The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Stacey Espino

  At least the sky was coming to life. It had been shades of blue and pink only an hour earlier when she’d walked to the main house with Wyatt. Now the sun grew in strength, changing the sky to a brilliant robin’s-egg blue. Back home she’d forgotten what real color was, everything seemingly black and white. Out in the country, without the harmful effects of pollution and smog, she could appreciate nature’s palette. She could breathe easier, each lung full of air sweet and unlabored.

  Her horse shook its head to dislodge the black flies. At any moment she could be ousted. If the horse decided to be uncooperative, how would she demand it behave with no previous experience? She cooed, reaching one hand forward to stroke its strong neck. Please behave for me. At that moment, Ethan turned his head, locking eyes with her.

  The cowboys kept quiet, and only the occasional grunt from the horses or cry of a hawk above broke the morning hush. It gave Rachel time to think and reflect. What was Jason doing now? Did he finally realize the error of his ways now that she’d left? Was he looking for her? She doubted both counts but still couldn’t help but worry. Rachel was hardwired to put her own feelings and needs on the backburner, but that had to change. She had to remember that any promises would be false, stolen away as soon as she set foot back in their apartment. In fact, she was terrified of running into him again.

  Rachel wondered what her future held now that she’d set off on her own. It had to be done, and she wouldn’t turn back time now even if she could. Yet, the uncertainties weighed heavily on her shoulders. She craved security and roots, peace and happiness. And love. Rachel wondered how many women had shared Wyatt’s and Ethan’s beds. She imagined the encounter last night was as commonplace as corralling horses for the two hard-core cowboys. But it had meant the world to her. It had been her first bold move, accepting what her heart desired rather than doing what she knew was expected of her. If only it meant the same to her temporary roommates. If only this beautiful land was the birthplace of everlasting love. It appeared magical enough. Unfortunately, Rachel learned long ago that fairy tales seldom came true for women like her. It didn’t leave her void of wanting, though.

  Watching the rugged cowboys, so masculine and tempting, brought strong urges rushing to the surface. Would Ethan and Wyatt attempt to seduce her again tonight? Or had they realized the error in starting something sexual with her? All she knew was that she’d welcome another advance, secretly yearning to be dominated by such raw male strength.

  “We should take the pass through the creek,” said Jesse, the dark-haired cowboy. “It’s good and low due to the drought.”

  “This way is safer for Rachel,” said Ethan.

  The two new cowboys rode side by side, grumbling something about Ethan’s leadership. He either couldn’t hear from way up front or chose to ignore them.

  “I’m sure she’d do fine. Ain’t she supposed to be a new handler? The creek’s only a foot deep, if that.”

  “I said we’ll go the usual way.” There was a threat in Ethan’s tone which she’d never heard. The dominance didn’t inspire fear in her. Rather, his voice made her body yearn to be alone with him, to have his skilled lips between her legs again. Just remembering the blinding peak he’d brought her to so effortlessly made her pussy moisten, making for an uncomfortable trip in the saddle. Each step the horse took only served to aggravate her throbbing clit, a twisted kind of torture.

  After another hour of walking and occassionally trotting, they reached open country with green pasture as far as the eye could see. It was paradise. The shades of green met the sky at the horizon, creating a bold contrast of brilliant colors. A gentle brush of the breeze sent the longer grass rippling, an endless ocean she craved to lose herself in. This land made her feel young and carefree again. There were no more reasons for her to hold on to fear, she had to remember that. Rachel could imagine running through the grass, the sun warming her cheeks, and the soft earth beneath her feet. Now she could experience those things without reprimand.

  Horses dotted the distant landscape like tiny ants. It was nothing like she’d ever seen before. Jesse and Trevor immediately took off, breaking into a full gallop. She could feel the beat of the horses’ hooves as they raced for the horizon.

  Ethan turned around and joined her, sidling his horse up next to hers. “This is where the fun begins,” he said. “You ever run with a herd of horses?”

  She shook her head, lacking the energy to lie.

