by Beverly Rae
Maybe staying in the same house isn’t a good idea.
Going against the warning thought, she let the sensations rush over her. His touch left her wanting more, ready to risk throwing caution to the wind. She scooted across the seat, settled next to Sara, who’d hopped into the driver’s side, then waited as Jimmy climbed in.
The closeness of him, his arm pressed against hers, flashed heat into her abdomen. A heat spread outward to sear desire into every nerve. She swallowed, unable to remember a time when she’d had such a strong reaction to a man.
Fearing she might take what her body wanted, she clasped her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead. Jimmy shifted, moving closer to her, putting his hard thigh against hers. Her mouth dried up and she stiffened, and she tried to keep her mind on other matters.
Think about Decker. Think about the weather. Think about anything else. But whatever you do, don’t look.
She lost the battle, letting her gaze slide to his crotch. Damn it. Stop it!
“So are you and Jimmy a couple?” She had to know, had to squelch her interest.
Sara started the engine then gripped the wheel. “No, we’re not involved. Not like that anyway.”
Good. Urgh! No. Not good. Come on, Mandy. Knock it off. You didn’t come here to get it on with another man.
Sara pulled the truck into the street and picked up speed. “We should, however, explain our living situation.”
Hell. What had she gotten into? Why had she let her hormones do her thinking? She took her hair and twisted it around her finger. “Please don’t tell me you’re part of a cult.”
Sara punched on the radio, and an old country song filled the air. “Hardly. But the Matheson Ranch is a big ranch which means we need a lot of hands to help with the chores.”
Mandy let out a sigh. “So it’s a working ranch?”
Sara pushed on the accelerator, racing the truck down the deserted stretch of highway.
“A hard-working ranch. Michael Matheson runs the place like a slave driver.”
Sara cast Jimmy a pointed look. “Jimmy’s never been big on working cattle. He’d rather use his head than his hands.”
I wish he’d use his hands on me. Sara groaned, unable to stop the wayward ideas from running rampant. “Right. He told me he’s in college.” She started to relax, their easy way telling her she had nothing to fear. “How many hands do you have?”
“I wouldn’t call them ranch hands exactly. Everyone on the ranch is a partner, sharing in the work and the money.”
Sara stopped the truck in front of a sign reading Matheson Ranch and nodded to Jimmy. He hopped out, opened the gate for the truck to get through, then closed the gate and snapped the lock closed. He was back in the truck in a few minutes.
A gravel road led to the big, two-story home. Windows sparkled in the sunlight, and colorful flowers sprouted from boxes positioned under every window. Another pickup and a sports car rested on the gravel parking lot next to the home.
“Here we are. Home, sweet home.” Sara waved as one after another, men burst through the front door and onto the wraparound porch. She twisted, her arm slung over the steering wheel. “Are you ready to meet the others?”
* * * *
The urge to keep Mandy in the pickup, to keep her all to himself, flooded Jimmy, throwing him a curve. She was his mate. But he respected the law of the pack, the rule that the entire pack would have to approve of his future mate and initiate her into their lives.
He inhaled, drawing in her scent mixed with the spicy fragrance of her perfume. Her aroma reminded him of a field of flowers made erotic by the underlying pheromones wafting off her. How he’d managed to keep from taking her, he’d never know. From the first moment, she’d driven him crazy and he’d had no option but to stay near her.
She edged forward to take in the men waiting for her. Although he could sense her fear, he could also sense her curiosity.
The dreams, the sex of the previous nights made his cock twitch in anticipation. He’d shared her with the others and he’d share her again now that she was here. But once the initiation was over, he’d claim her as his and his alone.
“Are you coming?”
He jerked out of his reverie to find her searching him, the green of her eyes deepening. “Yeah. Sure.”
She smiled, then slid out of the truck on the driver’s side. Shoving the door open, he leapt out, snatched her suitcase out of the back, and fell into step beside Sara and Mandy.
“Are you sure this is okay?”
