Spurred On (The Quick and the Hot) (7 page)

“Sweetheart.” He caught her under the chin with a long finger and raised her head to look at him. As their gazes locked, the magnetic pull tore away the last shred of her control. “Tell me you want my fingers stroking your wet folds.”

“Yes,” she rasped.

He caressed the lowest part of her belly. “And buried deep in your pussy.”

“God, yes.” She hung limp, arms around him and suspended on his knee.

“Zoe Beth, this is for me only.” His gaze glittered, hard and immovable.

Of course she didn’t do this with the others. Had never, would never. But he didn’t know that.

She gripped his wrist and guided his hand into her panties, past her trim patch of curls right to her soaking heat. Lust speared her, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

“Christ—” He circled her clit once. Twice. “Say this is for me only.”

“For you,” she cried out as he pressed on the bundle of nerves. Then he was kissing her, stealing her moans of ecstasy while pinching her nipples and stroking her clenching pussy.

Cream flooded his fingers as her pussy spasmed again. He growled against her lips and drove his finger deep. She rocked, riding his hand. He dug his knee into her at the same time, forcing his fingers deeper.

Quakes started at her center and radiated out, capturing her whole body. The orgasm rose swiftly, a flood roaring in her veins. She came with a hard jerk. A scream forced her lips wide, but Hayden sank his tongue into her mouth and stifled the sound.

“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.” His groans vibrated to the pit of her being as the burning knot in her belly loosened. Pulsed. And released.

She fell forward into his embrace.

* * * * *

Something warm settled around Hayden’s heart as he listened to Zoe Beth’s ragged breathing. He continued to stroke her, his touch fleeting against her sensitive folds. When she twitched with the aftershocks, he pulled his hand free.

He didn’t think his cock had ever been harder. It was ready to pop the stitches on his jeans.

When she reached under the back of his shirt and ran her warm hand down his spine, he just about shot his load right there. Gritting his teeth, he inched away from her.

A thousand reasons why he shouldn’t finish what he’d started revolved through his mind. Several big reasons glared at him—the bead of wetness on her lower lip from his kisses, the harsh sound of her breathing. And Christ, the scent of her arousal.

He zipped her jeans—a blatant denial that more action was to come.

She sucked in a quiet breath.

Backing off, he was thankful for the darkness. If he saw her face, he’d never be able to walk away. “That was the hottest experience of my life, Zoe Beth, but I can’t take it further.”

Without a word, throat burning, he slipped out of the barn. The cool night air embraced him. A floodlight cast its greenish glow over the path to the bunkhouse, and it illuminated the plume of his frustrated sigh.

“Fuck,” he muttered, wishing he could scream it to the heavens. A gorgeous and worthy woman was back there in the barn waiting for him, and he’d run away. Not a Buckle Bunny eager for his attention after a good bull ride, but a woman who deserved to be loved and cared for. Worshipped maybe.

His heart was a wild mustang, racing out of control—something he couldn’t afford to feel.

He slammed the heel of his hand off the side of an outbuilding as he passed. The rough wood scratched his palm, and he curled his fingers around the pain. Clinging to the sting rather than face the ache in his chest—or his balls.

Shit, now you’ve done it.
Thinking about his unfulfilled desires made his cock jerk in his pants. He nudged it to keep it from getting pinched. Then he did the mother of all stupid things—he rubbed his hand over his face.

Catching the scent of Zoe Beth’s sweet pussy.

He stopped dead in his tracks, every muscle shaking to return to her. But she wouldn’t be receptive now after he’d abandoned her.

What kind of shitty man makes a woman come, then walks out on her? An asshole.
She deserved to be stroked and held as her afterglow faded. Instead he’d left her in a cold, dark barn alone.

Changing paths, he veered away from the bunkhouse and headed into the open field. Running. But digging his boots into the turf did nothing to alleviate his self-disgust or the throb in his groin.

He ran until his lungs burned. Then he walked until his muscles quivered and dawn was a faint gray band on the horizon. As he walked what had to be his tenth mile, he told himself it was for the best—he’d done the right thing. Getting entangled with the boss’s daughter was the biggest mistake in the rule book.

