Cowboy Rough: A Steamy, Contemporary Romance Novella (Colorado Cowboys Book 1)

by Harper Young

  “No, Sloane is not the bull you tried, and failed, to steal. Sloane is the kind, caring, spirited woman who you . . . you pinned on the ground, who you tried to strip naked on that dirty forest floor, who will probably have nightmares about your slimy fingers all over her.”

  Still dazed and probably drunk, the man laughs. “You feel that way ‘bout a damn cow?”

  I crouch down, my fingers snaking around the collar of his shirt. “You son of a bitch, I’ll give you something to laugh about!” I snarl as the stable door opens again.

  “Cord, leave him,” Dane says gently. “I know you want to murder him. Believe me, I do too, but the sheriff is here, and he expects both these asses alive.”

  My body shakes, and the thought of leaving this building without bloodying the asshole’s face is almost inconceivable. He deserves so much worse than a good beating. They both do.

  “Sloane is waiting,” Dane continues. “She needs you. Let me and the sheriff deal with this.”

  Sloane.

  Swallowing, I drop the bald man’s collar, and he presses himself tight against the pole, avoiding my eyes.

  Dane’s right. I have to get back to Sloane’s side.

  She needs me, and I need her.

  There’s no more time to be tentative about how I feel about her, about how badly I want her to stay with me.

  I can’t wait any longer to make her mine, to claim her as my own.

  16

  Sloane

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Gentry,” Monty DuBois says gently, sighing as he sticks his small notepad in back pocket. “I think this’ll be a cut and dry case. I hope it’ll help matters that we’ll be taking those boys right to jail.”

  Uncle Daniel claps the sheriff’s shoulder and begins guiding him from the dining room, sharing a look with Cord as he quietly enters the door.

  “They’re in the stable,” Cord announces, stepping to the side to allow the other two to pass. “If you don’t mind, Monty, I’ll come into the station tomorrow to give my statement. It’s been a real long night.”

  I know Cord well enough to know that he’s biting back some choice words for the sheriff regarding his family’s innocence in the matter and the accusations that have been flying around. When the sheriff nods in agreement, Cord turns back to me, his eyes so fiery and raw that my stomach twists up inside of me. I have no idea what’s going on in his head, but it’s something intense.

  Steam curling around his face, Jameson looks on curiously from over the top of his coffee mug.

  “Come with me,” Cord whispers hoarsely. “Sloane, come to my cabin.”

  He outstretches one of his tan, calloused hands. The same hand that’s seen so much hard work and so much struggle and so much pain in just twenty-six years.

  Setting my own mug aside, I stand slowly and slide my palm against his, memorizing the feel of his hand under my own. It feels different every time that he touches me, depending on how much and what kind of work he’s done that day, but each time is equally lovely. It’s like his warm hold reaches deeper than just my fingers; it’s like he reaches my heart.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask once we’re alone and walking across the yard.

  “Every—everything is fine,” he mumbles clumsily. “I hope.”

  We reach his front porch, where the flood light turns on at our approach. I stop right before the steps, tugging the rugged man to a halt beside me.

  “Cord, tell me what you’re thinking,” I say. “Please.”

  He clears his throat, running a nervous hand through his hair.

  I bite my lip, one arm slowly wrapping around myself in a slow hug. “Is it . . . Do you look at me differently now . . . because of what that man—”

  “God, Sloane, no!” he cries instantly, whirling around, pressing his palms to my cheeks and lowering his forehead to my own so that his breath washes across my face. “No, no, no. Nothing like that.”

  “Then what, Cord?” I whisper, fighting the tears welling up. “What’s going on? I can tell something is on your mind, and I just don’t know what it could be!”

  His warm and sweet breath continues to breeze over my face.

  “Sloane . . .” he murmurs, eyes closing then opening again as he gazes so intensely at me that I feel like he can see all the way down inside of my soul. “Dammit, I’ve never said this to anyone before, and I just . . . Sloane, I love you. I love every damn inch of you. I love everything about you. The way that you’re so recklessly stubborn, heartily tender. How could anyone not?”

  “I don’t care if anyone loves me,” I whisper back in a daze, blinking my eyes hard once then twice, expecting myself to wake up from this beautiful dream.

  Is this really happening?

  “I don’t care if anyone loves me,” I repeat clumsily when my alarm doesn’t go off, and I don’t wake up, and Cord’s beautiful green eyes don’t melt away like a phantom’s. “I only care if you love me, Cord, because I love you. I’ve been trying so hard not to say it.”

  Laughter bubbles up inside of me, a delirious giggle of pure happiness that I almost don’t even recognize.

