Turn and Burn_A Blacktop Cowboys Novel

by Lorelei James

  She felt all eyes on them.

  Tobin laughed and his gaze met Hugh’s. “Now it makes sense.”

  Hugh nodded.

  Harlow grinned and raised her bottle in a silent toast.

  Dave and Yvette just looked at each other with a knowing smile.

  “So, busy night at the lodge bar?” Tobin asked.

  “Crazy busy. This group likes to drink. After I finally kicked them out, they headed to the Buckeye. Their pregnant DD didn’t want to go, but none of them were sober enough to drive.” She looked at Yvette. “I don’t envy the mess you’ll deal with tomorrow. But I’m betting it’d be safe for you to sleep in because none of them are gonna leave their rooms very early.”

  Yvette shrugged. “They’ve been decent so far. Family reunions aren’t nearly as wild as college reunions.”

  Tobin groaned. “Don’t remind me. Last year the University of Wyoming’s rodeo team held their twenty-year class reunion here. Not only did them guys demand rough stock competitions every day, they partied hard afterward. I swear there was wife swapping goin’ on. Me’n Hugh had to take turns acting as security guards because we caught couples goin’ at it everywhere. Doin’ it in the laundry room. Another couple was making carpet angels right in front of the fireplace in the main room.” He nudged Hugh with his knee. “But your discovery was the best. Tell ’em.”

  “I had a colicky horse in the barn so I did a final check before bed. I heard the damndest noise. In the last stall I saw the former Miss Rodeo Wyoming on her knees . . . ah, servicing the former All-Around cowboy, while her husband watched and cracked a bullwhip.”

  Harlow’s eyes grew wide. “Omigod. Did you intervene? Did he plan on using the bullwhip on her?”

  “For all I know, he might’ve been warming it up for the guy to use it on him. None of my business either way, as long as they weren’t messing with my livestock. Different strokes for different folks.”

  Fletch laughed and Hugh grinned.

  Holy crap. Hugh had a beautiful smile. First time Tanna had ever seen it from the gruff-natured foreman.

  “I ain’t the type to one-up ya,” Dave said, “but I saw the champion tie-down ropers showing off their rope skills . . . not on a calf. But I gotta admit the woman they had trussed up sure sounded like she was enjoying herself. Gives new visuals for the terms header and heeler.”

  The guys laughed.

  Harlow said, “Bullcrap,” with a sneer. “That sounds like something you guys made up, doesn’t it, Tanna?”

  “Nope. Sounds like a typical Saturday night on the rodeo circuit to me.”

  More laughter.

  “You saw wild things like that?” Harlow said with disbelief.

  “Darlin’, I participated in those wild things and then some. Heck, I acted as ringleader most of the time.”

  “So the rumors I’ve heard about what goes on on the road are true?” Tobin asked.

  “Completely true. And usually toned down in the retelling.” She swallowed another drink of beer and looked at Hugh. “You’ve hauled stock to rodeos all over the country. Tell Miss Chicago over there we aren’t exaggerating about what goes on behind the chutes.”

  “No, ma’am, we are not.”

  Harlow still didn’t look convinced. “These women are so hot to get with a cowboy that they just let these guys rope them up? Who likes that sort of thing?”

  Tanna raised her hand.

  The guys chuckled and Fletch made a growling noise in her ear that traveled straight to her core.

  “It ain’t only girls who like that sorta kinky thing,” Hugh said. “A few years ago, I’d forgotten some paperwork, so I had to go back to the rodeo grounds after everyone had left. Or so I thought. I heard whack whack whack. Naturally I got a little closer to the noises and I saw this couple banging by the buckin’ chutes. The guy’s jeans were around his boots and he’s got the woman pinned against the corral, goin’ to town on her. Then I heard whack whack whack again and realized she was smacking his ass with a ridin’ crop. Them barrel racers got a serious thing about getting their money’s worth outta their crops.”

  “Hey, I didn’t think anyone was around that night,” Tanna protested. “That was a private moment.”

  Everyone laughed again.

