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

by Stacey Espino

  Chapter Seven

  Large billows of dust obscured the distant landscape. The earth trembled as the next batch of cattle was herded into the holding pen for branding. Trevor stood on the bottom rung of the fence and directed the animals to the far end. Conner, Bryce, and three other cowboys raced around on horseback, keeping the animals from returning to the fields. Loud calls and whistles filled his ears. Once the far gate was closed, he hopped down, ready to start his day.

  He was surprised to find Jenna already in the barn, pressing the rump of an agitated calf against the stall wall while administering the Wagner Ranch brand. She was a skilled cowgirl and never asked for help, even when she needed it. Her beautiful hair was once again in a functional ponytail, and her gorgeous curves were camouflaged by thick flannel and blue jeans.

  “Darlin’, I didn’t know you were going to be helping out today.” He swatted the calf away and moved closer to her, hoping for a morning kiss.

  “Since when is it okay to call me darlin’, foreman?” Her expression held no humor. She was back to tough-as-nails Jenna, and he almost forgot about the sweet creature he had spent half the night with.

  He scowled, unsure of her intentions. “You didn’t mind last night.”

  “If you think you’re gonna run around and blacken my name, it’ll be the worst mistake you ever made in your life.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  She scoffed. “I’ve heard your sex stories too many times to count, and I don’t want to be one of them. If you think of me as a notch in your belt, I’ll make sure you won’t make another.”

  He chuckled. “A threat? Problem is I’d welcome your soft little hands on my dick. Even if it hurt.”

  She backed away from him, swallowed hard, but said nothing. The feisty little filly made his cock ramrod hard.

  “You think I’m playing?”

  “Jenna, like you said, you know me. I ain’t afraid of much. You can’t scare me away easily.” He touched his neck, remembering her hickey. “I liked your little gift. If you were so concerned about hiding our relationship, you should have thought twice before planting this one on me.”

  She steamed and stomped. “So help me, foreman…” Her little fists balled at her sides. “It was all a mistake. One I won’t make again.”

  The woman didn’t know who she was dealing with. He was a cowboy, used to working a man’s day. He got what he wanted, when he wanted it, and every minute he wanted Jenna more.

  Trevor leaned in once she was trapped against the wooden stall boards. “Want me to suck those beautiful tits again? I’ll do it right now if you ask nicely.” Damn, the woman smelled sweet.

  He should have expected the blow. Her balled fist planted deep in his gut, stealing his breath. She reared out of the stall and grabbed the red-hot brand from the hearth. Her smile was evil and sexier than hell itself. She walked in measured steps toward him, her blue eyes narrowed.

  “If you liked my mark so much, how’d you like another? Cowboys don’t feel pain, right?” She was just crazy enough to brand him. Lucifer’s daughter had nothing on Jenna. He held up his arms and retreated.

  “You piss her off already?” asked Conner as he strode into the barn with his horse by his side. “Go on, Jenna…I’m sure he deserves it.”

  She dropped the brand in a bucket of water with a sizzle and a release of steam. One more cold stare in his direction and she left the barn, shoulder-butting Conner on her way out even though he was twice her size. What the hell was that about? Did she regret what they shared? He knew he didn’t. In fact, he couldn’t stop envisioning their next encounter.

  “What’s up her ass?”

  Trevor shook his head. “Nothin’.”

  “You didn’t tell her we knew the truth, did you?”

  He wet his lips, not one to lie. If he could, he’d shout from the roof for everyone to hear that he’d gotten a taste of Jenna. Nobody would even believe him it was so farfetched. But, like she said, she wasn’t one of his buckle bunnies just curious about fucking a cowboy. She was much more—what she gave him was rare, special, not something he planned to handle carelessly. He figured they could still be friends, or friends with benefits. Trevor still got along great with Grace even though she was with Scott. Sex didn’t have to change everything, but Jenna seemed hell-bent on hating him now. It’s not like he used her. She was more than willing. He could still remember the sounds she made as he brought her to orgasm again and again.

