Cowboy Heaven (10 page)

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait forever. Troy slipped in at about one o'clock with some interesting news.

“Whoo-ee,” he exclaimed softly. “You should have heard the Miss-Angela-is-strictly-off-limits lecture we got this evening. You might not think you're a nun, baby, but Ruthless Rufus makes you sound like a candidate for sainthood.”

“You've got to be kidding,” I protested. “Trust me, I'm nothing but a worthless little airhead to him. He's always very polite, of course, but he's never taken me seriously, especially since Cody died. To make anything I say carry any weight at all, I have to make it sound like a direct quote from my father.”

Troy snuggled in beside me, his welcome presence suffusing me with warm contentment. “Maybe so, but he's got you up on a pedestal, good and proper. I, on the other hand, think women on pedestals are highly overrated. I prefer my women closer to the ground—makes them easier for someone like me to reach.” To lend credence to that statement, he draped an arm and a leg over me and pulled me against the full length of his body. His hard cock poked me in the stomach. “As far as I'm concerned, you're the hottest bundle of woman I've ever had my arms around.”

“Nice of you to say so,” I drawled. “Especially when I haven't seen you for days on end.”

He gave me a quick squeeze. “Sorry about that, but I was in no condition to visit you. I'd forgotten what it was like to spend the whole fucking day in the saddle.”

“Not very conducive to fucking, is it?”

“Not at all,” he agreed. “But I think the blisters on my balls have finally callused over.” Burrowing a hand beneath my head, he pulled me closer, brushing a kiss on my cheek. “So, Angie, since you wouldn't tell Rufus the truth, would you mind telling
me
what you were doing in the bunkhouse with Dusty?”

“Believe it or not, I went out there hoping to find you. Dusty came in and caught me sniffing your cologne.”

“That explains why he seems so irritated with me. He likes you, Angela. You know that, don't you?”

“I do now,” I admitted. “He told me as much this afternoon.”

“I'm pretty sure Rufus knows it too. He directed the lion's share of the lecture right at him. He didn't mention any names, but I'd be willing to bet Dusty won't be visiting you anytime soon, not unless he wants Rufus on his ass day and night.”

“Since Dusty's never
visited
me before, I don't think he'll start now.” I paused as another thought occurred to me. “I'm curious, though. Did Rufus say anything to Joe?”

Troy chuckled against my neck, releasing tendrils of desire that triggered a delightful tingle in my nipples.

“Not really,” he replied. “But you should've heard Joe after Rufus left and we all went to bed. I figured you'd only said that to put Rufus off the scent, but you sure made Joe happy. He couldn't stop talking about it. Do you realize you've never so much as touched him before? He probably won't wash that shoulder for a month.”

As rarely as I'd put a hand on any of the others, it was safe to assume I hadn't done it to anyone as shy as Joe. I'd never heard him string more than five or six words together at a time, and he was nearly always staring down at the ground when he said them. The fact that he couldn't stop talking about
anything
seemed a tad out of character.

“I wanted to pat him on the butt,” I admitted. “Must be your influence. You've turned me into a real flirt.”

“You probably oughta flirt some with me too—and be sure you do it in front of Rufus so Joe and Dusty don't take all the heat. You weren't kidding when you told me we'd have to be sneaky about this. How in the hell do you think you're going to get us all out of the bunkhouse for a night on the town? I wouldn't put it past Rufus to bar the door.”

“I'd like to see him try,” I growled.

“He just might,” Troy said. “We could go without any fuss, but if Rufus knew you were going with us…”

“Sounds like
I'll
be the one who has to sneak out,” I said. “I've never been able to understand his attitude—or Dad's. They're two of a kind when it comes to proper female behavior, but at least I don't work for him. It's a wonder the men haven't all up and quit because of his puritanical attitudes.”