  “It’s fun.” He smirked, a slight dimple giving him a boyish quality. Only Ethan was anything but a boy. He was rock solid with strong, masculine features. When he stared at her the way he did, she felt like the only woman in the world. “Just hold on tight, brace your shoes in the stirrups, and let your horse take the lead.”

  “Got it.”

  He tightened the string on his cowboy hat and then turned his horse to face the distant herd. “Don’t forget what I said—hold on.” Then he twirled an arm in the air with a holler before charging across the fields. Rachel hadn’t planned on following straightaway, but her horse had a mind of its own. The first jolt of speed almost left her behind, her balance temporarily lost until she recalled Ethan’s words. She held on for dear life, not worrying about getting the horse to listen to her at this point. The animal beneath her was a marvel. It effortlessly crossed the field in no time, its powerful muscles bringing them to eye-watering speeds. A blur of green swept by her peripheral vision. She couldn’t hear or think of anything but the urgent rhythm of hooves.

  When they finally slowed, she tried to regain her composure. After her initial shock, she’d had a couple minutes of pure reckless abandon. The feel of the wind whipping through her hair and the world passing by in a blur made her feel more alive than ever. She realized she’d been existing in stasis and had forgotten what it was to laugh out loud.

  Trevor bumped legs with her. He had another horse in tow, the rope tethered to his saddle.

  “That was fast,” she said, admiring the beautiful black horse. It was spirited, attempting to rear up, but the cowboy was unfazed.

  “I’m the best, darlin’. Don’t forget that when you visit the private stable.” He had a conspiratorial look on his face before returning to the melee. The herd of horses had branched off in several directions, the cowboys splitting up in pursuit. She wondered what private stable he spoke of, but she didn’t have long to consider it, because her horse suddenly darted off again as two stray horses passed by. Rachel gave up and decided to just enjoy herself, let the horse carry her where it may. If Ethan had to come out and find her with the hound dogs, so what? Her fears were back in the little apartment with the volatile man who could never harm her again. She was now Rachel the fearless, or at least strived to be.

  After a while she began to gain a semblance of control over the horse. A hard pull to the left or right would steer it in the intended direction. She hadn’t mastered stopping, and the horse never seemed to tire. Rachel wasn’t sure how much time passed, too caught up in the whirlwind of action.

  “How you holding up? Sore yet?” Ethan’s voice came from just behind her. When she turned her head, she noted the two horses he towed.

  “I’m fine. Never better,” she said honestly. Rachel was starting to think that maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe she could learn to love herself again.

  “I bet you won’t say the same thing tonight.” He smiled as if he knew a secret. Ethan clicked his tongue which got her traitorous horse to follow him obediently.

  “Hey, how’d you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Get her to listen to you so easily.”

  “You’re the horse handler. You tell me.” He winked, and she bit her lip to keep from talking. Keeping silent would likely get her into less trouble.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time they neared the ranch, it was dinner hour. Her stomach protested as the scent of fresh bread carried on the breeze. Rachel was just starting to experience the discomfort Ethan warned about,
her butt and inner thighs aching from the long day of riding. It had been a day to remember though, full of laughter and new memories.

  “You know, I’ve never met a handler not raised in the saddle.” Jesse’s eyes were narrowed, the setting sun highlighted in his pupils.

  “I prefer to keep my feet on the ground.”

  “She’s got a comeback for everything, ain’t she?” asked Trevor. “That’s just asking for trouble around here.”

  She picked up on the sexual innuendo right away. There was something about the look in his eyes that promised hours of depraved pleasure. She was curious about everything she’d missed over the years…and that private stable she kept hearing about. Trevor and Jesse both chuckled until Ethan’s horse came up the center, scattering the other two men. He finally settled right next to her, their horses walking side by side. “Ignore them. They aren’t used to nice girls. And I doubt they’ve ever been taught how to treat a lady.”

  “They think I’m something else?”

