by BJ Wane
“I’m Dr. Kingston. You called?” Roz didn’t try to disguise her breathless response to his nearness, finding him as drool-worthy irresistible up close as from afar.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “This way.” Pivoting, he ignored her hand and stomped down the aisle bisecting the rows of neat stalls.
Nonplussed, Roz followed. “While I’m not opposed to exploring that idea, don’t you think we should at least know each other’s names and tend to your horse first?” she quipped from behind his broad, rigid back.
He didn’t reply, just kept going with another mutter and shake of his head. As they passed a stall housing a small donkey, Roz gave the animal a quick nose rub, calling out to her reluctant client, “Did you know the placement of a donkey’s eyes enables them to see all four of their legs at all times?”
He spun around at the next stall, thrusting an arm toward the pregnant mare inside. “Do you think you can give her your attention?”
“I know I can,” she replied, entering the stall. “Do you think you can assist without the attitude? Horses can sense their masters’ moods, you know.” After setting her bag down, she placed a soothing hand on the mare’s distended belly, not liking the looks of her too-thin frame and the agitation pouring off her.
“Where’s Doc Winthrop?”
“Home, hopefully getting a good night’s sleep. I’m his new vet, and perfectly capable of tending your horse.” Running her hands over the mare’s heavy pregnancy, she suspected a breech birth. “Not good,” she said, coming around to her hind end.
“What’s wrong?”
Sharp concern colored his tone, and she gave him points for caring for the animal, which made her wonder how the mare ended up in such poor condition. From the looks of the stall, he’d treated her with ample food, vitamins, and fresh water.
“I think she’s breech. I’ll know for sure once I examine her. Is she a kicker?”
“All horses are if scared, angry, or in pain.” Moving to the mare’s head, he took hold of the bridle and spoke in soft undertones while rubbing her quivering neck. “Go ahead.”
Adding more points for his way with the mare, Roz tossed her jacket off and pulled on elbow-length gloves. A quick, internal exam confirmed her diagnosis. “Yep, breech. We need to keep her moving until she’s ready to push, then I can assist. Don’t let her lie down. I’m Roz.” Looking around the horse’s rump, she cocked her head and smiled. “And you are?”
He tilted his head far enough for her to fall into the startling brightness of his blue-green eyes, her heart going pitter-patter at the intensity of his glittering gaze. Not her pussy, though. Oh, no. Those muscles skipped the soft-pulse stage, jumping right into responding with hot, strong pulsations that shook her enough to shore up her determination to get this man interested in fulfilling her fantasy wish list.
“Drake McCullough. This is Mona, a recent rescue, along with Gus, the donkey you stopped to pet.”
Her lips quirked at the accusation in his tone, as if that one-second delay caused irreparable harm to the horse. “Mmmm, great peripheral vision to go with the killer bod and attitude. We’re definitely going to have to do something about this mutual attraction.”
One black brow winged up as he scowled. “Are you always like this, or are you nervous about handling my emergency? I won’t risk my horse on someone who is incompetent.”
That straightened Roz’s backbone. She yanked off the gloves and stomped right up to him, mimicked his stance, her hands on her hips, and went to her toes to get in his face. “You can give me attitude all you want, Mr. McCullough, but don’t ever imply I don’t take this job, and the animals entrusted to my care, seriously.” Reaching for the dangling lead, she turned Mona, the move forcing him to let go of her bridle.
“I apologize… What the hell?” he growled, circling her wrist holding the lead then lifting her arm, the mishappened alignment between wrist and elbow obvious.
Roz jerked out of his light clasp, pity or curiosity the last things she wanted from him. “An accident, and unless you want me to question you about your scar, let it go at that. I’ll take first shift walking Mona.”
CHAPTER TWO
Of all the fucking luck.
What were the odds the woman from the club Drake recognized as his mate would be the new vet everyone had been looking forward to welcoming? Apparently, not in his favor.
