Heather's Gift (Men of August 3)

Rick tensed, his muscular body coming to instant alert.

“She’s on duty. That means she doesn’t have time to play,” Rick snapped out.

Sam frowned. “This ranch pays her fucking salary. I say she’s off tonight.”

His voice was just as harsh as Rick’s now. There were few things he had needed in his life like he needed Heather now.

“Don’t pull this shit on me, Sam,” Rick growled. “She’s part of the force. I need her to work sometimes, you know.”

Sam pushed his fingers restlessly through his hair. Rick wasn’t just an employee, he was a friend. That made the whole situation a hell of a lot harder.

“Dammit, Rick. I need her.” He fought the weary vulnerability in his own soul. “She ran from me because she was pissed off. Now tell me where she’s at or I’ll go looking for her.”

Silence thickened between them. Even in the dim light of the moon, Sam could see Rick’s impatience, his indecision.

“You’re a menace to yourself,” he finally snarled back. “She’s out back, around the pool. She’s providing backup if it’s needed.”

“Make damned sure it’s not needed then,” Sam bit out, turning on his heel and stalking along the large porch that wrapped around the house.

At the back corner, a high stone wall protected the pool area and back garden. It rose higher than his head and sheltered the pool area from the eyes of the ranch hands while they worked. Cade had ordered it built when Marly was barely sixteen, and he saw how the area filled with men while she used the pool.

He slipped silently through the entrance, moving along the back porch, his gaze wandering around the area as he sought her out. The blood was pounding through his body, hardening his cock past the point that he considered bearable.

He found her moments later. One of the large, padded, wooden lounge chairs had been pulled into the shelter of several low-branched trees. She was stretched out on it, one arm thrown above her head as she watched him approach her.

Blue jeans conformed to her hips, thighs, and slender legs. And in the dim light of the moon that filtered through the trees, he could see the arousal, the longing in her gaze. Her flame-red hair flowed out around her, her emerald gaze stroking the fire raging through his blood stream to a greater height.

He stopped at the foot of the lounger, staring down at her, dying inside with his need for her. “You weren’t waiting for me.”

He watched as she shifted her legs, then tilted her head to watch him mockingly. “Shame on me.” Her tone held such indulgent sarcasm that it had his teeth gritting as he fought for his own patience.

She had been around them long enough to know what a sexual challenge did to them. How it heightened their arousal, made the need so sharp, so imperative it was like a demon raging inside them.

“That’s okay, baby.” He smiled wickedly. “I found you. You should have known I would.”

She rose up on her elbows, the position highlighting her breasts, the slender line of her ribs and stomach.

“Sam, sweetie,” she said with exaggerated patience. “I’m on duty. I don’t have time to fuck with you tonight.”

“You’re off duty,” he snarled. “You work for me, by God. I decide when you’re on duty and when you aren’t.”

She arched her brow as Sam gritted his teeth at the deliberate mockery in the movement.

“So fire me.” She shrugged. “You’re so testy anymore I’d consider it a vacation to leave this damned ranch.”

He clenched his fists. The smell of Windsong and woman drifted in the air, making him weak, making him need.

“Why are you doing this?” he growled, restraining himself, determined to keep the control he was fighting so desperately for.

“Because I’m not your puppet, Sam, nor do I take orders real damned well. Get used to it, baby, because submissive never was an adjective that fit me very well.”

“Stubborn and bullheaded maybe,” he bit out, breathing harshly. “You’re pushing me too far, Heather. Farther than I would have thought possible. Keep it up, and I’ll hurt both of us.”

Her laughter was soft and filled with silky amusement as her smile lit the darkness around her.

“Be still, my heart. You do have a way with romance, Sam. It just makes my heart go all aflutter to hear your sweet nothings.” Her tone of voice pricked at him. She was pissed—no, he took that back—she was furious. Still.

“I’m not an easy man,” he whispered. “The laughter and jokes, Heather, are gone. I can’t find them anymore. And there never was much romance, baby.”