Wrap Me, Cowboys

by Alexa B. James

  The problem was, he didn’t feel like an enemy. He felt comfortable and familiar.

  “Thanks,” I said, shoving my hands in the pockets of my parka. “You didn’t have to do all that. I know it’s a little convenient for me to say that now that it’s done, but—”

  “Not a problem,” Cody said. “Need a lift back to the house?”

  “Um, no,” I said. “I should drive the side-by-side.”

  He gave me a doubtful look. “I can drive that if you want to get the Jeep?”

  “Yeah, you probably don’t want to trust me with that,” I said. “I’m kinda prone to accidents. This isn’t the first time I’ve driven something off the road. Last summer, I drove the tractor into a pond.”

  “You don’t know how to drive?” Cody asked, looking as shocked as apparently everyone outside New York was to learn that information.

  “I’m from New York,” I said. “We don’t really drive there. I’m still pretty new at it.”

  “Ah,” he said, nodding. “My dad lives there.”

  “I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m out here. Our parents sent me out here to straighten up.”

  “Our parents?”

  I gulped. It struck me then that he might not know who I was. In fact, he definitely didn’t know who I was. And I didn’t want to give him anything to blackmail my Westling boys. If he knew I was their stepsister, he might blackmail them to get his part of the ranch from them. And I knew the guys would never forgive me if I lost part of their ranch. That would be worse than running off with Cody.

  “Uh…yeah,” I said. “See, my mom wasn’t very happy about my party-girl ways, and your dad mentioned that he had this place, and they thought maybe it would straighten me out to come out here to escape all that.” There. I had told the truth without mentioning that our parents were married. I could be the daughter of anyone his dad knew.

  “Is that right?” he said, studying me in a way that made me squirm. Maybe he already knew more than he was letting on.

  “Yep.”

  We studied each other for a minute. I refused to drop his gaze. I wasn’t ashamed of my love for any of his brothers. Then the corner of Cody’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Then I guess Sawyer’s still Sawyer,” he said. “Lucky guy.”

  With that, he turned and headed for his Jeep. As it crept along the road toward the house, I tried to collect my thoughts. I didn’t think Cody was hitting on me—his comments didn’t carry the weight of extra meaning, and he didn’t give them in a flirty way. But he’d definitely said a few things that told me he was jealous of Sawyer’s relationship with me. It was disconcerting, but I couldn’t deny that it was flattering, too.

  After a minute, I climbed into the side-by-side and started toward the house after him. I would never betray the guys, but I was starting to see what a girl might find appealing about Cody. He had a simple, straightforward manner, and he seemed all kind and decent if you didn’t know he’d screwed over his own brother. Plus, he was almost as easy on the eyes as his brothers.

  Still, I wouldn’t blame Waylon if he was waiting on the front porch with a rifle.

  5

  Holden

  When we got the text, we headed back to the house. But the minute we walked in, I could tell it was empty.

  “Where the fuck is Amber?” Waylon asked, storming into the kitchen.

  “She’s probably out with the horses,” Sawyer said.

  “You don’t think…” I started, but I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want to think about something bad happening to Amber.

  “That she ran off with that son of a bitch?” Waylon asked, taking off his hat and slapping it on his thigh.

  “She didn’t,” Sawyer said. “She doesn’t even know him.”

  “But we know him,” Waylon said, his voice hard.

  That much was true. Cody could turn on the charm as well as Sawyer and make all the promises a woman wanted to hear, too. Sawyer had a way with women, but he was still himself around them. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

  “Not this time,” I said, heading for the door.

  “Now y’all hold up just a minute,” Sawyer said, raising a hand to stop us. “Amber wouldn’t do that.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. He was right. Suddenly, I felt like shit for not trusting her, for letting the past threaten what we had. We couldn’t go on like we had with Maria, never knowing what she was up to or if we could trust her or each other. This was different. No secrets, no lies. Amber knew that. It was hard not to let paranoia get the better of us, though. It took Waylon another minute to stop pacing.

