Texas Roses (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

She takes it from me, tears open the package, and rolls it on as expertly as I’ve ever done it. “How do you like it?”

  “Want to move to the bed?” I ask.

  She shakes her head in disgust. “On Aaron’s bed? Ew.”

  I chuckle. “But their counter is okay.”

  “Counter, wall, floor, shower. Take your pick.”

  “I pick all of the above.”

  She grabs my cock. “Then you better get started. It could be a long night.”

  She guides me inside her, and I struggle not to come immediately when she lies back on the counter. I fondle her breasts as I thrust in and out while putting together my grocery list in my head, determined not to come like some adolescent virgin.

  “Clit,” she says breathily.

  I remove a hand from her boob and rub her clit in slow circles.

  “Faster.”

  I love the way she directs me. It’s hot.

  She scoots to her right, leaving me pumping in and out at an angle. “That’s perfect. Right there,” she says, arching her back.

  With one of my hands otherwise occupied, she takes it upon herself to squeeze and pinch her left nipple. The sight of it takes me to the edge. I pray she’s right there with me. But just to make sure, I remove my hand from her other breast, slip it beneath her, and press a finger on the pucker of her ass. That’s all it takes to have her bucking into me, shouting at the heavens once again. I grunt and come along with her.

  With me still inside her, she reaches over and turns on the faucet, catching water on her fingers and flicking it on her chest to cool her. She looks up at me. “Well, that was fun.”

  “Give me ten and we’ll move to the wall.”

  She sits up and I fall out of her. She carefully removes the condom, ties if off, and tosses it into the trash. Then she washes up, walks naked to the fridge, and opens it. “Think they have anything to eat here?”

  I stare at her, bending over, ass to the world, and know I’ve died and this is heaven.

  Three hours and as many orgasms later, she’s putting on her dress, not bothering with her bra, torn panties, or shoes. She grabs the bourbon and heads to the door. She lifts the bottle. “I’m taking this.”

  “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  Her eyes narrow defensively. “We agreed this was a one-time thing.”

  “I meant because I’m flying you to the airport.”

  “Oh, right.” She relaxes. “See you then.”

  She goes through the door, leaving in her wake the best night I’ve ever had in all of my twenty-six years.

  Chapter Four

  Amber

  I stretch and peek at the clock. It’s almost noon. Twinges in my back remind me how sore I’m going to be after last night’s escapades. Quinn was fun; I get all the hype.

  Rolling over, I stare at my suitcase in the corner. I have to meet him in a half hour for our departure. I should have set an alarm, because now, I don’t really have time for a shower. “I did take one last night,” I say out loud. I surmise that’s good enough and that I can sleep for another fifteen minutes.

  Incessant thumping on my door awakens me. “Amber!”

  I sit up quickly, rubbing my temples when they pound in defiance.

  “Amber, you’re going to be late,” Quinn says from outside my door.

  I pull the sheet around me and let him in. “Can you quiet down, please?”

  “You were supposed to meet me downstairs fifteen minutes ago.”

  “It’s not a big deal. You don’t have to be at the airport as early as they say. All I ever do is sit around.”

  I drop the sheet and reach into my suitcase for a bra and panties. Then I pull on comfortable yoga pants and a cotton shirt. When I turn, Quinn is staring. And there’s a definite bulge in his pants. I nod to it. “Better remind that thing you’re a one-and-done kind of guy.”

  “What the hell do you expect when you get naked in front of me? It’s not like I can control it, you know.”

  I hurry to the bathroom, brush my hair and teeth, then gather my toiletries in my arms and walk out and throw them into my suitcase. I pick my dress up off the floor and stuff it in as well. Finally, I zip it, sling my purse over my shoulder, and stand by the door. “Well?”

  “I’ve never seen a woman get ready so fast and still look…” He scrubs his jaw. “Forget it. We should go.” He takes my suitcase and we go downstairs. He leaves my bag at the door. “Wait here.” He trots to the kitchen and returns with a muffin, a cup of yogurt, a spoon, a bottle of water, and a paper bag presumably filled with snacks for him.

