Branded by the Texans [Three Star Republic] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Branded by the Texans (lit)

  Prowess, finally she’d been with a man who truly deserved that word.

  “You have no clue what you do to a man,” he rasped.

  “Maybe I do,” she sassed.

  He loosed a low chuckle. “Sparks, I’m gonna enjoy that contrary nature of yours. Now, go to sleep before I decide to explore another part of your sweet, sweet body.”

  Despite a frisson of desire, weariness stole over Kylie. She listened to the soft pounding of the rain. She listened to his steady large breaths and obeyed, slipping into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sliding Out His Rifle

  More than pleased with how his wife nestled against him, Dillon carefully reached toward a blanket, and draped it around them. So far, their body heat and the tiny portable heater he carried kept them comfortably warm.

  Satiated and relaxed as an old rope, he let himself imagine their life together. Wickedly enjoying her dainty frame, he poured his thoughts into the shell of her small ear. All ivory with touches of pink, it was perfect for his nibbling, for his lovin’ on her.

  While he heartily doubted their life together would play out as he dreamed it, still, he sure as blazes knew exactly what he wanted from her, his wife.

  His Kylie would be the challenge he needed in his life now, but especially the woman he so desperately needed. He’d have to pay real close attention to her taming. He didn’t want to lose one precious spark of her rambunctious nature or her wildfire temperament. Point of fact, he wanted to heal her where she’d been harmed and bring forth more of her blazing spirit.

  One day at a time, he reminded himself as urgency spiked through him, a bull’s ramming horn. “One day at a time, Sparks,” he whispered, and shut his eyes.

  Good Lord, his brothers were going to angrily womp on him with their words. He deserved their wrath. They’d all agreed that whichever one lassoed their wife, he’d bring her back to the ranch without biblically knowing her. Course, they hadn’t talked about being laid up at the hut for a spell while a storm raged.

  He’d raged more than the storm to know her, and not only with his slowly ramming cock. Hell’s snortin’ bull, yep, he’d take the punishment Dono and Dash dished out, once he explained.

  If the rain didn’t let up soon, the day’s traveling light would be gone. He didn’t want to chance riding a water-soaked trail at night. Locking in on his brothers’ minds, he sent a mental message that everything was okay. Though, he felt the click of connection, he wasn’t certain as the sun that they’d received his telepathic communication.

  For long moments, he sensed for their thoughts and emotions. Impatience dominated them, along with their wild-as-mustangs anticipation. Concern also surfaced for his Kylie’s safety, but they kept themselves reined tight.

  Marveling at her softness, Dillon let himself drift into a light slumber. He remained aware of the rain’s sound, and the moment she stirred, he awakened fully. She wriggled and snuggled, falling back asleep. The drip-drip of the rain signaled its end sometime soon. Through a crack in the wood, he could see the lighter coloring of the sky, letting him know it was around noon.

  He had plenty of supplies for them and Diamond. Given Dono and Dash had taken on a great share of the ranch work recently, there was no real reason to hurry. His only concern was a possible marauder and making certain Diamond moved around enough to keep her circulation healthy, though there was a part of him damn eager to get back to the ranch, to bring his—their new wife home.

  Their wife. He and his brothers had to make it work for the three of them. He’d diligently studied the relationship dynamics of one wife with several husbands, just as he’d researched the herd dynamics of his horses and cattle, beyond what he’d learned growing up.

  Dillon dang well knew his brothers poured over and discussed lovemaking books, especially How to Seduce Your Wife as the Perfect Lover to All Her Husbands.

  He’d scanned through the book himself, discovering it wasn’t partial to his nature. To the truth, balancing the needs and wants of all four them could prove to be more difficult than riding herd on the feral cats that lived on the fringes around the house and barn.

  Often to break the tension, he and his brothers joked about who was going to saddle up and bring the herd of cats in, and what rope worked best. It’d begun when their wolf-dogs tried chasing the wildcats out of their territory.

  Eventually, an uneasy peace had developed. The cats, many of them half-breed bobcats and their descendants, hunted in the sparse forest while his wolf-dogs hunted the grassy acreage surrounding the house and buildings.

