Taming Jenna [Sequel to Saving Grace] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Stacey Espino

  He’d seen a softer side to her tonight—the other night, too. Should he confront her with what he knew? Would she even want him? Maybe the kindest thing he could do was forget about her and carry on with his job at the ranch. He knew damned well he wasn’t ready to settle down. Jenna didn’t deserve to be treated as disposable. Besides, she’d have his balls if he broke her heart. He smiled. As much as he should stay away, his feet led him to the barn and the ladder leading to her apartment. He truly was a fool.

  Trevor knocked at the door, ready for the tongue-lashing of a lifetime. He held his breath when the door opened, cutting the darkness on the small landing. She’d been crying. Only a few minutes alone and she’d been crying, her eyes red-rimmed and moist. What had he said wrong?

  “You okay, Jenna?”

  “Of course I’m okay,” she snapped. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

  “You’ve been crying.”

  She shook her head, averting her gaze to the floor. The lighting coming from within was soft, probably from a lone table lamp. “I’m just overly tired.”

  Without asking permission, he pressed into her apartment, forcing her backwards, and closed the door with his boot. She sniffled and continued to move away from him until her back hit the wall. He filled her personal space, prepared for a fight because he’d seen this before. She was more like a man than she realized, bottling up her feelings until ready to explode. He’d let her use him to vent her emotion, even if he turned black and blue. The tension was thick, and he could feel her nerves like tight bowstrings. Any minute she’d snap, and that’s exactly what she needed to do.

  “Trevor…”

  “There’s my name again. It sounds sweet on your lips, darlin’.”

  She whispered, her words holding little conviction. “I told you never to darlin’ me.”

  “You looked beautiful tonight. The prettiest girl in the bunch.” He dared to tilt her chin up. Her blue eyes were deep pools to get lost in. Her hostility fizzled away when he expected it to fire hot.

  “I’m not a girl,” she insisted. “I’m like you, like any other ranch hand.”

  “Wrong.” He pressed in closer until only inches separated them. She’d changed clothes fast, already out of the blue satin and wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a loose T-shirt. Her long, blonde hair was yet to be tied back, flowing softly over her shoulders. “You’re very much a woman, Jenna.” He was careful, speaking each word slowly and gently. She needed to understand the truth behind his words. Whether she played a man’s role or not, she was still a woman, and a stunning one at that.

  Something would happen soon. The Jenna he knew well would have socked him in the gut by now and never have let him get so close to her. Her rifles were only a dash away, and she knew how to use them. She allowed herself to be cornered.

  Her chest rose and fell in deep, rapid waves. She swallowed hard, forced to look him in the eye when he held her attention. “What do you want from me?”

  “Everything.”

  She shook her head in rapid denial. “Damn it, Trevor! You know me. You can’t come in here and expect me to lie down and spread my legs just because you have a hard-on.”

  “But you will.”

  “Fuck you, foreman.” She shoved him, but his body was like a wall to a slight thing like her. “I like women, get it? Men repulse me, and it’s no wonder why.”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, just enough to shut her up, then backed off. With her jaw slack, she just stood staring at him. When she did nothing to push him away, he returned to her lips, slow enough that she could refuse him if she chose to. He kissed her softly, tasting her lips and enjoying the softness.

  “Still hate me?” he said against her lips.

  “More.” Her lips moved against his now, kissing back with caution. When her sweet little tongue licked along the seam of his lips, he was forced to pull back and take a breath. His cock burned in his pants, never so eager to fuck a woman before.

  “You’re holding back,” he said.

  “So are you, if all your stories are true.”

  “Oh, they’re true.” He brushed her hair from her shoulder, smoothing it down her back. She flinched and tensed, uncomfortable with the intimate contact. God, how long had she gone without a man’s touch? “What about you? That was a mighty fine kiss from a woman that claims to have sworn off men.”

  “It’s just a kiss.”

  He ran his finger along the neckline of her shirt, tempted to go for the gold and manhandle her perfect, full breasts. Breathe, Trevor. He trailed his fingertips down the length of her arms until he reached her hands. She attempted to tug her hands free of his, but he held fast. “I’ve been fantasizing about this for years, you know.”