  Finally, he did, though. He shoved his hat on his head and headed for the door. “Let’s go find her,” he said. “If she’s not out there with Cody, and she’s not in the barn, she’s probably in trouble. Knowing her, we’ll find her out there treed by a coyote.”

  When we walked outside, though, she wasn’t in a tree. She was bumping up the drive in the side-by-side, right behind Cody’s Jeep.

  Waylon cursed under his breath as they both pulled up in front of the house.

  Cody climbed out, looking us over warily. It had been four years since I’d seen him, but he looked ten years older. I figured whatever had gone down with Maria must have been hard on him, too.

  “What happened?” Sawyer asked. “You get your Jeep stuck and need a woman to come push you out?”

  “Sexist much?” Amber asked.

  Waylon strode right past Cody, grabbed Amber’s face in his hands, and kissed her real hard right there in the driveway.

  When he let her go, Cody cleared his throat. “Figured she was Sawyer’s gal.”

  “She ain’t yours,” Sawyer said.

  Cody frowned, then nodded. “Guess I deserved that one, too.”

  “Get the fuck off our property,” Waylon said.

  “It ain’t just your property,” Cody said. “You’re a smart man, Waylon. Wouldn’t think you’d have such a hard time remembering that.”

  “You think you’re going to come barging in like this whenever you want?” Waylon asked. “After four years gone?”

  “I figured I’d have a look around at the very least,” Cody said. “Like it or not, this ranch belongs to me, too.”

  “Like hell it does,” Waylon said, taking a threatening step toward him. “You made a choice four years ago.”

  “That choice had nothing to do with this ranch,” Cody said. “And I apologized. All I’m asking is for you to hear me out, to give me a second chance. Doesn’t every man deserve that much?”

  “Not every man,” Waylon said, turning toward the house, his arm tight around Amber’s waist.

  “I’ll hear you out,” I said quietly.

  Waylon stopped, his back still to us.

  “I’m not saying you’ll be forgiven,” I said to Cody. “I’m not saying you’ll get a second chance. But even a guilty man gets to plead his case.”

  “Thank you,” Cody said gruffly.

  “Ah, hell, why not?” Sawyer said. “I’m not much for holding grudges, and this is the time of year for being charitable.”

  We all turned to Waylon, whose shoulders were stiff, his back still turned. “Then do it somewhere else,” he said. “He’s not welcome here.”

  “You won’t hear him out?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “All right,” Sawyer said with a shrug. “What do you say we go have a drink?”

  I didn’t like leaving Waylon, and if Amber hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have gone. I didn’t like to think of him stewing alone, the way he did. But now we had Amber, and I couldn’t think of anyone who could make him feel better than she could. It was something I hadn’t considered her bringing to the table when she’d moved here permanently—some freedom if a couple of us wanted to go out and the other didn’t. This way, we didn’t have to worry about our brother. Amber would take care of him.

  6

  Amber

  Inside, Waylon dropped his arm from around m
e and stomped off to the office, cussing up a storm. I warmed up by the fire and then decided I should do something to make us both feel better. Christmas cookies seemed the obvious answer, so I turned on some carols to cheer me up while I whipped up a batch and slid them in the oven. With the smell of sugar and vanilla in the air, I went to find Waylon.

  He was standing in the office, staring out the window at the driveway.

  “They’ll be fine,” I said, coming up behind him and sliding my arms around him. “Your brothers love you. They’re not going to run off with Cody.”

  “Of course not,” he snapped. His whole body was tense, like a snake about to strike. “They’re not women.”

  “Well, excuse me,” I said, stepping back. “Not all women are Maria, now are they?”

  “That remains to be seen,” he said, glowering at me.

  “You know what, Waylon? You’re a bit of a bastard.”

  He snorted. “A bit?”

  I could see a tiny crack in his armor, and I was going to take full advantage. “A half-ass, right? And no offense, but isn’t it kind of hypocritical for you to worry about me betraying you when you’re the one who went behind my back and told my mother about us last year? And in case you forgot, I have a cheating ex, too, and I’m not constantly worrying I’m going to walk in and find some skank riding your face.”

