Knots and Broncs (Packs of Prairie Pine #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Billy

I should know better than this. I’m almost thirty years old, too damn old to be sneaking up a pine tree like some high school fool with a crush.

But in a town like Prairie Pine, a man checks into a motel with his girl and the whole county knows before nightfall. So, yeah, here I am—climbing trees.

The bark scrapes my palms as I shift my weight, balancing on the thick branch outside Sedona’s window. She always leaves it unlatched for me, though she claims it’s for “fresh air.” I grin at the lie every time.

One pull and I’m inside, boots landing on the soft braided rug by her bed. My heart’s still racing, partly from the climb, mostly from the thought of her.

Her scent hits me first. Honeysuckle and warm cedarwood. It wraps around me, thick and sweet, crawling straight into my lungs.

I swear it calms every raw nerve I didn’t know I had.

I take a breath, grounding myself before I do something stupid like growl.

Her room is disorganized in the best way. So full of life, of her. Posters of rock bands and wildflowers fight for space on her walls.

There’s a stack of worn veterinary textbooks on the dresser, a mug full of pens, and a half-empty can of lemon soda beside it. Her bed’s unmade, a throw blanket half-hanging off the side, smelling faintly of her shampoo.

An unzipped duffel spills out scrubs and jeans, and a veterinary textbook face-down beside it. On her vanity, I spot a trail of mascara tubes, perfume bottles, and a pile of bracelets tangled like vines.

This girl is even messier than my younger brother, Tex.

The mirror is cluttered with Polaroids: her with a foal, her grinning next to my other brother, Joey. There’s another one of her and her dad outside the clinic, sun glaring off their faces.

Then there’s my favorite photo. Sedona sitting cross-legged in her dad’s barn, glasses sliding down her nose, hair pulled up in a messy bun, a calf asleep beside her.

My nerd.

My girl.

I smile, brushing my thumb over the edge of the frame.

Outside, a truck rumbles up the gravel drive. I lean toward the window, and sure enough, the old Ford comes to a stop.

She jumps out, curls flying, the sun catching the red so bright it almost hurts to look at. She’s wearing that faded Metallica T-shirt tucked into her jeans, boots dusty, cheeks flushed from the day.

Every time I see her, it’s like someone flips a switch inside me. My pulse spikes.

I whistle low, and her head snaps up. When she spots me, she breaks into that grin that never fails to gut me.

My pulse thuds heavy in my veins, cock already stirring in my jeans as I straighten up and lock eyes with her.

I wink.

She shakes her head and runs toward the house. She hurries inside, and I take the stairs two at a time to meet her halfway.

“Took you long enough, baby,” I growl, crossing the room in two strides. I catch her by the waist before she can even speak, pulling her flush against me.

She smells like the clinic—faint antiseptic and hay—but under it all, that intoxicating Omega aroma that’s got my instincts roaring. Her body molds to mine, soft and yielding, her heartbeat racing against my chest.

She laughs, breathless, tilting her head up to me. “Sorry. Emergency at the clinic. Old Roy let his dog eat wire again. Dad needed the extra hands, but at least I’m here now.”

My mouth crashes down on hers, hungry and demanding, tongue sweeping in to claim every inch.

She melts into the kiss, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I can taste the urgency on her lips, the way she clings to me, just as needy.

I break the kiss just long enough to tug her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside. Underneath, that red bra hugs her full breasts, the lace edging teasing the swell of her cleavage.

“I love your lunch breaks, but maybe negotiate for longer ones.”

She giggles. “Blame Old Roy.”

My hands roam immediately, thumbs brushing over the fabric, feeling her nipples harden beneath. She arches into my touch, a soft whimper escaping her throat.

“I’d say that’s a decent excuse.” My fingers travel over her freckled skin. My throat goes dry. So fucking pretty. “But I’m still charging you a late fee.”

Her smile fades into a shiver of laughter as my hand traces her ribs. “Oh yeah? How much?”

“Depends on how fast I get paid, Sedona,” I murmur, voice rough with want. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.”

Her fingers fumble with the buttons of my flannel, popping them open one by one until she can shove it off my shoulders. It pools on the floor, and she’s on me again, palms flat against my chest, tracing the lines of muscle down to the ridges of my abs.

The Alpha in me wants to pull her close and keep her there. The man in me just wants another kiss.

“Did you wait long?” she asks, her eyes watching me.

“No. But I had to bribe Joey and Tex to take the cattle to the dip for me.”

“Bribe them with what?”