  He sweeps me up into his arms, mouth capturing my own, his eager tongue sweeping over my lower lip as I all too gladly welcome him in.

  “Sloane, while we’re talking crazy . . . there’s been this one other thing that I’ve wanted to say to you—”

  “You hate that Crumpet loves me so much?” I tease, nuzzling my nose against his, refusing to let any inch of space come between us. “Miranda told me Crumpet usually gives new riders trouble.”

  Cord laughs a hearty, deep, rumbling laugh that makes my heart throb with joy and love.

  “Yes, that, but . . . Sloane, I want you to think about staying here past the summer. With me. And Crumpet. I know you’re a busy woman, you’ve got a life to get back to, but you’ve become such a part of our family here that to think of you leaving . . . it just damn near breaks my heart.”

  “Yes,” I say simply, and it’s possibly the easiest decision I have ever made. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I would love to stay here, Cord. This ranch . . . it feels like it’s the place that I’m supposed to be. Today, tomorrow, next year . . . I never want to go anywhere else.”

  In one easy movement, Cord slips his arms around me and scoops me up against his chest. I let out a startled giggle, my arms tangling around his sturdy neck.

  He strides forward to the door of his cabin, kicking it open and collapsing on the bed with me still in his arms.

  His mouth takes mine, our bodies twisting and writhing against one another, arms and legs tangling tight. Our clothes practically dissolve between one another as they’re dragged free of our desperate bodies, our mouths never parting for longer than we need to rip shirts over his head or mine. There’s the sound of fabric ripping as Cord pulls off my panties, but neither one of us pays it any mind.

  He slips one hand behind my back, arching my naked chest to his as his fingers glide over me, reveling in the curves of my body.

  His tongue sweeps against mine, sweet and rich as chocolate.

  Kissing him makes my head hazy and warm. He makes my body feel electric, like I’m a cloud filled with lightning and nothing can relieve me but the sensation of him filling me completely.

  Just when I think I’m going to have to beg him to enter me, I feel the swollen, throbbing head of his cock press greedily against my folds. I twist, rocking my hips up toward his as he chuckles against my mouth.

  Finally, he thrusts himself deep into me, so wonderfully gentle and complete that it makes my entire body spasm with ecstasy.

  “I love you, Sloane,” he growls against my lips, our bodies rolling over his mattress, the sheets coiling around us like a snake. “God, I love you so much, I’ve been waiting so long to say that to you . . .”

  I inhale his words, deepening the kiss as we rock tighter, our fingers interlacing.

  “I love you, Cord,” I whisper back, my voice pitching with pleasure from his thrusts. />
  Cord buries himself inside of me in one final, hard thrust, a moan of raw bliss vibrating against my lips as my own explosion of pleasure rocks through me. We move lazily still, quivering with the aftershocks of our ecstasy.

  He peppers my face with tired, tender kisses as I bask in the affection.

  This is truly where I’m meant to be: wrapped up in the arms of the one I love so deeply.

  Epilogue

  Cord

  Piotr spins in a circle, his head tilting back with his tongue hanging out as the first snow of winter coats the pastures a shimmery white.

  Behind the fence, Dane ducks down and forms a snowball, his eyes narrowing dangerously on Tucker, who is possibly the only ranch hand working right now. Before Dane can let loose his icy weapon, however, Jameson hurls his own snowball right at the back of his head, sending white shards dusting over my best friend’s head.

  They all laugh, passing around the thermos of hot chocolate and whiskey. It’s hard to focus on work when the snow is falling in picturesque flakes that make you want to lay down in the fresh white powder and make snow angels.

  “You good, man?” Dane asks lightly, closing his eyes as the warm, boozy drink glides down his throat. “You’ve been awful quiet today.”

  “Thinking about your lovely lady?” Piotr waggles his eyebrows.

  I laugh, shoving my hands in my pockets as we turn toward the stable. Sloane is in there somewhere, feeding the horses and making sure that they’ll be warm enough for the night. Sloane’s easily one of the best workers we’ve ever had on the horses. They love her more than any other ranch hand here. Months ago, when I first met her, I couldn’t have imagined the small, spunky girl would become the fearless ranch hand she is now.

  Has it really been six months since I asked her to stay?

  The days pass so quickly with her at my side. Her quick grin and sharp tongue lighten every day. After Miranda’s husband convinced our old cook to finally retire to Florida, Sloane’s bright face didn’t allow anyone to be sad for too long, and she even took the helm at hiring someone new.

  Even Daniel recognizes Sloane and me as a couple now, though I’d been worried that the cantankerous foreman would be slow to accept it.