  “That’s true,” Waylon said. “But I’m also not inviting the skank who rode your boyfriend to come hang out with us.”

  “I didn’t invite Cody,” I said, throwing my hands up. “He showed up.”

  “You certainly seemed eager to welcome him to Coyote Ranch, though, didn’t you?”

  “Do I think he’s a sorry rat-bastard? Sure. But I also think he’s just plain sorry. It’s up to you if you give him a second chance. He didn’t betray me. Although I’d like to kick him in the nuts if he’s the reason you hate women so much.”

  “He’s not,” Waylon growled. “That bastard doesn’t have that kind of power over us.”

  “Then it’s her,” I said, my throat suddenly salty with tears. “I knew you still had feelings for her. That’s why you’re so closed off with me.”

  “I don’t give a damn about her,” Waylon growled, taking a menacing step toward me.

  “That’s what you’re thinking when you criticize me all the time, isn’t it? That you wish I was more like your darling Maria?”

  I didn’t wait for an answer. Not because I was about to cry—okay, so partially because I was about to cry, but mostly because I suddenly smelled something burning. I’d forgotten the stupid cookies.

  I turned on my heel and ran for the kitchen, where I threw open the oven door. A cloud of smoke billowed into my face. Swiping a potholder from the counter, I batted and waved the smoke away, coughing and trying not to breathe it in.

  “Amber,” Waylon said from the door.

  “Do not even talk to me right now,” I said, yanking the tray out and waving it at him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s not a good time.”

  “I’m not comparing you to anyone.”

  “You’re still defending yourself?” I grabbed a charred cookie with the potholder and hurled it at him. It crumbled to the floor halfway to him, landing with a sad little thud.

  “I’m not—” He held up his hands to ward off the next blackened missile.

  I threw another, this one with even more fervor. Waylon ducked, and it sailed over his head and straight into the Christmas tree in the living room. The gentle tinkle of bells sounded as it hit some ornaments on its way down.

  “Would you stop that?” Waylon thundered. He strode across the room toward me, but I kept hurling burnt chunks of cookie. One bounced off his chest, but he ignored it, ripped the cookie sheet out of my hand and threw it on the stovetop behind me.

  He grabbed me and kissed me hard, knocking the breath out of me as he shoved me back against the counter. Yanking open the button to my jeans, he started to push them down over my hips. “I’m going to fuck you so hard the neighbors hear you screaming,” he growled, wrenching my jeans down around my thighs.

  “No, wait,” I said, pushing back on his chest.

  “What?” he demanded, his breath ragged, his eyes blazing with lust.

  “Take me upstairs.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked you to.”

  “Have it your way,” he said, and he bent and scooped me up in a fireman’s carry. Except there was no fire, so I didn’t have to worry about burning to death. But I pretended, since Waylon was whisking me away from a smoke-filled kitchen.

  After my initial squeal of surprise, I pushed myself upright. “Come on, carry me straight,” I said, batting at his broad shoulders.

  With a growl, Waylon complied, letting me slide all the way down his body until I was standing on my feet. And let me just say, it wasn’t easy not to rip his pants down and tell him to ravish me right there on the stairs. Instead, I pulled up my pants.

  “You’re wasting your time with that,” Waylon said, scooping me into his arms this time. He wasted no time in getting to the bedroom, where he tossed me on the bed. Looming over me, he whipped open his belt buckle and drew out that huge cock. My thighs clenched in excitement, but Waylon wasn’t having any of that. He yanked my jeans back down and rolled me over, dragging me to the edge of the bed.

  “Wait,” I said, squirming away. I sat up and pulled off my jeans, tossing them on the floor. Then I rolled away on the bed and patted the spot beside me, smiling up at him. “Come lay down with me.”

  With a growl of frustration, Waylon joined me.

  “Kiss me first,” I said. “You can’t just expect me to be ready all the time. You gotta warm me up.”

  I thought he’d roar in frustration, but he laid down beside me. In seconds, he’d rolled me over though, his mouth crashing down on mine.

