by Gigi Moore
Maia looked her up and down and took a whiff of the air as she stepped into the room. “Where are you off to?”
“Nowhere special. Maybe a walk around the ranch, get some fresh air.”
“Good for you.”
“Why good for me?”
“I heard about your little adventure in the Old West town.”
Who hadn’t? Gossip traveled like wildfire around this place. Desiree remained glad that the kiss she’d shared with Carson hadn’t received equal billing with her near trampling. At least she hadn’t heard any whispers about it around the ranch yet, and she was sure if anyone had witnessed the kiss, they would have been yammering about it by now, especially if they had caught that slap at the end.
“I’m just glad you’re taking the initiative to get out and around and enjoy this place the way it should be enjoyed,” Maia said. “The way you deserve.”
“I’m not going out riding or anything. It’s just a walk.”
“One step at a time.”
“How very wise of you.”
Maia grinned and stepped back into the hallway. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Desi. Give yourself a break. Give them a break.” She started to leave, then paused and turned back to Desiree, brandishing a flashlight. “I almost forgot why I came up here in the first place.”
“Wha—?”
“Just take it, okay? You never know.”
Desiree took the offering and watched her sister leave, wondering how much Maia knew about what had happened to her. Desiree had never told anyone, especially not Maia. With Maia’s gifts, she just always assumed her sister knew. She was the one, after all, who had warned Desiree, not against Jeremy specifically but against danger that night in general, told her to watch herself. Never in Desiree’s wildest dreams had she thought that danger would come from the man she had been dating for the last three months.
Obviously, it hadn’t occurred to Maia, either, not even in her visions.
Desiree shook herself again, hated that she was allowing her past to rear its ugly head now, when she was trying to get back on the horse, so to speak.
She made it outside, feeling lost. She didn’t know where to go or what to do. Sure, it was just a walk, but she needed to have some sort of destination in mind, didn’t she?
It was a shame, considering she’d lived here long enough that she should have been better acquainted with the ranch attractions and hot spots.
The Old West town was closed by now, but there was a bar on the premises, not that Desiree was much of a drinker. The two glasses of wine she’d had at dinner still gave her a slight buzz. Compared to most of these cowboys, she was practically a teetotaler.
She saw a few cowboys scattered here and there in various ranch activities but didn’t notice Carson or Sam among them.
Once the animals were taken care of, how did the men spend their time? It wasn’t like they had to babysit the horses their entire shift, was it? The animals had to sleep, after all.
When did a night wrangler’s shift begin, exactly? It was hard to keep up with Carson and Sam. They were up and around the ranch breaking and shoeing horses and participating in the Old West town exhibitions, among other ranch events, during the day as well as the night.
When did they sleep?
Desiree gathered her courage and on impulse headed toward the tree line and the woods beyond it. Carson and Sam had been coming from that direction, wet and shirtless, the night she had had one of her wolf dreams. How could she forget that part? Maia certainly hadn’t let her live it down yet.
What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing?
If her wolves did exist, this would certainly be the place to encounter them, wouldn’t it, in the woods, marking their territory? Would they dare venture this close to the ranch, and if they did, wouldn’t someone have noticed them by now?
Desiree paused just beyond the tree line, wondering how far in she dared go. She was a city girl at heart, concrete jungle running through her veins, and she hadn’t yet gotten used to all this surrounding nature. She wondered if she ever would.
Maia, Ms. Nature Girl herself, was in her element, loved all the trees and blue sky and mountains. She said it helped her get more in touch with her spiritual self and closer to her art. The girl had done more sketching and painting in the last several months than she had in years living in New York, where she’d pretty much given up her art for her job at a niche boutique that specialized in everything Wiccan, the closest thing she could get to a “suffocating nine-to-five,” as Maia called it. To which Desiree would always remind her, it paid the bills.
“Leave it to Ms. Practical to make that observation.”
She and Maia would never see eye to eye on anything, and Desiree had given up trying.
Damn, when she took a chance and followed her impulses, she just went hog wild, didn’t she, roaming around out here all alone, at dusk, in the woods. At least Maria and Maia knew where she had gone, well, a general location. It wasn’t like she was leaving the property.
Still, the property itself was sprawling and the woods were dense, a lot denser than she had thought they would be, and dark, even at this hour. Something could be lurking behind any one of those bushes or trees ahead of her.
She was really acting like a TSTL, Too-Stupid-To-Live, heroine from one of the romance novels she loved to read whenever she got a chance, or a slasher-movie scream queen, flashlight in tow and all. Now she understood how some of those characters and heroines got into the predicaments they did. Hormones and lust didn’t make for common sense.
Desiree stepped on a branch at the same instant that she heard a growl sounding from several yards in front of her.
Maybe it was someone else stepping on a branch. Maybe that’s what she had heard, someone else wandering around in the woods at exactly the same time as she.
What about that growl?
Desiree switched on the flashlight and aimed the beam in front of her. The shaft of light was bright, bless Maia’s heart, but not that wide-ranging. “Hello? Is someone there?” Carson was right. She was an idiot.