He twisted on a heel, ready to race back to the ranch, wake Zoe Beth and apologize. But she wouldn’t accept an idiot like him now.

“Goddammit.” By the time he hit the horse barn, exhaustion pressed on his shoulders and sweat soaked his shirt. He shed it and stepped into the dim space. No sign of Zoe Beth.

His heart plummeted. Part of him had hoped she would still be here, maybe curled up on some blankets near the calf’s stall.

He peeked over the stall door at Five Feet. The calf raised its head—an improvement over last night.

Pushing out a long breath, Hayden grabbed the nearby ladder and started to climb into the upper loft. Hay was stacked here to the rafters. He caught the twine on one bale and flipped it over the edge. It struck the floor with a
whomp
. Dust scattered.

Several horses whickered at this wake-up call. He tossed another bale to the floor. Ten more and he was ready to clean stalls.

Throwing himself into his work was all he knew how to do. By the time the roosters started crowing and the scents of food drifted from the main house, he’d torn through several horse stalls. Clean hay graced the floors, and the old had been hauled away.

“Yo, Meadows.”

He spun. One of the older ranch hands, Buck, stood in the doorway, thumbs hitched in his pockets. “What’re you doin’? This work is beneath a foreman.”

“Needed to clear my mind. Couldn’t sleep.”

“I can see that. You must have been at it for almost an hour. Peculiar. We work hard all day—no need to get up and at it earlier than necessary.” Buck shifted toward the last stall that housed Five Feet, and Hayden’s heart lurched.

He stomped down the center aisle, found his abandoned shirt, and grasped Buck’s shoulder. His hands smarted from shoveling without gloves, and he flexed his fingers to hold on to the small bit of pain he deserved for hurting Zoe Beth.

“I smell eggs frying. Let’s get some chow,” Hayden said to Buck, steering the hand out of the barn and propelling him toward the house.

Then he detoured to the bunkhouse where he did a cursory wash and changed his clothes. His mind spun. Would Zoe Beth be at breakfast? If so, what would he say? Could he get her alone to say he was sorry?

After giving himself another damn good mental thrashing, he made it to the house. The chatter of the men reached him through the door. Holding his breath, Hayden walked into the kitchen and scanned the long table.

Every man was present, including Val. But two seats stood empty—his and one for a special little cowgirl who’d deserved to be treated better.

Three more days passed without Hayden setting eyes on Zoe Beth.

Chapter Five

Zoe Beth caught sight of a familiar cowboy hat and an even more familiar person wearing it. She darted behind the tractor and circled back to the barn. Damn, it was getting difficult to avoid Hayden. Two thousand acres, and the man seemed to be everywhere she went.

Heart drumming, she lengthened her strides to reach the barn before he glimpsed her walking away. She burned to look back but focused on her destination.

A cat rubbed her ankles as she reached the barn. She stooped to scratch its striped ears. “Taking good care of my baby?”

The calf was improving daily, and as far as she knew no one had discovered it. She’d removed the ear tag marking it as Joseph Michaels’s animal, but the resulting hole in the soft flesh would be a dead giveaway. While Joseph tagged his calves within the first hours of life, that wasn’t their way on the Cole Ranch.

Her softhearted father believed in keeping mother and baby penned up together until the calf was a bit older. At three months they’d mark the young ones as Cole stock.

She moved toward the stall, trying to put Hayden firmly out of her mind.

“Zoe Beth, what are you doing in here?”

Her heart rocketed into her throat where it throbbed a painful staccato. “Daddy.”

Another step behind him, and Hayden appeared. Across the space his gaze latched on to her. Slowly, he raised a hand to push his hat back farther.

Sparks fed the want she’d been feeling since the moment he pulled his hands free of her panties. Her knees turned to the consistency of Mattie’s homemade marmalade, and she steeled herself to keep from falling on her face.

“Just a minute, Meadows,” her father said. He paced toward Zoe Beth. To keep him as far from the calf as possible, she walked forward to meet him. Which meant getting closer to Hayden.

Every forward stride hurt as if he’d snagged her heart with a big ole treble hook and was reeling her in.

Not this time. She’d been stupid enough.

“You’re acting strange. What were you doing in here?” her father asked for a second time.

