Hard Ride: A Cowboy Romance

by Gigi Thorne

  “Hi.” I wave at them over Luke’s shoulder. “There’s definitely not a situation. I came here of my own free will—”

  “Miss...” Red Bandana holds up a hand in the air to stop me from talking. Me. “How can we be sure you aren’t being coerced?”

  “Listen, it’s very...sweet, but also extremely weird to follow me to a private home, even if you are—”

  “We’re doing it in the name of justice,” he declares. “Justice for all mankind.”

  “I get the justice thing,” I say evenly. “But aren’t you trespassing on someone else’s property right now?”

  “It’s a citizen’s arrest,” pipes up the guy in the back. I appreciated his willingness to step in when he thought there might be a problem, but now that they’re here, I’m...not into it.

  “A citizen’s arrest?” Luke is beside himself. “For what crime? Giving a lady a ride home?”

  “Does she live here, sir?”

  “Can I see your badge, sir?”

  Red Bandana stiffens. “I don’t have a badge. I’m not a member of law enforcement, just a concerned—”

  “A concerned tourist who has nothing better to do than meddle,” Luke snarls, and then he takes a measured breath. “Gentlemen, you sure as shit are not coming into my house. And the only way I’m coming out is if you book a tour.”

  There’s a ringing moment of silence during which all of them stare at each other. Luke crosses his arms over his chest, his carved chin jutted out. I know what it’s like to be in the crosshairs of those green eyes.

  The ringleader stares back, unwilling to flinch.

  It goes on like this for several heartbeats, and then Luke shifts his weight—just a little—forward, as if he’s going to come out onto the front porch and wreak havoc. My heart seizes up at the thought. I know the redhead has a gun, and if he feels threatened enough—

  “I’ve got a lot of other bookings today,” Luke says impatiently. “So if you’re going to reserve a spot—”

  “Sure. That’s—that’s fine.” Red Bandana cuts a quick glance at his friends. “How much is a ranch tour?”

  “You’ll want the Deluxe,” Luke says, without missing a beat. “For four people, that comes to three hundred.”

  “Three hundred dollars?” the redhead bursts out.

  Luke glares at him over Red Bandana’s head. “Three. Hundred. Dollars.”

  I lean against the staircase bannister and try not to laugh. There is no such thing as a Deluxe tour. Luke charges a flat rate of fifteen dollars a person to take a pair of horses on a short loop through the foothills. He should charge more, but I haven’t gotten to that suggestion yet—I only wanted to round him up some customers.

  Red Bandana, with his thirst for justice, takes the bait.

  “Well, I’m not paying for all of you.” He digs out his wallet over a chorus of protests, which he quickly silences. “You want to save her, don’t you?”

  I catch his eye as he’s handing over a wad of bills into Luke’s palm and mouth “thank you.” He’s not really saving me. He’s saving the ranch. I don’t know if he’s saving himself, given that Luke did not want to answer that door, but now he’s shoving the guy’s money into his back pocket and waiting for them to clear a path. And clear a path they do.

  “Let’s go,” Luke calls out over his shoulder, thundering down the front porch steps. “Gotta saddle up the horses. I hope you’re prepared, gentlemen. It’s going to be a hard ride.” They follow him, reluctantly, but halfway across the driveway he turns on his heel. “One second.”

  Luke takes the steps in two long strides and bolts straight into the house. It’s not five seconds before his arms are wrapped around me and he’s kissing me. Kissing me? No. Devouring me, with possessive hands wrapped around the curves of my ass. I lean into it, eyes closed, my core smoldering. Let them watch. That’s probably what they came for, anyway.

  He pulls away, his eyes fierce on mine. “I’ll be right back, but you don’t have to stay.”

  “Do you think I’ll give those assholes even the slightest whiff of victory? Not a chance.” I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him toward me again. This time, the kiss is a slow burn—soft at first and then, as he begins to explore my mouth, hard and hot.