Troy slipped his hands beneath my pajama top and rubbed my back in a sensuous manner, proving his own attitudes were anything but puritanical. “He seems to have them all brainwashed into thinking a woman like you wouldn't be interested in the likes of them. I wish you could've heard the lecture. It was enough to make a man give up and ship out on a freighter for the rest of his life—or get a job mopping floors in a whorehouse.”

“No wonder they act so weird around me! They've always made me feel like I'm bestowing some great favor anytime I glance in their direction. Most of them won't look me in the eye, especially if Rufus is around.”

That also explained what Dusty had said when he asked me to kiss him—that we were alone and no one else would ever know about it. Obviously, he'd meant Rufus. Oh yes, the pedestal I'd been put on explained a lot.

“He
is
something of a tyrant,” Troy said.

“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to him, but the men probably wouldn't give me a second thought if Rufus had kept his mouth shut and left them alone.”

“I doubt that. You're worth second, third, and fourth thoughts.” He punctuated his sentence with a deep, searing kiss that put a curl in my toes. “I've missed you, baby.”

Clearly there was no need for me to fire his ass as my boy toy—yet. Aside from the fact that his ass was much too awesome to ignore, he did have a reasonable excuse. I'd been saddle sore a few times myself.

As I reached around him to get my hands on his adorable tush, I was reminded of at least one other butt that was drool-worthy. Dusty had a pretty nice one. I knew that because I'd been surreptitiously checking it out anytime the opportunity presented itself for quite a while now. I'd even been known to take a peek at it when Cody was alive. As the saying went, I might have been on a diet, but I could still look at the menu.

I couldn't help wondering who I would pick as the winner of a “Best Buns” contest between my cowboys. Rufus might have won that contest a few years back, but since I was pissed at him, I'd have to disqualify him on the grounds that his butt should be smacked rather than admired. I'd never given any of the others much thought before, which was odd considering my fondness for that particular facet of the male anatomy. I promised myself to pay more attention to them in the future. But at that moment, I had my hands on Troy's sweet ass, and I fully intended to give it my undivided attention.

Recalling the fantasy that had him on his hands and knees with his butt in my face had me reaching for the switch on my bedside lamp.

“What's the matter?” Troy asked, squinting at the sudden brightness.

“Nothing,” I replied. “I just want to be able to see you.”

“A candle is easier on the eyes and much more romantic.”

“Sounds good—that is, if I can find one.” Cody and I had used candles from time to time, so I knew I had one somewhere, but it took some digging in the nightstand to find it and a box of matches. I lit the wick and switched off the lamp.

“Would you do something for me?” I asked as I lay back down.

“Sure, babe,” he murmured. “I'll do anything you like.”

“Turn over on your stomach.”

“No problem.”

The candlelight flickered as it illuminated the contours of his body, highlighting the curves and deepening the shadows as he moved. Contrary to popular belief, men's bodies aren't all planes and angles. Soft curvatures flowed over Troy's back, beginning with the rolled edges of his shoulder blades and on down into the crevice along his spine. Those same curves rose up to form two mounds that fit my hands as though they had been designed specifically for my grasp.

My fingertips tingled as I traced the hollow of his flanks while I knelt between his parted thighs. I took my time, devouring him with each of my senses, delighting in his soft moans when I touched him in ways that pleased him. Urging him up onto his knees, I moved him back against me before rocking him forward once again. The view from that perspective was somewhat voyeuristic, almost as though I were watching him from behind as he made love to someone else. Whatever the cause, it doubled my desire for him.

I pushed him sideways, enabling light to reach the space beneath him. A sparkling ribbon of moisture trailed from the head of his penis, the mere sight of which made me gasp. Some women will tell you such a spectacle does nothing to entice them; I am not one of those women. My body shuddered with anticipation as I took his hard cock in my hand, feeling its weight and girth. Leaning down, I licked the space just above his scrotum, tracing the line where the two halves of him met to form what resembled a scar.

