4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Grayson
I can’t take my eyes off of her. Not her face or her curves or those scrubs that fit her like a glove. I’ve never seen a rodeo doc wear scrubs, but I sense a kindred spirit in her. A need to prove herself to everyone around her. The same purgatory I’ve been stuck in my whole life.
Only now, she’s drunk and trying to keep up with Joy, the new horse’s hand this season, and some other woman.
That broad smile never leaves her face, her eyes finding mine every time a song ends. She’s a mess. I know the steps to every single one of these tracks, but she clearly doesn’t.
Chugging the last of my beer, I’m about to walk up to her when Tate taps Joy’s shoulder.
She spins on him, mouth pressed into a straight line while Tate says something to her. The way he removes his hat, running his hand over the back of his hair that stretches past his shoulders, tells me he’s apologizing.
It would be nice if he gave me the same courtesy once in a while. Tate can be such a dick. Walking around like he’s all high and mighty. Always trying to replace Dad.
Dad was the only parent I’d ever known. His death when I was seventeen leaving a massive hole inside me, I don’t think I’ve ever filled. A hole Tate has tried to occupy.
I didn’t need him to be my father. I needed him to be my friend. My big brother. Instead, he insisted on continuing to tell me what to do and how to live my life. Tate even stole my dream of making it to the Pbr and becoming a champion bull rider.
Even when I healed from the injuries that kept me out and stuck to more local competition, I still couldn’t escape him. Tate retired and became a fucking bronc rider. Because it wasn’t enough for him to be great at one thing, he had to be great at both. And not just anywhere. Here. At Boulder Ranch. The place I’d made my home.
No matter where I go, or what I do, he’s right there.
Even now, he’s still trying to be Dad. He lives in our house, works on our farm, and does the job Dad did until a tractor accident took him out of this world.
I’m torn between another beer and going to River when Joy takes Tate’s hand. The beat slows. A couple’s song blaring through the speakers. One where you hold your woman close and spin across the dance floor.
Mind made up, I march up to River, snatching her hand just as some other guy reaches for her. Her yelp as I spin her into my chest, going straight to my dick.
“Oh. Hi there,” she giggles, her palms flat against my chest.
“Ready to work up a sweat?”
Her brow scrunches, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, but she nods.
River has rhythm but no idea how to country line dance or two-step. Just the same, I keep her tucked close to my body, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. Another slow song comes through the speakers, Joy and Tate long gone when River’s fingers find their way into my hair. Her short nails scrape over my scalp, and I want to moan out loud, but I hold it in.
This woman makes me feel as alive as being on the back of a bull does.
“I’m very drunk,” she snorts.
I’d noticed, but it seems like she doesn’t have fun often. Like maybe she needed a night to just let loose. A night to just be River Thompson, the woman.
“Can I take you home?” I whisper in her ear, my lips brushing over the shell. A shiver works its way through her body, those fingers sinking deeper into my damp strands.
“Yeah.”
My fingers weave through hers, her gaze drifting down for a moment before back up to my face.
“Just being a gentleman.”
She only snorts, tucking her body closer to mine as we work our way through the crowd and out the front door. My hat pulled from my back pocket, where I tucked it after the first song.
Cool air immediately chills my skin as we step out into the night. It’s April, but the nights still come with temperatures low enough a coat is necessary. A consequence of Lake Boulder and the Slate Ridge mountains bordering most of our county.
River begins to walk in the opposite direction of my truck, her feet overstepping one in front of the other. That giggle breaking free every few seconds.
“This way, Boss.”
Her straight nose wrinkles, but she angles the way I’d been walking. “My car is over there.”
“You’re not driving.”
“Who’s being bossy now?”
I can only look down at her. The banter wasn’t something I expected of her. From the way she presented herself earlier today, I expected a ball-buster. Someone hard and unforgiving, but there seems to be a fun side to her. An easygoing side that she hides from other people.
Opening the passenger door of my truck, she wrinkles her nose again. Only when I look down at the seat do I notice my filthy chaps on it. No one ever rides in my truck with me, so it’s not something I think about.
“Sorry.” Tossing them into the back, I finally release her hand, switching to grip her hip. “Up you go.”
“I didn’t think gentlemen groped their dates,” she snorts, those green eyes narrowed on my face.
Fuck , this woman has my dick twitching in my jeans. Jeans that suddenly seem too fucking tight. No one has ever gotten to me the way she does.
Leaning in close, my front pressed against her back, her breath hitches. My fingers flex against the curve of her hip. The slight arch in her back leaving that round ass tapping right below where my dick throbs against my zipper. The fucker went straight to attention the moment she turned those beautiful irises on me.
My voice is low, bringing my mouth down to her ear. “You weren’t complaining on the dance floor.” Her lips part to retort, but I beat her to it. “Get in the truck, River.”
“Help me.”
Lifting her into the truck, she settles into the passenger seat, buckling her seat belt before I shut the door and hop in the driver’s side.
She’s quiet as I pull out of the lot, and then for the entire drive. Her focus never drifts from outside her window. Her eyes only finding mine as I pull up the long dirt road that will turn into my circle driveway in front of the custom, modern farmhouse I built five years ago.
