The Bad Ass Brigade: Bad Guys Beware. The Good Guys Are on the Prowl (A Taylor Lee Sizzling Romantic Suspense Collection)

by Taylor Lee

  Even from behind, Ana could tell this man was different, not like the other cowboys she knew. He was powerful, strong. But it was his voice, low, crooning, and commanding, that sent shivers coursing through her body. She tried to ignore the sensations flooding her. This was wrong. Bad. Who was he? How dare he come to a strange place uninvited and behave so disreputably? She chided herself. I have to get out of here. I must leave. What if he sees me? But she couldn’t go. Instead, she moved closer. Dammit, why couldn’t she look away? Why did she want to get closer, press harder against the stall gate to hear what he was saying? Why did need to know the words that were making Molly beg, and pant, and groan? And, damn, why couldn’t she take her eyes off the rope that held Molly exactly where the big man wanted her, a willing prisoner to his lewd demands.

  Ana clamped her hands over her mouth to smother the moans she couldn’t contain, when the big man hoisted Molly’s arse higher in the air and began thrusting in earnest. He held one hand over Molly’s mouth to stifle what would have been a piercing shriek. And then it was over. With a practiced flick of his hand, the man freed Molly’s hands and lifted her off her perch, settling her on the ground. The slight twitch of his tight butt confirmed that he closed the flap on his pants and stood fully dressed before the disheveled maid. Molly’s bright red cheeks, heaving breasts, and wide glowing eyes said what words couldn’t. The man chucked her under her chin and chuckled. His words were as shocking to Ana as his actions.

  “Thank you, lass. A most enjoyable way to make your acquaintance.” His voice was pleasant, unconcerned, as though she had given him a glass of water, not spread her legs and opened her womanhood to a total stranger. As though such a disgraceful act was not out of the ordinary; rather, that it was expected, appropriate.

  Molly tossed her head with a wide grin, straightened her wrinkled skirt, and tucked her breasts back inside her bodice. Ana noted with a silent snort that Molly’s pretend effort at latent modesty only emphasized the plump freckled mounds. Flushing brighter, her eyes dancing with mischief, Molly curtseyed, her eyes darting to the placket of the man’s trousers. Her voice was coarse, insinuating, pretending to an innocence belied by her brash appraising glance.

  “It was me pleasure, sir. You sure’n do know how to make a maiden blush. I donna know what came over me. I never done this before with a stranger.”

  His tone was faintly mocking, his words knowing. “I’m sure you haven’t, miss. Excuse me, but I didn’t catch your name – nor did I introduce myself.”

  Molly giggled. “Me name is Molly, sir. I’m the head maid to the young mistress.”

  Ana scowled at the blatant lie from the simpering maid.

  The big man bowed slightly. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Molly. My name is Gabriel McKenna.” He added with a chuckle, “My friends call me Gabe.”

  Molly tossed her head with an impudent grin. “Can I be callin’ you Gabe, or should I be sayin’ Mr. McKenna.”

  The man laughed. “Molly, I think that Gabe is quite in order.”

  At the sound of voices in the yard, Molly started and jerked toward the entrance.

  “I… I best be goin’, Mr. Gabe. Me mistress is a tyrant, a spiteful little lass. She wouldna be pleased to see me makin’ your acquaintance in such a familiar way.”

  The man leaned back against the post, amusement filtering his response.

  “I understand, Molly. Mistresses, especially spiteful ones, often resent the charms of a ‘maiden’ like you.” His ironic emphasis on the word was lost on Molly. With a saucy twitch of her butt, she flounced to the doorway and waved back at him over her shoulder.

  Annoyance roiled in Ana’s craw at her maid’s disgraceful assertions, but her anger was short lived. At that moment, Gabe McKenna turned toward her. For the first time Ana saw him full-face. She couldn’t contain her gasp.