  Tobin shook his head. “I knew I shoulda joined rodeo club instead of chess club.”

  “Chess is much more civilized,” Harlow assured him. “And I’m sure you’d never misuse your knowledge of ropes and stuff to hold a woman against her will.”

  “Don’t be too sure about that.”

  Harlow looked at Hugh. “What about you, Grumpy?”

  Hugh leaned back and cocked his head, measuring Harlow from head to toe. “I’ve been complimented on my tie-down skills a time or two. Never had a lady complain or try to get away.”

  Harlow’s mouth fell open.

  Hugh, who laughed as rarely as he smiled, emitted the sexiest and most evil-sounding laugh Tanna had ever heard. “Don’t knock it ’til you try it, hippie-girl. And if you wanna try it sometime . . . all’s you gotta do is ask me real nicely.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Harlow retorted.

  Tanna wondered how much Hugh had been drinking. He never gave in to Harlow’s taunts. Poor girl should’ve known better than to poke the bear. It’s the quiet ones you had to worry about.

  “And with that . . .” Dave and Yvette said good night.

  She took another drink of beer and set the bottle on the ground.

  Fletch caressed her arm and murmured, “Tired?”

  “Yeah. Working and today’s physical therapy session was killer.” He’d kept his promise to make sure she did her PT at least every other day.

  He gently draped her legs off to the side of his chair, curling her body into his. He kissed the top of her head. “Rest your eyes for a bit.”

  She nestled her face into his warm neck. He smelled so good. She’d never been with a man who coddled her like Fletch did and she liked it way more than she wanted to admit. When she sighed softly, his hold on her tightened.

  He and Tobin and Hugh talked livestock stuff that would’ve lulled her to sleep if she hadn’t already been halfway there. She wasn’t the type to doze off in a man’s arms in public, but the deep cadence of his voice soothed her. Rather than question her sudden, uncharacteristic reaction to this man, she just accepted it.

  Sweet kisses roused her, followed by sweeter words. “Wake up, sleeping gorgeous.”

  “But I’m so comfy. You make an awesome pillow.”

  “I’ll let you sleep on me all night.” His warm mouth grazed her ear. “Come to bed with me, sugar twang.”

  “Okay.” The sleep haze lingered and she fought the pull back into slumber.

  Fletch stood, keeping her enfolded in his arms, cradled to his chest. “Thanks for the beer and the company, Tobin. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Tobin chuckled. “I’ll be surprised if I see you before noon. God knows I wouldn’t get outta bed if I had her in it.”

  “Point taken. See ya next year.”

  Tanna smiled against Fletch’s chest.

  The night air had bite and she shivered.

  “Almost there. Hold on.” He opened and closed the doors and set her down in the bedroom doorway.

  “Sweet Lord. What in God’s name is that?”

  “You were busy this afternoon when they delivered my new bed.”

  She blinked and couldn’t believe her eyes. “This mattress takes up the whole room.”

  “California King, baby. A double bed kills my back and my feet hang off the end.”

  “You’d really suffer if we had to sleep on the bed in my horse trailer.”

  “I’d never use the word suffer when bein’ in a bed with you.”

  “Are you just leaving the bed here when your
sabbatical is up?”

  Standing behind her, he nuzzled the side of her neck as his fingers worked the buttons on her blouse. “No. My guest room will get an upgrade.”

  “Lucky guests.”

  “Won’t matter. I never have guests anyway.” He tugged the blouse down her arms and tossed it aside. Followed by her bra. “You still tired?”

  “He asks with fake concern, as he’s stripping my clothes off.”

  Fletch chuckled. “You caught me. But all that talk of ropes and spankings got me hot and bothered. Plus, we need to christen the bed with smokin’-hot sex before we sleep on it or we’ll have bad sex in it.”

  Tanna snorted. “That is a load of crap.”

  “No, I heard that from an Indian mystic, so it has to be true.” He placed his hands on her hips and his thumbs stroked her bare belly. “So, what do you say?”