With gentle strokes, I smoothed the warm syrup along his heated skin until he was wet enough to allow my fist to move up and down his shaft in a frictionless glide. I kissed him, sucking the smooth folds of skin into my mouth along with the most sensitive and vulnerable parts of his delectable body. Teasing his testicles with my tongue, I was rewarded as he groaned into his pillow. I wrapped my free arm around his hip for support and settled in to continue for as long as it took to make him come.

Even though I wasn't getting any attention myself, after a few minutes I was so wet it didn't matter, and I came twice while I was doing him. I knew he would be hard again in twenty minutes, and I would get my turn, so I kept on, relentlessly massaging his cock and savoring his balls until a loud gasp warned me he was almost there. Releasing his scrotum, I rolled him onto his back. Still gripping his slick, engorged penis, I aimed it at my mouth just as he began to spurt. I didn't miss a drop as I went down on him.

Troy seemed almost frantic, reaching for me, begging me not to move because he couldn't take any more. His cock pulsed again and again in the most prolonged male orgasm I'd ever witnessed. Finally, when I thought he could stand it, I sucked his dick dry and moved up to lie beside him.

His eyes were closed, his breathing heavy. Snuggling closer, I lay my hand on his chest. Troy reached up, touching my hand briefly before his arm flopped back down.

“I'll be with you in a minute, baby,” he said. “I'm gonna need a little time to recover from
that
.”

I let him be and simply lay there, enjoying his warmth and listening to him breathe. How nice it would be to have him with me all the time. So very, very nice…

Bending my knee, I eased my leg over his, increasing my awareness of the slickness between my thighs. I hadn't been that wet in ages, but I knew it wasn't only due to the anticipation of what he might do to me. That arousal was the result of the pleasure of knowing he'd enjoyed what I'd done to him. Knowing I had taken him to a level where he truly couldn't take any more was exhilarating, and it made me long to do it again and again and again. That thought alone sent heat rushing to my core, triggering yet another powerful climax.

Moments later, a miraculously revived Troy began kissing me and pushed me onto my back. Trailing languid kisses from my lips to my breasts, he moved ever downward over my tingling body until he buried his face in my pussy. Once there, he did the most delightful things with his tongue, flicking my clitoris until I thought I'd go mad, then delving deeply for several undulating strokes before starting again. He seemed to be as comfortable as I had been and appeared to have every intention of eating my pussy until I came in his mouth. Still, I couldn't stop thinking about that cream-covered dick of his. I knew I'd never be satisfied until I tasted more of it.

Troy must have read my mind because he got up and turned around. “Hey, Angie,” he whispered. “How about sucking my dick while I lick you?”

I caught a brief glimpse of his hard, glistening cock before he slid it past my lips and settled down on me, drawing my clit into his mouth. We sucked each other for possibly three ecstatic minutes until he came with a groan, spurting his seed down my throat. As if his cock in my mouth and his mouth on me weren't enough, he pushed his thumb inside, sweeping circles around my slick inner walls. With a multitude of overwhelming sensations bombarding me at once, I climaxed almost immediately. My orgasmic scream was stifled by the thick cock in my mouth. Otherwise I'm sure even Dad would have heard me.

With a great deal of reluctance, I let go of him and he reversed his position to lie beside me. Taking me in his arms, he kissed me in a lazy, relaxed fashion that reminded me of a slow Southern drawl. I have no idea how long he kept it up, but I was drifting in and out of sleep when he murmured, “Once more and I've got to go.”

I'm sure I must've muttered something suitable in reply because he rose up on his knees and found his way inside me yet again, this time using his awesome cock instead of his tongue or his thumb. By then I was so thoroughly fucked I couldn't even raise my head.

Apparently Troy had more energy left than I did. Scooping up my legs, he placed my feet on his shoulders before picking up a steady rhythm that seemed to go on for days. I should've been long past caring whether I ever had another orgasm again, but his cock slowly brought me to life. Soon he had me moaning in ecstasy as my core gripped his cock. His third climax of the night was longer in coming than the first two, but it gave me no less satisfaction.

