Then he tilted her hips and inserted just the tip of his cock into her pussy. He dangled something rough against her right leg that caused her to twitch before he slid it into her hand. She squeezed her fingers around it. It felt like…rope.
Holy fuck.
Still breathing heavily, still just resting his cock an inch inside her, Wynton guided her hand between her thighs.
Keeping his hand circling her wrist, he dragged the rope across her clit.
Mel arched up. She tried to pull her hand away, but Wynton wouldn’t allow it.
“Ride that line between pleasure and pain.”
“I-I…what if it’s too much?”
Once again he layered his chest to her back. “There’s no such thing.” He sucked on her earlobe, impaled her fully, and pulled the rope across her clit all at the same time.
She screamed.
Wynton fucked her as rough and fast and hard as he’d warned he would. His harsh grunts, the sucking sounds of her pussy with his every stroke, the thump thump thump of the bench legs echoed around her.
Even before she started to come, Mel drifted to that place where anticipation met intent. She furiously rubbed her clit, her stomach tight every time the twine scraped over that swollen nub. But she couldn’t stop. It was so close… It was right…there.
The orgasm ripped through her. Her clit throbbed like she’d never felt it. Her pussy clamped down so hard on Wynton’s cock that she swore she could feel his heart pounding as he plowed into her. Every part of her body tingled. Her ears rang, her head went muzzy. She sucked in a deep breath and the last thing she heard before she passed out was Wynton roaring like a beast.
She’d blacked out.
Now Wynton had to know something was wrong with her. Women didn’t just pass the fuck out during sex—even as mind-blowing as that sex had been. At least she hadn’t checked out before the orgasm that would forevermore be “the orgasm” that all others would be judged by.
She wiggled her naked body. She turned her head. The pillow smelled like him. The scent immediately soothed her. As did the rough-skinned palm that skated down her arm.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Uh, how’d I get here?”
“You were seriously out of it after we…you know.”
The man was embarrassed? Get out.
“So I carried you into the house, undressed you, and tucked you in my bed.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Half an hour.” A soft kiss landed on her shoulder. “I fucked you so hard that you passed out, baby.” Another kiss. “I’ve never had that happen before.”
Now he sounded so smug. “It’s never happened to me before either.”
“One for the record books, Amazing Slut-Girl.”
Mel smiled in the dark. “True dat, Super Man-Slut.” The more conscious she became, the less it felt like she’d had an…episode. Maybe she was just thirsty, hungry, and tired because she’d worked all day, followed by getting spun inside out and upside down by one of the most intense sexual encounters of her life. What woman wouldn’t pass out from being exposed to Wynton Grant’s pheromones and sating his beastly sexual appetite after he’d made her come so hard she’d screamed? Twice?
“You all right?” he murmured.
“Mmm-hmm. I need to eat something and I’m really thirsty. But besides that…” She stretched. “I feel thoroughly fucked.”
He chuckled. “Me too. You sore?”
“A little.”
“My fault. Lemme fix that.” He slipped beneath the covers and positioned himself between her legs. He planted the softest kisses on her abraded clit.
“Wynton—”
“I just fucked you hard, fast, and rough, Melissa. Now let me make love to you slow and sweet.”
Like she could say no to that.
Chapter Eight
In the last three weeks, Wyn’s life had changed completely.
He’d fallen in love.
With a hookup.
A wedding hookup, no less.
It’s been more than a hookup since the first time you kissed her, dumbass.
True.
Wyn was done denying this was a one and done or hit it and quit it scenario. Melissa was meant to be his. Not for just a few lousy weeks, either. Now he just hoped that Melissa could see he was “the one” she’d been looking for.
How had he gotten so lucky? She was everything he’d wanted and feared he’d never find. She was perfect.
Perfect.
She’d proven it so many times, in so many ways.
She could ride a horse like no woman he’d ever seen.
She liked to just sit around and bullshit.
She liked to play video games.
She liked to play darts and pool.
She liked to curl up on the couch and watch TV.
She liked to cook.
She had a great sense of humor.
She loved sex—anytime, anyplace. She was as inventive in her suggestions as she was adventurous with his.
With each new thing he discovered about her, he fell harder for her.
Why was he reminding himself of all these awesome things about her?
Because Melissa had been a little…grouchy since yesterday. It wasn’t his fault that she’d fallen asleep in his bed after he’d made love to her. When she woke up—cranky as hell—she stormed off to her bed, insisting she slept better alone.
How would she know that if she hadn’t actually tried sleeping in his bed an entire night?
Maybe he’d man up and ask her that when he got home. He grinned. That’d get her riled up—and that was how he loved her best.
He slowed down and pulled into Cres’s driveway.
Cres was out of his house as soon as Wyn killed the ignition. As Wyn wandered up the driveway with a six-pack of Fat Tire beer, Cres said, “That’s your we’ve gotta talk look. So it’s finally time to deal with Dad’s bombshell?”
“I didn’t want this to be a pressure thing, Cres. I guess we could’ve discussed this while we were movin’ cattle.”