  “Trevor!”

  “Huh?” He couldn’t even think straight. Why couldn’t he get Jenna off his mind? He’d get himself killed if he didn’t get focused soon. His job was dangerous, and he needed a level head and fast reflexes. “You say somethin’?”

  “You did, didn’t you? You told her!” Conner dragged a hand through his dark hair and exhaled in irritation. “I had a plan, and you fucking blew it for me.”

  “I didn’t say anything, but if your plan was to get her to play your twisted games, think again. She’s not the type of woman to submit. Trust me.”

  He grunted, exuding confidence. “Maybe not to you, but I can handle her and was looking forward to the challenge.” Conner walked his horse to a stall and settled it in.

  * * * *

  Jenna’s heart pounded so hard behind her ribs she swore she’d be able to hear it if it weren’t for the deafening noise of the cattle clamoring for space in the pen and the rowdy cowboys around her. In the light of day she was certain Trevor would try and play off what happened between them. He rarely spent more than a week with one woman. She earned her tough reputation after years of putting roughneck cowboys in their place, and she wasn’t about to lose it. Jenna refused to be the loose woman spoken about around the bonfires. If she could turn back time and never have opened the door for Trevor, she would, even if it was one of the best nights of her life.

  Then why did her body heat when Trevor cornered her in the barn? Why did his voice, his body, his presence send a chill up her spine? She’d never been a girly-girl, and the thought of appearing weak in front of the crew she worked with put her in a near panic. If she let down one barrier to let Trevor in, they’d all come crashing down soon enough, and she had shit that needed to stay hidden.

  It was better if they just went back to normal and forgot what happened. That way nobody would be hurt or inconvenienced. She certainly had no plans on being his fuck buddy. What they shared had been both difficult and beautiful for her. She never knew if she’d be able to handle being intimate with a man, and he proved that it was possible.

  Jenna decided her next course of action was looking into getting more hired hands for the ranch. Focusing on business would help. She planned to ride over to the Johnston farm and ask the guys there if they knew anyone that was looking for work. If not, word spread fast.

  She untied her horse from the fence post around back, mounted, and took off without looking back. The early morning sun lightly warmed her face, and the breeze was perfect, not too hot yet. She loved riding free, not a care in the world. The softly rolling open fields were a mix of golds and greens. The sight soothed her soul and calmed her anxiety.

  Jenna wondered how Grace was fairing on her honeymoon, and smiled. She also wondered how Mr. Wagner would feel now that Grace and Scott would be out of his house, starting their own lives. He didn’t deserve to be lonely like her. Sometimes she believed he was the only reason she could get through a day. Just a few words from him in his deep, gravelly voice, a touch or a smile, were enough to make her world brighter.

  Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of movement, and when she turned, Conner was riding horseback beside her.

  “Where you going?” she shouted over the wind and the pounding of hooves.

  “I want to talk to you.” Conner wasn’t a talker. She knew all the cowboys on the ranch well. He was the most difficult to read. All she knew was that he was a loner, living alone in a small cottage out back instead of in the trailers with the other ranch hands. He was tal
ler and more built than most, and always had hard-set features as if pissed off with the world. She could respect a man’s man. He got the job done without shooting the shit and wasting time.

  As he rode alongside her in just a fitted white T-shirt and blue jeans, despite the early morning chill, she could see the edge of his black tribal tattoo peeking out from his sleeve. She’d seen him topless on a few rare occasions. He had a black patterned tattoo on each upper arm and an American flag over his heart. His nipples were pierced, which got him teased by the other cowboys at first. Until they learned that Conner had the muscle to back up his attitude. Now all the other ranch hands steered clear.

  She had no clue why he’d need to speak to her. Trevor was the go-to guy, being the foreman.

  Jenna slowed her horse when they reached a small patch of forest. “What is it, cowboy?”

