Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
LOUISA
I t’s been a long time since I have seen pure disbelief on Harry’s face. Ten years, to be exact. But as we sit in the saddle barely a week after my last ride out with him, that’s exactly what is etched all over his face.
Next comes rage, as he swings down from his horse.
He paces up and down the half-destroyed fence line toward the mutilated calf barely moving. Another beast down.
Wolves.
Heavens above.
At this rate, we won’t have enough breeders left to make it through the next year. Let alone the longevity of the herd. Which is supposed to thrive and grow over the next decade. That was the plan, at least.
Now, with things so tight, each loss is a kick in the gut.
My installments on the restaurant are taking every last penny I have. We can’t afford another setback. It’s moments like these I wish Rosie was here. Her words always set Harry right. She knew him so well. Where his mind would take him.
He stalks back to the gelding and plucks his rifle from by the saddle. I swallow past the lump in my throat. Letting my eyes shutter closed, I grip the pommel, reins tightly woven through my fingers just in case Horse spooks.
Crack .
Dammit.
I set my jaw, grinding my molars to stem the emotion wanting out so bad my eyes burn. This is ranchin’. It’s hard. It’s Mother Nature versus us some days. And the damn wolves.
The saddle on the gelding creaks. I open my eyes to find Harry up on his horse, those blues trained on me.
“You good, darlin’?”
“Fine. Let’s keep moving.”
He nods and pushes the gelding into a lope. I fly off behind him. Horse catches up in no time, and we lope through the golden grasses at the base of the mountains. The low ground, where the wolves shouldn’t be, this close to the homestead.
Supply and demand.
The colder weeks have chased them down. The diminishing feed in the higher pastures means the cattle are coming down from the mountain. It’s not soon enough. We’re losing too many of the smaller cattle.
Today we are bringing the cows and calves down off the mountain. The big roundup with the newer herd Harry brought on when he purchased the ranch roam free in the higher pastures. Hopefully they have fared better than his home lot.
Fingers crossed.
It isn’t long until we find the old mob. And they are as familiar as the man beside me by now. The reddish cows graze the short green sprouts poking through the frosty ground. Their calves mill about, suckling, playing. They look content enough.
“Take the rear.” Harry waves to the higher part of the slope. I trot Horse up to where he wants me and start rounding up.
Harry takes the lead, weaving back and forth on the gelding. It’s automatic, a dance between the beast and man and his horse. Head down and haunches bunched, the gelding earns his keep, moving side to side as we slowly make our way down the side of the mountain. I push up the stragglers and keep an eye on the youngest of the calves. The cows are alert. Good mamas, they are.
That bond between them and their babies is heartwarming. I wonder if I will ever have it. A love so strong, so automatic. I sure hope so. My gaze drifts to the man on the horse beyond the herd. His dark hair pokes out from under his hat. His form on a horse is something else.
Collar up on his jacket, hat pulled down, strong legs wrapped around the gelding... It isn’t until I hear a little bellow beside me that I realize my heart rate is exceptionally high, each breath too choppy. My panties, rocking in the saddle, are saturated.
Shit.
The calf by Horse stumbles, trying too hard to catch up. I pull Horse to a stop and let the little guy walk in front. “Hup-hup.”
The calf bobs his head, hurrying for his mother. I can’t help the smile growing over my face with his adorable awkward gait and the way she stops and looks back at him, patiently waiting for her son.
A small giggle slips past my lips as she nudges him forward with her muzzle. An unspoken reprimand, and a reminder to keep up.
We all know the price he will pay if he doesn’t.
A few hours later, the cows and calves wander into the field behind the barn. Harry is visibly more relaxed, trotting around the herd, doing his recount.
Always with the numbers.
Me, on the other hand... Watching Harry ride, the sight of him working the gelding has me anything but relaxed. My body buzzes with the need to touch him, to have his hands on me. My panties have soaked through my jeans. My nipples rub on my cotton button-down shirt through my lacy bra. The breathlessness that claims me the moment the homestead comes into view all but sends me dizzy.
“What’s got you all hot and bothered, darlin’?” Harry reins to a halt beside Horse. He’s chewing on a grass stalk like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I’m set to implode.
When I don’t respond, not taking my eyes from him as my breaths plummet and barely rise, he plucks the stalk from between his lips and nudges the gelding sideways. Our legs brush, my chest hitches, forgetting to fall, and his gaze darkens.
