Dirty-Talking Cowboy--A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  Nash cocked his head. “What would that entail?”

  “Honestly, that’s for you to decide.” She shrugged. “In my mind, after the Blackshaw cowboys take the guests out to do the cattle work for the day, and then before dinner, you’d give the guests a ‘cowboy lesson,’ if they wanted one. Whether that would be roping, riding, or whatever else you can think up, I don’t know, since I’m not a cowboy and don’t really know what else you do exactly.”

  Nash folded his arms, brows drawn, pondering.

  Shep sat there dumbfound. She was brilliant. She was a fucking big deal.

  With no more papers in her hands, she turned to Shep. “And you,” she said softly, her eyes warm and intent on him. “You have two parts to play here.”

  “Go on,” he said.

  “Since you have the business experience, you’ll need to oversee that. Chase, of course, will head up construction, and his side of things, and I can help with getting a website, social media, and that kind of stuff to get the buzz out there, but you have the experience in how to run a business, so I think it only makes sense for you to hire the guest ranch employees once it’s up and running.”

  He was stuck on her including herself in the plans. But he wanted to hear her out fully. “All right, and what’s the second part?”

  “Well . . . you see . . .” She hesitated, her cheeks flushing pink. “We need someone to finance all this. It doesn’t make sense to take out a loan and go further into debt. Which means someone has to fork out the money to make this happen.”

  Shep arched a brow. “I take it that someone is me?”

  “Yup, and I kinda have that part figured out too.”

  Chase and Nash laughed. Shep smiled too. “All right, let’s hear it.”

  “You’re going to sell your house and an acre of land.”

  Shep’s brows shot up. “Am I?”

  “Yes, you are,” she said with a firm nod. “Because you’re going to use the money you get from that sale to finance this new venture.”

  Shep glanced between his brothers, finding both excitement and surprise on their faces, before turning back to Emma. “And tell me: Why would I sell my house to do this?”

  “Because for this to work, you all have to play a part,” she explained. “And if you realized that you need to depend on each other a little bit, you wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. Had your dad told you about what was going on, you could have fixed this. So we’re not going to repeat his mistakes. We’re going to take the skills we’ve got, and, yes, keep the business that was his dream, but also make sure you’re all doing what you love too. That is what your father would’ve wanted, and I know that’s what your mom wants too.” She glanced down at the floor a moment then crossed her arms, looking at them. “So, that’s basically all I’ve got.”

  Nash rose, moving to the window, looking out, pondering what she proposed. Chase stared at Emma, eyes narrowed, thoughtfully. Shep glanced down at the papers in his hands, so damn proud of her.

  “I like this idea,” Chase said eventually, breaking his silence. “At least, we should investigate further and see if it’s doable.”

  Nash glanced over his shoulder. For one second, Shep saw the brother Nash used to be. A man with a purpose. “I’m with Chase on this. I think it’s worth looking into.”

  Emma grinned, then asked Shep, “And you?”

  “It’s a really good idea, Emma.” He cocked his head, studying her, a single question echoing on his mind. “But there’s one thing you’ve left out.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If I’m selling my house and land to finance this project, then where exactly will I be living?”

  “Well, you see . . .” She glanced down at her feet again then up at him, giving him a cute smile. “I was thinking you could move in with me at the farm.”

  All the control he’d been keeping vanished. He inhaled deeply, slowly rising, the papers falling from his hand onto the floor. Emotion brought adrenaline. Intensity overwhelmed him. “Leave us,” he ordered his brothers.

  * * *

  The door shut behind a chuckling Chase and Nash, sending Emma’s belly into a full-on somersault. Shep hadn’t moved. At all. She wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He stared at her so intently the air got sucked out of the room, making Chase’s log home seem even smaller than before. “So . . .” she began, trying to break the thick silence.

  “Come here,” he said.

  She hesitated, questioning if going anywhere near him right now was wise. He looked about ready to blow his lid. “Are you mad or happy right now?” she asked. “Because I honestly can’t tell.”