  He dismounted, walking around the front of her horse with his spurs clattering with each step. Conner leaned against a mature oak tree, his arms crossed over his chest.

  She slipped off her horse and took a few steps forward. Of all men, he should know not to mess with her. When he first arrived at the ranch and hit on her, she shot a hole in the barn wall inches from his head. He minded his own business after that. Maybe he needed another lesson? Her rifle was strapped to the side of her horse, so she didn’t get too close to him, just in case.

  “What were you talking to Wagner about the morning of the wedding? You looked like you were crying when you came out of his office.”

  “You came all the way out here to talk to me for that? I have business matters to attend to.”

  “So you were crying?”

  She ground her teeth. What point was he trying to make? “No, I don’t cry. Ever. Happy now?”

  “You’re a woman. There’s nothing wrong with showing emotion.”

  “I’m not like other women.”

  He dropped his bent-up leg and stepped toward her, each step ringing with that familiar metallic chime. She instinctively moved back, her heart beginning to race. She took a quick glance to her left to eye her rifle.

  “You gonna shoot me?” He kept coming until she was past her horse and out of reach of her weapon. “I have a better idea.”

  She narrowed her gaze and gave him her most heated death stare. He only smirked, a devilish smirk, but one nonetheless. “If you lay one finger on me, I guarantee you’ll go home with scrambled eggs.”

  “I’m onto you.” Her back hit another tree, and she felted trapped like a rat. Somehow she knew the jig was up. He’d been outside the door to Wagner’s office the morning of the wedding. Did he hear something that wasn’t for his ears? “I know your secrets.”

  She tried to laugh it off. “You’re nuts. What secrets?” Jenna never realized just how tall the man was. His shadow swallowed her whole. He was raw, rugged, and pure masculine strength—everything she respected in a man. But if he knew the truth, she also feared him.

  “You want me to say it?”

  “Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong.”

  He shook his head, so slowly. His dark goatee and obsidian eyes gave him a sinister edge. Why was her pussy pulsing again? Why did her body associate fear with sex? She was more fucked up than she first believed.

  Conner outstretched an arm and planted it against the tree, looming close enough that she could feel his warm breath. “We’re more alike than you think.”

  “Oh?”

  “We both have a past we’d rather forget.” He took a breath, suddenly losing that bravado in his eyes. “Seems this town has its share of drunken fathers.”

  Jenna swallowed hard. She didn’t like to think about her father, but he wasn’t the one who kept starring in her nightmares. She worked hard to forget the rapist who lived the next ranch over. She learned how to protect herself, how to block out emotion—all because of what he did to her. “He wasn’t a drunk.” Perhaps knowing what he did to her was alcohol induced would give him an excuse, but he’d been sober as a priest on Sunday.

  “Just stop. I heard everything you talked to Wagner about. Your father messed you up. I can understand that.” He pulled back, looking down on her with a blank expression. “Hiding from the truth, pretending to be someone you’re not, isn’t going to change the past.”

  She thought for a moment. The jig was up, and she felt the fabric of her world unraveling. She’d have to go along with his theory of a drunken father damaging her. It was better than the truth. Her defenses rose in response. “You’re a hypocrite then. Aren’t you the one hiding from your past? You block everyone out and seclude yourself in that shack out back. I’ve never seen you in a real relationship. You barely maintain friendships. Is that normal?”

  “It’s the best I can do. You should know how it is. Being strong can protect you from getting hurt. I think we could help each other.”

  Jenna thought about the years since she arrived on the Wagner ranch. Being strong kept her together, but it didn’t help her heal, didn’t make her happy. “I don’t need your help.”

  “Sometimes letting go of control, letting go of those barriers, can be liberating. I can show you how—”

  “Stop!” Was he going to suggest what she thought he was? “You actually think I’ll play your games, Conner? Don’t you know me at all? If anyone’s going to play the dominant, it’s me. If you’re looking for a beating, come find me. Otherwise, get out of my way.” Heat crept out of her collar. She ducked under Conner’s arm and stormed away, no fear lingering. “No man will ever hold power over me!” Not again.