  “Figures. No matter how hard I try, you still see me as a piece of ass.”

  “I’m a man, Jenna. I’d be a fool not to appreciate you for what you are.” He lowered his head, desperate to nuzzle her neck, to become lost in her scent. “You do wicked things to my body.”

  She tilted her head to the side, allowing him to suck her pulse point and nip at her ear. A sigh trembled from her lips, but she was quick to stifle it. “Coming from you, that’s not a compliment. A change in wind can turn you on, cowboy.”

  “Nothing short of a beautiful woman can do this to me.” He pressed her hand to his erection, now harder than the wall he pressed her against.

  “Shit, that’s hard.” They both laughed. They’d been working together too long to play games with each other. She knew him inside and out, knew about his sexual forays, and didn’t put up with his bullshit. The fact that they shared this intimacy already boggled his mind. How could he ever use her and walk away? This was Jenna—the tough chick that managed to keep dozens of cowboys in line, the girl Wagner considered a daughter and Trevor’s secret wet dream for the past six years.

  Chapter Six

  Jenna was lost, lost, lost. What had she done? Trevor, the ranch’s biggest playboy, was in her apartment, kissing her, touching her. Her entire lesbian charade since arriving on the Wagner ranch was to keep sharks like him away from her. Cowboys were too hard-core and would only hurt her when she needed to heal. If she ever healed at all.

  It would be too easy to toss him out with a hard kick to the ass, so why hadn’t she? The wedding certainly pulled down her carefully guarded barriers, but it was more than that. She harbored a secret crush for the foreman. He was sexier than sin and a hard worker. Jenna worked with the men and could appreciate a real man, a skilled cowboy that wasn’t afraid of hard work or getting hurt. The image of some soft-skinned rich boy repulsed her. Trevor was everything she dreamt a man should be and more. But men took without giving back. How many stories did she have to hear before she realized he’d only use her like all the others?

  When the laughter died away and she pulled her hand back, his eyes darkened, and a new intensity pulled her in like a calf being roped. “Fuck, Jenna, I need you. Don’t stop touching me.”

  His cock was hard and thick, even through his suit pants. Her curiosity soared, but her protective instincts told her to back off. “I can’t.”

  “Let me touch you then.” The image of Trevor’s rough hands all over her bare skin made her nipples tighten into bundles of nerves. Her pussy clenched, and she gasped from the need that suddenly took over. She didn’t stop him when he snagged the edge of her T-shirt or when he pulled it off over her head.

  The chill in the room became noticeable once she stood topless, in just the tight sports bra she used to rein in her unruly breasts. “Fuck. Me. I knew you’d look good, but not this fucking good.” He groaned and palmed her breasts through the white cotton material. Her pussy pulsed as he kneaded her sensitive flesh.

  “They’re too big.” It was a fact. For being barely five feet with a petite figure, her DDs were out of place and a constant torment.

  “You’re perfect. So soft and sweet and perfect.” He bent down, peeled the cup over one breast down, covering
her areola with his hot, wet mouth. Jenna cried out, not ready for such an explosion of sensation. He buried his face in her soft mound while teasing her nipple.

  “Trevor!”

  “Mmm, say my name, baby.” She did, over and over, as he assaulted her body with the skill of an expert lover. With both bra cups now peeled down, her breasts were thrust up and inward, creating a mountain of cleavage that Trevor appeared to enjoy partaking in. His tongue was cruel and magical. Her entire body lit up with a new heat, a wondrous warmth filled her veins and stole her inhibitions.

  As he continued to suckle her, he tugged down her pants, leaving her completely naked. She felt so exposed, but it was titillating. Then she thought better. “Mansfield, I hope you plan to get naked yourself.”

  He stood and smirked. “Yes, ma’am.” Trevor undid his shirt buttons one at a time, torturously slow, while maintaining eye contact with her. She could feel a liquid heat seep from her body and trickle down her inner thigh. Her entire body felt like a coiled spring.

