He wanted to eat her up . . . and heavens, she wanted him to.
It was an unfamiliar feeling for her, as she was a woman who had always sought and never found that elusive flame of desire. A woman used to keeping her emotions tightly reined, her true cravings a secret.
But God . . . This feeling, this overwhelming ache—it paralyzed her.
With a sudden epiphany that stunned her, she realized she wanted this man in a way she’d never wanted a man before. And she wanted him to want her. Fervently, completely. To whip her into a frenzy and take her the way she yearned for it. Hard. Hot. Hungry.
In the entirety of her life, she’d never met a man who made her feel like this. Granted, living most of her life in the small town of Snake Gully, she hadn’t met a lot of men. And none of the men in town had ever struck this kind of chord with her. Not even Zack.
But this man . . . This man!
Visions of the two of them, wrapped around each other in a sweaty clinch, snarled through her mind. The force of the emotional impact stole her breath.
It took an effort to remind herself how foolish, how inappropriate, these urges were.
For one thing, she was absolutely not the type of person to ignore the rules and simply take what she wanted. For another, she was hardly in a position to do so. She was officially engaged. She’d made her choices, locked herself in, and now she had to live with the consequences.
This man was not in the picture. Couldn’t be.
For another thing, she had to acknowledge the fact that whatever this felt like, it wasn’t real.
He wasn’t real.
She had no illusions about what this weekend was. Who these men were. Why they were all here. She forced her heart to cease its manic tattoo and forced her attention away from him, to her sister, who was determinedly ignoring Cody and flirting with a too-young cowpoke, and another familiar frustration rose within her.
Unlike Hanna, Sidney had always been a free bird, utterly unfettered by the need to bow to convention. She rarely did anything to please anyone but herself.
Concern over how Dad or Zack would react to this little adventure had probably never even crossed her mind.
Hanna couldn’t help but feel a little envious. Even though every decision she made was her own, and she accepted ownership for each of them, it rankled that she couldn’t slough off the mantle of responsibility she’d been born with, couldn’t step outside of the box that caged her. Couldn’t just reach out and take what she wanted.
Couldn’t simply shrug and walk away from the disaster her life had become.
Of the two of them, Hanna had always been the good girl. Had always swallowed her own desires and done what was expected.
It was, always had been, a pretense. And the mask was starting to chafe. Especially now.
What she wouldn’t give to be someone else . . . if only for a short while.
>
What she wouldn’t give to have a taste of what she really craved—
She forced the inconvenient yearning away.
It was far too late for such nonsense.
Wasn’t it?
“Well?” Sidney sidled up to her. “What do you think?” She tucked a long blond curl behind her ear. The breeze immediately whisked it back across her cheek. Her expression was a little too inquisitive.
Hanna frowned and crossed her arms. “Zack would not approve.”
Sidney grinned. Classic minx. “Good thing he’s not here. The last thing you want at a bachelorette party is a possessive groom.”
It took everything in Hanna not to wince. She was certain Sidney did not intend the comment as a dig. Then again, given her very vocal opinion of Zack, it probably was.
“Besides, you deserve to have a fun weekend. Relax for a change. Enjoy yourself. Before long . . .”
She trailed off, but it hardly mattered. They both knew what she was going to say.
Before long Hanna would be married. And in Sidney’s estimation, that was when all the fun would end.
She was probably right.
Relax and enjoy yourself.
Right.
“So, if I’m supposed to relax and enjoy myself . . . why did you invite Tibby?” Hanna nocked her head toward the gaggle of women by the rail fence. Their queen, Tibby, Zack’s sister, was checking out the hot studs . . . with her hands. The men seemed to enjoy the fondling. They preened and thrust out their chests, pumped their biceps, and flexed their muscles. Hanna had never seen so much rippling flesh.
It had been a surprise to board the bus for this weekend getaway and see her future sister-in-law ensconced in the front seat. Hanna had expected it would be only herself, Sidney, and a few select friends attending what was billed as a Wild Rollicking Weekend for Women. She’d looked forward to the opportunity to escape from her worries, from her impending marriage . . . for a while.
“She invited herself. And all her friends.” Sidney blew out a disgusted breath. “No doubt she’s here to make sure we behave.”
“Tibby? A chaperone?” Even as the words left Hanna’s lips, Tibby grabbed one of the cowpokes . . . by the horn. He chuckled, eased her hand away, and waggled a teasing finger, but he didn’t seem offended. He leaned closer and whispered something in Tibby’s ear. Her eyes lit up and she nodded.