  She took short work of mounting her horse and jammed her heels to its side for a hasty retreat. It was already beginning—what she feared when arriving on the Wagner Ranch. Her secret was spreading, and the men were already after her. Conner actually expected she’d be into his BDSM shit? She clenched her teeth, wishing she had given him another warning shot for such an indecent proposal. How would she remain invisible if the ranch hands saw her as a potential bedmate? The thought of all those men, her coworkers, looking at her with that familiar lust in their eyes made her cringe. She’d have to leave, but go where? This was her home. She loved Mr. Wagner and shouldn’t have to change her life.

  Chapter Eight

  “Fuck,” Conner muttered.

  He must be out of his mind to think he could have a piece of Jenna. Lesbian or not, she was untouchable. He planned to persuade her right into his bed, never thinking about rejection. When he did decide to play with a woman, they were usually agreeable. Jenna really was a lot like him, both with damaged childhoods thanks to bastard fathers. She could hide from the truth, like he did, but it didn’t change the facts.

  Conner knew his days of sanity were numbered. Trying to forget the daily beatings when his father would come home stinkin’ drunk from the bars was impossible. The memories invaded even his dreams each night. Worse than his beatings was the fact that the motherfucker gave the same treatment to his mother. Watching the one woman he loved abused while he was too small and weak to defend her would haunt him until the day he died.

  As soon as he became a man, capable of defending himself, he stood up for himself. He remembered that day, the day he confronted that drunkard. Conner had grown taller than his father, and had youth and strength on his side. He didn’t beat the man, even though tempted, but stilled his fist. The fear dancing in the older man’s eyes was payment enough. He warned him that day that if he ever laid a finger on his mother again, he’d kill him. He meant it. Conner left home and never looked back. He took general labor positions at various farms until settling at the Wagner Ranch.

  He never touched alcohol. The smell triggered unwanted memories, and he refused to become the spitting image of his father. Still, real relationships weren’t possible for him. To shut down the memories, it was necessary to close out all emotion. A relationship would require love, something he wasn’t capable of giving. What about a family? What kind of father would he make? Would history repeat itself? It was a chance he wa
sn’t willing to make.

  One thing Conner learned early on was that he had to be in control during sex. From his first encounters, it was necessary. As the years progressed, things became more extreme, to the point that he couldn’t perform unless he had complete dominance over a woman. Why? Was he becoming his father, eager to abuse a woman in any way possible? No, his brand of dominance was about giving and receiving pleasure through pain and control. He didn’t want the women that shared his bed to suffer. Unlike his father, he didn’t believe in harming a woman.

  Thinking about Jenna tied down, submissive and begging, made his cock harder than any woman was capable of. She was so alive, so strong. Dominating her would be the ultimate challenge. He knew it would be a match made in heaven, too. She played the tough cowgirl to camouflage a damaged interior. He could build her up, teach her that being the submissive could be a positive thing. As her dominant, he’d show her that he’d never hurt her, never abuse her trust. But getting such a headstrong woman to agree to participate seemed an impossible task.

  He and Jenna really were alike, both closed and functional. The other ranch hands laughed and played as hard as they worked. Conner only worked. His free time was spent reflecting in his private place. Feeling sorry for himself. He felt drawn to Jenna. She wasn’t about bullshit and didn’t grate at his nerves like some of the greenhorns could with such little effort. He respected her. The more she pushed him away, the more he had to have her. To own her.

  * * * *

  It had been a long, hard day of working with the cattle. Trevor hadn’t seen Jenna again, not until now. As the sun began to set and he prepared to call it a day, she slowed to a trot as she neared the barn. The remnants of sunlight highlighted her blonde hair, and her blue eyes bore into his once she dismounted. Her face was blank, but not ignoring him had to be a good sign.