  Daniel meets my eyes as he takes the thermos from Tucker, tilting his head back to drink in his own share of the liquid.

  “New Miranda is good.” Piotr nods contentedly, patting his stomach. “Sloane picked a good one. This hot chocolate is marvelous.”

  “Is marvelous your word of the day?” Tucker asks glibly, arching a playful eyebrow.

  Impervious to the teasing, Piotr nods. Miranda’s farewell gift to him was a calendar with various English phrases on it. At least he’ll expand his vocabulary past “wedgie” now.

  “Don’t let the cook hear you call her the new Miranda.” Tucker sighs with a frown. “She doesn’t like that. Take my word for it.”

  The men laugh again as Daniel straightens, turning back to me with a slight jerk of his chin.

  “It looks like Sloane’s finished with the horses,” he says simply, clearing his throat.

  The ranch hands fall quiet as Daniel shifts from one awkward foot to the other. Suddenly, everyone’s looking back at me with silent questions on their faces. Has Daniel shared what I’m about to do?

  With a simple nod, I reach forward and swipe the hot chocolate thermos, taking a long gulp of my own before passing it back to Daniel. He grins, patting my shoulder and leaning back on the fence as I turn and march through the fresh snowfall.

  The house, barns, and cabins are all coated in that gleaming, beautiful white of snow. It’s perfect, though there is only one thing on my mind that can make this gorgeous day even better.

  I inhale deeply as I approach the wooden doors, the singsong melody of Sloane’s sweet voice drifting from inside.

  Finally, digging my hands back into my pockets, I step inside.

  “Still talking to the horses?” I tease, leaning back against the wooden wall.

  It’s warm in here, and the horses all look comfortable while stealing sugar cubes from Sloane’s pale hand. I lean back and drink in the look of her, from jeans so tight they could be painted on her perfect body to the oversized, warm jacket she borrowed from my closet without asking. I haven’t told her how much I love it when she does that. The clothes she borrows smell of her for a week.

  “You know you talk to them too.” She grins, kissing Crumpet’s nose before turning to me.

  A tender smile crosses her mouth, her cheeks rosy from the chill in the air and the affection I can see so clearly in her eyes. The affection that is only for me.

  “This is where we first met,” I say lightly. “Remember?”

  “How could I forget? You were such a jerk.” She sidles closer with a laugh, trying to lean into my chest, though I gently take her hands in my own and stand her upright.

  Her wide, sweet grin twitches down into a frown as her head tilts. “Is something wrong?”

  I shake my head, my heart beating so fast against my ribs that I can barely concentrate on what Sloane is saying.

  “No,” I whisper, slowly dropping down to one knee. “Sloane, everything is even more marvelous then I could ever imagine.” I choke on my words, internally thanking Piotr for that one as her eyes grow wide as saucers.

  My hand slips into my pocket to drag out a modest ring box. While it’s no thirty-thousand-dollar seven-carat diamond, I’ve been saving as much as I can every single month to get her the ring she deserves.

  “Oh my god, Cord,” she breathes excitedly, not even looking at the ring box as I pop it open, her eyes only locked on me. “What are you doing, you crazy cowboy?”

  “Marry me, Sloane.” I grin, so nervous that I almost drop the box. “I only want you. Forever. You’re the only thing in my life that has ever made sense, and I never want to let you go. I love you—”

  She doesn’t let me finish. Instead, she sinks down to her knees and throws her arms around my neck as her mouth crashes against mine so roughly that we tumble backward. We laugh as we kiss deeply and cling to one another.

  “Yes!” she screams in delight.

  Cheers erupt from the front of the stable. Daniel, Piotr, Tucker, and Dane look on from the open door. Sloane’s uncle turns away slightly, dabbing at his eyes.

  “It’s about damn time!” Dane hollers, clapping loudly.

  Sloane finally remembers the ring, gazing at it in wonder as I slip it on her finger. She turns back to me, and I kiss her again.

  As we look into each other’s eyes, I think about that night she had a feeling that made her come after me and help apprehend the cattle thieves. I think about the feeling that made her come to this ranch. And I think about what brought us together: a thing larger than a simple feeling. A knowing. A sense that couldn’t be denied. A power that’s so big I’ll probably never be able to put a name to it.

  Whatever it is, it moves everything good in the world. To be a part of it, all I have to do is close my eyes and let go.

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  About the Author

  Harper Young writes what she loves to read: romances with sexy, daring men who get the job done and heroines who go for what they want. When not writing, she is thinking about writing and trying to stop at two cups of coffee.

 

 

 
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