Drake tempered his rage at seeing the signs of a healed spiral fracture marring Roz’s delicate arm as he stepped out of the stall and watched her walk Mona in circles. Fine white surgical lines ran along the sides of her slightly crooked ulna from an injury most often caused by a sharp twist. Damn it, he didn’t want to get involved with her, didn’t want to feel this possessive anger on her behalf, and sure as hell didn’t want to succumb to the lust his wolf kept demanding they assuage. Fighting the war overseas wasn’t as difficult as the battle he waged between walking away and giving in to the urge to demand answers about who had hurt her.
She turned, and the light caught the bottled red streak added to her shaggy-cut mahogany hair, something he’d expect to see a teenager sporting. With her quirky, brazen attitude, she wasn’t even his type. He much preferred quiet, submissive women when he took the time and effort to see to the physical demands of any normal, thirty-five-year-old guy.
Even after witnessing his brothers with their mates, he’d never imagined the depth of unaccustomed need her nearness would stir inside him, a need he couldn’t give in to, under any circumstances. The image of two mangled bodies still haunted him, a vivid reminder of what could happen if driven beyond his ability to control himself, or his wolf.
Turning away from the compassion shining in Roz’s sky-blue eyes and the enticing way her jeans hugged her soft, round ass, he ran a brush over Gus, giving him the attention he craved until he could settle the conflicting emotions and rioting sensations Roz’s appearance caused. He returned to Mona’s stall ten minutes later to see her swiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of one hand, the motion leaving her wisp of bangs in damp disarray.
“I’ll get you a bottle of water and take over.”
He could feel her eyes on him as he strode to the tack room where he kept a small refrigerator. Returning to the stall, he was careful not to let their fingers touch as he handed her the water. “I’ll take over. Sit down.” He hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt, but it was either that or cave to the desire to haul her against him and wipe away that smug smile with the hard pressure of his mouth.
She took the bottle and touched her forehead with the capped top in a mocking salute. “Yes, sir.” After handing him the lead, she turned, sank down onto a hay bale, and twisted off the cap. “Thank you. Have you owned her long?”
“No,” he replied, resuming the walking. Poor Mona already looked exhausted, and they’d just gotten started. “A few weeks. Not enough time to get the needed weight on her for an early, difficult birth. What are her chances?” His throat closed at the thought of losing her.
“I’ll fight for her as long as she’s willing.”
“Yeah, so will I.”
The grueling work to save both the mare and foal lasted two hours, and, by the time Roz pulled the little guy, back hooves first, from Mona’s exhausted body, Drake was as wrung out as her. Admiration for her tireless efforts and skills filled him as he took in her bloody shirt, gloved arms, and disheveled appearance.
“Whew! We’re a mess, but we did it.” Roz beamed at him, pushing to her feet from checking out the small colt. “Now, we let mom take over, and hope for the best.”
The glow of satisfaction covering her face was hard to resist, but he had years of practice holding out against temptations of all kinds. “There’s a half bath in the corner where you can wash up before you leave. I’ll bunk out here tonight, keep an eye on them.”
A teasing grin kicked up the tired droop to her mouth. “Does that mean we’re putting off discussing fucking for now?”
He huffed a laugh,
surprised by her teasing, blunt candor while she stood there drained and dirty. “Cursing doesn’t mean I’m interested in anything except your veterinary help, just so we’re clear on that before you go.”
Roz patted his shoulder as she strolled by him. “We can discuss it when you’re in a better mood. I’ll come by tomorrow to check on her unless you lock me out. Call if you need me again tonight.”
“I’m never in a better mood,” he called after her.
Her laugh carried back to the stall as she returned. “I can work with that,” she replied before she shut the bathroom door.
“Un-fucking believable,” Drake grumbled, hoping to avoid further contact with the infuriating woman.
****
Despite her worry over Mona, Roz drove to the clinic in a good mood. She didn’t question why she was drawn to the surly cowboy, just her sanity in intending to pursue him. She supposed that might work in her favor if she ended up in court over Dean’s condition. Drake could be a witness for her insanity plea. She giggled at the thought, her head and thoughts woozy from tiredness.