He took her hand, a gesture that the others didn’t miss. “I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t okay.” Tossing the suitcase to Ranlon, he added, “Don’t let these animals fool you. Their barks are worse than their bites.” Not the truth, but she wasn’t ready for the truth yet.
“Hi.” Michael stepped forward, the first to greet her. “I’m Michael Matheson. Welcome.”
“I’m Mandy Garland.”
Although they tried, the men couldn’t hide their surprise. Jimmy hurried them on, wanting to make things go smoothly for Mandy. “Yeah. Glen Garland’s daughter. Now that we’ve got that over, let’s move on.”
“Sure, Jimmy.” Ranlon opened the front door and placed the suitcase inside. “I’m Ranlon Skylark. I guess you’re going to be staying with us? Like one of the pack?”
Jimmy shot Ranlon a hard look.
“She is.” Sara rested her hands on her hips. “How about we get the introductions out of the way so Mandy and I can get to know each other?”
“Good idea.” One by one, Jimmy introduced the men, not letting Mandy talk to any one for longer than a minute. At last, he placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered her inside.
Jimmy watched Mandy as she took in his home. Unlike before Sara joined the pack, the large great room was spotless. Light-blue curtains covered each window and big overstuffed furniture tempted visitors to get comfortable. Looking at the house from her point of view gave him a new perspective of his home. Pride welled inside him as he grabbed her bag and started up the stairs. “Follow me, Mandy.”
“Hold on, Jimmy. You can take her bag up to the guest room while Mandy and I get acquainted.” Sara looped her arm around the young girl’s. “I bet you’re starved, aren’t you? Come on. Let’s you and me go into the kitchen. I think we have some leftover fried chicken and apple pie Cally made before she left. She’s an up-and-coming songwriter so she travels to Nashville every so often.”
Knowing better than to stop Sara once she’d made up her mind, Jimmy hid his grumble and instead, let his gaze drift down Mandy’s back to her firm, round bottom. He tilted his head, enjoying her sexy sway.
“Down, boy.” Max Matheson, Michael’s cousin, bumped his fist into Jimmy’s shoulder. “If your tongue hangs out any lower, you’ll trip over it.”
* * * *
The kitchen was huge but cozy with big windows letting the light from the dimming sunlight spread over the white cabinets, granite countertops, and hardwood floor. Mandy paused, taking in the beautiful view outside a floor-to-ceiling window. “This is amazing.”
Sara pulled a tray of fried chicken from the oversized refrigerator. “Thanks. We like it. The original kitchen was fairly small, so we expanded the space last year. Please. Make yourself at home.”
Mandy took a seat at the wooden table and counted the chairs. Twelve chairs. One for each of the six men, one for Sara, and one for Cally. So who were the other chairs for? Children? Yet she hadn’t seen any signs of children in the house or on the yard.
“I bet you’re worn out from riding on that old bus. Not to mention the rest.”
The rest. Like the way her father had refused to have anything to do with her. The weight of the day’s events rested heavily on her shoulders. “Now that you mention it, I’m more exhausted than I thought.”
Within a few minutes, Sara placed a plate of warmed-up chicken, an enormous slice of steaming apple pie, and a cup of coffee in front of Mandy. “Sugar? Cream
?”
“No, thanks. Sara, are you sure this is okay? My barging into your home? I mean, I’m a total stranger.” She’d only asked the question again to be polite. Truth was she already felt at ease in the Matheson household.
Sara sipped her coffee while Mandy ate. “I’m positive. We’re happy to have you.”
Mandy accepted the sincerity, pleased that she could feel right putting the question to rest once and for all. “And everyone I met lives in this house? Are they related to each other…or to you?”
“Only Michael and Max are cousins, but the rest of us are very close friends. Very close.”
“You mean the kind of friends that you can count on, no matter what?”
“Exactly.” Sara looked thoughtful. “Even more than that.”
Mandy stared into the black liquid in her cup. What would it be like to have a lot of close friends? Friends that always had your back? “You’re lucky. My mom and I moved around when I was young. I’m not very good at making friends.”
