Riding Red

by Nadia Aidan

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Riding Red

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-953-3

  ©Copyright Nadia Aidan 2012

  Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright April 2012

  Edited by Stacey Birkel

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 97 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 8 pages.

  Downing Brothers

  RIDING RED

  Nadia Aidan

  Stuck in close quarters with the two wickedest, wildest Downing brothers of them all, Teresa West had better prepare herself for the most sensually erotic experience of her life…

  Ever since her best friend married one of the infamous Downing brothers, Teresa West cannot seem to shake aggravating playboy, Jeff Downing—the third eldest and undoubtedly the wickedest and wildest of all the brothers. Just because his brother now lives on the neighbouring ranch with her best friend, doesn’t mean Jeff Downing has any business being in Hockley, Texas so often. He’s been in hot pursuit for a year now, and Teresa is starting to think Jeff either doesn’t have a job, or he really needs a hobby—one that doesn’t include her.

  Jeff Downing would argue that no matter his job or hobby, his only purpose right now is to convince the fiery, stubborn redhead to let loose and live a little. His first order of business? To get Teresa West into his bed and keep her there, but she’s not being as cooperative as he’d hoped. Actually, she’s not being cooperative at all. She’s spent a year ducking and dodging his advances. It’s time for some drastic measures…which is why he’s decided to enlist some help.

  When a hurricane rips through the small town, Teresa has no choice but to seek shelter at Cottonmouth Ranch with the two youngest Downing brothers. She knows she will have to fend off Jeff’s advances…but she never expected to have to battle her attraction to his brother, Jason, as well. Stuck in close quarters with the two Downing brothers, Teresa had better prepare herself for the most sensually erotic experience of her life.

  Jeff Downing has pulled out all the stops and he won’t be satisfied until he has Teresa West in his bed…where he plans to ride the red-haired vixen all night long. And once Jeff finally claims Teresa, he has no intention of letting her go…if he can convince her that she can trust him with her heart.

  Dedication

  To my dear friend Menna, for being my inspiration to always aspire to greatness.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Ford Mustang: Ford Motor Company

  Armani: Giorgio Armani

  Stetson Hats: Pro Equine Group

  PBR: Professional Bull Riders, Inc.

  Chapter One

  Hard, hot, heart-pounding sex.

  Those were the first, and sometimes only, words that came to mind when Teresa thought of Jeff Downing—an impressive six-foot-four package of hard, hot solid muscle who inspired every wicked, sensuous fantasy she could imagine. And when it came to Jeff Downing, she imagined many. Simply put, he made her wonder about, long for, crave a hard, hot, heart-pounding endless night of dirty, sweaty sex.

  Teresa grimaced at her body’s wanton reaction. Just thinking about the arrogant, obnoxious, jerk of a man made her body tingle, so no surprise that it was even worse when he was there in the flesh. Every time he came to visit, which nowadays was quite frequently, she experienced a shameful yearning for a man she loathed, a man she swore she couldn’t stand. Yeah right. She snorted. If she loathed him so much then why was it just the faint sound of his car powering down the road had her pussy throbbing with anticipation? Why had her nipples budded tight the moment she’d recognised that all too familiar and quite distinctive mechanical purr in the distance?

  As the vehicle drew closer, the dim hum soon gave way to the pulsing, pounding roar of a V8 engine, and even before the car rolled into her best friend’s driveway, Teresa West knew it was Jeff Downing.

  Sleek, black and silver, trimmed in chrome, Jeff’s late model Ford Mustang was every bit as brazen and bold as its owner. With narrowed eyes, she watched it crawl along the dirt road until finally it came to a halt before her.

  Squinting against the bright glare of the afternoon sun, her next breath dragged slowly through her chest when the driver-side door swung open. Steel toe leather boots—expensive boots, Armani boots—hit the ground first. Who wears Armani to a ranch? Teresa shook her head, because she knew exactly who would do such a thing, and to her annoyance she had to admire his grit, because he was the only man who could get away with it, and he knew it.

  Without a doubt, Jeff Downing was a one of a kind—authentic and original. And as he unfolded his densely muscled frame from the car to flash a wicked grin her way, Teresa could only glare back, because it was obvious to all that Jeff Downing indeed believed he was without equal. And while she would never, ever admit it to him, she had to begrudgingly concede…he was right.

  Hidden behind black aviator shades were the striking ocean blue eyes, so clear that every time she looked into them, she could feel the waves cresting within her belly. As if he could hear her thoughts, he removed his glasses, and a shudder trembled through her as he snared her with those mesmerising eyes.

  He marched towards her on those long, powerful legs of his, blocking out the sun which now beat against his wide back. Her breathing grew harsh as burnished amber rays caressed sun-bronzed skin, bringing highlights to his coal black hair.

  He was breathtaking, he was a sinful, erotic temptation—

  The slamming of the car door captured her attention and she glanced up just as another man—equally handsome and sensual, although not as darkly provocative as his older brother—climbed out of the car.

  Jason Downing.

  The youngest of the four Downing brothers.

  Although, they all favoured one another, his resemblance to Jeff was so similar they were often mistaken for twins.

  But twins they definitely were not. And her body was well aware of this.

  While more practically dressed, Jason Downing exuded an alluring, enticing air of sexual confidence in faded jeans and a casual black button-down shirt that was open at the collar. He smiled at the same time he removed his sunglasses, and while she appreciated the handsome, charming man before her, she was all too cognisant of the fact that her belly didn’t twist and churn when he flashed that dimpled grin, and her knees didn’t shake in response.