  Once unbuttoned, she helped him, pushing the blue material off his very broad shoulders. She’d noticed his muscled frame from all the times he worked shirtless. But she’d never been able to acknowledge her feelings or get an up-close-and-personal inspection. His pecs were firm and defined, a thick cord of muscle running from his neck along his shoulders. He tensed when she ran her palms down his chest to his washboard stomach. Unlike her fair skin, he was hard and golden from working under the sun. So this was how a man was supposed to feel. Jenna savored his firm, muscled flesh under her inspection.

  His shirt fell to the ground, and she wrapped her hands around his belt. Did she have the nerve to strip him completely? “Go on, darlin’. I can’t wait another second.”

  She pulled the belt free of his buckle and unzipped his pants. The heavy weight of the designer slacks slipped down his narrow hips, leaving him in just black boxer briefs. Would she go through with this? Could she?

  Before she could make a move, he reached behind her, cupping her ass and lifting her against him with ease. He carried her to her twin-sized bed, neatly made with a patchwork quilt, and fell over her. His heat, his weight, his flesh against hers made her world spiral out of control. She no longer cared about Trevor’s reputation or hers after tonight. The only thing that mattered was living in this blissful state of complete sexual abandon. Her head cleared of worries, of pain, like a drug had been infused into her blood from his first kiss.

  They kissed now, deeply, passionately. He tasted so alive, all male, and delicious. Would she ever have her fill? Trevor easily removed his boxers without pulling away, and then his thigh parted her legs further. “I can’t wait to get inside you,” he groaned, positioning his cock at her entrance. Already drowning in an overflow of moisture, he coated himself in her juices, sliding back and forth between her folds. The friction drove her mad, made her desperate to be filled to the brink with his thick cock. Her clit pulsed even without direct contact.

  He pressed in an inch, stretching her. “Fuck you’re tight.” She’d only been penetrated once before, and she didn’t want to think about that now. Sex with Trevor would erase those memories, replace them with something that wasn’t violently forced upon her.

  She cringed and tightened around his length as he thrust slowly forward. He leaned back to look her in the eyes as he filled her. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

  Jenna didn’t want pity. She wasn’t afraid of sex—sex couldn’t control her. “Then make me feel good.” She loosened her grip on his dick, willing her muscles to relax and melt into the mattress. As soon as she calmed herself mentally, Trevor worked her body, thrusting in and out of her pussy in long, smooth strokes. The sensations pricked at her nerves, sending a tingling goodness to all her extremities. She wrapped her arms around his warm shoulders and held on, savoring the intimacy, savoring the way sex should be. His body was warm, skin to skin against her own. She felt surrounded, protected, but thought better—sex was a bad thing.

  Despite her attempted control, panic crept into her blood. She wanted this, enjoyed this, but couldn’t control the way her mind reacted.

  “Stop!” she squealed, out of breath.

  “Did I hurt you, darlin’?”

  She exhaled and dropped her head back, staring at the ceiling. No way could she tell Trevor she was scared. Weakness wasn’t tolerated at the Wagner Ranch and certainly not by her. She shook her head.

  “I know just the thing.” He winked, kissed her lips once, and slipped out of her body. She felt empty once his cock was removed, sending her into a violent muddle of emotions. Trevor crawled back down her body and peppered kisses along her inner thigh. The area was so sensitive to his ministrations that she gasped and unconsciously thrust her pelvis up. “That’s a girl. I can’t wait to taste you sweet little cunt.”

  Trevor moved closer and closer to her throbbing clit. When he latched his mouth over her pussy, she called out and tangled her hands in his mop of dirty-blond hair. A new pressure began to rise, spreading heat up from the tips of her toes. She concentrated on the new pleasure coursing its way through her body towards her center. Trevor’s tongue was no less skilled than any other part of him. He nipped and suckled her clit, lapped at her folds, and fucked her with his tongue. She lost all control, all fear, and braced herself for something monumental. Gripping the sheets, it came to a peak. She gasped in short breaths before her cunt exploded in a violent wave of extreme pleasure. Liquid flowed from her pussy, and it pulsed hard and demanding, but there was nothing there to fill it. God, she needed Trevor now.