  Dillon buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply and for long moments. He wanted his Kylie’s scent clinging to him always, filling his nostrils for everlastin’.

  Careful not to awaken her, he shifted checking the crack of light. The sun shone bright, and his gut told him to get a move on. A man never went against his gut instincts, not and lived through the border wars he and his brothers had survived.

  Moving as gently as he could, he eased Kylie from him and onto the edge of the bedroll. She emerged, but her fatigue took over, and she dropped back down into slumber. Gaining his feet easy enough, he managed to haul on his clothes quick, despite the confined space.

  Diamond snorted for him, restless and ready to go home. “Coming, girl,” he called out softly. Grabbing up his Stetson, and in a rush, he cracked his forehead on the low hanging door frame. “Dang it, hang it!” he whispered the curse.

  A second later, Dillon snorted a laugh at himself as he ducked through, one hand on his pistol butt. His wife had him off balance as a heavily used stud horse.

  Outside, he peered up at the sky. Sure enough, only remnants of storm clouds floated overhead. Around him, the trees and foliage glistened, a glorious display of nature. Filling his lungs with the cleaned air, he moved to Diamond.

  The mare whickered a greeting and blew her nostrils toward him as he hung the Stetson on a peg. “You’re still my sweetheart, too.” Dillon stroked her neck, his practiced eye taking in her physical condition. Running his hands over her, he felt for anything amiss. “Looking good, Diamond girl.”

  Once he’d brushed her, he slipped the mare’s bridle on, then arranged the saddle blanket. Rapidly, he worked around Kylie, and fifteen minutes later, he had Diamond saddled, the saddlebags and guns in place. Before swinging down the stirrup from the small saddle horn, he rechecked the girth straps.

  “Yep, we’re on our way home.” He gave the mare’s neck a smart pat. “Extra time off for you, carrying double.”

  Moving into the hut, he took a moment to let his eyesight adjust and wondered how best to wake Kylie up. God’s own truth, he didn’t want to frighten her. Going down on one knee, he palmed her sleep-warm shoulder. She started awake, blinking wildly at him.

  “Kylie, sweet little thang, it’s okay.” Tossing the blanket aside, she sat up, lithe as a wary wildcat. “It’s time to leave.” He held out his arms.

  After scanning the emptied hut, she pinned him with her gaze. Slowly, she stood up on her own and he followed, observing the fog of sleep still in her aqua eyes. They were the color of the Caribbean Sea as he’d seen it a few times in his youth, before all hell had broken loose and the sovereignty of Texas threatened. God, if she wasn’t the most beautiful ivory and golden carved woman.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  Half-turning at the waist, he plucked her garments off the pegs close to the roof and handed them to her, including her strange shoes. “It might be more comfortable if I wrap you in the blanket and the bedroll.”

  “No, thanks.” Clutching her clothes tightly, she eyed him like he’d lost a few marbles.

  “I’ll secure the bedroll while you dress.”

  She nodded, then daintily stepped off it. Swooping it up, he resisted the fierce urge to grab her close and kiss her more awake. Who was he fooling? He wanted to do much more than that with her lips, with her adorable sexy body crushed against his. Instead, he pivoted and headed o
ut of the hut.

  Glad he hadn’t bashed his forehead again, he tended to the bedroll. That’s when the familiar itch began. Someone was riding the trail, hunting him. Several possibilities of who and why played before his mind’s eye.

  Sliding out his rifle, he double-checked the ammunition. Hell’s ass, this was the last thing he needed with her. She was already fragile, close to a state of shock.

  Dillon pulled out his high-powered vid camera. Figuring to give her some time, he acted as if he were merely shooting the scenery instead of surveilling. He had no expectation of locating the son of a bitch, exceptin’ lord willing. Gradually, he telescoped the lens along the trail ahead of them.

  What he found confirmed his gut, at least, as far as someone riding another trail that intersected with the trail to his ranch. A covey of birds had been disturbed from their nests close to the where the trails joined. Anxiously, they circled above. Given the time of day it was not likely caused by a predator.