She fell asleep dreaming of a deep voice commanding her to strip and bend over, a calloused palm connecting with her butt, a hard body pummeling her depths until she cried out in orgasmic bliss. The sun hadn’t risen yet when she awoke sweating, her hand inside her panties and pressed between her legs, her nightshirt twisted around her waist.
“Wow,” she breathed, rubbing the heel of her palm against her slippery folds. If reality was a fraction as intense as her dreams, she might not survive an affair with Drake McCullough. “What the heck, since I’m already halfway there,” she mumbled, slipping a finger inside her pussy to stroke her engorged clit. It wasn’t as good, or what she thought would be better, as a bout of rough or kinky sex with her cowboy, but she’d take what she could get for now.
Roz slid her other hand under her top and cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple and adding another finger to torment her clit. When a climax still eluded her after a few minutes, she delivered a tight pinch to her nipple and clit, squeezing the tender nubs until the nip of pain drew a cry and a spate of cream from a strong, muscle-gripping contraction. “Yes!” Tighten, release, tighten release—over and over she manipulated the most sensitive parts of her body, her hips lifting into her marauding hand, her breathing growing labored with the rising tide of sensation.
The sun breached the eastern horizon outside her window as she burst into orgasm, her body convulsing with the pleasure gripping her fingers and tensing her muscles. “Oh, yeah,” she moaned, Drake’s image floating through her hazy head, that stern set to his mouth producing a little shiver as she rode the euphoric waves until they slowed to smaller laps that left her drenched and sated, at least for now.
Stumbling from the bed, she wobbled on shaky legs into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. Her tight squeezes had left her nipples and clit tender, but in a pleasant way. The shower helped clear her mind, and she put her cowboy out of her head as she dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved top, grabbed a cup of coffee then went to check on the animals. It was mid-morning by the time she walked the dogs and spent time with the horses before sitting down to a late breakfast of eggs and toast. She’d just finished when her phone buzzed and she recognized Gail’s number.
“Oops, I forgot to call you this morning,” she answered, remembering Gail had insisted on hearing back from her. “It was a late night, and I’m just getting around.”
“So, you went to the club? How did you like it?”
“I had a great time, met Karen from the clinic out there, and a few new people. I even tried the mechanical bull. That was an experience, and I have the bruises this morning to prove it. It was a blast, though.” Roz sipped her coffee, pondering whether to ask Gail what she knew about Drake McCullough, then Gail gave her the perfect opening.
“Who did you meet? I’m sure I know them if they’re from anywhere around here.”
“I didn’t bother with last names when I was dancing, but there was Don, Jerome, and Stan, at least I think the last one was Stan. I couldn’t hear him very well, and to be honest, my attention kept returning to one guy at the bar, Drake McCullough.”
“Oooh, girlfriend, you’re aiming high with that one. Every single girl within a fifty-mile radius has eyed the last single McCullough brother with longing. Did he actually introduce himself? He only socializes when Gavin and Cody need the extra help, keeps to himself a lot otherwise.”
Roz grinned, thinking of Drake’s displeasure when she’d arrived at his stable. “He didn’t have much choice after I showed up at his ranch to answer his emergency call. It took us over two hours to safely deliver a breech birth. Despite his less-than-welcoming attitude, it’s hard not to like a guy who cares so much for his livestock, not to mention the whole physical appeal of tall, dark, and brooding.”
“Yeah.” Gail sighed. “There is that. If I weren’t so crazy in love with Clive, Drake would tempt me to make a play for him.”
Roz was more than tempted, she was determined to go after what she wanted while still free to do so, and she really wanted Drake McCullough. “I gotta run, Gail. I need to drive out there and check on my patients.”
“Tell him I said hello. Talk to you later.”
After clicking off, Roz cleaned up the kitchen, hoping the quick orgasm she’d given herself would hold her until she could figure out a way to sneak past Drake’s reluctance toward getting to know her.