  “Let’s just say the women who usually come here are looking for fun and excitement, and not the chaste kind. I suppose you’ll have to earn the men’s respect. Or I’ll have to demand they give it to you. Either way, you have nothing to worry about while working here,” said Ethan. He seemed to have more authority than the other two men, and she wondered if it had something to do with being friends with one of the foremen. She felt guilty because she wasn’t as chaste as he believed, at least not on the inside.

  From what she’d seen of the Iron Spur Ranch so far, Rachel didn’t doubt women would pay top dollar for riding lessons when the entire staff appeared to be drop-dead gorgeous. Everywhere she looked there were shirtless cowboys, sweaty and dirty. Others were on horseback or passing by in company pickup trucks. It was a regular smorgasbord for repressed women far and wide. And she wasn’t immune herself. Last night she’d lost herself to the affections of two skilled lovers, her strict inhibitions fading faster than an ice cube on a scorching day. Today she was trying her best to think with her head rather than her hormones. It wasn’t easy when Ethan’s proficiency in the saddle seemed to arouse her like an aphrodisiac. Watching him wrangle the horses and direct her mare with a single command was impressive. She felt confident when he was near, safe and secure.

  Even in the most trying of situations, he never exploded the way Jason would. At one point his arm was nearly yanked out of joint when his lasso got tangled, one of his catches proved especially feisty, and to top it off he had to babysit her—yet he kept calm and collected, only throwing out the occasional cuss. The one time he noticed she was in earshot, he apologized profusely for his foul mouth, making her feel special for just being a woman. It felt nice.

  “How’d it go?” asked Wyatt as they entered the corral with the six new horses. He was leaning against the split-rail fence, a coil of rope in hand. It reminded her of how he’d tied her up last night. She swallowed hard, hoping he couldn’t sense her desire.

  “These are the best,” said Ethan, nodding to their acquisitions. “And Ms. Price is a natural in the fields.”

  She shook her head. “That’s definitely too kind.”

  The men shared a glance. Wyatt smiled, sauntering toward her. He grabbed her reins and reached up a hand. She gladly took it as he helped her dismount the horse. Rachel was wary of their old-fashioned manners, expecting a bombshell any moment. The Iron Spur Ranch was like a world of its own. She always expected the worst because she’d never seen much good come from the men she knew. Her father had been a deadbeat, and she’d unwittingly carried on that tradition by involving herself with a man who thrived on bringing her down. But maybe all men weren’t as bad as Jason. Maybe some were actually worth the effort.

  It had been hours since she’d been on her two feet, and she nearly collapsed to the ground once off the horse. The world slightly spun around. Wyatt had to move fast to support her weight. Despite her extra pounds, he effortlessly held her up, maybe holding her a little closer than necessary.

  “I warned her she’d be sore. She didn’t listen.” Ethan chuckled as he untied the two black Arabians from his saddle.

  “It takes some getting used to,” said Wyatt. “But don’t you worry. We have a trick or two to treat saddle soreness. If you can make it through dinner, we’ll take care of you.” He didn’t even blink, staring at her with a heated intensity. The moment seemed to last forever.

  Take care of me? Like actually go through with what they started last night? Or just toss her a Tylenol? The suspense was killing her and making her body uncomfortably hot.

  As they neared the house, Damien Holt stepped out of the side door. He was wearing all black, his face stoic. Her blood flash froze like a teenager caught cheating by the principal. If anyone knew the real her, it would be him.

  “How’s the new trainee coming along?” he asked.

  Wyatt laid a possessive hand at the small of her back. The simple touch registered strong within her. As much as she wanted to be free, she also wanted to be owned. “She’ll be an asset, no doubt.”

  “Good to hear. I’d hate for any of my staff to disappoint.” Damien sounded skeptical, or maybe she was being too paranoid. She felt like he could see straight through her, easily identifying all her deceit. Starting her new job with lies wasn’t the ideal situation, but it was the only way to get her foot past those iron gates. If it hadn’t been for the employment ad, she may never have had the nerve to finally go through with leaving Jason. The thought of checking into a shelter or calling her mother was something she desperately wanted to avoid if possible. She was determined to succeed on her own.