  She knew from his name and the slight lilt in his voice that he likely was Irish. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of him. Curly black hair hung carelessly close to his collar. His skin was dark gold, tanned by the sun. A web of fine lines circled his eyes, confirming that his smile was not an aberration. His high cheekbones, firm chin, and full, sensuous lips made her bite down hard, to stop hers from trembling. But it was his eyes that stole her breath. Dark forest green, shot with a rainbow of competing shades of gold, they twinkled as if he were still amused at his most recent conquest. Ana had heard of black Irish, their stark beauty the stuff of legends, but this man was real. She had never seen anything like him.

  Reaching in his vest pocket, he pulled out an elaborately carved gold cigarette case. Removing a custom-rolled cigarette, he struck a match and lit it. He took a lazy drag, then blew a puff of aromatic smoke in the air, momentarily shielding his face. When the smoke cleared, he held the cigarette between his lips and began unwinding the rope from the hook. He coiled it over his shoulder in a practiced loop. The sight of his strong hands manipulating the sturdy rope shot a rush of sensation to Ana’s heated core. Unable to catch herself, she stumbled, knocking against the stall gate. Gabe started at the noise, then a slow grin spread across his face. He eased toward the stall with the lithe grace of a panther, easy, quick, menacing. Tossing the cigarette on the floor, he snuffed it out with his boot heel before kicking open the door.

  Chapter 2

  Gabe frowned at the sight of the young boy huddled in the corner of the stall. He was small, slender, and filthy. His black cowboy hat shadowed his face. From what Gabe could see, the kid’s face was as dirty as the rest of him. His tight riding pants, vest, and open necked plaid shirt were thick with dust. His scruffy boots were caked with mud. Gabe had a momentary twinge of guilt at what the youngster had observed, but quickly saw the humor.

  Stepping back so as not to overpower the young man, he tried to lessen the boy’s certain embarrassment with a joke.

  “Well, well, well, young fellow. This is quite a surprise. Hell, kid, you should have let me know you were there. Not that I mind an audience. But I prefer grown men who like to partner, not young boys barely out of knee pants.”

  When the kid tensed up and didn’t answer, Gabe saw he would have to take the initiative. “Okay, kid. Come on out. Much as I’m sure you’d like to hide in there all day, you’re going to have to face me sometime.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “C’mon. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not going to tell your boss. This can be between you and me. I won’t hurt you.”

  To his surprise, the boy straightened up and stepped forward. He glared at Gabe, his lips white with fury. His voice was harsh, angry.

  “First of all, I am not afraid of you. Second, I am not a kid, and third, I am not a boy. I am a woman! Now, get out of my way!”

  Gabe startled at the timbre of the kid’s voice, then stared in surprise at the angry girl who shoved past him. As she stormed by, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back.

  “Uh, uh. Oh, no, you don’t. You think you are going to drop that firebomb and waltz out of here?”

  She jerked away, trying to free her arm, but Gabe held her tight.

  “Not so fast, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s see what we have going on here.”

  Keeping a firm grip on her arm, he reached over and tipped up her hat. To his surprise, beneath the dirt and the palpable anger he saw the potential for a hell of a beautiful Chinese girl. Not stopping at her face, he raked his eyes rudely down her body, taking in the soft curves and lush mounds. He noted in appreciation that all the parts were just where they ought to be. He grinned at her, ignoring her obvious fury.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. I guess you’re right about one thing. You are a girl. I’m not sure about the woman part.” He chuckled. “That remains to be seen, but you definitely are of the female variety.” Nodding at her clothes, he added, “When did they start turning girls into stable hands? What did they do, honey, run out of boys?”

  She jerked hard and he let go of her arm, but eased her back against the stall, s
ubtly cutting off any escape.

  “I said, let me go! Now!” Her face twisted with anger. Her voice was fierce, although Gabe thought he detected an undercurrent of fear.

  Gabe tipped back his hat and grinned at her.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, sweetheart, you aren’t the one calling the shots here. And, honey, just so you know, I don’t take orders under the best of circumstances, particularly from haughty little girls who just spent the last fifteen minutes spying on me.”

  She sputtered, trying to back away, but hit the wall.

  “I did not spy. You! You are disgraceful! And… and… don’t you dare call me sweetheart or honey or anything like that. Do you hear me?”

  Gabe was having a hard time not laughing at her temper, but he had to admit she had guts. Hell, a man who outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and was a foot taller was looming over her — and she was threatening him!