Cres dropped the tailgate on his truck. “Mel’s been around and it didn’t seem right to talk in circles or exclude her from our conversation. And every other time we’ve been together it’s been with Dad and Mom.”
Wyn hopped onto the tailgate beside his brother and handed him a beer.
“Thanks.” Cres said, “Does it surprise you that Dad hasn’t been bugging us to make a decision?”
“Dad’s got other things on his mind for a change. I’m happy to see that. Mom is too. So to be honest, I don’t think they care one way or another what our decision is because they’ve already made theirs. Make sense?”
“Yeah. And Mom’s too busy harassing you about what’s going on with you and Mel.” Cres sipped his beer. “Speaking of Mel…you two seem very happy to be playing house.”
Wyn scowled. “I hate that fucking term.”
“What else can you call it if it’s not a trial run for the real deal?”
“Piss off. And her name is Melissa, not Mel. Mel…well, that’s more in line with your tastes.”
Cres laughed. “True. I like her. She’s good for you.”
“So if I wanted to play house with her for real?”
“I’d probably come over more often since she’s a better cook than you.”
“Again, Cres, piss off.” Wyn cracked his beer. “I want her there for the long haul. Not just because she’s a good cook but because she’s…everything. I just feel in my gut she’s it for me.”
“Does she feel that way too?”
“I hope so.”
“Man, Sutton is so gonna rub it in your face that you’re pussy-whipped.”
“I deserve it.” He grinned. “I welcome it. Anyway, you’ve had a couple of weeks to think about Dad’s offer. Made any decisions yet?”
Cres looked at him oddly. “It never really was a decision for me, bro. I like ranching with you. It’d suck to do it by myself.
I say let’s keep it together. Same as it’s always been.”
Wyn held his bottle to his brother’s for a toast. “Amen.”
A few moments of silence passed.
“Since it seemed like you were dragging this decision out, I thought maybe you were gonna suggest we divvy it up.”
Wyn pinned him with a sharp look. “Why in the hell would you say that?”
Cres shrugged. “I came out last year. Everyone in the family has been supportive—even more than I expected. But supporting me in my personal life and bein’ offered a chance to cut ties with me professionally because of how I live my life… We both know it might affect who wants to do business with both of us, Wyn. I could see that dividing it would be an easy out for everyone. I think that’s why Dad offered it as a suggestion.”
“Bullshit. I thought you might be lookin’ for an out from ranching completely,” Wyn said. “Trying to figure out a way to sell your portion to me.”
“And what would I do if I wasn’t ranching? I’ve got no interest in doin’ anything else, so selling never even crossed my mind,” Cres said. “Besides, knowing us, even if we divided it up, we’d still work together most days anyway.”
“True.” Wyn swallowed a mouthful of beer. “So we good?”
“I reckon. Be weird not havin’ Dad around day-to-day. I’m gonna miss him and those fucked up curse word combinations he uses when he’s frustrated.”
Wyn smiled. “I’m gonna miss him too. He and Mom deserve a chance to spend the money he’s been saving all these years. As for us…dividing the profits by two instead of by three will take some getting used to.”
Cres grinned. “That extra cash will come in handy for you since you’re playin’ house.”
“Asshole. What about you and Mick? Any thoughts of playin’ house with him?”
“It’s casual,” was all Cres said. “He’s comin’ to help load for the Denver trip tomorrow.”
“That’s an overnight trip.”
“Yep. If you gotta problem with that, let me know.”
Wyn shot him a don’t be an idiot look. “I don’t.”
“Good.” Cres exhaled. “Thanks. Christ. I don’t know fuck-all about havin’ a boyfriend, bro.”
“Mick keeps comin’ back around, so you must know how to do something right.” As soon as that left Wyn’s mouth, he groaned. “Shit. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Cres laughed. “How ’bout we don’t go there. Ever.”
“Deal.” He smirked. “Although…Melissa said you and Mick together…that’d be live porn she’d watch.”
“Jesus. No wonder you love her. She’s as perverted as you.”
After almost three weeks of ranch life, Mel hadn’t gotten used to waking up at the butt crack of dawn and hauling her carcass out of a toasty bed.
So Wynton’s way-too-early, and way-too-chipper summons, “Up and at ’em, Kentucky,” as he beat on her door annoyed the crap out of her.
Mel forced herself to respond, “I’ll be there in five,” somewhat politely, instead of yelling at him to get the fucking battering ram away from her door.
Yeah. She was punchy and cranky.
After taking her shot of insulin, she shoved a glucose pill in her jeans, packed her coat pockets with snacks and filled her water bottle. The last day of shipping cattle meant everyone was in a hurry, so she didn’t have time for coffee or breakfast.
Mistake number one.
Once she’d saddled up and the sun had come out, she’d immediately overheated. She took her jacket off and tossed it over a fencepost.
Mistake number two.
Since this was the largest group of cattle going to market, of course everything went wrong. Which meant she spent four hours chasing down runaways and culling cows from the milling herd.
Four hours without a break, without water, and without her trusty snacks.
Mistake number three.
But rather than tell Wynton she hit the hypoglycemic stage and was about to crash, she decided it’d be better to just go off and crash alone.
Mistake number four.