“I’m cleaning out the stables all weekend.”

She smirks. “You should have asked Seth. He would have done it for you.”

“Seth had to go to the bank today. It’s Thursday, remember?”

“Damn! I guess I really do owe you then.”

“You do. And you really ought to give me a spare key,” I murmur, brushing my lips along the curve of her neck. “What if I fall off that window one day? What’ll people say then?”

She gives a soft laugh, already working at my belt buckle. “You care too much what people say,” she breathes, her mouth brushing my jaw.

Maybe she’s right. But I can’t say it when her fingers slide under the waistband of my jeans. I kiss her instead, deep and slow, and we stumble backward into her room.

“I’ll be fast,” I mutter against her lips.

“Don’t you dare,” she says, her tongue teasing the hollow of my throat. “There are sandwiches in the kitchen. Take your time.”

I reach for the zipper of her jeans, yanking it down with a sharp rasp.

She kicks off her boots as I work the denim down her hips, exposing the matching red panties that cling to her curves. The fabric is already damp at the crotch, her arousal scent blooming stronger now, making my mouth water.

I drop to my knees, helping her step out of the jeans, my hands sliding up her calves, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh. Her skin is flushed and warm under my palms.

I rise slowly, kissing a trail up her thigh as I go, nipping at the sensitive inner skin. She shivers, hands gripping my shoulders for balance. At her waist, I pause, fingers dipping under the elastic of her panties.

“These are coming off,” I say, low and commanding. “I need to see all of you.”

She nods, breathless, as I peel the lace down. Inch by inch, I reveal her—the soft mound of her pubic hair, trimmed neat, then the glistening folds of her cunt, already swollen and slick with her heat.

The panties slide past her thighs, calves, and I ball them up, inhaling her scent deeply before discarding them. She’s standing there in just the bra now, vulnerable and beautiful, her body trembling with anticipation.

My hands are on her again, one cupping her ass, squeezing the firm globe, the other trailing up her stomach to the clasp of her bra.

I unhook it with a flick, letting the straps fall. She shrugs it off, breasts spilling free—full and heavy, nipples peaked and begging for attention.

I lean in, mouth latching onto one, sucking hard while my tongue flicks the tip.

She gasps, head falling back, fingers digging into my scalp. I switch to the other, teeth grazing just enough to make her buck against me.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I rasp, pulling back to admire her. Naked now, every curve lit by the sunlight—freckles dusting her shoulders, the dip of her waist flaring to hips made for gripping.

My cock throbs painfully in my jeans, but I hold back, wanting to savor her. I guide her backward toward the bed, our mouths fusing again as her calves hit the mattress.

She tumbles down, pulling me with her, but I resist, kneeling between her spread thighs instead. Her legs part wider instinctively, her desire making her bold.

I run my hands up her inner thighs, thumbs stroking the slick skin, inching closer to her core. She’s dripping already, the evidence of her need coating her folds, shining in the light.

“Look at you,” I say. “So ready for me. Your body’s screaming for it.”

I lean in, breath hot against her, and drag my tongue flat along her slit, tasting her sweetness. She moans, hips jerking up.

I do it again, slower, circling her entrance before flicking up to her clit.

It’s swollen, peeking from its hood, and I latch on, sucking gently while my tongue swirls. Her hands fist the sheets, thighs quivering around my head.

I pull back just enough to speak, my mouth brushing her wet folds. “Your cunt drips for me, Sedona. Soaking, begging for my tongue.”

She whimpers, and I dive back in, lapping at her with fervor. My tongue spears into her, fucking her shallowly, then withdraws to trace every ridge and fold.

She’s tangy-sweet, her arousal flooding my mouth as I eat her out like a starving man. I alternate between broad licks and pointed flicks on her clit, feeling it throb under my attention.

Her breaths come in pants now, body writhing as I push her higher. One hand pins her hip down, the other slides two fingers inside her, curling to hit that spot that makes her cry out.

I pump them steadily, my mouth never leaving her clit, sucking harder, tongue vibrating against it. She’s close—I can feel it in the way her walls clench around my fingers, her slick gushing out.

“Please,” she gasps, voice breaking. “Alpha, I need you inside me. Fuck me, please—I’m on the edge, I can’t...” Her words are desperate, Omega instincts overriding everything, her need demanding completion.

I rise up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “That’s my girl. Begging so prettily.”

I fumble in the pocket of my jeans for the condom. It crinkles in my grip as I straighten, shucking my own jeans and boxers down in one go.