  Damien strode away, heading for the far paddock where some horses were grazing. For a man with so much wealth and power, there was an unsettled air surrounding him. It made her uneasy.

  The men shuffled her past the threshold of the house and ushered her to the kitchen. It was a beacon, luring them by the rich scents of bread, meat, sauces, and roasted bell peppers. Her mouth salivated. All she’d had was some jerky and dried apricots Ethan offered her from his saddlebags earlier. Rachel mentally scolded herself. Was she obsessing over food again, craving to use it for comfort in such uncertain times, or was she actually starved? She had to start fresh in every regard. Eating to ease her pain had to end, but she had to admit that she hadn’t even thought of food since arriving.

  “This is where we eat most of our meals,” said Ethan, joining them. It was a large room with bench-style seating. The tables were solid oak, dinged with age. There must have been over a dozen men reaching for platters or serving bowls, laughing and talking as they settled in for a meal.

  “When we’re not stuck out on the fields,” added Wyatt. He led her to a far table with only two other cowboys. They all sat down. It was awkward sitting on the bench, and as she struggled to get her legs tucked in, she noticed there were numerous eyes on her. Her face heated. Rachel was used to living an isolated life, not being the center of attention. When she finally hooked her leg around so she could sit properly, she was counting her blessings the spectacle was over.

  “You’re turning pink again, darlin’. There a reason for it?” asked Wyatt.

  “Sorry. I’m not exactly graceful. I’ll try not to make a fool of myself next time.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She swallowed hard. “Your friends…the other men. I’m pretty sure they’re having a good laugh at me about now.” Rachel was good at deciphering if people were talking about her. Being overweight, she was used to cold stares, shakes of the head, or being the butt of cruel jokes. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t fit well into regular clothes. Her body was disproportionate, her chest and hips overpowering her figure. Of course, if she managed to keep on a diet or exercise regimen, she’d probably have some positive success. But without motivation, she was doomed to continue the destructive cycle.

  “They’re just jealous,” said Ethan, leaning over the opposite side of the table. He grabbed a roll and tore it a
part with his hands. “They know we’ve already laid claim to you.”

  “Ethan,” Wyatt warned, forcing the other man to sit back in his seat.

  “It’s true,” said Ethan, rolling up his sleeves. “And I for one think it’s best. Otherwise, every available ranch hand would be following her trail.”

  Rachel shook her head. “You’ve got it all wrong. Men don’t look at women like me. I’ll be able to get my job done without distracting the staff.”

  Wyatt was sitting beside her. He frowned and tilted her chin in his direction. “Not very bright when it comes to men, are you, sugar?”

  Her chest heaved. Even the loud drone of conversation in the room had tapered down to a few voices. She hated being on public display. But she also loved Wyatt’s take-charge attitude.

  “They’re looking at you because they’ve never seen a finer woman. Each one wishes you were at his table, spending the night in his trailer. And I can promise you that given the chance, any man in this room would give his right arm for a chance to fuck you.”

  “Wyatt!” Ethan scolded in a harsh whisper.

  “It’s the God-honest truth.” He let go of her chin and reached for a serving spoon in a large ceramic bowl of mashed potatoes. She was too in shock to move, speak, or eat. How could he carry on as normal after a bombshell like that? She should probably be offended by his brazen mouth, but his dirty talk registered like foreplay, making her body heat, only adding to the flush on her face.

  * * * *

  Wyatt may not have been ready to commit to a woman, but he didn’t like the idea of sharing his prize. And he considered Rachel his for whatever reason. On occasion he’d indulge in the private stable, sating his base desires, but not caring about the women he played with. If another cowboy joined in or took over when he was through, he rarely thought twice about it. But for some reason he wanted to keep Rachel to himself for a while longer. Maybe once he bored of her he’d stop feeling the possessive heat bear down on him like a brand whenever one of the crew sized her up.