The drought ravaging the south end of the province showed no signs of letting up. He couldn’t do anything for her wheat crop. It was probably only good for straw at this point. But he could try and help with her new orchard just as her boarder had. Wade could understand why the young cowboy was smitten with Wendy, willing to risk his health to make her proud. She was an enigma of a woman with delicate beauty and a vibrant inner strength.
As soon as the men showed up with the water truck, he waved out his window for them to follow. He drove his pickup up the dirt road to the next ranch over. Wade wasn’t sure how Wendy would take his presence, but she’d accept his help whether she liked it or not. The woman was too stubborn for her own good.
He spotted her truck as he pulled up to her ranch, another one, too, probably the boarder’s. It did give him a dose of possessiveness knowing another man was living under her roof, able to be close to her each day. Both things he coveted. The water truck pulled up alongside him. It had been a miracle he was able to get the service in the first place. They were booked solid thanks to the drought, and the price was a testament to the demand.
“The orchard’s about half a mile out. We’ll take the path along the left side of the house,” he said to the passenger of the five-ton truck. He continued on ahead, wondering how long until Wendy showed up raising hell for his interference.
When they reached their destination, he stepped out of his truck as the men got to work. The trees would get a good watering, and God willing they’d get rain within a week. He’d never seen the orchard until now. It amazed him knowing Wendy single-handedly planted every tree. She was one of a kind, doing things most men couldn’t accomplish on their own. She’d make a fine wife if only she’d open herself up to the possibility.
Just as he’d suspected, Wendy was on their tail. A horse riding toward him stirred up dust as it galloped along. The land resembled a desert, and it would only take one careless spark to set acres of land into an inferno. As the horse neared, he noticed Wendy’s blonde hair loosely fluttering behind her. His heart skipped a beat when she was close enough for him to see the blue of her eyes.
“What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing, Laweson?” She dismounted before coming to a full stop, a regular cowgirl in the saddle.
“Doing what you should have let me do weeks ago.”
She took a few steps forward, looking around the orchard, and sizing up the noisy truck which left an unattractive path through her property.
“A watering truck? I can’t pay for this.”
“I’m paying.”
“Why?” She still looked genuinely clueless as to why he’d offer to help her.
“Because neighbors help out neighbors when they need it, and because I’ve been trying to get through to you since I moved in next door.”
As she watched the water freely flowing through the orchard, her eyes mirrored the shimmering liquid. “You didn’t have to do this,” she murmured.
He closed the distance between them and pulled her close. She melted against his frame when he fully expected her to bolt away. “I want to help.”
“You have no idea what this orchard means to me. It’s something I started on my own, and it wasn’t easy. To see it all turn to firewood would have been too much.”
“It’s been a wicked year for farming. We have to stick together in times like these.”
She looked up at him, her forearms resting on his chest as he held her. “Have you helped all your other neighbors in the same way?”
He smirked. “Maybe not quite as much.”
“Well, thank you. I probably would have refused your help if you’d asked, so I’m glad you came.”
“You need to stop that, Wendy. I want you to use me.” In every possible way. He dreamt of Wendy half the night most nights, and she invaded his thoughts during the day. His goal was to garner her attention, get her to realize they were perfect for each other. How long until she admitted there were sparks between them? The corn roasts, the hay rides, the random encounters in town. For years he’d built up his respect and attraction for the widow. So close, but so far out of reach.
“What if I’m scared?”
“It’s only natural, baby doll. New things don’t automatically mean they’re bad though.”
She played with the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t have anything to offer you, Wade.”
* * * *
Wendy still couldn’t understand why a wealthy, irresistibly handsome rancher like Wade Laweson would waste his energy on a woman like her. Though she did savor his attention. He made her feel young, special, beautiful. He was pure strength—from his physical body, to his power in the community, to the way he spoke.
“Why would you say that? Because you don’t have money to burn? I have enough of that, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” He tilted her chin up. “I’ve never met a stronger woman.” Then he whispered, “And you’re prettier than a summer rose.”
She closed her eyes, savoring the sweet words, praying they were true. After chiding her girls anytime they trusted a man, teaching them not to believe a word they spoke, she began to believe it all herself. Her intention was to keep her girls safe. They didn’t have a protective father watching over them, and she wanted to make sure they never got hurt by a man.
But surely there were good men out there—like Wade and Jackson. Her heart plummeted when she thought of her boarder, busily working on her barn roof. She’d insisted for him not to do her work for her, but he was mulish, not listening to her protests. It had been an arousing sight watching Jackson shirtless and sweat glistened on his hands and knees, hammering away on the roof.
How could she love two men? Each day it seemed she gave them each another piece of her heart until they’d soon own a half. But that wasn’t fair to either of them.
She wasn’t expecting Wade to kiss her, but he did. With his finger still under her chin, he pressed his lips to hers. His were thick and warm, pleasant as they brushed against hers. The arm around her tightened, bringing the length of her body flush with his. She could feel the rigid line of his cock against her stomach, reminding her that despite being older than Jackson, Wade was a virile, healthy man.