  It’s a struggle to break away, and when I do, Luke puts the back of his hand to his lips. “You’re ruining everything. You know that?”

  “I think it’s the vigilantes, really.”

  “Right. Fuck ‘em. Let’s close the door and—”

  “Get out there, Rider. You charged them three hundred dollars. Show ‘em what you’re worth.” The fact of these guys showing up on Luke’s doorstep is not ideal, but if he can convert them into believers—

  I’m going to doubt it, but they’ll get what they paid for.

  And when Luke comes back, I’ll get what I still want, even if he never planned for a relationship, even if he’s going to put me on a plane at the end of all this and never look back.

  16

  Luke

  Isabel’s too damned good at whatever she’s been doing downtown, because when I get back from taking the interlopers on a fast and hard loop around the foothills—all of ‘em complaining that their delicate asses can’t take riding on a damned horse—there’s a line stretching from the barn to the house and starting to wrap around.

  “Well, shit,” I say under my breath as I let Trapper slow down to a canter, then a walk. With this many customers outside, I can’t go back inside and spend the rest of the day with her.

  Though...are these even the kinds of customers I want? They’re not here for me. They’re here for the sexpot in the bikini. And who can blame them? Except when she’s gone, they’ll be gone, too.

  Fucking bleak.

  My stomach turns over at the thought of it. I didn’t want her here in the first place. It was too dangerous, and we both knew it, and we both...did what we did anyway. But Isabel’s tenacious. She’s still standing in my house right now.

  Unless she’s not.

  I hustle Trapper into the barn and deliver the vigilantes a clipped version of the speech I normally give to customers at the end of the tour. “And if you enjoyed yourselves,” I finish, “you can come back any time.”

  Before they can say anything, I change my mind. “Actually, no. Don’t come back here. And get the fuck off my property.”

  “We’re going,” the redhead says, irritation evident in his voice.

  I’m not tending to that line yet.

  I sprint back to the house, climbing the stairs double speed, and throw open the door.

  My heart sinks. She’s not there. But why should she be? I know what she said, but it’s got to be boring as hell to—

  “Luke?”

  Isabel’s voice echoes from the second floor and my whole body flares with excitement.

  “It’s me,” I call up, and bolt. I’m at the top of the stairs in an instant, looking down the hall and into my room.

  Isabel’s perched on the bed.

  Completely naked.

  She sits with her legs delicately crossed, hiding what I want to see, her skin creamy and soft in the afternoon light. Her nipples are already peaked. I can see them from here.

  I rush toward her with a growl, instantly hard as a rock, and she leans back on her hands a bit, eyebrows rising. “Luke,” she admonishes. “There are people waiting outside—”

  “Let them wait.” I plant my feet in front of her and strip off my shirt, then reach for my belt buckle. “Let them hear what I’m going to do to you.” Her gaze deepens from a flicker to a smoldering flame. “That’s why they came here anyway—for the show. And fuck it. I’m going to give you one.”

  She parts her lips when my pants come off, leaning back onto the bed. And by God, she spreads her legs. My cock pulses against the cool air of the bedroom.

  One more heartbeat.

  That’s all I give her before I’m on top of her. She wraps her legs around my waist, drawing me in, an
d I sink into her glistening wetness like she’s been waiting for this all day—with pleasure.

  “Fuck, you’re—fuck,” Isabel breathes into my ear.

  “I’m what?”

  “Hard. And huge.”

  “You make me this way.”

  I thrust in to the hilt and her silkiness makes contact with my balls. They tighten up in response—fuck, I can’t lose it yet. Not yet. I pull my head back and look into her eyes. They’re half-lidded and full of desire, and it hits me then that Isabel didn’t have to do this. She didn’t have to come back to this two-bit town to try and save a ranch that landed on me by virtue of early inheritance. She didn’t have to stand out front in a bikini, making a last-ditch attempt to get some attention.