  “Well,” she forced a yawn, “if you can promise me this christening won’t take long, so I can get some shut-eye, then I suppose I’m game.”

  “You . . . suppose?” He pushed her on the bed. She landed face-first and as soon as she scrambled around, he depanted her. He shucked his clothes and jumped beside her, but she barely bounced—which said a lot about the quality of the mattress.

  Then his mouth reclaimed possession of hers, his fingers dove between her legs. Teasing her clit until it spasmed beneath his stroking thumb. Fletch fucked her with two fingers while sucking on her nipples. He’d turned her inside out in such a short amount of time that her thighs were sticky and her need for him was a physical ache.

  He paused in his erotic torment only to roll on a condom. He pinned her arms above her head and impaled her.

  Tanna’s moan was lost in his hungry mouth. He fucked her relentlessly with a sort of mad finesse. Pushing her to the tipping point and backing off—three times. By the time he whispered, “Come for me, Tanna,” her body was damp with sweat, her legs shook and she gasped with each pounding thrust as she unraveled.

  Afterward, she lay trapped beneath his big body, listening to his stuttered breaths. Then he brushed kisses on her forehead down to the shiver inducing section of skin in front of her ear. “Sorry, darlin’, that took a little longer than I thought. But I suppose,” he blew in her ear, “that those loud moans meant you didn’t mind losing a little sleep.”

  “Such a bratty, cocky man.”

  “You hate that I’m always right.”

  “Always? In your dreams.”

  Fletch ditched the condom and crawled back in bed. “Speaking of dreams . . . now you can use me as a pillow and get some shut-eye.”

  Tanna snuggled into him, content on too many levels to count. “Okay. But don’t let me sleep late. I have to go to Eli’s in the morning.”

  “Don’t worry; I make an excellent alarm clock.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  After a restless night filled with dreams of her mother, mixed with nightmares about Jezebel, she’d awoken in a cold sweat, her body shaking so hard she feared it’d wake Fletch. She’d managed to calm down on the drive to Eli’s, cranking the tunes and singing along at the top of her lungs—her personal type of scream therapy.

  At Eli’s she watched as he trained with a bulldogger. Summer worked the chute, releasing the steer. Eli served as the guy’s hazer, racing out on horseback on the right side of the bulldogger, keeping the bulldogger’s horse in line with the steer until the moment the steer wrestler hung off the right stirrup with one toe and launched himself off. Skidding in the dirt, the bulldogger grabbed the steer by the head and flipped it on its side.

  Dust flew and the bulldogger got up and squinted at the chute.

  Summer yelled out, “Five point six two, but you broke the barrier.”

  “Dammit.”

  Eli held the reins for the bulldogger’s horse and waited for him to trot to the end of the arena. He pushed the steer through the back gate before he mounted up. The guys were lost in conversation and hadn’t noticed her, so Tanna didn’t interrupt.

  They exited the arena, returned to the chutes and did the practice run four more times until Summer was out of steers. Something about the bulldogger seemed familiar. His fluidity on his horse, the determination in his repeated attempts. She’d eat her hat if the guy wasn’t a pro. She couldn’t see his face, but like most bulldoggers, he was a substantial guy.

  Not as big as Fletch, but few guys were as supersized as the veterinarian.

  Finally Eli sauntered over, talking animatedly to his bulldogging buddy. But Summer yelled at the mysterious guy and Eli cut toward her.

  “Hey, Tanna, how long’ve you been here?” Eli asked.

  “A while. I thought I’d get an early start on whatever torture you had planned for me today.”

  Eli laughed. “I haven’t planned nothin’. To be honest, I musta got my days mixed up. I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”

  “Really?” That explained the bulldogger.

  “But as long as you’re here, got someone I want you to meet.” He whistled loudly and the guy started toward them.

  The bulldogger kept his eyes on the dirt as he wandered over. He raised his head. Beneath the brim of his hat was one of the most beautiful men Tanna had ever seen.

  Holy. Fuck. Somehow she kept her tongue in her mouth when the guy thrust out his hand.

  “Tanna Barker, right? I’m Sutton Grant.”