“Hell, Lou. Why didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” His voice is gravel.
My breathing accelerates.
I’m embarrassed. I’m burning up for him. I’m desperate in the best—no, worst way possible.
Without a word, Harry leans over and slides the reins from my fingers. He clucks his tongue, and both horses walk for the barn, me a stunned passenger.
Inside, Harry dismounts and ties the gelding to the holding rail. He ties Horse next as I swing from the saddle. Harry stands below me, hands grabbing my ribs. I slide down his body, and his mouth claims me.
Starving for something to grab on to, I slide trembling digits into his hair, knocking his hat to the ground. He grabs mine, tossing it beside his. Crowding me against Horse, his hot, open-mouthed kisses run the length of my neck. I rest my head back on the fender. His rough touch traces the path of my neck, gripping my face as his mouth smashes over my lips.
God, I’m on fire.
Every stitch of clothing is driving me insane.
I tug at his shirt. He breaks away, taking my work shirt in his rough grip as he rips it open. Buttons fly onto the ground as he shoves the shirt from my back.
“I can’t wait,” I rasp.
My trembling fingers grab at his clothes. He grunts, tugging the shirt from his back and opening the buckle of his belt with one hand. I lean into Horse as he bends down, nipping at each hard peak through my lacy bra.
“Fuck me, darlin’,” he growls, the sound vibrating around the nipple his lips have closed on.
I arch into him.
I’m drowning.
My throat is so thick. Each breath so wild it singes my lungs. I’m literally burning up from the inside.
“Too hot,” I pant.
Harry tugs at my jeans, sending them over my hips. I falter, swaying into Horse. She shifts on her feet.
Harry sweeps me into his arms. Planting kisses to his jaw as he stalks to lord knows where, I close my eyes and breathe him in.
It’s too much.
He always has been.
My ticket to heaven, dressed in boots and a hat. His blue eyes flicker to my face as he reaches the old workbench on the side of the barn. Tools, rope, saws, and axes line the wall. I’m deposited onto the rough, weathered surface. Caged in by strong arms a second later.
“Louisa May—” His face flinches as he leans into the bench, eliminating any space between us. His jaw feathers. A calloused hand slides behind my neck, pulling me up to him as he devours my mouth with his.
I open, just as desperate.
So damn hungry for him.
His hard length rubs at my center.
I need more.
I slide my hands over his on the bench beside my hips. With a low, raspy noise, he breaks from the kiss, resting his forehead on mine.
“I want to see how wet this sweet pussy is for me right now.”
I lift my hips, pushing off the bench with both hands. His fingers scrape over my skin as he drags the jeans from my body. Not taking his gaze from me, he presses his hands to the inside of my knees, forcing my legs wide.
“Mine, darlin’.”
“Yours,” I breathe.
The ache in my clit is drowning out every other sensation. With every heaving breath, my breasts bounce. His dark eyes drop to them.
“See these, Louisa May?”
He nods to my chest.
“Uh huh.”
“Mine,” he says in a low voice. The sound sends a thrill through my chest.
He palms a breast and dips his head, taking a nipple between his teeth. The sting of the light bite is instantly soothed as he works his tongue over the hard peak. My legs fall open wider as I brace on my hands and arch into his touch. His tongue. His heat.
He loses the nipple with a pop, and I look back up.
No .
A smirk flickers over his face as he runs kisses down my belly, moving to my inner thighs, one then the other. A whimper falls as I open for him.
My panties are absolutely ruined.
My thighs are slick with the need I have for this man.
When he runs a finger under the side of my panties, I grab his hair, desperation contorting my face. “Ple—Harry... Oh god.”
“Patience, Louisa May,” he rasps.
God, I have none at all.
My implosion is imminent.
He tugs the panties from my hips, and I lift, wanting them gone.
Bare, I sit on the bench, spread for him. Heat rushes my neck and face. But when he swallows hard and meets my gaze, it fades. “Sweet Jesus, darlin’.”
His finger traces the inside of my thigh as he drops his attention to my aching center.
“So fuckin’ wet for me, Lou. This is what ranch work with me does to you?”
I nod.
Words are of no use to me now.
“Good.” He leans to the side and grabs something from a hook behind me. He leans back, the rope in his hands, and my breathing shatters to nothing. “Day’s not over.”
“Harry,” I gasp.
“Yeah?”
I glance at the rope in his hands.