  “Hurry up and fuck me, cowboy!”

  He complied, rising before falling over her and thrusting deep into her slick pussy. She exhaled in relief as he claimed her, her body still contracting around him as he fucked her good and hard. Once the tremors eased, she felt a new heat building, and she eagerly wanted to feel that burst of pleasure again. Jenna wrapped her legs around his hips, spurring him on. His body broke out in the fine sheen of sweat which she leaned up to lick off his shoulders before sucking the firm flesh on his neck. She had the urge to mark him as hers as a warning for any riffraff to stay away. Hers. Jenna suckled hard enough to leave a healthy mark on his neck and dropped back down to enjoy his sinful assault.

  “Hurry up, sweet thing. I can’t hold on forever.” His breathing hitched, his thrusts coming harder, faster. “Come for me, Jenna.”

  Hearing her name on his lips was all she needed to reach her second peak. Her cunt milked his cock, and it felt immeasurably more satisfying to orgasm around his thick girth. Trevor groaned and sucked air in through his teeth as he pumped his seed into her body until he finally collapsed to his side.

  She stayed on her back, enjoying the after-sex bliss as her breathing regulated. Trevor leaned to his side and ran his fingers along the valley of her breasts. “It was better than I imagined.”

  Now that it was all said and done, the cloud of lust that had blinded her, lifted. She felt an uncomfortable vulnerability slipping in, and she hated it. Was she just one of Trevor’s many fucks, now to be forgotten? He had no idea how monumental the sex act was for her. It was her first consensual experience, and for the first time she could see a future with a man. But she refused to be weak and beg for his love. She’d die single first.

  * * * *

  Trevor couldn’t stop looking at her, touching her. She was like a new toy that he couldn’t get enough of. But for once he wasn’t just interested in her body, but every detail. Trevor wanted to know her story, what made her into the woman she was today. “So where’d you learn to shoot?” asked Trevor. They had pulled the blankets around them, and he savored the feel of Jenna in his arms. If only he’d known her secret sooner, he could have pursued her years ago. He’d have to thank Conner for spilling the news about her sexuality.

  She hesitated, opening her mouth and stopping a few times. “Foster home.”

  “You? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Trevor had been to foster homes.
His youth was one disappointment after another until Mr. Wagner finally took him in and offered him a job. He’d been on the ranch since his teens. There were a lot of assholes in the world, but rather than letting that hate and pain control him, he used it as a catalyst for better things. He tried to stay positive, not by forgetting where he came from, but being thankful for where he was.

  “Since when do I share my personal life with the staff?”

  “I thought I was more than just a coworker.” He ran his fingers up and down her back. Her skin was so fair and soft. The more time he spent with her, the more he saw her as a woman, feminine. Trevor wondered how their relationship would be affected after what they just shared. Would it be awkward working side by side?

  “I’m very private about my life. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Was it bad? The foster home?”

  She shook her head. “No.” After a deep breath, she continued, “The foster home was okay. The husband was a hunter. He’d always wanted a son, his wife a daughter. When they took me in, he treated me like a boy, put me to work, which was fine with me. He taught me how to hunt, how to use all types of firearms. I’m thankful for the years I was there.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  “Once I turned eighteen, the state said I was on my own, so I left and came here.”

  He tilted her face to look at him. “Looks like we both followed the same path to get here. Mr. Wagner must be a godsend.”

  Her smile was gentle and sweet as if reflecting on the man that changed both of their lives.

  Trevor felt a sense of peace. He unlocked a vault into the softer side of Jenna, one he hadn’t been sure she possessed. Without her harsh façade, she was stunning. Light blue eyes and the silkiest blonde hair he’d ever seen on a woman. Her nose was small and slightly turned up like a pixie—adorable. He kissed the tip of it, which earned him a frown. This woman was more starved for affection than Grace had been. He’d have to work extra hard to show he that she deserved good things in her life.