When he finally left me, I was on the verge of sleep, fully intending to dream up some excuse to double his salary at my earliest opportunity.

I awoke the next morning feeling better than I had in years—fresh, invigorated, and satisfied. The weather was absolutely beautiful with a sky so clear and blue it hurt my eyes to look at it. The heat wave we'd been experiencing seemed to have passed, the temperature having drifted down to a more normal range. I drove into town to do some shopping, noting that the price of gas had fallen as well.

Unfortunately, anytime I have such a perfect day, storm clouds are nearly always lurking beyond the horizon. I've noticed I often feel the best just before I come down with some bug or other. Perhaps my body knows it's been invaded and the marshaling of the troops gives me an overall boost of adrenaline, but whatever the reason, I can feel my blood pumping and my heart singing.

Granted, amazing sex can evoke a similar response, but I'd had other highly satisfying encounters in my life. This was different, although I couldn't have said why. All I knew was that as I strolled down the grocery aisles, I felt taller, stronger, and more beautiful than ever before. I might have been living inside a different body, one that fit me better and reacted more promptly to my directions—the body I should have had all along. My mood never faltered, even after I paid a small fortune for a few sacks of perfectly ordinary groceries. On the way home, I rolled the windows down and cranked up the radio, singing nonstop at the top of my lungs until I drove up to the house.

Dad was fussing about something when I got there. However, his griping didn't bother me a bit. I flat out didn't care. A disaster of some kind might've spoiled my mood, but with none in the offing, my head remained firmly in the clouds. Feeling the way I did, I didn't want to have dinner alone with Dad. I wanted company, camaraderie, and conversation. I'll admit to having sounded slightly abrupt when I told him he could either fend for himself when dinnertime rolled around or he could go to the mess hall and have dinner with the guys.

Which was exactly what I did.

I surprised Calvin with a few goodies for the kitchen and stayed to help him prepare the meal. Then I sat down to share it with them. I didn't care if Rufus disapproved. I wasn't going to let him ruin my day. I even hugged Dusty when he came in to help me peel the potatoes, my insistence that they were better with the skins left on having fallen on deaf ears.

I knew the men had been given a lecture about staying away from me, but I'd had no such lecture—at least not lately. I flirted a tiny bit with every single one of them. I even told Rufus I liked his haircut. Saying something kind to Bull was tough, although I did mention that Jenny would adore his mustache, which seemed to please him. When I sat down beside Joe, his blush could've set the table on fire. Later on, I wound up pressing my arm against his side while reaching for the saltshaker. If Troy was correct in assuming Joe wouldn't wash the shoulder I'd patted him on, he was really going to stink up the bunkhouse now.

As I could've predicted, Rufus kept any thoughts he might have had on the sudden change in my behavior to himself. That was my chief complaint about Rufus. He was too hard to read. With the possible exception of the episode in the bunkhouse, his face seldom revealed what was going on inside his head. I didn't want to be the cause of another of his tirades, but I must say, the men seemed happier and more relaxed. I didn't do anything outrageous. I simply behaved the way any woman would while in the company of male friends.

After dinner, Troy and I washed the dishes. Not surprisingly, the cocky fellow had his own ideas about why I was in such a good mood.

“Someone's awfully happy today,” he said in a teasing undertone. “Why
is
that, I wonder? You must have had some really nice dreams last night.”

“You know, I
did
have a dream,” I said. “It was about this hot, tasty cowboy…”

“Hot, tasty cow
girl
, you mean.”

“Not in
my
dream. Trust me on this one. In my dream, it was a boy, and he was so handsome and sweet and sexy and wonderful and lovable…” I bit my lip for emphasis. “I could go on, but I wouldn't want him to get a swelled head.”

“You're too late,” he said, scratching his ear. “That ship has sailed.”

“Aw, what a shame. I was looking forward to, um, polishing the brass, blowing out the pipes, that sort of thing.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” he suggested. “Better not do that too often. You wouldn't want to wear holes in the pipes now, would you?”

