Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

She began to frown, reaching into the bag for another carrot.

“What are you doing?”

She startled, spinning around with the carrot in her hand. Shep stood behind her, carrying a bundle of rope and a bridle, his eyes amused. She was momentarily frozen, her gaze fixed on that rope. Her dream was right there on her mind, the memory of how amazing Dream Shep had been when he tied her up burning through her. She glanced over his shoulder. No truck. “How did you get here?”

“Magic.” He winked.

She rolled her eyes but wouldn’t have been surprised at all if Shep possessed a little magic. Just being close to him again brought butterflies to her belly. And that touch of his . . . hell, that certainly was pure magic. “No, really, you obviously didn’t drive. Did you walk here?”

“Nah.” He tucked his hands into his jeans, hooking the rope and bridle onto his arm. He’d apparently gone home and changed, since he’d had a crisp, clean black T-shirt on. “I parked at the end of the driveway because my truck is loud. I thought it might do Bentley some good to have a couple of quiet days with nothing too spooky around.”

“That’s probably a good idea. He’s so skittish.” She turned back around to Tadgh, who hadn’t stopped nudging her for another carrot, which she quickly gave him. While he chewed, she grabbed an apple from the bag and tossed the fruit at Bentley again. The apple hit the ground and rolled toward Bentley, hitting him in the hoof.

His snort was his only reply.

“Is there a reason you are throwing fruit at him?” Shep asked, voice curious.

“I think Bentley is broken,” she grumbled. “He refuses to eat any treats. At all.” She offered another apple to Tadgh, who happily ate it down in two big bites. “I mean, look at all the goodies around him. I figured this has got to be brutal. All these juicy apples and carrots just waiting for him, but nothing—”

She went to finish but was momentarily speechless. Shep’s body pressed against her from behind, his hands coming to her hips, holding her tight to him. He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder next to the spaghetti strap of her black tank top, and those lips were pure sin, sliding wicked heat within her to pool low in her belly. “I’m sure Bentley will wise up and eat those treats soon enough.”

Only when he backed away could she breathe again. Seriously, this guy was something else. Powerful. Seductive. Intense. When he got close, her brain shut off and her hormones turned on. There was no controlling anything in the presence of Shep Blackshaw, so why even bother trying.

She licked her lips and turned, her cheeks no doubt flushed, her eyes dilated with lust. Immediately, she spotted that telling curve of his mouth. Oh, yeah, he knew what he did to her, that much was obvious.

Slowly, his grin faded, and he stepped back. Apparently, he also knew the power his closeness had on her. “Are you all settled up with the farm? Everyone fed?”

“Yes.” She always fed the animals before dinner. “Why?”

He gestured toward Tadgh. “I wondered if you’d like to head out for a ride. We’ve got a beautiful property.” He paused, giving a sweet smile. “Then, how does dinner at my place sound?”

She hesitated, wondering if that was crossing any emotional lines she didn’t want to cross. After a few seconds, she realized sometimes dinner was just dinner. And hopefully dinner would lead to sex. “Sounds nice.” She smiled back.

“Excellent.” Shep moved in his confident stride through the gate, and Tadgh went directly to him. Once Shep slid the bridle over his head, he called Emma forward with a wave. “Up you go.”

She hesitantly entered the sand ring, keeping an eye on Bentley in case he decided to make another go at her. Each step drew her closer to Tadgh and Shep, but Bentley stayed put, probably more afraid of her than she was of him. When she finally settled next to Shep, she bent her leg and he hoisted her up onto the Tadgh’s back. After which he joined her, shifting his hips forward until he was tucked in nice and close, the strength at her back most welcome. He nudged Tadgh forward, and she noticed the rope at his side. A couple of seconds later, he lassoed Bentley; the horse stomped a hoof, objecting.

“You’re not taking him with us?” she gasped, horrified by the thought of getting that close to Bentley again.

“He won’t hurt you,” Shep soothed her.

She stared at the devil horse, who looked back at her. “I don’t believe you,” she grumbled.

Shep’s low seductive voice brushed against her ear. “Now, Emma, do you honestly believe that I would put you in situation where he could hurt you?”

“No, of course not.” Goose bumps rose on her neck.

“How about a little trust, then, hmm?” Shep didn’t pause or wait for her to come to terms with the idea. He simply began walking Tadgh toward Bentley, winding up the rope as he went.

Emma gripped Tadgh’s mane, holding tighter. Shep might be all gung ho. She certainly wasn’t. With every step, the sense of danger thickened in the air, and the more Emma thought he’d up and lost his goddamn mind.

When the rope pulled tight, Shep pressed the reins to the right and Tadgh turned, with Bentley following, his head by Shep’s leg.

“You can breathe again,” he said.

Emma forced the air from her lungs while Tadgh exited through the gate. A quick look back told her Shep hadn’t been wrong—Bentley followed, the rope around his neck slack. Whatever training Shep had done had worked. Bentley trusted him. Though that wasn’t much of a surprise, even she could see herself trusting him. And right now, her trust in anyone felt shaky.

“Believe me now?” Shep asked, his strong thighs hugging hers.