  “Yeah, I hear you, sweetheart. And I see you. The way you saw me in an intimate situation and didn’t have the courtesy to announce yourself or better yet, walk the hell away from here. Why not, honey? Did you like what you saw?” When her face flushed a dark dusky pink, he pressed further. “What about it, sweetheart? Did you think if you hung around, you might get lucky?”

  She literally growled, then reached back and swung hard at him. She was quick, but he was quicker. He caught her hand inches away from his face. With a swift twist he bent her arm up behind her back, and pressed her hard against the wall, his body hovering next to hers. She cried out at the pain but he didn’t lighten his hold, if anything he tightened his grip. He leaned down, his lips next to her ear. He spoke softly but his voice was cold. For the first time his amusement was gone.

  “Honey, listen up. I don’t take orders from naughty little girls. Do you hear me? And, nobody, but nobody, hits me without serious repercussions. You got that?”

  When she struggled to move back, but only succeeded in burying her face against his chest, he took her chin between his finger and thumb, forcing Ana’s face up close to his.

  “Look at me.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head no, trying to jerk free.

  “I said look at me.” When she opened her eyes, tears swimming close to the edge, he repeated, “I asked you if you understand. Do you?”

  When she refused to answer, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Answer me!”

  In a barely audible whisper, she said, “Yes.”

  He stepped back and freed her arm. He was surprised at the anger swirling in his gut, but even more stunned at the tightening swell in his trousers. Christ, he cautioned himself. Don’t let this feisty little imp get to you. But, damn, there was something about her, her refusal to bow to him, to show her fear that impressed him. And hell, yeah, it turned him on. Deciding to take a different tack before he embarrassed them both, he took several steps back, a wicked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “Glad we’ve got that settled, honey.” He emphasized the endearment and grinned when she glared at him. “Just so you know, I don’t hit girls. Haven’t since I was four years old and Sarah was five. But, hell, she deserved it. She took my toy gun and wouldn’t give it back.” Glad to see the rigid muscles tightening her shoulders relax somewhat, he added with a wink, “However, I do spank little girls — and occasionally big girls when they misbehave.”

  Ana stumbled back at his arrogant taunt. Her eyes flickered frantically from side to side, then rested on the rope coiled over his shoulder. He intercepted her glance and saw her horror. His smile widened. He didn’t know why he was taunting her, teasing her. He knew at base she was embarrassed and probably as scared as she was angry. But he didn’t relent.

  “Hmm, so that’s how it is, little girl. I see the idea of me turning you over my knee excites you.” When she gasped, fiercely shaking her head, bright red splotches flaming her cheeks, he continued. “And something about this rope interests you, doesn’t it? Tell me, little girl, what was the best part of the scene you spied on? What turned this little voyeur on? You liked seeing your fellow servant tied up, at my mercy?”

  Ana put her hands up in front of her to ward him off and backed closer to the entrance, praying someone, anyone would come. She wished she had the courage, the wherewithal to wipe the smug grin off his face. But she knew better. The only thing she could do was not let him win. Not let him frighten her, or God forbid, make her cry.

  She tossed her head and glared at him, her voice laced with scorn.

  “Is that all you think about? Copulating? Doing… doing terrible things to women?”

  He laughed, the lines around his eyes deepening. He reached in his pocket for his cigarette case. Taking his time lighting the dark, sweet smelling Turkish cigarette, he blew the smoke up in the air and frowned.

  “Let me put it this way, my little voyeur. In a lot of years, with more women than I can remember, I’ve never had a single complaint.”

  She sputtered, “You are… are… the most arrogant bastard I’ve ever met. You are… despicable.”

  He nodded in agreement, a smile tweaking his lips. “Yeah, honey. You’re right about that. Something for you to keep in mind when you are thinking about how much you want me to ‘copulate’ with you.”

  Infuriated at his arrogance, Ana screwed up her courage. How dare he think she wanted him! Pinning a haughty glance at the bulge tightening the front of his trousers she shoved down her dismay at his clear arousal and sniffed.