  “Jeb,” he uttered. The youngest of four brothers, Jeb was the wild hair and dangerously impetuous whenever he set his sights on something, or someone.

  Dillon guessed he might have seen a vid image of Kylie or merely heard about him roping a new bride. The McNeal brothers’ ranch lay north of their spread, and they used the intersecting trail.

  “Stupid kid.” He lowered the camera.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Dillon spun around. His Kylie stood in the doorway of the hut, the blanket bundled beneath one arm. Hell, what now? Unwilling to lie, he answered her. “Looks like we might have unwelcome company. I’ll need to keep hold of the rifle.”

  “What kind of unwelcome company?” Timid, but determined, she moved toward him, holding the blanket like a shield.

  Dillon let a rumble escape past his lips as he returned the vid camera to its case. “The kind I need to protect you from.” Facing her, he held out his arms. “Come on, angel girl. It’s time to mount up.”

  Eyeing him like he was some sort of strange god, she handed him the blanket first. He tucked it under his arm, seized her sweet waist and swung her astride Diamond. “You’re a natural at riding a horse, little Kylie”

  “It’s a good thing for you,” she sassed, her tone dry as the desert around their mountain.

  “Yep. How’s that beautiful butt of yours?”

  She hesitated. “A blanket would be nice.”

  Dillon smiled to himself, amused like the laughing devil with her and their situation. He rolled up the blanket, then gently positioned it beneath her ass. The sight of her well-rounded cheeks in jeans mightily hitched his cock.

  Pivoting on his boot heel, he grabbed his Stetson, placed it firmly on his head, then shut and carefully latched the hut door.

  “Lean forward, sweet thang.”

  He watched her obey before gripping the saddle horn and the reins in one hand. Stepping into the stirrup, he mounted behind her. “Nothin’ like riding double.” He aimed the words toward her ear.

  “For you maybe,” she flung over her shoulder. The softness of her tone gave her away. That, and he smelled her womanly juices.

  Dillon settled in the seat of his saddle, then eased her comfortably into the curve of his body. She felt more than precious and so tantalizing that he touched his lips beneath her tiny earlobe. Her quick intake of breath, and her surrender against him for an instant, razored hotly through him.

  He touched a heel to Diamond before his rutting ideas got the better of him. Reaching back for the rifle, he slid it out. Eagerly, the mare moved forward and picked up the pace of her walk as the moved onto the trail.

  Turning her head, she stared at his rifle. “Who is after me?”

  “Might be a fella named, Jeb. He’s a notorious hothead at times.”

  “Are you going to have to shoot him?”

  “Hope not. If I have to I’ll try to wing him.”

  “Wing him?”

  “Graze his shoulder. Or shoot through it.”

  “Ow.” She winced.

  “Better than dead.”

  “Don’t you have nonlethal weapons here?”

  “Nope. No such thing. Rubber bullets can kill.”

  With the trail being wide and only a gradual rise at this point, Diamond moved into a running-walk, rocking them.

  “Yeah, it’s like Tasers. They say they aren’t deadly. Still, people die, unjustly die.”

  Dillon snorted. “Tasers became damn unpopular here. They’re considered torture and aren’t used except as a defensive weapon.”

  “How did you stop their use by law enforcement?”

  “You don’t want to know, Kylie.” Dillon hugged her closer, happy beyond reason when she absently caressed his forearm. Her natural sway in time with Diamond’s gate was pure carnal heaven. And he meant to have more of it.

  “I do want to know.” Her serious little voice floated back to him.

  “Kylie,” he warned gently.

  “I do.”

  Mutinously, she tilted her chin. Dillon almost chuckled at her. Fortunately, his parents didn’t raise no fool.

  “People started taking matters into their own hands.” He paused, giving her an out.

  “Go on.”

  “Execution.” Again, he waited. When she didn’t tell him to stop, he continued. “They were eventually called the Black Rangers. No one knew who they were. But they went after the worst of the worst first. Usually it was a silver bullet straight to the heart.”