  “Slow down,” I said, giving him my sweetest smile. “Make love to me, Waylon.”

  “I’m trying,” he growled, pulling my legs open.

  I pushed his hand away again, rolling onto my side and scooting closer. “Hold me a minute,” I said, hooking my leg over his.

  His hot cock throbbed against my belly, and I arched against it. My pussy ached for him to fill it, but I held back. Waylon kissed me, his tongue plunging into my mouth. His hands squeezed my ass, rocking me against him. The base of his cock pressed against my clit, and I moaned into his kiss.

  “Damn it, I can’t wait any longer,” he said, wrenching my knee up so my leg was hooked around his hip.

  “Just a little longer,” I said, though I didn’t think I could last another minute. I pushed myself up, climbing astride his narrow hips. I ran my nails down his sculpted chest and chiseled abs before grabbing the head of his huge, glorious cock. I slid my thumb over the tip, shuddering with longing when a drop of wetness met my touch. I slicked my thumb across his soft skin, and Waylon groaned, lifting his hips and sliding his hands up my thighs, spreading my lips open with his thumbs.

  “You’re killing me,” he groaned, grinding his rigid length against my pussy.

  “You don’t like it?” I asked, widening my eyes innocently. Instead of putting him inside me, I settled on top of his cock so it was between my folds. Sliding up and down his shaft, I let him feel exactly how wet I was.

  He slid his hands around my thigh and pulled me forward, plunging a finger deep into me. I gasped, arching my back as he spread my ass cheeks and opened me wider, working two fingers into my pussy. “God, Amber, your cunt is tight,” he rasped, thrusting his fingers faster while his thumb pressed against my other hole. “Let me feel it stretched around my cock.”

  I wanted to hold out longer, but I couldn’t resist another second. “Okay,” I gasped, ready for more than his fingers inside me.

  He flipped me onto my stomach, but I rolled onto my back and opened my arms to him. “Come down here,” I said.

  With a growl, he sank down from his knees, positioning himself to drive into me.

>   “Nice and slow,” I said.

  Biting his lip, Waylon pushed the head of his cock against my opening, slicking it through my juices until it was soaked. Then he pressed harder and harder until his cock sunk into me. I gasped and lifted my hips, my nails digging into his thighs.

  “Keep going slow,” I panted.

  “Did anyone ever tell you you’re bossy as hell?”

  “I never get to be the boss,” I said. “I wanted to see what it’s like.”

  “If you want to be the boss, fuck Holden,” he said. “I’m the boss when I’m inside you.” He pushed deeper with each pass, but he went slow, like I’d asked. The heat and size of him inside me had me ready to explode within minutes.

  “I think I’m okay with that,” I said, letting go at last. “I’ll just lay back and enjoy the ride.”

  “Hold on tight.” Waylon gripped the headboard and drove into me so hard I slid up the bed, and my head banged against the wood.

  With a cry, I reached up to push myself down again, but Waylon only drove harder the next time, his cock slamming so deep into me that I cried out. My palms braced against the headboard, I got even more leverage as Waylon pounded into me, thrusting his huge cock into my tightness over and over, until I could hardly breathe.

  “Look at me,” I panted.

  “What?”

  “Look at me,” I said.

  Waylon bit down on his lip again, gripping the headboard and bracing his knees on the bed, ramming into the very depths of me. A charge went through me like nothing I’d ever felt before when his eyes locked on mine. He drove into me again, and again, and again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, hanging on while he ripped into me with that massive cock, driving my head against the headboard. I didn’t care anymore. I could feel the connection of not just our bodies but our eyes, our souls.

  “I’m gonna come,” I blurted out.

  “You’d fucking better,” he said. With a giant thrust, he drove me against the headboard, his cock throbbing painfully huge inside me. A rush of warmth filled me, and I cried out, never letting my gaze leave his. My walls clenched around him, gripping him in my depth while waves of ecstasy rolled through my body. Waylon let out a guttural cry, his cock throbbing as it spurted into my pussy again and again.