  “Emma.” His voice was slow, careful, eyes glowing with intensity. “Now.”

  She cautiously stepped forward, her breath trapped in her throat. Energy bounced between them, seemingly pulling her forward. When she stopped in front of him, she glanced into all that power and managed, “I’m here.”

  He dropped his chin, bringing his eyes level with hers. “You want me to move in with you?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  He hadn’t touched her yet, almost like he didn’t trust himself. “Explain all this to me.”

  Of course he was confused. The last time he’d seen her, Jake had given her a ring. She heard a truck start, then tires crunching the gravel outside. Obviously Nash and Chase were leaving. “I told Jake that I wasn’t going home with him,” she explained.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not the same woman I was when I lived in New York City, and I can’t go back now.” Her heart swelled as his brows drew together, emotion filling his eyes. Regardless, she pressed on, needing him to understand. “I kept wondering why I didn’t share things with Jake that I’ve shared with you.”

  Shep shoved his hands into his pockets. Was he trembling? “All right, so what did you realize, then?”

  “I never told him important things because he never asked about my life like you have. He never wanted to know me, not truly,” she replied softly. “We always talked business when we spent time together, because that was his life . . . and, well, it was mine too. We talked parties and gossip and politics and everything that seemed so important then.” She hesitated, making sure she got this right, then laid her heart on the line. “I realized that just because I care about Jake, it doesn’t mean that he’s good for me, and he’s not good for me, Shep. You are.”

  Shep tightened his hands into fists in his pockets. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asked.

  “Bentley.” She smiled.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Bentley made you realize your place is with me?”

  She nodded, closing the distance and placing her hands on his chest, feeling the adrenaline roaring through him in the slight tremors beneath her fingers. “Bentley didn’t trust Jake, and that’s when I realized I could never trust him again. Maybe I never trusted him. Not because Jake isn’t a decent man. He is. But I couldn’t trust him because he doesn’t know me. And how can you trust someone who can’t really see you?”

  “You can’t,” Shep agreed, finally sliding a hand across her cheek. “I think I’m going to have to spoil that horse now.”

  She laughed softly, leaning into his touch, tears filling her eyes. “I think that was Bentley’s thank you for saving him.”

  Shep smiled. “That’s a sweet sentiment.”

  She drew in a long deep breath before addressing him again. “I loved my life in New York City, everything about it, really. Jake was a big part of that world, but then I came here, met you, and realized that sometimes it’s okay to have everything fall apart, because something new and incredible can be born from that mess.”

  He nodded. “You’re not alone in that realization. I thought Dad’s business was over. I thought I’d lost you.” His cupped her face, his eyes searching hers intently. “And yet, you’re here.”

  She ran her hands up his neck, bringing him closer. “I’m a better me with you.”

 
; He cupped her face, his voice blistering. “I’m a better me with you.” He hesitated, and in that hesitation, she heard things he didn’t need to say. The emotion raging in his eyes said so much. “And you know why, don’t you?”

  “Because you’re the man meant to love me,” she rasped.

  “That’s right, darlin’. I am.” His lips met hers then, and there was so much more between them now, causing the kiss to be hotter than any other kiss that came before. Slowly, his lips sped up, his tongue possessively owning her mouth, while he walked her backward until he had her pressed again the wall.

  With a growl rumbling from deep in his chest, he grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them above her head with only one of his. When he leaned away, he stared at her with raw masculine desire and something so much more powerful. His free hand slid up her thigh, sneaking beneath her dress.

  She gasped, yanked her hand out from his hold, and grabbed his wrist midway up her thigh. “Wait. We’re at Chase’s house.”

  Eyes narrowed, he warned, “Let go of my hand, Emma.”

  That tone . . . that look . . . Her pussy warmed, growing damp with need. Her heart raced and her chest rose and fell rapidly with the intensity washing over her. Intensity brought on by his possession. To be commanded by such a man burned feverish lust deep into her body, pooling wicked heat between her thighs.

