Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

Harper let his body propel hers into the middle of the bed so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She put her arms above her head, because she knew how much that sign of surrender affected him. She loved this position. The feel of his strong body pressing into hers, chest to chest, belly to belly.

Then his hungry mouth sought hers, nearly burning her lips with a blistering kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue. Bran rocked into her hard enough that she worried their teeth might clack together. He must’ve sensed it at the same time she did, because he slid his lips to her ear.

“You make me crazy. Only you, Harper. What you do to me.” He left a string of sucking kisses down one side of her neck and then back up the other side to her ear. “I wanna f**k you until we both pass out.”

“Anything you want, Bran. You know I won’t say no. I never have.” God help me, but I fear I’ll never deny you anything.

His very approving, very male groan exploded in her ear. “Smack my ass again while I’m f**king you.”

When his c**k was buried in her body completely, she brought her hands down, simultaneously slapping both his butt cheeks.

He shuddered.

She did it again.

And again, until Bran circled her wrists and pinned them above her head, grinding his mouth onto hers in a frantic kiss. His hips pistoned faster. Then he stilled completely. He ripped his mouth free and roared like a beast as he came.

Harper felt every pulse as his c**k gave up its seed, bathing her inner walls with slick heat as she contracted the muscles around it, trying to prolong his orgasm.

He gasped, “Enough. Stop. You’re killin’ me.”

She traced his skin with her hands, loving the rippling movements in the muscles of his damp back.

As he started to move off her, she whispered, “Stay with me tonight,” hoping he wouldn’t deny her the chance to have him in her bed until dawn.

Bran sweetly nuzzled her jawline. “I need to clean up first—”

“No. I like you sticky.”

He lifted his head and looked at her strangely. “Why?”

“Because we always clean up and then I go home. Just for once I’d like to stay like this, a sweaty, sticky, tangled mess. All night.”

His eyes took on a softer sheen and he said, “Anything you want.”

Chapter Seventeen

Branding day started as early as everything else in the cattle business. Helpers on horses, on ATVs, and in pickups headed for the pastures to round up the cattle. Anxious mama cows weren’t happy to be separated from their babies, and by the corrals the din of moos was deafening.

Harper was relieved to stay at the house and coordinate the food. She’d seen enough of the cows and calves up close and personal, and it appeared Bran had plenty of help. Given the rainy weather the last few days, she’d been happy to see sunshine for the branding and for the feast afterward.

Bran’s neighbors had shown up, as well as his friends and even their family members. He’d explained that other nearby ranches staggered branding days, spreading them out over a few weeks so they could help one another. The long-held tradition in the community was one they all took seriously.

He’d also assured her that other women would come bearing food. So after Harper set up the tables under the big white canopies and organized everything she could possibly organize, she found herself at loose ends.

She had just decided to take a quick drive up to the corrals to see where they were in the branding/vaccination process when Lainie Lawson’s Dodge Durango pulled up to the trailer. She ambled over and saw Lainie unloading a huge box. “Hey, Lainie. Let me help you with that.”

“I’ve got this one, thanks, but there’s another one in the back.”

Harper caught a whiff of something sweet and tangy. “Is this all food? My God. You baked, like . . . half a dozen pies. From scratch.”

“They’re just rhubarb pies. No big deal.”

They carried the two flat boxes over to the tables. Harper’s mouth watered at seeing the perfectly browned crusts and the pink liquid that had bubbled up through the precisely made slits in the center of the top crusts. “Lainie. These look wonderful. I’m afraid if we don’t leave right now I might just sit down and have myself a pie-eatin’ contest.”

Lainie laughed. “I’ll admit I’ve been bribed to share my grandma Elsa’s famous recipe because it’s so darn good.”

“Can I get you something to drink? There’s lemonade and iced tea. And beer. Lots of beer.”

“Cowboys and beer? Say it ain’t so.”

Harper smiled. “Since I’m not much of a beer drinker, Bran bought me ‘bitch beer,’ also known as Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Jack Daniel’s berry-flavored mixers.”

“I’ve never been fond of that term,” Lainie said. “So I’ll take a real man’s beer—Bud Light.”

“Coming right up.”

After they’d cracked the tops and wandered under the tent, Harper caught Lainie giving her a subtle inspection. Paranoid that she’d broken an obscure rancher’s rule, she said, “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“God, no. You look fantastic, as usual. It pisses me off a little, to be real honest. Anyone else would look like a total wannabe cowgirl, wearing that super-girly floral dress and boots to a branding. But it’s a natural look on you.” Lainie swigged her beer. “I’m jealous. Wish I could pull it off.”