“I'd like to try.”

We probably would've kept on in that vein for as long as it took to wash the dishes if Joe hadn't come in at that point, telling Troy that Calvin wanted to talk with him. Tossing his dish towel to Joe, Troy sauntered off.

When Joe came over to the sink, I handed him a dripping saucepan, which he promptly dropped.

“Good thing we aren't using Grandma's china.” Making a man get all butterfingered and tongue-tied was a novel experience for me, and I must admit I enjoyed it immensely—although I did my best not to laugh.

“Sorry.” Blushing, he stooped to retrieve the pan. “I'm not usually so clumsy.”

“What's your excuse for being clumsy now?”

He hung his head. “I lied. Calvin didn't want to talk to Troy.
I
wanted to talk to
you
.”

This was surprising. “Really? What about?”

“About something Rufus said.”

He was silent for a long moment. Apparently, I was going to have to drag it out of him. “What did Rufus say?”

When Joe took a deep breath, I was pretty sure he was about to regale me with the details of the lecture Rufus had given them the night before.

As it turned out, that wasn't it.

“He said Dusty was a troublemaker and he was going to get rid of him.”

I frowned. “Troublemaker? In what way?”

Joe shrugged. “I guess because he's different from the rest of us. Rufus thinks he's stirring up things to cause trouble.”

“He told you that?”

“No, I heard him tell Calvin,” he replied. “I don't think they knew I was listening.”

“I don't get it,” I said. “Dusty's worked here for years and I've never heard a single complaint about him. And what do you mean he's different?”

“I don't think he's a troublemaker myself. But he
is
different. He's a lot smarter than we are—better with horses, better at a lot of things, not to mention better-looking. I like him, and I'd trust him more than a lot of people you could name.”

“So would I.” Which was a bit of an understatement. “Did Rufus say what kind of trouble Dusty was supposed to be stirring up?”

“Not exactly. He just said he didn't want that kind of trouble around here.”

“Wish he'd been more specific. That could mean anything.” I couldn't remember the last time we'd had a problem with any of the men. Perhaps it was because Rufus tended to weed out the bad ones, but I'd never heard him say he was going to “get rid” of someone.

“He said Dusty had made too much trouble already, and he wasn't going to put up with it anymore.”

“I still don't get it. Since when has Dusty ever caused a problem?”

Joe shrugged again. “I don't know, maybe it's because he broke his leg.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I said. “I don't suppose you heard anything else, did you?”

“No. I'd have felt weird telling Mr. Kincaid, but you, well… I just thought you should know.” He finished his sentence in a bit of a rush, turning a charming shade of pink when I smiled at him.

“Thank you for telling me, Joe. Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do about it.”

“I'll let you know if I hear anything else.” He stood there for a moment, as though he had more to say or was expecting something from me. An instant later, he went and gathered up more dishes.

He was quiet after that. I chattered on about something, I have no recollection of what exactly, but I did notice he got more fidgety with each passing moment.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. “What's up with you now, Joe?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his face a wooden mask and his voice perfectly neutral.

“I doubt that,” I retorted. “You're acting grumpier than a wounded bear. Come on. Tell me. Or is it just that you don't want to do dishes anymore?”

“No,” he replied. “I don't know, I…” He shook his head and shrugged in such a pitiful manner I wanted to hug him.

So I did—which was why when Rufus walked in a moment later, Joe and I were in each other's arms.

Damn.

It was a safe bet that before long, I'd be hearing about yet another lecture—unless Rufus chose to deliver it right there on the spot. I must've been listening to the devil on my left shoulder rather than the angel on my right, because the next thing I did was to take Joe's face in my hands and plant a big, juicy kiss right smack-dab on his astonished lips.

“I hope you get to feeling better, Joe.” I patted his cheek. Taking a step back, I aimed a dish towel at Rufus, which he caught on the fly. “Here. You can finish the dishes. I've got better things to do.”