  She slowly released her fingers and raised her wrist back to join the other. He grabbed hold of her again, tighter now. She swallowed at the authority in his gaze, shivering under the power exuding from him.

  He dragged his nose against hers and murmured, “Not another word from your mouth. Understand?”

  Breathless, she nodded.

  With his one hand, he opened his belt, then his jeans, sending them down to his knees, exposing his hard cock and resting himself against her stomach. Only then did he sneak his hand under her skirt again, sliding her panties to the side of her sex. He didn’t stroke her to warm her up, nor did he need to, she was more than ready for him. Her nipples were puckered, desperate for his mouth. Her pussy drenched to be taken by him, making her his.

  She moaned when he roughly grabbed the front of her dress, yanking both the fabric and her bra down, exposing her taut nipples to him. With his free hand, he cupped her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth, sometimes nibbling, sometimes sucking, until she was moaning, gasping for more. Only then did he kick her legs open, sliding his cock in between her legs. His gaze positively glowed as he grabbed hold of his cock and entered her, right to the hilt. Keeping her hands pinned above her, he thrust his hips, sliding his cock within her in short, quick thrusts. She moaned against how he stretched her, hitting the perfect spot over and over again. He growled when she grew wetter, needing more of him.

  “Goddammit, you feel so damn good.” He grabbed her leg then, bringing it around his waist, and released her arms.

  She gripped his shoulders, wanting to reply, but the words became caught within the pleasure, and all she could do was moan and moan, louder and louder until she couldn’t stop moaning. Cupping her nape, he pumped his hips, hard and fast. This wasn’t about pleasure. This was about claiming her. He had almost lost her to another man; that would never happen again. She felt all of that in his primal touches. And she melted beneath that claim, until her screams spoke of her rising pleasure.

  Driven by the same need to get closer, to feel more, he hooked her leg on his one arm and slammed her back against the wall, sending the painting crashing to the ground. His kiss was brutal, punishing in its force, until he began pumping his hips hard, each time smacking his pelvis against her oversensitive clit. He fisted his hand into her hair, demanding she look at him.

  She became lost in all the things his expression told her. Captivated by the moment, and all the things warming her heart, she shouted, “I love you.”

  He froze, cupping her face. “You love me?”

  She gasped, breathless, tears filling her eyes, still so very much in the moment. Feeling everything, thinking of nothing but how they fit together so perfectly. “I know it’s crazy and so fast, but I do. You’re kind, and strong, and so damn good. I love you.”

  The side of his mouth arched, and he shifted his hips slowly, dragging his cock through her sensually, perfectly creating pleasure. “Ah, darlin, I love you too.” Back was his intense gaze, and maybe something even a little more wicked. “Do you know what I also love?” he asked.

  “What?” she gasped, struggling in desperation for more.

  “Making this sweet pussy come,” he murmured.

  With a growl, he unleashed himself completely, and she screamed against the pleasure. Each thrust growing harder than the one before it, more frenzied, even. She stared into the love, the passion, the freedom he gave her, until she couldn’t look at him anymore because he was grunting, pumping his hips hard and fast, and she was coming so hard, there was no him and her, only the acknowledgment that sometimes fate got things wrong . . . until this time.

  This time, fate got things perfectly right.

  * * *

  A few hours later, after returning to the farm with Shep, Emma exited the house, the screen door closing with a bang behind her. She sat in the rocking chair to the right that had always been Grams’s spot. Emotion caused heat to radiate through her chest while she rocked back and forth, staring out at the night, knowing she’d made some big decisions today. Choices that ensured she’d never return to her old life in New York City. Choices that would affect her family, since she’d likely now only see them on holidays. A feeling of weightlessness washed over her, and with a smile, she knew she’d made the right decision to say in River Rock with Shep.

  The porch light gave off enough illumination to reveal Tadgh and Bentley eating hay out of the trough in the sand ring. The clacking of her rocking chair hitting the porch floor cut through the silence. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter, looking to the barn across the way. Now in the darkness, only a tall shadow revealed itself. In the silence, in the darkness, a single truth appeared.