The edges of her conscious began to shrink in on her like a camera viewfinder that starts out close, but objects get smaller and farther away until everything is fuzzy and ringed with black.
She rode to the barn and dismounted. If she could just have a few minutes of clarity to unsaddle her horse while those guys—loaded or unloaded the cattle?—she couldn’t remember, she could probably make it to the house before she collapsed.
Wait. The house was collapsing? Why?
She was so confused.
Where was she? What happened to her horse?
Mel spun around and that action caused a quick spike of pain. She tried to pat the top of her head to see if some asshole had buried an ax in her skull, but she ended up smacking herself in the face.
Fuck that hurt.
Take a pill for it.
Good plan. She dug in her pocket—why weren’t her fingers working?—and found a round, white thing. She squinted at it. After enclosing it in her fist, she went to find water. She took two steps forward and swayed.
Whoa. When had she gotten on the carousel? Why was everything spinning so fast it was blurred? What was that loud, whooshing noise?
She made it to a bale of straw before the darkness overcame her.
Chapter Nine
After the cattle truck rumbled down the driveway, Wyn did loading chute maintenance—his least favorite part of shipping cattle. But if he didn’t fix the problems now, they’d have issues the next time they used the chutes because he wouldn’t remember what needed done.
He’d welcomed Mick’s help today. Wyn was especially grateful that Mick was riding with Cres to the sale barn, so Wyn could catch up on the piles of paperwork that always accompanied selling cattle. Cres and Mick planned to stay overnight in Denver before heading home. He wouldn’t begrudge his brother a little personal time since he’d come to realize how much he needed that in his own life.
Speaking of…he wondered where his hot, redheaded cattle cutting expert had gone. She’d been acting a little weird toward the end.
He saw Plato in the corral, but it looked like he still wore a bridle and bit. Melissa would never turn him out like that.
“Melissa?”
No response.
An eerie feeling rippled down his spine. “Melissa?” he called into the barn.
No answer.
If his head had been turned the other direction, he might’ve missed her. But the red in her corduroy shirt snagged his attention. He sauntered up to the hay bale she sat on and noticed her eyes were closed. “Napping on the job, Kentucky? For shame.”
Melissa didn’t acknowledge him at all.
Man, she was really asleep. But as soon as he stood in front of her, he knew she wasn’t napping. Something was wrong with her.
He crouched down and took her hand. Holy shit, it was like ice. But he saw her forehead was damp with perspiration and her face was flushed. He tried to shake her. “Melissa?”
She mumbled something.
“Baby, you’re scarin’ me.” Wyn noticed her other hand was closed in a tight fist. He pried her fingers open and saw she’d clutched a white pill. He remembered her complaining of a bad headache last night before she’d gone to bed in her own room. How many of these had she taken?
When her body started to shake uncontrollably and even that didn’t wake her up, he dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.
After he’d given them the information, hearing the word overdose—which he vehemently argued against, he decided to buck the operator’s judgment and move Melissa to the ground.
He’d just propped her head on his jacket when he heard the unmistakable sound of a cattle truck rumbling up the driveway.
His annoyance that Cres had forgotten something again, was immediately replaced with a sense of urgency. Mick had medical training.
Wyn carefully lifted Melissa into his arms and carried her
out of the barn. He’d made it halfway to the house when both men jumped out of the cab of the truck and ran toward him.
“What happened?” Cres demanded.
“I don’t know. I found her like this. Mick, help her,” he pleaded.
“Completely unresponsive?”
“Yes. Then she started to shake, almost like she was having a seizure.”
“Take her in the house. You called 911?”
“Just got off the phone with them, but they said it’ll be at least fifteen minutes.”
Once they were inside, Wyn laid Melissa on the couch. He hovered over her as Mick poked and prodded her.
“Is she on any medication?”
“I don’t know.” He paused. “Wait, she had this in her hand.” He passed over the pill.
Mick held it up to the light and frowned.
“What?”
“It’s a glucose pill.”
“What’s that?”
“Diabetics take them when their blood sugar levels are low.” Mick looked up at him. “Wyn, is Melissa diabetic?”
“I have no idea. She’s never mentioned it to me.”
“You haven’t seen her testing her blood sugar levels first thing in the morning? Or the last thing before she crawls in bed at night?”
Suddenly, her secretiveness, her insistence on sleeping in her own bed at night and even locking her damn door in the morning made sense. Wyn said, “Fuck. We don’t sleep in the same bed. She claimed she’s a restless sleeper and needs her own space, so she’s been sleeping in the guest bedroom. But obviously it was so she could keep this from me. Why would she do that?”
“Worry about that later. Right now, go into her room and see if you can find a blood glucose meter, some kind of insulin injection instruments. Hopefully she’s got a Glucagon rescue kit.”
Wyn looked at Cres with utter confusion. “What did he say?”
“Mick, under the circumstances it’d be better for you to do it since you know what to look for,” Cres said.
“Where’s her room?”
“Last one at the end of the hallway.”
Mick took off.
Wyn dropped to his knees beside Melissa. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You and me are gonna have a serious talk when you’re not goddamned unconscious.”
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