Where Tate stayed home, I went just across the Cole County border to get away from him and bought this land. Then built the house. It’s massive, with a black exterior offset by pine wood. A monstrosity way too large for just me, but I like animals and figured over time I would end up bringing plenty of them home.
“This isn’t my house,” River protests as I open her door.
“I said, ‘Can I take you home?’”
“Yes, my—”
“I never said which one.”
Her eyes bulge, but she takes my hand, moving up the front steps beside me.
Bronc and Bull, my massive Bernese Mountain dogs, greet us at the front door. Their tongues lolling out of their mouths as I run my hands through their fur.
“Dear god. They’re like human-sized,” River hiccups.
“We like big things here.”
Her swallow is loud as she stands beside me, her body stiffening. I realize what I said and maybe did it on purpose. I needed proof that she’s as affected by me as I am by her.
“Big. Yes. Massive.” Her words breathy.
“Let’s get you some water.” I guide her into my kitchen, flipping on the dim lights that sit beneath the hood. She doesn’t say a word, her gaze raking over the open space. Absently, I wonder if she likes it.
With a shake of my head, I turn my back to her, fishing a glass out of the cabinet. It shouldn’t matter if she likes my kitchen or not. I only brought her here to make sure she had someplace safe to stay for the night.
Keep telling yourself that, Gray.
Running the tap, I fill the glass for her.
I’m slow to turn back around, unprepared for how this woman makes my insides stir. River leans against the island, her fingers curled over the edge as her back presses into the concrete top.
Her eyes rake down my form, stopping where my dick bulges behind my zipper before trailing back up to meet my eyes. Stepping to within a few inches of her, I raise the glass as if in slow motion. Our fingers brush as she takes it from my grasp, my body suddenly pressing in against hers. Those sage eyes never leave mine as she takes long pulls.
“Want some?” The pink of her tongue skips over her bottom lip before she bites down on it.
Instead of allowing me to reach for the glass, she raises it to my lips, waiting for me to tip my head back and drink.
Only when I’ve emptied it does she place the glass behind her on the countertop, pushing hard so she can hop up to sit on the edge. Still, those eyes never leave my face. So vibrant. So beautiful. Piercing right into me as if she can see all the things I try to hide.
“Hungry?” I breathe, my lips just out of reach of hers.
She only nods before her fingers slip into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my face to hers.
I’d wanted to kiss her sweetly for the first time. Learn her. Worship her, but the moment our mouths meet, we devour each other. Her lips part for me, my tongue dipping in. The coolness of the water we both just drank does nothing to lower the heat between us. It only burns hotter. A raging inferno that may never end.
Fingers braced on the inside of her knees, I spread her legs wider. Just enough space for me to step between them. Her core pressed against my throbbing erection.
Tugging her scrub top out of the band of her pants, my fingers trail over her bare skin. Her moan caught in my mouth as her body arches toward me.
My mouth pulls away from hers, trailing over her jaw. Her breaths are heavy in my ears. A sound that only makes my dick harder. “I don’t do this,” she pants.
I instantly pause, pulling my face away from hers. “We can stop.”
Her head shakes. “No. Don’t.” The words almost frantic, before crashing her mouth back to mine. Deft fingers undo the buttons on my shirt before yanking it from the waistband of my jeans. “There’s no one here to judge us.”
My entire body is on fire. Between her hands and her mouth, I think I might combust.
Without even having River do more than knead my flesh and kiss me, I know she will ruin me. Maybe she already has.
“Hold on.”
Her arms loop around my neck, my large palms gripping behind her thighs to wrap her legs around me.
Sculpted dark brows shoot high. “Impressive.”
“What? Carrying you?”
She only nods.
River isn’t thin. She has curves and soft flesh for me to squeeze. A figure that women pay surgeons to construct for them. But I’ve wrestled whole cows, pulled tractors, and thrown bales of hay like they weigh nothing.
Why the hell is she worried about me carrying her?
“Boss, what type of men have you been with?” I press my mouth to hers briefly as I carry my precious cargo down the long hallway. “Never mind, don’t answer that. You’re with me now.”
Marching up the east set of stairs, my mouth never leaves her skin. My grip is tight on the curves of her ass, as if unwilling to let her go. My hold only loosening when I cross the threshold into my bedroom.
Setting her down on the edge of my bed, the black comforter blends with the scrub pants I still haven’t torn from her body. Lust-filled eyes stare up at me, her arms still looped around my neck.
Kissing her jaw, my voice drops. “Say yes.”
“To what?” she swallows audibly. I already know her answer. It’s there in her eyes as they focus on the strain of my rock-hard dick against my jeans.
In an instant, I’m in her space. My fists dig into the mattress on either side of her hips. “River, I am seconds from no longer being the gentleman my dad raised me as. Say yes.”
Wetting her lower lip, she leans in closer, our mouths brushing. With a giggle, she snatches my hat from my head. The quick shake allowing my waves to fall around my face. River doesn’t hesitate to shove it on her head backward, ignoring that thick ponytail.
Dark desire blossoms in her eyes. A wicked grin pulling at the corner of her mouth to accompany it.
“Take me for a ride, cowboy.”