“Really? I didn’t get that impression at all.” Sara dipped her head, a soft smile playing on her face. “But you can be lucky, too. If you want it badly enough.”
Yet before she could ask Sara what she meant, Sara pushed back her chair. “I think I hear a piece of pie calling my name.”
Instead, Mandy asked, “Do you find it hard living with six men?”
Sara came back to the table and took a bite before answering. She chewed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist having a taste first. Sure. Sometimes. Even one man can get on a woman’s nerves at one time or another. But six?” She chuckled. “You have no idea. Thankfully, it’s not just me any longer. Having Cally around helps a lot. Sometimes we go into Dallas and treat ourselves to a little girl time away from the pack.”
“The pack?”
“You know. The bunch of animals we live with.”
Hadn’t one of the men called them a pack, too? “I don’t mean to pry, but can I ask? Are you, uh, involved with any of them?”
Sara’s brown eyes dove into her as though getting ready to assess her reaction to her answer. “I’m involved with all of them. But Michael and I have a unique bond, a special connection. Much like the one you and Jimmy share.”
Mandy choked on her drink then sputtered as she tried to pull herself together. “Jimmy and me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” Sara took another bite then pulled the fork from her mouth with a moan of satisfaction. “I swear. Cally makes the best desserts.”
Mandy started to protest, but Jimmy popped into the kitchen, interrupting them. His presence, the sensuality he exuded, derailed her train of thought. She licked her lips. Her stomach flipped over and sent signals to the tender spot between her legs.
“Your room’s ready if you’d like to see it.” His grin was a like a high-intensity strobe light beaming into her, diving deeper inside her to surround her heart with golden warmth.
She prayed her sex-weakened legs would hold her weight. “I’d love to.” Rising, she followed him up the stairs. One look at the way his bottom moved in his jeans had her dropping her head to watch each step. If she didn’t, she would’ve grabbed his butt and squeezed as hard as she could.
“I hope this is okay.”
Mandy followed Jimmy into the large room. In the center was an enormous bed, big enough to hold several people. An oversized rustic dresser and two nightstands stood against the walls, while a cozy sofa and square coffee table rested in the middle of the room. Southwestern-style blankets lay on the bed and sofa, while pictures of cowboys herding cattle depicted life on a ranch.
She gasped, taking in the three vases of colorful flowers. “This is the guest room?”
Jimmy’s forehead furrowed. “Yeah. Is something wrong? Don’t you like it?”
“Of course I do. What’s not to like?” She ran a finger over the petal of a white rose. “Do all your guests get such lavish treatment?”
He shrugged. “No. But everyone wanted to make you feel at home. You know, comfortable. You’re not allergic to flowers, are you?”
She took his arm, felt the now-familiar zip race through her. “No, no. I’m crazy about flowers, and these are beautiful. It’s just that it’s so nice. I mean, we just met.”
“What can I say? We know when we like someone. Besides, after what happened with your father, we kind of hoped these might help cheer you up.”
His amber-flecked eyes dove into her and she had to force herself to move away from him. Still, she couldn’t keep the truth from coming out. “I like all of you, too.” She chuckled. “Weird, huh? Considering I just met everyone.”
Remembering how her father had reacted blindsided her, taking a physical toll. She sought out the refuge of the bed and sat on its edge before her legs gave out. “I’ve got to wonder, though, if this is the guest room, what’s the master bedroom look like? Is it the size of a small house?”
He laughed and placed her suitcase on top of the coffee table. “We’re Texans, you know. Everything’s big here.”
Everything? She looked at his crotch before she realized what she was doing. A rush of heat slid up her neck and into her cheeks. “Um, but when did you have time to do this?”
He sat next to her, his body’s warmth tickling the hairs on her arm. She inhaled, loving the musky, masculine scent. Yet underneath the initial aroma lay another, one that made her think of wild, passionate nights under a moonlit sky.