  “Breakfast to go? You really didn’t need to go through all the trouble.”

  He hands me the food. “Or just thank you will do.”

  I chuckle. “Thanks. So how does this work? Is your helicopter right outside?”

  “Did you hear a helicopter? No, it’s not here. I’ll take you to the airstrip in my truck. There’s a helipad there.”

  He opens the door for me. I’ve only been here for twenty-four hours, but in that time, I’ve learned that southern guys open doors for women a lot more than the men in New York City do. Where I come from, just outside the city, is somewhere in between.

  I pick at my muffin on the short ride over. When the helicopter comes into view, I find myself impressed. “It’s huge.”

  He smirks. “That’s what she said.”

  I hit his arm. “The helicopter, you brat. I expected something smaller.”

  “It’s an Airbus H155. We bought it from Gavin McBride’s production company. Since he owns both that and the ranch, he sold it for a steal. She’s got a 533-mile range, a 41-foot rotor diameter, a max speed of 200 miles per hour, and her rate of climb is 1750 feet per minute.” He looks at it almost like how he was looking at my naked body last night. “Beautiful, huh?”

  “I suppose if you’re going for the huge man-toys equals huge penis thing.”

  He laughs. “You’re right. I should have gotten a bigger chopper.”

  “You’re hopeless.” I roll my eyes.

  He parks and gets my suitcase loaded. “Ever been up in one?”

  “This will be my first time.”

  He smiles. “It’s better than sex.”

  I lift a brow.

  “Okay, so maybe it’s not better than last night’s sex, but most sex.”

  I try not to gloat. He’s right, though. It was pretty spectacular.

  He hops in the back and extends a hand. “Come on in. I’ll get you situated.”

  With his assistance, I climb up. The inside is nothing like what I expected. It looks like the back of a limousine. Plush white leather seats, two rows of six facing each other. Large windows on both sides promise one hell of a view. I peek over the front middle seats and into the cockpit, duly impressed that Quinn knows how to handle this thing with all the instruments and gadgets.

  “Take your pick. Or you could sit in the front with me.”

  My eyes snap to his. “Isn’t anyone else coming?”

  “Nobody else was stupid enough to leave the day after a wedding. Don’t you have a hangover?”

  “Nothing a little Advil won’t cure. And I’m good back here. I don’t trust myself not to touch something up there.”

  His lips turn up into a grin as if he thinks that something is him.

  “Then how about a seat by the window?”

  I sit in the rightmost seat facing forward, and he buckles me in and tightens the strap. I can smell him. He took a shower.

  He pulls a headset from above and puts it on me, then lifts one side off my ear. “To muffle the noise, and also so we can communicate. Is the fit okay?”

  He hovers over me, and it reminds me of last night. I have flashbacks of him looking at me this way. In the kitchen. On the floor. In the mirror over the bathroom sink. “It’s fine.”

  “Sit back and relax. The ride will take about twenty minutes.”

  He settles the headset in place, and I give him a thumbs-up.


  He disappears after closing me in, then the back of his head pops into my sight as he sits up front. He puts on his own headset, does things to some buttons and flips switches, and I can feel the helicopter come to life. It gets loud, and I can see the shadows of the whirling propellor thingies on the pavement. He turns slightly. His mouth is moving, but I don’t hear him.

  “Quinn? I didn’t hear you.”

  He glances back. “I wasn’t speaking to you. I was speaking to Ken, the flight controller, giving him my flight plan.”

  “Helicopters have to do that?”

  “Not if I’m giving tours or flying beneath controlled air space, but since we’re flying into an airport, they have to know. I’m able to turn off the main mic, so you won’t hear me unless I’m talking directly to you. But I’ll hear you, so if you need anything, speak up.”

  “Okay.”