“I love your lips, darlin’.” He deepened their kiss, his mouth parting slightly. She savored this new intimacy, Wade’s erotic domination. How far would he go? Had he dreamt of fucking her, of doing illicit things to her body like Jackson had? Just thinking about it made her pussy moisten. She felt wanton whenever in the presence of these two men, as if they both held the key to her libido.
He entered her mouth with his tongue, and her eyes rolled back in her head as he claimed her. She joined him, tasting, sucking, and kissing with all the passion she’d stifled over the years. How many times had she wanted to say yes, but instead pushed him away? Wendy thought she was doing the right thing for herself and her children, keeping her role as respectable widow intact. Now she realized she couldn’t ignore the woman forever. Her children were grown, the last leaving soon. Then what? She had no passion for her wheat, having burnt herself out over the years. It was only one headache after the other and too much work for her to handle on her own. She only farmed it out of necessity. It had been her only source of income for as long as she could remember.
The sound of the water pump died off, bringing them back to reality. She could have stayed in Wade’s arms forever, kissing him, wrapped in his protective embrace.
“Looks like the job’s done,” said one of the workers.
“Thanks again for squeezing me in,” said Wade. “I certainly appreciate it.”
The other man nodded his head and boarded the water truck. Once they were alone in the orchard, no prying eyes or distractions, he smiled at her. He looked so much younger when he smiled, a cute dimple deep in his cheek. “I should get you back to the house before I forget I’m a gentleman.”
“What if I don’t want you to be?” she dared.
He froze, his gaze
roaming over her body like a warm caress. Everywhere his eyes met burned her flesh with the strength of the sun. “Then I’d show you how a man should pleasure a woman. I’d take my time with you, attend every inch of your body.”
She could barely breathe. Never in her life had she spoken like this, talked about sex with another man. It felt wrong, but also the most titillating thing she’d ever done. “Have you had many women?”
“Enough to learn what makes them beg for more.”
“Like what?” Her pussy pulsed and tingled, her heartbeat deafening in her ears. She was losing her inhibitions by the second.
Wade smirked as he led her to his truck. “I’ll tell you a little secret,” he whispered in her ear as he turned her to face the side of his pickup. His breath was warm and tantalizing against her neck. “I can make you come with just my fingers. Do you want to know what that feels like?”
Normally she’d cringe at the crudeness of his words, but she’d started this, wanted it. She nodded, entering new territory and not knowing what to expect. Wade leaned against her back, pressing her to the cool metal of his quad cab. She rested her cheek against the glass of the window as he snaked his hands around her to unzip her jeans. Her heart beat so fast she swore it would pound right out of her chest.
“Relax, darlin’. Lord knows I’d never do a thing to hurt you.”
Wendy believed him. After all these years of trying, he never lost patience, never gave up. If he was only after one thing, he would have given up long ago.
Wade slipped his hand in her pants as slowly as melting wax. Every cell came to life as he reached lower, his rough fingers grazing her silky skin as he slipped under the lip of her panties. She gasped as he cupped her mound. He was in complete control, and she was willing, finally reaching that point in her life where she needed to submit. Her tough veneer was just that, a facade that was too difficult to keep in place with so many worries weighing down on her. But thoughts of Kylie’s bad choices, her scorched wheat, and budding feelings for two men were only an afterthought as she braced herself against the truck.
He tongued the shell of her ear as he began to rub slow circles around her clit. She sunk, her knees weak, but he held her in place. The warm breeze fluttered her hair, reminding her they were out in the open. He was relentless, continuing to arouse her with just those two skilled fingers.
He ground his steely erection against her back with a growl. “With just my fingers,” he reminded. Then he reached lower into her jeans and impaled those two digits into her cunt. The pressure and fullness, even if slight, brought her sweet relief. She knew what she needed now. After all these long, lonely, dry years, Wendy needed to be fucked. As much as it felt foreign, as much as it hurt, she needed to move on.
“Wade!” she cried out. He thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy while stimulating her clit with his thumb. She’d expect him to have a cramp by now, but he was ruthless, untiring.
“I want to touch you so bad,” he murmured. “You have no idea the things I’d love to do to your gorgeous body.” Wade continued to roll her clit until her body burned for release. “But I told you I’d make you come with just my fingers, and I always keep my promises.”
She didn’t want him to keep them in this case. Wendy wanted him to give her everything—his kiss, his touch, his cock…maybe even his love. “Maybe you should stop,” she managed to say between breaths. She was so close to losing precious control. It would be intense to orgasm against the side of his pickup with his fingers impaled in her pussy. He’d always known her as a strong woman, and she’d never given in to his advances. Any second and she’d be putty in his hands, weak in his eyes. Why did she care so much what he thought of her?
“You’ve got to be joking, darlin’. I can feel your little pearl pulsing under my thumb. You won’t last more than a minute.”
How did he know that? She was fighting not to come, focusing on the pleasure and not the finish line. But Wade always got what he wanted in the end, even her heart it seemed.