Time to turn around and rejoin civiliza—
Desiree froze. Something rustled in the trees just up ahead. Her first instinct was to run, but she didn’t want to turn her back on whatever was behind that tree to do it. Wasn’t that committing some sort of fatal error in the presence of a predator, turning one’s back? Sounded familiar, like something she’d heard and seen on one of her favorite nature shows on Animal Planet or the Discovery Channel.
Now she understood why some of the ranch hands carried the .22 caliber “varmint” rifle. She’d heard it was for hazards like rattlesnakes, coyotes, or rabid skunks. When ranch hands were closer to the wilderness they carried higher caliber rifles to fend off larger predators like mountain lions.
Hmm, which did she prefer being attacked by—mountain lion, wolf, or coyote? Or better, a poisonous snake or rabid skunk? If she did survive the latter, she’d have to get a series of vaccinations to make sure she didn’t die an agonizing, slow death, unless some brave soul caught and tested the offending critter and got a negative result from a lab.
Desiree shuddered at the thought of how the test for rabies was performed. She’d heard they had to euthanize the offending animal and remove its head—poor thing. She wasn’t the nature and animal lover that her sister was, but the idea of cutting off Pepé Le Pew’s head didn’t sit too well with her.
The flashlight didn’t come anywhere close to the protection of a rifle, but Desiree clutched it tighter just in case.
She heard another rustle, and this time she didn’t think twice, she just turned and ran.
Breath hitching and chest beginning to burn, she panicked when she didn’t reach the tree line as fast as she thought she should.
Had she come that far into the woods, or had she gotten turned around that quickly?
She took a chance to glance over her shoulder to see who was following her—or more likely what—
and slammed face-first into a hard wall of muscles when she faced forward.
Desiree screamed.
The flashlight clattered to the ground, but it lit up the area enough for her to see who she had crashed into.
“What the hell are you doing running around out here all by yourself?” Carson caught her around the biceps to steady her, and Desiree cringed.
He wasn’t hurting her, but she was just waiting for him to call her an idiot again.
Chapter 8
Desiree lifted her chin. “I didn’t know I needed a chaperone to walk the grounds.”
“You’re not exactly on the grounds now, are you?” It took everything in Carson not to bend his head and kiss that proud, defiant expression right off her face, especially when he knew the girl was scared to death but endeavoring to hide her fear. She couldn’t hide that shudder, though, the one he felt riding her body as she tried to break his hold.
Shit, he was hard and getting harder by the minute. The longer he held onto her the more her vanilla musk affected him. The fragrance was like an erotic smoke signal wafting around his head.
He’d scented her as soon as she’d entered the woods, not far behind him and Sam.
Sam had already shifted and Carson had been about to do the same when he’d sensed her behind them. He told Sam to go ahead to the stream and that he’d catch up. Sam had gone, but reluctantly.
How much had Desiree seen before she went crashing toward the clearing and into him? How much had she heard? Would she be as calm in his grasp right now had she witnessed Sam’s change? “You didn’t answer my question, woman.”
“I didn’t know you were the keeper of the woods.”
Carson gritted his teeth. “Desiree—”
“I was just taking a walk, man. Now let me go!”
Carson released her at the same instant she jerked away from him, and Desiree stumbled against a nearby tree. He started toward her and she put up her palm facing him in a stop sign.
“I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
“What were you thinking, coming out here alone?”
“You’re out here alone.”
“I know my way around.”
“I’m so glad you said that, and not that you’re a man.”
“That was next.” Carson tried not to smirk, but when he saw the fire lighting Desiree’s whiskey eyes, he couldn’t help one corner of his mouth twitching.
“You bastard.” She swung out those small fists, and damn did they pack a wallop when they found their target smack in the middle of his chest. He was lucky she didn’t still have the flashlight in her hand.
Carson caught her wrists, pulled her against him, and Desiree buried her face against his shirtfront. When her shoulders started to shake, Carson panicked, almost felt like cutting and running. He didn’t do well with tears, hated to hear or see a woman cry. It remained the reason he was in trouble now and his family on the run. He’d take a bloody battle to the death against another shifter over seeing a woman cry.
When Desiree pulled her face away from his chest, though, she was smiling, and he realized she wasn’t crying angry or crying sad, but crying laughing.
“Inside joke?”
“I’m an idiot, okay? There. Figure I’d beat you to the punch.”
“You’re not an idiot. A little misguided, maybe…”
“Same difference. Look it up in any thesaurus.”
Carson chuckled, put a finger under her chin, and lifted her face to meet his. When he got a look at those wide, innocent eyes it made him wonder at her age. He knew she was older than him by a few years, but she struck him as so inexperienced and sheltered. Maybe it was the image of an inexperienced city slicker losing her way in the unfamiliar wild. To someone used to the bright lights of a big city that never slept, a Colorado ranch could be something of a culture shock and enough to unravel sensibilities.
He’d like to think he was enough to unravel her sensibilities.