  It’s strange hearing him through the headset. It’s like he’s talking to me inside a tunnel. This whole thing is surreal. I’ve seen helicopters before, mostly in movies. And I’ve flown on plenty of planes, but it’s kind of strange knowing the person flying. If I’m being honest, it’s hot. The power he has in his hands right now is astounding.

  We start to rise off the ground. I can barely even feel us moving. Out the window, the lodge comes into view. It’s so much smaller from up here.

  “Look down,” Quinn says. “I was going to give you a tour of the whole ranch, but there’s no time. However, you can’t leave without seeing this. See those ridges down there?”

  I study the landscape. “They look like… oh, yeah, devil’s horns.”

  “It’s how they got the name of the place.”

  “Wow. Now I’m bummed I overslept. I’d love to see all of it.”

  “Some other time.”

  I don’t tell him there’s no reason for me to return. I’m quiet as I gaze out the window. The view is mesmerizing—green as far as the eye can see. Fields and pastures are broken up by tree lines and dirt roads. Every once in a while, a house seems to sit in the middle of nowhere. Scores of cattle graze in one area. We fly over what looks to be a rodeo. I want to ask Quinn about it but figure what’s the point?

  It’s a perfect day. A few wispy clouds lurk above, but the sun is shining. When we turn a certain way, the shadow of the helicopter appears on the ground. I’m surprised because it seems like we’re pretty high up here. It’s incredibly serene. It almost makes me want to stay. Life seems so simple here. There’s no rat race. No hurry to get anywhere. No business lunches or deadlines. I sigh and stare out the window. No birth moms trying to walk the line. No sick fathers who can’t even remember me.

  Suddenly, the helicopter jerks violently to one side, and everything goes quiet. Too quiet.

  “Quinn, what’s happening?”

  He doesn’t speak. I stare at the back of his head. It seems like we’re gliding, but something is definitely wrong. I can’t hear the engine. I take off the headset, and it’s dead silent.

  “Quinn!” I yell.

  He doesn’t turn. My heart races. Outside, the houses aren’t so small anymore, but I don’t see an airport anywhere in sight.

  “Quinn! Tell me what the hell is happening.”

  He rips off his headset. I think he throws it on the seat next to him. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

  “I don’t hear the engine. That can’t be good.”

  “We’ve lost power. Don’t panic. Look out the window and up. The rotors are still spinning. I can get us down.”

  “Don’t panic? Are you fucking kidding me? We’re going to crash!”

  “We’re not going to crash. I’m autorotating us down.”

  “I don’t know what that means. I’m freaking out here. Will you say something I can understand, please?”

  “Listen to my voice, Amber. I know how to do this. I learned in flight school. There’s a lot of kinetic energy stored in the rotating blades. I lowered the collective, and that flattened out the pitch, which gets rid of the drag and allows the rotors to continue to spin. We’re not just going to fall out of the sky. We’re going to glide down. The air is coming up from underneath like a pinwheel and will keep the rotors spinning. As long as I maintain rotor RPM, we’ll be okay.”

  I somehow get the idea he’s talking to himself as much as he is to me, because I don’t comprehend a word of what he’s saying, but just hearing him speak is comforting. He wouldn’t be talking if we were really going to crash. Would he? My whole body is tense. “Quinn…”

  “I’ve been trained for this,” he says without so much as a quiver in his voice. “And so far, everything I’ve learned is working. It’s much better to be in a helicopter than an airplane during an engine failure. It’s easier to land. Like cars, helicopters are flown by feel and visual reference. Make no mistake, I still have control here.”

  An alarm sounds, scaring the shit out of me.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he says. “It’s the low rotor RPM horn.”

  “But you said you had to keep up RPMs or something.”

  “Amber, trust me. I’m doing everything by the book. We’re going to be okay.”

  I look out the window. There are telephone poles and electrical wires and green grass. Lots and lots of green grass as far as my eyes can see. We’re going down quickly, even though I can’t feel it.

  “How… how will we land? Will we hit hard? Do I need to put my head between my legs?”