  She’d survived.

  A hot tear slid down her cheek, shutting her eyes, and warmth surrounded her like Grams was right there with her, showing her pride. The rocking of the chair became rhythmic, drawing Emma in, taking her away from there. Slowly, her mind drifted, bringing her back to a time when she’d heard that same noise.

  “He’s a big jerk,” an eighteen-year-old Emma snapped, bringing up her legs to rest her bare feet against the rocking chair’s seat on Grams’s porch.

  “Teenage boys can be,” Grams said with a sweet smile. “It seems to be in their nature.”

  “Well, I really hope they grow out of it because it’s annoying.” Emma snorted, crossing her arms. “I don’t even know why I want a boyfriend anyway.” She’d only had one serious boyfriend, and Brad dumped her because he didn’t want a girlfriend over the summer. “They are stupid.”

  Grams finished sipping her sweet tea and laughed softly. “There will be a day when a boy won’t break your heart, my darling. Just make sure you don’t let that boy pass you by.”

  “Was Gramps that boy for you?”

  Grams nodded and gave a slight smile. “Your grandfather swept me off my feet the day I met him, and he never did let me down.”

  “I hope I have that one day too,” Emma said, not daring to say more. She didn’t want to upset Grams by making her miss Gramps. Emma stared into Grams’s unfocused gaze, not understanding her all that well. “Why do you stay out here all by yourself? You could come live with us in New York City.” Emma paused, biting at her lip. “I mean, don’t you get lonely out here?”

  “Lonely?” Grams’s eyes widened before she gestured at the animals in the field. “How could I, with all these animals needing so much of me?”

  “I guess you’re right.” Emma’s gaze fell to the injured cow limping around. Her heart hurt. “It’s so awful how people treat them so badly.”

  “The
re will always be bad people in this world,” Grams said softly, bringing Emma’s focus back to her. “There’s just no stopping that. But you need to look for the good people, sweetie. They are always out there. When you find those people, hold them close.” Grams hesitated now, tears filling her eyes. “This farm is the result of so many good people. That’s what this place stands for. No matter how much bad there is in the world, there is always light, and a warm place that’s home.”

  Emma blinked. Home.

  Her chin quivered, and her throat tightened under the emotion swelling inside. So much had happened in a such a short time. It was hard to piece all the little things together to make sense out of everything. But with sudden clarity she simply hadn’t had before, her thoughts closed off and her heart opened, revealing all she needed to know.

  Oh, Grams . . .

  “All right?”

  Emma glanced sideways, finding that Shep had joined her outside. He held a glass of red wine in one hand, a smaller glass filled with scotch in the other. “Sorry,” she said, clearing a tear off her face then accepting the wine glass.

  He frowned, placed his glass down on the table between the rocking chairs, and dropped to one knee. He slid his hands along her thighs until both rested on her hips. “You really need to stop apologizing for feeling something. What’s on your mind, darlin’?”

  “Grams.”

  “Ah,” he said, understanding filling his gaze. “You’re missing her?”

  “I’ll always be missing her,” Emma explained. “But I was also thinking about how happy she’d be that I decided to stay here at the farm.”

  “You’re right. She would be very happy,” he said with a soft smile. “In fact, I imagine that was likely her plan all along when she left you the house.”

  Emma considered then nodded. “I think so too.” She drew in a long, deep breath, all her raw emotions pulling back together and centering into thoughts. With her heart bared, she lifted one hand to Shep’s cheek, her palm pressing against the stubble. “Just over a month ago, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever go home. Or if I did, how I’d pick up the pieces of all that had gone wrong.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “But I’m happy that I never needed to.” Everything suddenly made so much sense. All the things she’d been wondering and trying to figure out seemed so clear, staring into Shep’s eyes. “Fate had never been something I believed in before. I always thought choices are what made up a life. Some bad. Some good. Some catastrophic. But in the end, that’s what determined where a life would go.”