Wildcat

Catie Wilds pulled at her earlobe as she guided her battered ranch pickup into the parking lot of the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department. She’d had it up to
here
with the damn cattle rustling, and she was determined to give the sheriff a piece of her mind.

After she parked, she stormed out of the pickup, slamming the door behind her. Catie had been pissed about Dean MacLeod’s cattle being stolen, but now that the Wilds Ranch had been ripped off, it was definitely
personal.

Shoving the glass doors open, Catie stomped into the reception area.

A busty brunette raised a sculpted eyebrow, her scarlet lips set in a what-the-hell-do-you-want smile. “May I help you?”

“I’d like to see Sheriff Savage.” Catie propped her hands on her slim jean-clad hips. “Now.”

“I don’t think he’s available.” Boob Queen gave a don’t-you-wish-he-was-available sniff as she picked up the phone. “Let me check.”

Her temper escalating beyond eruption level, Catie glanced past the reception area. She looked into a room that was empty save for desks sporting computers and equipment…and that sorry excuse for a deputy, Ryan Forrester.

Without so much as a by-your-leave, Catie turned on her booted heel and headed straight for Forrester. She set her gaze on stun with shoot-to-kill as an alternative if the deputy didn’t give her satisfaction.

“You can’t…” Miss Mega-Tits spouted behind Catie.

“I need a word with you.” Catie strode right up to Ryan, propped her hands on her hips, and frowned up at him. At only five foot four, she only came to the deputy’s shoulder—but her glare was enough to cut down a man three times her size. And Catie knew how to wield her icy gaze like a sword.

Ryan’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he diverted his eyes, waving off Boob Woman, then turned his attention back to Catie. “What do you need, Cat?”

“I’ll
tell
you what I need.” Catie poked one finger at his deputy’s star, punctuating each word with a jab at the metal. “I need my goddamned heifers back. I need you guys to get off your asses and figure out who the hell is stealing everyone’s cattle.”

Forrester stepped back. “We’re working on it.”

“Don’t give me that crap.” Catie advanced on the deputy as he retreated. “Get me the sheriff.
Now.
”

“What can I do for you?” A deep rumbling voice startled Catie out of her tirade and shivers shot down her spine.

She whipped her head to the side and her gaze locked with the most amazing crystalline green eyes—and the hottest man she’d ever seen. Her panties grew damp, every coherent thought fleeing her mind as she got lost in the pull of those magnetic eyes.

He had his hip and shoulder propped against the doorway of an office, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his snug Wranglers, and a copper sheriff’s star on his shirt. The man raised one hand to push up the brim of his tan felt Stetson as he studied her. His sable mustache twitched as he smiled, causing Catie’s small nipples to harden into tiny torpedoes pointed straight at him.

Oh. My. God.
For the first time in her life, Catie Wilds was speechless.

Sheriff Jarrod Savage studied the little wildcat who’d stormed into his office and ripped Deputy Forrester a new one. Damn she’d been cute as she’d spouted off at Forrester. Jarrod had enjoyed watching the flush in her fair cheeks, how her short blonde hair shimmered as she spoke and the way that sprinkling of freckles made her look so damn adorable.

He’d almost hated to interrupt her. And now…
well, hell
. The desire that sparked in those chocolate brown eyes charged up his own libido and it’d be a wonder if no one noticed the hardening in his cock. Something in his gut told him this was a woman worth getting to know—in every way a man could know a woman.

He pushed away from the door of his office and strode toward her. “Jarrod Savage,” he said as he held out his hand.

Forrester mumbled something about “work to be done,” and headed on out of the office, leaving Jarrod alone with the woman in the empty control room.

“Catie Wilds.” The petite woman drew herself up and raised her chin as she took his hand.

Her vanilla musk teased his senses, along with the current sizzling between them as he took her hand in his. He wished he wasn’t on duty so he could make things a little more personal between them. “A most definite pleasure, Catie Wilds.”

As though remembering why she was there in the first place, the little spitfire pulled her hand from his and stepped back. “This cattle rustling bullshit has gone on long enough.”

Jarrod nodded as he hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “You’re telling me.”

“Well what do you intend to do about it?” Catie put her hands on her hips, that fiery glint back in her eyes. “We just lost fifteen heifers last night. We’re one of the smaller ranches in the area, and that’s something we sure as hell can’t afford.”

Frustration at their inability to track the bastards down was a fire in Jarrod’s gut. “Believe me, we’re putting everything and everyone we can on it.”

“Obviously that’s not good enough.” Catie raised her chin. “What’s it been? Six weeks since this whole mess started?”

Jarrod ran a hand over his mustache. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we’re working on it.”

“Well that’s just
great.
” The little wildcat spun on her heel and marched out of the control room.

He had to hold back a smile as he watched the natural sway of her slim hips as she headed out the front door, muttering something about, “Damn bureaucrats.”

Jarrod shifted his position, trying to alleviate the new ache in his cock.

Looked like he’d have to pay a visit to the Wilds Ranch.

Chapter One

Catie Wilds checked the grandfather clock in the hallway and smiled. It was almost time for her
rendezvous.
Just the thought of what she was about to do made her feel naughty and absolutely delicious inside.

Wood floorboards creaked under her bare feet as she hurried to her bedroom. The old ranch house smelled of dust, lemon oil, and the single-serving lasagna she’d nuked in the microwave earlier. Unlike the modern MacLeod ranch house, Catie’s home was well over a century old and looked every bit of it. But it was home.

When she reached her room, she closed the door in case her older brother Steve happened to come home early. The two had been running the ranch together since their father and his wife—number six—had been killed in a car accident, some five years ago.