  I slow down the rhythm, trying to keep myself under control. “Tell me.”

  “Anything.”

  “Did you care about the ranch at all?”

  Her brow wrinkles and I tilt my hips forward, diving back into her tightness. “Ranch—yes, I wanted to get—customers—”

  “Or did you want to catch my eye?”

  Isabel grins, wrapping her arms around my neck, a possessive pressure there. “You.”

  I move myself away from her then, which elicits a little whine—but she doesn’t have to wait long, because my goal was to draw her off the bed and turn her over, hips pressed against the edge. “Hold on tight.”

  Her hands fist the comforter and she arches her back, that perfect ass bobbing in the air, and I run my hands over the line of her waist. She’s fucking intoxicating. She’s daring and independent, and only sometimes gives a fuck what I think, and I can’t get enough of it. Enough of her. My soul plummets to the ground at the thought of her absence. When she heads back to the city, what am I going to have left? The ranch doesn’t fucking matter if Isabel’s not here.

  My heart beats faster, but my brain doesn’t have time for that kind of dark thinking. Not with Isabel backing her ass up, her slick opening searching to be filled.

  I pin her down by the hips and give her what she wants. She moans, long and loud, and I slip my hand between her body and the comforter on the bed, wrinkled with her grasp, and search out the hot button at the apex of her legs. One press of my fingertips and she’s overcome. I take my fingers away to be a tease and her grip on the blanket tightens. “Don’t you do that to me, Luke,” she gasps.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t fuck with me like that.”

  “I’ll fuck you however I want.” I pull out, until only the head of my cock is left inside her, and drive back in while my fingers play over her clit. Her hips dance to a fast, electric beat, and I can feel her clenching around me. It feels so goddamn good it’s about to send me over the edge. Send me right over the edge.

  Isabel rides the wave to the top and then crashes down, a shuddering release that has her crying out, shaking. It’s loud as hell.

  I’m not done with her yet.

  She tries to bat my hand away. “No, I can’t...” But I pin her hand to the blanket and reach between her legs. This time, it’s a slower climb—“oh, fuck, oh, fuck”—and at the top she stiffens, going totally still. I stop moving my fingers. No—she’s not totally still. She’s trembling.

  “One more time,” I command, and then, with the slightest pressure, I bring her to release a second time.

  Isabel loses control, her moans filling the house—hell, the whole property—and the sound of it ignites a winding pleasure that spins up my core and releases into her.

  She pushes back against me, taking it all in, and when we pull apart she scrambles up onto the bed and curls up like a cat in a patch of sunlight.

  I want to curl up next to her.

  But there’s a tap at the window—and then another.

  “The hell—” I stalk over to the window and throw it open.

  There are ten people gathered underneath the window. One of them looks like a mom, and she stares up at me, eyes blazing. “Sir. Sir?” Their spokesperson, a man with neatly combed hair, can barely meet my eyes. “Are you...closed for the afternoon, or—we signed up for tours, but—you seem busy.”

  I can’t say no.

  I’ve finally got people here—to turn them away would be madness.

  So I give the guy as much of a smile as I can muster. “I’ll be right there.” I slam the window closed and turn to find Isabel stretching at the foot of the bed. How’d she get down so silently?

  “Give me a second,” she says as I reach for my clothes. “I’m coming with you.”

  17

  Isabel

  I throw on my shorts, my bikini top, and one of Luke’s white t-shirts. I’m swimming in it, but an artful knot near my hip turns it into something cute and—dare I say—aspirational. I definitely turn some heads when we walk out toward the barn, right to the front of the line that I created through sheer force of will. And through sheer force of bathing suit.

  Luke greets the next two people in line—two fresh-faced couples on vacation. They look from him to me with shy grins. “We’re here for the tour,” says one of the men, his eyes glancing over my shirt. “Is there...time to stop while we’re out in the foothills?” His face reddens just enough for me to know: these people heard everything. They are probably expecting a very different tour. I’d feel ashamed, but I’m still buzzing with residual pleasure, my whole body humming with it.