Hooking Joe by the arm, I left the kitchen with him in tow, not waiting for a response from Rufus. I hadn't a clue what I was going to do with Joe next. I only wanted to get him away from there before all hell broke loose. Then I remembered I was supposed to be flirting with Troy to take the heat off Joe and Dusty. Thus far, I hadn't done a very good job. Of course, if Rufus really wanted to get rid of Dusty, I could have supplied him with all sorts of excuses, starting with that kiss in the bunkhouse.

On the other hand, Joe's job was probably safe, so maybe it was better to flirt with him instead of Troy after all. I wasn't ready to give up my boy toy just yet, and I certainly didn't want to give Rufus any ideas. In fact, I was trying to figure out a way to keep Troy on after Dusty's leg healed without admitting I only wanted him for my own personal use. Although I didn't see a problem with that, no doubt everyone else would.

Having left the kitchen, I thought it best to leave the mess hall altogether. Joe seemed to think leaving the country was a good idea.

“Boy, am I in trouble now,” he exclaimed. “Rufus thought Dusty was a troublemaker. Now he'll be after me.”

“I doubt that. Besides, Rufus can't fire any of you without consulting Dad and me, and I wouldn't let them do it.”

“I don't think you realize what working here means, Angela,” he said in a serious tone. “We got a pretty stern talking-to last night—Dusty in particular—and I don't know if you understand why. Did you know one of the rules for working here is that you are strictly off-limits? It's not written down anywhere, but we all know getting caught even looking at you is grounds for a lecture. If anyone ever said something like, ‘the boss is really hot,' Rufus would run him out on a rail, whether you approved or not.”

Apparently this had been going on for a lot longer than I thought. Although having heard the most recent story from Troy, I shouldn't have been surprised. “Oh hell. I suppose kissing you will get you tarred and feathered?”

“Probably not, but this is a first. As far back as I can remember, you've never kissed any of us, and while I wouldn't have missed it for the world, I'll bet it causes trouble. I wouldn't be the first cowboy to get fired because of you, and there've been a couple who've gotten the shit beat out of 'em.”

“By who?” I demanded, although I was fairly certain I knew the answer.

“Rufus,” he replied. “I haven't been here as long as he has, of course, but from what I've heard, he's been doing it ever since you were a kid.”

“Why am I only hearing about this now? Why has no one ever said anything to me before?”

He shrugged. “I guess we didn't figure it was worth risking our jobs over. It wasn't until Dusty got hurt that I started thinking there might be more to it.”

As little as Joe had ever said to me, I never would've guessed he had a thought in his head outside of what it took for him to do his job. I'd known him for perhaps three years, but now that I thought about it, I really didn't know him at all. Nor could I see what Dusty's accident had to do with anything.

Unless it
wasn't
an accident.

My mouth went dry as I considered what might have happened to Dusty if his saddle had broken anywhere but in the corral. He could have been out on his own somewhere, looking for strays in a treacherous ravine, just as Cody had been. It had taken two days of frantic searching to find Cody. Two horrible, nerve-racking, terrifying days…

“C'mon, Joe,” I said. “Let's go water the horses or feed the chickens or something. I'm not going to say anything more until I know we won't be overheard.”

I kept my mouth shut, but my thoughts were racing wildly. There was another difference between Dusty and the other men. He was the only one I'd ever truly looked back at since Cody died. Rufus must have known I liked Dusty and would protest if he were to be fired or beaten to a pulp. But I couldn't have done much about it if he'd had an accident and been injured to the point he would be unfit for ranch work, or if he'd been killed…

Rufus's plan, if it
was
planned, had backfired on him. A broken leg had resulted in me having more contact with Dusty instead of less. Then there was Troy. I wondered if Rufus knew about our arrangement. So far, it didn't appear that he did, and I planned to keep it that way. If the guys I liked ended up having “accidents,” then Troy might be in danger at some point.

And now, thanks to me, Joe might also be in danger.

I was beginning to feel like a damned jinx.