And of course they hadn’t seen their “real” mother since they were in elementary school. The woman had run off with a muscle-bound Mr. Arizona. Apparently that fling hadn’t lasted, but good old “Mom” had enjoyed her freedom too much to get around to coming back home.

Catie pulled her pocketknife out and tossed it on her chest of drawers. She shimmied out of her jeans, her thoughts turning to the only person who’d even been close to being like a mom to her. Mrs. Karchner, who’d given Catie that pocketknife, used to own the ranch down the road from the Wilds. Mrs. Karchner had been the one stable person in Catie’s wild youth. But the woman passed away a few years ago, breaking Catie’s heart.

She sighed as she yanked her T-shirt over her head and tossed it onto the bed. She sure missed that woman.

After growing up in a broken family and witnessing too many failed marriages, Catie didn’t believe in commitment. But she sure as hell believed in having as much fun as possible with the opposite sex.

Maybe she was too much like her mother.

Forcing the thoughts from her mind, Catie removed her bra and thong underwear and then pulled on a tiny jean skirt and a button-up blouse. She loved the feeling of being naked beneath her clothes, and it would make tonight’s experience all the more fun. The jean material of her skirt felt rough and sexy against her bare skin and caused her pussy to throb and ache.

And since meeting the sexy new county sheriff yesterday, she’d been horny as all get out. Too bad she’d been pissed about the stolen cattle when she met that sex god of a cowboy. Or she’d have been tempted to jump the man. Well, for now she was putting aside any thought of rustling, money woes, and lack of a man with a good cock. She had a show to catch.

Once she had put on her leather moccasins, Catie slipped into the moonlit night that smelled crisp and clean from the rains of the past couple of days. Her nipples puckered and her heart beat a little faster as she picked her way through the tumbleweeds and mesquite bushes, out toward the cabin at the back of the ranch. Her moccasins made no sound as she stole along the slightly muddy path as quickly as she could.

She wanted to get there in time to watch
everything
.

And from the conversation she’d overheard this morning between Brad Taylor and the Wilson twins, there was going to be plenty to watch.

Catie had never spied on people having sex before, and she couldn’t believe how turned-on she was just thinking about watching the three of them go at it. Well, there was that time she’d caught Dean MacLeod masturbating, and that had been erotic to watch from her hiding place in Dean’s kitchen—and it had certainly whet her appetite for enjoying another bout of voyeurism.

Tumbleweeds scraped Catie’s bare legs and an Arizona October breeze found its way underneath her mini skirt, straight to her bare pussy. It felt cool and erotic, and she was already incredibly wet. The sense of danger, coupled with the possibility of getting caught spying on one of the ranch hands in ménage à trois, heightened her excitement.

Catie had loved to play in the old cabin when she was a kid, and had kept the place in decent shape over the years as a kind of getaway when she wanted some time alone. When Brad had asked to use the cabin, she’d thought nothing of it—until she’d overheard his conversation with Sabrina and Sasha Wilson.

Even as Catie skirted the cabin to the back, she saw Brad’s truck parked outside and heard feminine laughter from within. Damn, but she hoped she hadn’t missed any of the good stuff.

She eased up to the back wall of the cabin, to a knothole that was just low enough that she had to bend over. Her skirt hiked up over her ass cheeks, and she felt the breeze on her pussy again as she peeked through the hole.

And got an eyeful.

* * * * *

Voices floated through the night air and Spirit’s ears pricked toward the sound. Jarrod Savage brought the mare to a halt, and after listening for a moment, he swung down and let the reins drop to the ground. The mare was well-trained and intelligent, and wouldn’t move unless Jarrod whistled to her.

Once he checked his utility belt and his firearm, Jarrod holstered the gun and quietly headed toward the sounds that were coming from a small cabin he could just make out in the moonlight.

For the past few weeks, despite what one Miss Catie Wilds might think, he’d been investigating a rash of cattle rustling that had escalated in this part of the state. As the new county sheriff, Jarrod’s reputation was riding on getting this case solved, and getting it solved
now.

He eased through the dry grass and tumbleweeds, his hand resting on his weapon’s grip, his senses on high alert, on the lookout for the slightest indication of danger.

The flash of white caught Jarrod’s eye and he froze. His eyes narrowed as he watched the small figure stealing through the night, to the back of the cabin. When the figure moved up to the wall, light from inside the cabin shone on her face.

A woman. A damn beautiful…and a familiar woman at that.

Jarrod grinned as he realized it was that little spitfire of a rancher who’d come storming into his office yesterday. Catie Wilds had more than peaked his interest. His cock had been on full-throb every time he’d thought about her since.

And as she bent over to peek into a hole in the wall of the cabin, Catie’s short blonde hair swung forward. Her next-to-nothing-skirt hiked up—the moonlight illuminating her completely naked ass and pussy.

Despite years of law enforcement training and plenty of practice in keeping emotionally and physically detached from his work, Jarrod couldn’t help but feel a stirring in his cock. He swallowed, hard, as Catie licked her lips and began fondling her breasts while she looked through the hole, into the cabin.

Feminine laughter came from inside the cabin, and then a woman’s voice said, “Lick my pussy, Brad.”

Jarrod’s mouth turned up into a grin. The perky little blonde was a dang Peeping Tom. Or rather a Peeping Tomasina.

His cock grew even harder as he watched her move one hand beneath her skirt while her other hand continued to pluck one nipple through her blouse.

Damn, but he had to get his mind back on his job and off the hot woman in front of him. The woman who looked like she was dying to get fucked.