  “Like the Lone Ranger. The silver bullet, I mean.”

  “Yep. Like the Lone Ranger.” Dillon wondered what her Earth’s version of the Lone Ranger was, but that was a discussion for another time.

  “Did that stop the wrong use of Tasers?”

  “It made a big ole dent and slowed down other heavy-handed brutality. Course, groups of ordinary folks banded together and came to the rescue of each other.”

  “How’d they do that?”

  Dillon secured his hold on her, then pressed Diamond with his knees, a signal to the mare she could move into her smooth trot as she wanted to do. The trail had flattened and wound through a small grassy meadow. Pools of rainwater shone beneath the bright sun and the early spring flowers unfolded their blooms. Kylie was his unfolding bloom. All his.

  “Kylie ”

  “No, I want to know. I deserve to know. After everything I’ve been through…well, I want to know.”

  Her fingers dug into his arm and Dillon heard the hurt and the outrage in her tone over what had been done to her by law enforcement on her Earth.

  “They loaded their guns and started shooting. Or they made citizen’s arrests. Course, the Union used it to tighten the reins of martial law.”

  “Martial law. What did the Union do?”

  “They fortified troop stations and clamped down on commerce. Border skirmishes broke out, then a hellacious battle until a wall of our semi-trucks backed down their ground forces. Next morning, we watched storm troopers drop from the bellies of helicopters so large they hid the clouds. They surrounded the major cities in a blockade.”

  “What happened then?” Her voice trembled a bit.

  “It was a massive operation by the Union for ten days. Teams lead by the Black Rangers and others took out the command personnel. Whoever replaced those officers was targeted.”

  “Killed?”

  “Yep, most of them. Some of them decided to join us.”

  “Guerilla warfare then.”

  “Hit and run strikes. Also, strategic confrontations. Let’s say the Union troopers didn’t fare too well after several days. They began turning tail or fighting on our side. Most people will grab for freedom if it’s in reach.”

  “I don’t know about that. Most people I know go along to get along.” She released a deep sigh. “Including me.”

  “Duck and cover until you can fight.”

  “No. It doesn’t enter most people’s minds they can even fight the system. Unless you’re rich enough or know someone.”


  “They’ve been cowed. Plenty attempts to do that here. Rebellion runs deep in our veins, though.” Dillon rested the butt of his rifle on his knee as Diamond slowed to a walk. The mare picked her way over a stony stretch of ground that gradually rose toward a section of the trail lined with conifer trees.

  “Wow. What beautiful scenery. And the scent of those pines.”

  Sniffing, Kylie wiggled restlessly and changed positions. Her full sweet ass rubbed him in just the right way. The pleasurable sensations flowed along his shaft rather than twisting his loins to a needy demand.

  Dillon was damn grateful.

  As they approached the sparse forest, an easy place for an ambush, Dillon used a skill he’d learned in war. He scanned his immediate surroundings in an extra sensory way, looking with his mind’s eye.

  So far, Jeb, or whoever hunted them, wasn’t that close.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dillon Dead-aimed for Jeb

  “Are we still okay?” she asked as if she knew what he’d done.

  “Yep.”

  “Does it bother you if I keep talking, asking questions?”

  “Nope. Fire away.”

  Dillon knew two things. He wanted her to keep talking for his sake since he was enjoying the heck out of her company. Also, a communicatin’ woman was a woman willing to deal with a man. Silence, unless it was companionable, meant a deathblow. Either the slow agonizing death of a relationship, or the end.

  Past the rockiest area, Diamond surged ahead, breaking into a slow lope until they reached the sharp upward incline of the forest trail. Trotting forward, the mare eventually settled into a fast walk.

  “Oh, that was fun. Diamond, that’s your horse’s name, right?”

  “Yep. Are you sore from riding, Kylie?”

  “A bit. I’ve got unused muscles.”

  Dillon kicked himself for not remembering to apply liniment on her “unused” muscles. His head had been on getting them on the trail as his gut had warned.