  His gigantic hand dwarfed hers. “Hi, Sutton. Good to meet you.” Sutton Grant . . . why did that name sound familiar?

  “You probably don’t remember me,” Sutton said, “but we have met before.”

  Her eyes took in every detail of his stunning face. His eyes were an exotic shade of bluish-green usually seen in the water on a tropical beach. Dark eyebrows. Bone structure that might seem feminine if not for the wide expanse of his chiseled jaw and the ruggedness of his facial features as a whole. Then he smiled. Yep. He even had two dimples. “Not to contradict you off the bat, but, darlin’, I surely would’ve remembered meeting you.”

  Sutton laughed. “Probably not. I was a little shy. A little intimidated by your championship buckles and the guys flocked around you.”

  “When was this?”

  “The season after your second win. We ended up at a couple of the same meet-and-greet after events.”

  She didn’t remember all the guys she’d slept with—most of them—but there were a couple of nights where the veil of alcohol masked her hookup’s face.

  “Jeez, Tanna, you looking at him like that is making me uncomfortable,” Eli complained.

  “Sorry. I’ve had some wild times, and a few . . . ah, meet and greets that aren’t crystal clear.”

  Sutton grinned. “No worries. I would’ve been too shy to approach you anyway, even if I hadn’t been in a relationship at the time.”

  Summer shouted for Eli and he took off, leaving her and the compellingly sexy Sutton staring at each other.

  “So, are you from around here?” Tanna asked. Talk about lame.

  “No. I’m from Colorado. Eli’s been a family friend for years and he’s helping me.”

  “Helping you do what?”

  “Choose a new horse. I’ve narrowed my choices to two.”

  Finally his name clicked. “I’ve been off the circuit, but you won the CRA steer wrestling championship last year, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you in the standings this year?”

  “Third. There’s a wide gap between fourth place and the rest, so I’m feeling confident of my chances of making it to the CRA championships.” He studied her. “Are you healed up enough from your injury to compete again?”

  She shrugged. “According to my physical therapist? Yes.”

  “But?” he prompted.

  Don’t tell him. You’ll look weak. Washed up. Pathetic.

  Tanna
offered him a dazzling smile. “But nothin’—”

  Sutton put his hand on her arm, as if to assure her she didn’t have to lie to him. “Have you even been on a horse since the accident?”

  Indignant, she snapped, “Did Eli tell you—”

  “No. You know he ain’t the type to break a confidence or you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

  She shook her head.

  “I asked because I read about your wreck online. I knew you’d disappeared off the circuit for rehab. Sucks, huh?”

  “Ya think?” She bristled. “And how would you know that, youngster?”

  “I know because I’ve been there. The year you won your third championship.”

  “Sorry. I just get a little defensive when people tell me they know what I’m goin’ through. What happened to you?”

  Sutton cocked his head. “How about if we have a seat and swap stories?”

  Something about his eyes urged her to trust him. “Okay.”

  He flipped over two plastic feed buckets.

  Tanna sat, sinking her heels into the dirt and resting her forearms on her thighs. “You go first.”

  He squinted at her. “Why?”

  “Beauty before age,” she purred, “’cause, sugar, you are one hot-lookin’ speci-man and I’m your elder by at least eight years.”

  “I’m betting that cooing tone and them pretty brown eyes get you just about everything you want, don’t they?” he teased.

  She shrugged. And smirked.

  “Short version? Or long?”

  “Longer is always better.”

  He chuckled. “My story’s gonna sound tame. I grew up in a ranching family. Got bit by the rodeo bug early on. In high school I was state all-around champion. I competed with the University of Wyoming rodeo team for four years. Senior year I was collegiate steer wrestling champion.”

  Tanna whistled. “Impressive.”

  “I had a few rodeo sponsors and the blessing of my family so I decided to try my luck on the pro circuit. I did okay the first year, but I missed home and my girl, so I kept out of trouble, for the most part.”

  “Sutton, that ain’t no fun. Pining in your horse trailer instead of ripping it up?”