  “Really, Mr. McKenna. I’m surprised at you. Even stallions have to wait for a few minutes between mares, but then they don’t have to tie up their mare to get them to agree.”

  Gabe threw back his head and roared. Within seconds, he was next to her. Wiping the tears of laugher from his eyes, he chortled. “Thanks for the comparison, little voyeur.” Moving closer, he reached out and stroked her cheek. His voice dropped to a husky rumble.

  “As for tying you up: I can tell when a woman’s breath comes faster and her cheeks flush, that being tied up might be of interest.”

  Ana choked and jerked free, knocking his hand away. She made it to the doorway without him stopping her, then she dashed across the courtyard, the sound of his laugher echoing behind her.

  ~~~

  Gabe watched her run across the cobblestone courtyard heading to the villa’s main house. Dragging on his cigarette, he marveled at what happened. A rueful grin tugged at his lips. The girl… no, the woman, he corrected himself—she sure as hell was right about that. Girls didn’t have an ass like that. She was in fact about as much woman as he had ever seen. And it wasn’t just her body. Damn, what a spirit. But who the hell was she? And what the hell was Chao Li doing, hiring young women as ranch hands?

  Turning back to the barn to get his pack, Gabe shook his head. The little vixen was right about something else. He was an arrogant bastard and probably as despicable as they came. With a name like McKenna, what could you expect? Hell, that wasn’t the half of it. If she knew what was good for her, she’d stay out of his way. And dammit, if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t get within ten feet of her again. With a rueful snort, he agreed with the devil inside him that controlled about ninety percent of what he said and did. Not going after her was about as likely as getting rid of this goddamned hard-on any time soon.

  Chapter 3

  Ana stood in front of the mirror, studying her naked body. Even ignoring the dirt on her face and hands and her filthy tangled hair, she had to agree, she did look strange. Strange, yes. But a boy? No! What the hell were these, she scoffed, glaring at the full mounds on her chest, topped by soft pink nipples? No boys she knew had these. She didn’t have to lift her breasts, they stood up as firm and full as anyone could wish. And she didn’t wish. If anything, they annoyed her. Just like her curvy hips and long legs annoyed her. And her butt. Damn, not that she wanted big doughy cheeks like Molly, but why were hers so tight and curvy? It was hard enough to find pants that fit and didn’t show her crack.

  For th
e last five years, since her thin strong body started betraying her, she had stood daily staring at the naked stranger in the mirror, growing more and more perplexed. What was it going to do next? Get even curvier? Grow another tit? That would probably help, she thought with a grimace. At least that way, she would look like as big a freak as she felt. She wouldn’t have to listen to the whistles and grunts when she walked in the barn. Maybe then the ranch hands who used to urge her to ride faster, jump higher fences would stop treating her like she was made of glass, when they weren’t ogling her and exchanging lewd grins.

  Until this point, she had managed to squelch the memory of what happened in the barn. But it came flooding back. She started, shocked at the change she saw in the mirror. Just thinking about that awful man, her cheeks flushed and, dammit, so did her chest. Even her nipples perked up. They came to attention, got tighter, harder, like ripe berries.

  With a harsh moan, Ana turned from the mirror and strode to the bathroom willing her faithless body to stop trembling. The elegant marble tile and gold plated fixtures in the fancy shower her father had installed for her beckoned her. It was her refuge. She didn’t care how the servants talked about how spoiled she was. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have the most elaborate servant’s quarters in California. You’d think they’d be grateful. The Chinese servants were as bad as the Irish ones. Those damn Irish. Her aunt who knew everything about what was proper and what wasn’t had insisted that they import Irish girls from the east. Apparently in Boston, anyone who was anybody had Irish servants, never Chinese.

  Ana growled as she stepped into the shower and turned the water on full blast. She hated her aunt, and she hated Molly with a vengeance. And that man, that awful, arrogant, beautiful man, she hated him most of all. No, that was wrong. She hated herself more. How could she ever live down what had happened? What she’d done! What she’d seen! Oh God, if anyone found out. The servants? Molly? Caitlin? They would tell the hands. She would be the laughingstock of the ranch.