“Trust, Louisa May.”
I stare at him for a moment before I whisper, “Trust.”
“Hands.”
I press my hands together in front of my stomach. He binds the rope around and around before tying it off. A beat later, my arms are over my head, snagged on the hook above me. I can’t get down. I can’t touch him. I can’t move from this bench.
“Right, now, this here... ” He runs a thumb over my clit. My mouth gapes, a whimper tumbling out. “Mine. To do with whatever the hell I want.”
Heat floods my face again as his finger falls away.
I want him to touch me.
I need him to touch me again.
The pounding throb in my clit is painful. The slightest touch would set me off. So worked up, I’m bound to come with the smallest mercy he could give me.
Harry picks up a set of fencing pliers. “This like your vibrator, Lou?”
He has to be joking.
I shake my head.
“I use these all the time. What I wouldn’t do to have you all over these.”
He tosses the tool in his hand, catching the gripping metal end in his palm. The handles ghost up my drenched center before he presses it into my clit. They're cold.
I arch against the small, frigid touch that sends me reeling.
“Cold, darlin’?”
“Too cold.”
He runs the handle through my wet center. “Mine, remember?”
The mewl leaving my lips is ragged.
“More,” I manage to gasp.
He raises one brow. “More?”
“Please...”
Fuck, please.
The pliers slide into me. So slow. Harry watches as the handle disappears, inch after inch.
I buck on the edge of the bench, not even caring I could slip off and hit the ground.
It’s when the pliers slide from my center that I cry out. Harry’s hand lands on my hip, his grip feral. His breathing is no better than my useless, ragged intakes. Heat consumes his deep blues, turning them almost black.
“I need you,” I pant, wishing I could grab for him.
The pliers fall from his hand and hit the ground with a thud. His hands wrap around one side of my face, squeezing a little. “Patience.”
He studies me for a moment, then dips, bending down. His palms push into my thighs, his tongue sweeping through my center.
“Ah, oh my go?—”
My hips leave the bench.
The heat of his tongue, his mouth... After the cold pliers, it’s too much.
I tug at the binds. The rope burns into my wrists. Rocking my hips, every breath leaves with a strangled cry.
His lip close around my clit. Sparks litter my veins, and heat swells in my core. Two calloused fingers slide into my center, and I explode. He sucks hard, sliding the rough knuckles of bent fingers curling up toward my front. I shatter around his sinking fingers.
Twisting on the bench, the sound of my release echoes through the old barn.
“Fuck, Louisa May. I want you on my cock now, woman.”
Not waiting for me to come down from sweet agony, he tugs the rope off the hook and over my head as he flips me over the bench. Nudging my legs apart, he leans over my back. “I’m gonna show you how much you’re fuckin’ mine. And why you’ll never run from me again.”
I cant my ass up, waiting. The zipper whines as he shoves his jeans down. His fat tip sweeps through my dripping center. I push back. Hands tied, all I can do is wriggle my hips in the hopes he gives in and shows me mercy.
His warm, tight grip lands on my hips, tugging me back toward him. He slams into me. The groan that follows is nothing short of feral. Seated to the base, he folds around me, brushing my hair from my face as his lips fall to my ear.
“This is for every night I had to go without you, Louisa May.”
Oh god.
He stretches me, fills me up completely.
It’s heaven, burning hot.
I can’t breathe.
Emotion clouds my senses. Regret for all the days we missed together. The ridiculous need I have for him. Tangled together, they’re a heady combination sending me higher. My legs tremble as he pulls out so slow, each inch feels like a mile.
I would take this walk with Harry, time and time again.
A hand leaves my hip to run up my spine. His fingers close around my hair and twist it around his wrist. I buck my hips.
God, more please.
He thunders into me, relentlessly.
Hard.
Fast.
Warm need runs down my thighs. Every time he rims my entrance with his fat tip, I almost buckle at the knees.
I move back a little, hunting for more, and he stills.
Hot breath hits the skin between my shoulder blades. “Mine, and I ain’t askin’. You give in to me, you hear.”
“Always,” I rasp. “I will always be yours.”
“Damn straight, woman.”
He thrusts into me so hard I see stars. Unrecognizable sounds fall past my lips. Each damning stroke more blissful than the last.
The heat in my core builds, faster and faster, with his relentless rhythm. My body shakes as my release crests.
Lightning floods my veins.
The pressure mounts and spills over.
I detonate.