“Sara has a garden out back, so the guys and I gathered a few posies and brought them upstairs while you two were in the kitchen.”
She bowed her head, touched by their kindness. “Thank you. And tell the others thanks, too.”
He nodded then leaned closer to her. They sat together in an easy silence. How could a man make her feel comfortable and on edge at the same time? One minute she was sure she could tell him anything, like a confidant she’d known for years. In the next, his simple presence clawed at her, urging her to rip off his clothes and ride him until he begged her to stop. When had any man ever brought out such animalistic tendencies before?
She snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye. The man was testosterone in the flesh. Between his rugged jaw, his blond hair, and a physique most men could only hope for, he was more man than anyone she’d ever met. His friends were hot, too, but he had something extra. Something she couldn’t put a finger on. Something that could drive her insane with need.
A need she finally gave into.
She clutched his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. At first, he jerked away, but then he answered her need with his own. Groaning, he pushed her down and slid his body over hers. The kiss deepened, his tongue pushing into her mouth, his teeth nibbling at her lips. She took him in, delighting in the flavors that matched the wildness of his scent.
He tugged her blouse from the waist of her skirt then slid his hand under the material to her breast. He pulled her bra out of the way then thumbed her already taut nipple and groaned.
She tried to inhale, tried to bring his breath inside her. Arching, she gave him her silent consent to do more, to do whatever he wished.
He traveled his lips over her cheek, placing feather-light touches, then added his tongue to trace a path along the curve of her neck.
She closed her eyes, her pulse racing as he tortured her in his slow descent to her breast. At last, he closed over her nipple, dragging it into his mouth to tease it with a bite then a suck.
Wrapping her legs around him, she thrust her pelvis against his. He rose up, looking at her with his intense, amber-flecked eyes, then yanked her skirt out of the way and covered her mons. His touch opened her floodgates, releasing a small orgasm.
Keeping his gaze on her, he eased her thong aside, his fingers finding the slit between her folds. Her pussy tightened as though trying to pull him inside her.
“I’ve waited for you for so long.”
The words, spoken sweetly, almost reverently, were l
ost in his tone. She slid her leg higher and hoped he’d tear the string of material away. She almost cried with joy when he ripped it off her.
“Jimmy.” Other words weren’t necessary. Instead, the sizzle, the connection between them gave her so much more.
He licked his lips, his eyelids closing part of the way. Desire filled his expression, sending her longing even higher.
“Please.”
He found her sensitive nub and played it with slow, circular moves. She mewled, the sound coming from a place inside her she hadn’t known existed.
Rising, he studied her, his smoldering look of longing heating her skin. One by one he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a delicious, hard chest leading to a ripped torso. She reached out and slid her fingers over the contours, her nerve endings heightened at the barest of touches. Muscles rippled in his arms as he pulled the shirt off his shoulders then let it fall to the bed. Where wetness heated between her legs, her mouth dried up at the sight of him.
“Take off your shirt. Real slow-like.”
She smiled. If he wanted a show, she’d give him one. Sitting up, she crossed her arms in front of her, taking the trim of the blouse and inching it higher. He watched her like a hungry lion waiting for its prey. Teasing him, she took her time, letting the material drop, then taking it again to bring it a little higher the next time.
“What about you?” Her gaze dropped to his belt buckle then lifted to his face.
The sound of his chuckle tightened the ache in her stomach, and he tugged his belt loose. Pulling her shirt over her head, she tossed it to the side and followed it with her bra. He reached for her, skimming his palms along the swell of her breasts.
“Hey, don’t stop now. Keep going with the jeans, cowboy.”
“I don’t want to stop touching you.”
Truth was she didn’t want him to stop either. “Fine. Then let me help you.” One quick pull and his belt joined her blouse on the floor. The bulge straining his crotch called to her. “Now for the zipper.”
The musical tone of her cell phone started the moment she pulled the flaps of his jeans wide. She groaned and started to reach for her purse resting on the nightstand.