  Luke’s gaze is steady. “No.”

  “Oh.”

  “Still want to commit to a tour?”

  The guy glances at his girlfriend, who can’t tear her eyes away from Luke. She gives him a hasty nod, then answers the question herself. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

  The first guy rolls his eyes. “You got paperwork?”

  Luke passes over a clipboard, and they fill it out while we prepare the horses. It’s familiar work from growing up on the ranch next door, and it feels good to do it. It feels way better than creating endless marketing documents for companies who cancel their projects the next day. The pay is better, too. I bite my lip thinking about spending tonight in Luke’s bed. He’s crazy if he thinks I’m going home.

  We set out on the tour ten minutes later, the rest of the people in line starting to grumble.

  They’ll wait.

  I hug Luke’s back, feeling Trapper moving under us. The moment we move away from the outbuildings, he relaxes into the ride.

  “Can we go faster?” I say into his ear.

  “Can’t leave the customers behind.”

  I twist around. They’re competent enough riders. “They’ll stay with us.”

  I feel him grin, though I can’t see his face, and the next thing I know we’re speeding over the foothills. The wind is in my hair, the sun is on my face, and I’m pressed right up to Luke Rider.

  It’s heaven.

  With a chorus of whoops the pairs behind us spur on their horses. “Did you mean it?” I shout over the wind.

  “Mean what?” Luke shouts back.

  “That I have you.” I hold on tighter. “Can we start from there? Nothing else matters, Luke, nothing. Can we just start from there?”

  “It’s not gonna be easy,” he shouts in reply, as we go up and over a rolling hill. It’s the most gorgeous place on earth, truly.

  “I don’t care if it’s easy. I care if we’re together. If we can at least give it a shot.”

  “Admit it then.”

  “That I like you?”

  “That you came here just for this.”

  “Of course I came here for this. A hard ride with the great Luke Rider...what else could a girl want?”

  “More money. Stability. A place in the city—”

  “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  He takes a big breath. “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll end up stuck out here with a cowboy who wants you naked in bed, not in a bikini at the side of the road.”

  “Fine by me.” I’ve been out of the city for three days, and my
soul is already drinking in the wide-open spaces like I’ve never been outside before. And as for the inside spaces...I’d stay inside forever if it meant Luke would stay with me. No man in the city compares. No man ever could.

  “We’ve got to head back,” he says, making the final turn and slowing down. “Lots of people waiting for a tour.”

  “After that,” I murmur into his ear, “you should take me out on a date. Our first official date.”

  He turns his head and I lean forward to press his lips against mine. A cheer erupts from behind us.

  Luke rejoins the rest of the group, pointing out some of the various natural features on the way back to the ranch buildings. He’s so engrossed in describing the way the mountains were formed that he doesn’t see what I see—not at first.

  A thick, black cloud, rising into the sky.

  18

  Luke

  “Luke,” Isabel says urgently, cutting me off. “Luke, look—”

  “What?” I turn my head and that’s when I see it. My gut lurches and falls, and my brain catches up a moment later. “Hold on, Iz. We have to go.”

  Her grip is relentless on my waist. She doesn’t say a word as I urge Trapper on over the trails. To hell with the customers—they’ll have to catch up. My heart pulses with the word, over and over and over. Fire. Fire. Fire. Please let it be one of the outbuildings. The shed I don’t keep anything in, or even a patch of grass. That we could deal with before it spread. But foreboding sweeps over me in a cold wave. The cloud of smoke seems too big to have come from a shed.

  I crest the last hill and bile rises in my throat.

  It’s the farmhouse.

  And the barn.

  They’re too far away. How could this have happened?

  It’s a madhouse. Half the people who were waiting in line are hustling for their cars, and the other half are standing around, looking up at the flaming buildings like they wish there was something, anything, they could do. But they are motionless.