She found the way to the McCullough ranch much easier in the light of day, and as she drove through the open gates, could easily see across the wide-open range and make out a small scattering of cattle herded by cowhands. Off to her right, she caught a glimpse of several large rooftops and wondered if those buildings housed livestock and the feed needed to supplement their diet during the colder months.
Two trucks were parked in front of the stable when she arrived, and disappointment over not having Drake to herself defused the butterfly tingles of anticipation fluttering in her stomach. Sliding out of her car with her bag, she entered the stable and strolled toward the group gathered around Mona’s stall, her eyes drawn to the two men she recalled seeing last night at the club, conversing with Drake at the bar. They were both as tall and as broad as Drake, the family resemblance unmistakable in the strong jawlines, straight noses, sculpted mouths, and tanned, rugged complexions. Roz guessed the auburn- and sandy-haired women were the significant others Gail mentioned.
Like last night, her attention remained riveted on Drake as she walked down the aisle enduring the sparks of heat electrifying her blood. She didn’t waste time questioning the return of the odd sensations, choosing instead to follow where they led her, straight to the man whose sharp, blue-green gaze zeroed in on her as she approached. Without his hat, there was no mistaking the answering flare of heat in his eyes before he erased it with a blink, and she found herself the object of a focused scrutiny by the four other people.
“Good afternoon.” She approached smiling. “I’m Dr. Kingman, Dr. Winthrop’s new vet.” Her attention shifted to Mona and the colt. “How are they today?”
Drake stood next to the mare, stroking her neck. “She’s hanging in there, and he’s eating.” He nodded toward the gangly colt.
His gruff voice held a note of concern, and Roz rubbed her arm over the shirt sleeve where the prickles of heightened sensation continued to ghost over her skin. The sandy-haired woman regarded her movements, her caramel eyes widening as she nudged the redhead. Perplexed, Roz nodded her thanks to the blue-eyed brother holding the stall gate open for her as he introduced himself.
“Nice to meet you, Doctor. Thank you for coming out last night. I’m Gavin, and this is my fiancée, Aislyn.” Jerking his head, he introduced his other brother. “Cody and Olivia.”
“Are you cold?” Aislyn asked, both girls watching her closely.
“No, it’s a pleasant afternoon. Call me Roz.” Wanting to get a reaction out of Drake other than his usual stern look, she
entered the stall, flashing him a cheeky grin. “Drake and I are on friendly terms, and he seems to have a distracting, strange effect on me.”
“Really?” Cody cast Drake an interested glance, Aislyn and Olivia’s faces splitting into wide grins.
“No. Roz is a good vet, that’s it.” Drake pinned her with a laser glare, waving a hand toward the mare and colt. “Are you here to check them out or drive me nuts?”
“Both, if I can get away with it,” she quipped. The instant flame lighting his gaze when he first set eyes on her coming in had given him away. He was interested, just not happy about it. She could work with that.
Gavin laughed. “I think you’ve met your match, little brother. Roz, if you can, stick around. As soon as we see to a few chores, we’re going to cook out over at Cody’s place, right up the road.”
“I’d love to as long as I don’t get another emergency. I’m still on call.”
They turned to go, Olivia sending Drake a pointed look. “Be nice.”
“Damn meddlesome women,” Drake muttered as they left, but Roz saw a softening in his eyes when he looked at his brothers’ fiancées.
Pulling out her stethoscope, she couldn’t resist teasing, “It’s what we do best.”
“Do you take anything seriously?”
“Not if I can help it. Life is way too short not to take advantage of every moment and every opportunity.”
****
When Roz bent to listen to Mona’s heartbeat, Drake caught the fleeting pass of worry crossing her face. His abdomen clenched with the dominant urge to demand more details, and he fisted his hands to keep from reaching for her. Despite her claim, she took her job seriously, and he couldn’t help admiring her dedication, skill, and gentle treatment of his horse. As soon as she’d entered the stable, the need to stake his claim gripped him, to demand his family leave so he could bend her over a hay bale and plow into her from behind while filling his hands with that lush ass. She was fast becoming a temptation he didn’t want or need, and he couldn’t figure out what the hell to do about it, or her.