“I was just going to see to Haywire’s cut,” she lied. The horse had a scrape on its left leg, but she’d checked the wound and applied salve to it earlier.

Her father went into the office where she and Hayden had accidentally met that night, and came out with a jar of salve. “Clean the wound, make sure it’s dry, and apply this.”

As she accepted the container, her face burned. She kept her gaze from Hayden’s. It was bad enough her father was treating her as if she knew nothing, but in front of the man who’d stroked her to completion a few nights ago?

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Use a soft cloth to apply it. If you see infection—redness or swelling—call me or Hayden here. We’ll take a look.”

Zoe Beth’s ire rose. Straightening her shoulders, she met her father’s gaze head on. Did he really believe she was so ill trained? She’d spent her whole life watching men care for these animals before she’d ever thought to take over on her own.

Hayden made a movement that caught her attention. She darted a look at him.

And nearly crumpled to the floor at his blazing expression. Fierce. Wanting.

Filled with lust.

Her nipples bunched up hard, and he dropped his gaze to where they obviously poked against her thin T-shirt. His throat worked with a long swallow.

Her face was on fire both from his unwanted attention and her daddy making her look like a fool in front of Hayden, but she gave a nod. Without a word, she unlatched Haywire’s door and closed herself inside with the giant animal.

“Were you looking for me, Meadows?” her father asked.

“Oh.” Hayden sounded distracted, his voice too near the stall where Zoe Beth wished she could hide. “Yes. I wanted to talk to you about the woods we’re clearing.”

“Let’s discuss it over coffee. I could use a cup. It’s been a long morning.” Her father raised his voice. “You doing all right, Zoe Beth?”

The urge to yell and kick the wooden walls stole her sanity. For a maddening moment she feared she would totally lose it. But she couldn’t afford to toss away control. To act out would only pile more disrespect on her head.

“Fine,” she said tightly.

She waited for their footsteps to vanish. Then she left Haywire’s stall. “Infuriating man. I know how to care for a wound. Who does he think I am? Some rodeo queen waiting for the next competition so I can wear my prettiest leather fringe coat?” She was as tough and knowledgeable as any man on the ranch.

And Hayden… God, the look on his face had seared through her core and had her soaking wet. They both seemed ready to go up in flames.

Buck and Mark passed the open barn door. Mark’s voice reached her clearly. “What’s up with Meadows? I asked him a question, and he about snapped my head off.”

“Not sure. He’s been out of sorts for three days. Twice I’ve caught him working at night. Says he’s trying to clear his mind.”

Three days.
Was it possible he’d been just as affected by their erotic encounter as she was?

“We asked him to head into town for a drink on Saturday, and he said he had work to do. Seems odd, a man working that much and not taking time to share a beer with the guys. Roddy always jumped at the chance to buy us a round on a Saturday night. It’s just about the only downtime we’ve got.” Mark stopped in the doorway to spit a stream of tobacco into the bushes.

“That so? Well, maybe Meadows will find his place. He’s only been here a week. Give him a bit of time to get settled.”

“I don’t know him well, but he seems mighty flighty for a foreman.”

Buck paused too and nodded.

Oh no.
Their view of Hayden was not good. If they thought he was too distracted to do his duties, word would get back to her father, and Hayden’s job would be on the line.

That’s what I want, isn’t it?

No, it wasn’t. Maybe the first day she’d wanted to see Hayden Meadows ride off the Cole Ranch so she could have a shot at his job. But now she saw what people thought of her—she was the daughter of Val Cole, not the son, and he thought her incapable of even tending a wound without instruction.

Her daddy would never hand over the multimillion-dollar ranch to her.

She dropped her chin to her chest and stared at her boots until the tears blurring her vision dried up. There was only one thing to do.

Find Hayden and let him know he needed to jump into the saddle and amp up his game.

* * * *

When Zoe Beth entered the kitchen for the noon meal, Hayden stopped breathing. She glided toward the end of the table, little booted feet tapping on the wood floor in time to his heart.

“Good to see you’re feeling better,” Mark said as she passed.

“Thanks, Mark”

Hayden ground his teeth. The way the ranch hand’s gaze lingered on her backside as she moved away from him made Hayden want to bloody his nose.