He curled his fingers ever so slightly, hitting a G-spot she never knew existed. She gasped as liquid heat seeped from her body, and a great eruption of power and heat detonated in her core. Her pussy grasped Wade’s fingers, squeezing them as her contractions rode on and on before finally easing. Wendy was spineless, breathless, her mind in a sex-induced haze.
“Now just imagine what I could do with more than two fingers.”
Chapter Eight
Wendy had been avoiding him when he finally felt a closeness between them. He thought things would move to the next step, and he’d even given serious thought to the future. If need be he’d leave the rodeo, settle down and farm like a family man. Anything to make Wendy happy. Jackson knew he couldn’t keep up his lifestyle forever unless he wanted to meet an early grave. The rodeo was for young men with a death wish, not men who wanted forever with one special woman.
He came home late one evening, expecting to head straight to bed, but was greeted with hollering as soon as he neared the house. Jackson opened the door, the soft light from the kitchen illuminating the hallway. He slipped off his vest and hung it on the coat tree.
“Do you think I want this for you? All the sacrifices I’ve made and you treat your life with such disregard?” Wendy was shouting loud enough to ring in his ears. She was usually a quiet, thoughtful woman, not easy to rile.
“I love him!” screamed Kylie.
“You don’t! You’re obsessed, lookin’ for love where you have no right. If your father were here he’d never—”
“Well he ain’t here. He never will be here either!”
He heard a smack and then Wendy rushed out into the hall, colliding with him before he reached the kitchen. She looked up at him briefly, but continued to storm off to her room and slam the door shut. Jackson would have to find out what was going on, but he figured she’d benefit with a few minutes on her own first.
He entered the kitchen. Kylie was hunched over the wooden table, crying into her folded arms. Her back convulsed in deep waves. It was usually Christine at home most evenings, not Kylie. But he’d still gotten to know her since moving in.
“You all right?”
She shook her head, not looking up.
“Come on now. I’m not your mother. You can talk to me, and it may just make you feel better.”
Kylie said nothing, but lifted her head to look at him. Her right eye was purple and swollen shut, obviously from being hit by a man. “Who the fuck did that to you? Was it that clown Jason?”
“He didn’t mean it,” she said.
“The fuck he didn’t.” He grabbed a wooden chair and twisted it around, straddling it so he could face her. “Darlin’, real men don’t hit women. Cowboys know better if they were raised proper. He should never have put his filthy hands on you.”
“It was my fault. I wanted him to take me to a party, but he wanted to go out with his friends.”
He clenched his jaw, trying to hold on to his temper when it was threatening to take over. While he had a daddy, he was taught how to respect a woman. His mother was always kindhearted and loving to him, and Jackson could never tolerate other men abusing any woman. “Where’s he at?”
“Why?”
“You best tell me, girl. One phone call and I can find out anyway.”
She cried harder, shaking her head back and forth. “Jackson, please. Don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it.”
“Where?” he demanded, deepening his tone.
She reluctantly gave him the address where he could find the punk. Jason was Kylie’s age, a twenty-two-year-old loser going nowhere fast. Now that he’d added beating women to his résumé, Jackson would show him what it felt like to be picked on by someone bigger than him. Even though nothing had been cemented, especially as of late, he considered Wendy his woman. It was his responsibility to make things right for her.
He grabbed his vest and dug in his pocket for his truck keys. Wendy came out of her room, her eyes red rimme
d, as he opened the main door to leave. He met her gaze, and time seemed to stand still for those few seconds. She’d try and stop him, so he left without a word.
* * * *
“Where’s he going?” Wendy asked her daughter. Kylie had made foolish choices against her better judgement, but Jackson was innocent in it all. If he was going where she suspected, he was in danger.
“You know where. Down to Lackey’s River to find Jason.” She started to cry again, sulking like a small child.
“Who are you worried about? Jason or Jackson?”
“Jason, of course! Jackson will rip him to pieces, or didn’t you notice the size of him? Who the hell does he think he is anyway?”
Wendy slapped her open palm on the table. “Bite your tongue, young lady! Jackson’s off to a certain death sentence. Jason’s not alone at the river. He’ll be plastered drunk with half a dozen other no-good losers.”
Kylie’s demeanour shifted, her fear becoming concern. She pressed her lips into a straight line, but knew enough to keep her mouth shut.
With the sun set, her sense of urgency increased. Wendy’s mind raced, processing thoughts and solutions at an alarming rate. She snatched her keys off the hook in the kitchen. “Stay inside and lock the doors. Put some frozen peas in an ice bag and lie down until I get home. I’ll let the dogs out when I leave.”
“You’re not going after him, Ma?”
“No, but I’m getting help.”
Wendy drove without caution, her truck bounding over the rough dirt road. The headlights wavered with each dip, only giving her a partial view of the road in front of her. As her body jostled in the old pickup, all she could think about was Jackson heading into a death trap. Those Cavenish boys and their friends were trouble and then some.
Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 7