Carson leaned forward and paused right before he made contact with her lips. “I want you,” he murmured and continued his descent, not giving her a chance to agree or debate. He just dove into the sweetness of her full lips, lightly licking then nipping the lower, slightly fuller, one, coaxing, seducing. When she finally opened her mouth to him, he swooped in, thrusting his tongue to taste her fully. He stroked inside her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers in a daring, sensual quest for control, and Desiree gave it up.
She lifted and coiled one leg around his thigh, arching her hips, rubbing her cunt against him as she moaned deep in her throat.
Carson pressed her back against the tree, grinding his shaft into the heat of her jeans, putting pressure right on the spot where he estimated her tight, swollen clit to be.
“Oh, God…Carson!” She shuddered against him as if in the throes of an orgasm. “Too much. It’s too much!”
He slid a hand between their bodies and found her crotch. He massaged her pussy with his fingers, itching to slide them into her wet heat, needing to feel her inner muscles closing around him when he fucked her.
“Please, please…”
His cock throbbed in his jeans as he laid her down in the dirt and went to work on the button and zipper of her jeans. When he jerked them down, panties and all, something must have snapped in the woman as surely as it had snapped in him.
“Don’t, Carson, no!”
Her voice was urgent, shaky, and he jerked up his head from what he was doing to look at her panic-stricken face.
Damn, he could almost taste her cream, her arousal a pungent, sweet aroma filling his lungs. What now?
“Please stop,” she whispered.
He looked at her, her eyes closed tight, her hands fisted against her chest as if to keep something or someone out.
Who had hurt her? Who?
“C’mere,” he growled and pulled her to sit on his lap as he folded his legs and sat back against the tree.
“Don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not.” He pushed her soft bangs away from her face with an unsteady hand before pulling her against him. The maneuver proved a big mistake because it only made him hard again, not that he’d had a chance to get soft, not around Desiree.
Down, boy, down! Not now.
Sam burst through the trees and skidded to a stop in front of them. “What the hell?”
“She’s okay.”
“I heard her scream.”
He hoped no one else had. They’d think the same thing Sam probably had, that Desiree had been attacked. He, Sam, and their mother all had enough trouble in their lives already without bringing more unwanted, negative attention like that to them all.
Carson glanced up and caught Sam’s questioning look and shrugged as he stood with Desiree in his arms. He held her against him for a while. Her arms draped around his neck felt so right he didn’t want to put her down, but he knew he had to.
Carson let her slide down his body until her feet touched the ground. He had the sweetest flashback to when he’d held her against him after she fell off his horse. He, unfortunately, had to breach the illusion or risk falling further under her spell. He pushed her toward his brother and Desiree immediately buried her face in Sam’s chest. “Take her home.”
“What happened?”
“Just do it.”
Sam caught her by the shoulders and put her away from him a bit. “Are you okay?”
“I told you she was.”
“I want to hear it from her.”
“You think I hurt her?”
Sam pointedly looked at her tearstained face and then down at the snug jeans hanging half off her ass. He looked at his brother as he tugged her jeans and panties back up on her hips before zipping and buttoning them up.
Carson raked a hand through his hair and released a string of patois curses before he pointed a finger at Sam, stabbing the air like a knife with each word that flew out of his mouth. “You know me better than that, Samson!” He stomped off toward the woods and a
fter several steps turned back and glared at his brother one more time. “Goddammit, after what happened…you damn well know me.”
* * * *
“It’s not his fault, Sam. He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t do anything. He just…I’m just…Can you take me home now, please?”
“Anything,” he said, meaning it. Sam took her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze as he led her back toward the clearing.
She didn’t say anything more as they walked, and Sam didn’t know what to say to ease the tension. He knew that he had royally fucked up things with his brother and that he would have to go about making things right with Carson eventually. Now, though, Desiree was his primary concern, getting her home safe and making her comfortable, especially in his company.
When he thought of all the things that she could have encountered out here instead of him and Carson, it scared the crap out of him. Didn’t she know about all the varmints—large and small—that could have gotten her? They’d had a particular problem with raccoons and skunks in the area lately. When he and Carson weren’t busy playing and fighting at the stream, they prowled the grounds on their own personal mission of animal control. He didn’t even want to mention to Desiree all the things that roamed around out here and scare the girl worse than he knew she already was.
“I hadn’t realized I’d gone this far in,” she murmured beside him, almost as if she’d heard his thoughts as they finally neared the tree line.
“It’s easy to get turned around in here if you don’t know where you’re going.”
“I should have dropped some breadcrumbs behind me, huh?”
“Or brought a compass.”
“Never been too good at reading those. I wasn’t the best Brownie.”
Sam chuckled. “I wasn’t a Boy Scout, either.”
She paused then and squeezed his hand. “Really?”
“Not in the slightest.” He grinned and thought he could have added he wasn’t a Boy Scout now, nowhere near. A Boy Scout wouldn’t be thinking about throwing her down in the dirt and plundering her pussy right here until she screamed his name. A Boy Scout wouldn’t be as hard in his jeans as Sam was, just staring at her lips and wondering how they’d taste or feel wrapped around his cock. A Boy Scout certainly wouldn’t be wondering what her cocotte tasted like, how it would feel tightening around his shaft when she came.