  “We’re landing in that field down there. I’m not gonna lie, the landing could be rough. I’ll try my best, but I’ve only done this in simulation, never a full down autorotation. At the last second, I’ll pull the nose up, which should cushion the landing. It won’t be long now. I’ll tell you when.”

  “Oh my god, Quinn.”

  “Amber, I’ve got you.”

  I think about Dad and all the things I would say to him if I could. About Piper—how I should tell her I appreciate everything she does trying to make me feel like part of a family again. About my best friend, Tag, and how I should force him to finally give up his cigarette habit. Then I think about the man up front, who may be the last person I ever see.

  “Here we go. Hold on to something.”

  I jam my right foot against the side of the frame, and shooting pain sears up my leg. The helicopter jerks up and then down, and I feel momentarily weightless before we thud to the ground. Other than my screaming nerves and painful leg, it was almost a nonevent. Not exactly the crash landing I was expecting.

  I open my eyes and scan outside. He’s landed us between two trees and a telephone pole. I breathe in and out, in and out—through the pain in my leg. The door opens and Quinn jumps up. “Jesus, are you okay? I heard you scream.”

  “It’s my foot. I jammed it hard when I braced myself. I think I might have broken it.”

  He unbuckles me, sits on the floor in front of me, and puts my leg on his lap. “Damn.”

  “What happened up there?”

  “Complete engine failure. Communications. Everything.”

  “How can that happen?”

  “It doesn’t. Like, there’s a one-in-a-million chance of it.”

  I belt out a sarcastic laugh. “Just my luck.” I glance outside. “How did you land without hitting those trees?”

  “I told you I was still in control.”

  “I’m… amazed. I mean, I’m officially terrified, I feel like puking, and I’ll probably never fly again, but I’m amazed.”

  He blows out a long breath. “I’ll let you in on a secret. So am I.”

  “Amazed or terrified?”

  “A little of both.”

  “So you’ll never do this again either?”

  “I’ll be back up there as soon as she’s fixed.”

  “After what we went through?”

  “Amber, flying is still a thousand times safer than driving.”

  “Tell that to my foot.”

  He gets off the floor and holds out a hand. “Can you
get up?”

  I stand, putting all my weight on my left foot. When I try to take a step, pain sears up my right leg, and I fall back down on the seat. “No way.”

  He looks around. “Okay. We’ll think of something.” He pulls out his phone, taps around on it, shakes his head, and tucks it back into his pocket.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, as best I can tell, we’re smack in the middle of Blue Horse Ranch. Which means I’ve landed us in one of the only spots in Northeast Texas without cellphone reception. And you can’t walk out of here.”

  Chapter Five

  Quinn

  Amber pulls her phone out of her bag. “Zero bars,” she says, holding it higher as if it will make a difference. “How can we not have coverage? Isn’t it everywhere?”

  “We’re on Blue Horse Ranch. It’s over five times the size of DHR. It covers about 50,000 acres. Butch Nelson, the owner, was offered a lot of money to put cell towers on his land, but he refused. Said it could somehow hurt the animals.”

  “Stupid man. What’ll we do?”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  Her gaze falls to my biceps. “I know you’re strong and all, but I doubt even you could carry me for that long.”

  I check our surroundings. I was pretty accurate when I told her we landed right in the middle. I fly over this place all the time. No way can I carry her out of here. “Are you sure you can’t walk?”

  “Get me out of this thing and I’ll try again. Maybe if I can put some weight on you.”

  I scoop her into my arms and carefully exit the chopper, then I put her down on the grass, hoping it provides cushion. She balances on her left foot as I support her. “Try a few steps. I’ll help.”

  She tries to take a step and almost falls. I catch her and put her back in the helicopter. “Can’t you just use your radio thing and call for help?”

  “The radio isn’t working either.”

  “No phones. No radio. It’ll be dark in four hours. Great. What are we supposed to do, butcher a cow for dinner?”

  I laugh. “Food is what you’re concerned with?”

  “People starve all the time in situations like this.”