  Her stupid body only seemed to react so…stupidly to Jeff Downing and in such ina
ppropriate, appalling ways—the knowledge of which irritated her to no end, causing her to lash out at its source the moment he came to a halt before her.

  “I actually thought BJ was exaggerating, but I’m starting to believe you really don’t have a job.”

  Much to her annoyance, Jeff’s sensual lips curled higher into that classic, crooked grin that made him appear as if he had not a care in the world, and always sent a tremor racing down her back.

  “No need to get all fussy, Red. ‘Cause, if you missed me, darlin’, all you had to do was just say so and I would have been here sooner.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” she fumed, even as her belly fluttered from the sound of his deep, Southern drawl washing over her. “My hair is red, my name is Teresa, so use it. And I hate to shatter that big ego of yours but no one around here misses you, not when you’re here damn near every other week.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I have interests to protect.” And Teresa knew exactly what he meant by ‘interests’, but even if she would have been slow that day, the wolfish grin that spread across his face was telling. Even more so was the slow slide of his gaze along her body, which lingered for far too long on her rounded breasts.

  Teresa seethed in silence, as she began carefully sifting through all the cuss words she wanted to introduce him to, but before she could get the first one off, Jason brushed past his brother towards her.

  “Knock it off, bro,” Jason said as he pulled her into his arms to envelop her in a warm hug, the solid wall of his chest pressing against her softer body. As usual, Jason’s touch didn’t set off a scorching fire inside of her, and she also noted, as she had other times before, that his arms around her were noticeably tight, holding her closer than was really necessary, and he lingered there for some time. She was convinced the only reason why he even pulled away when he did was because Jeff emitted a sharp, predatory sound that Teresa could only describe as a growl.

  Withdrawing his arms from around her, Jason glanced at Jeff from over his shoulder, and winked with a fleeting smirk.

  “Good to see you, Teresa,” he said, after returning his gaze to her.

  “You too.” She smiled warmly. “So how you been? Unlike your brother here, you don’t come around often enough.”

  His grin was sheepish. “You sound like BJ right now. She rags on me that I haven’t been out to visit since the wedding, but she exaggerates. It’s been a few months, but not that long.”

  “Well you know BJ and how important family is to her. I know she misses you—Jackson, too.”

  “Speaking of which, where are my brother and the Mrs?”

  As he spoke, he trailed his gaze the length of her body, his brow lifting upon finally noticing her worn T-shirt and faded, dusty jeans.

  “And what are you doing over here planting”—he glanced curiously over her shoulder at the multi-colour array of flowers springing out of several boxes—“mums?”

  “Close. Dahlias. It’s my anniversary gift to BJ and Jackson so that when they get back from their vacation they’ll come home to a new front yard, because Lord knows BJ has never been one for decorating.”

  Jason chuckled. “Yeah, I just can’t picture that one taking up gardening anytime soon.”

  “More like in this lifetime,” agreed Teresa with a small smile. “As for their whereabouts, last time I checked they were both at the stables making sure everything is in order before they leave tomorrow.”

  “All right then.” Jason nodded. “I’ll just head out there and see if they need any help.” He bounded off the porch and took a few steps before he noticed Jeff wasn’t following after him. “Aren’t you gonna join me?”

  Jeff shook his head, but his gaze never strayed from Teresa. “No, I’m good right here. I’ll just help Red finish up—”

  “That’s really not necessary,” she quickly interjected, but before she could even finish, Jason was already headed in the direction of the clearing where the horses were stabled.

  As soon as he disappeared from sight, she fixed Jeff with a cross look. “You should have gone with your brother,” she grumbled at the same time she stooped back down to continue digging through the flower bed. “We both know you’re just going to aggravate me, which will only slow me down. Besides, how much help could you possibly be?” She raked him with a derisive stare. “I know you don’t want to get those designer duds dirty.”

  “What do you know about getting down and dirty, Teresa West?” Jeff teased, his deep voice now low and husky, as he dropped down on his haunches beside her. “You’d be surprised just how dirty I can get.”

  Teresa didn’t imagine the darkly sensual air thickening around them. His provocative words whispered through her with a subtle tremor, but it was his nearness, the heat of his body drifting off him to singe her, which sparked tiny fires of raw, hot desire in the centre of her belly.

  “Don’t start this again,” she told him when she finally managed to locate her voice.

  He didn’t immediately reply as he stood for just a moment to lazily peel off his suit jacket and set it down on the front porch. It wasn’t until he began rolling up his sleeves that he questioned, “Don’t start what?”

  She knew he spoke—she even heard his voice—but Teresa could barely discern the words tumbling from his lips with the blood pounding in her ears as she followed every shifting muscle straining beneath his crisp white dress shirt. Her heart hammered harder in her chest when he returned to her side.

  “Don’t start what, Teresa?” he asked again and she shook her head in an effort to take hold of herself.

  “Don’t start this,” she complained, gesturing between the two of them. “The flirty comments, the sexual innuendos… You’ve been doing this since the wedding and it’s getting old. Don’t you think you should call it quits? It’s been a year already.”

  One eyebrow arched. “Call it quits?” He reached for the trowel by her side, deliberately grazing his fingers across her thigh as he did.

  She sucked in a breath, then forced it down. She widened her eyes before she realised that every single movement, every response, Jeff noticed. She purposely hardened her expression and wrenched her gaze away from him as she returned to her task of raking back dirt.

  “I will never call it quits, Red, not when it comes to you.”

  Her spine stiffened, as every word of his declaration scorched through her, hot and carnal. “Well, I think you should. Every time you come here it’s always the same—I’m not interested, never have been, never will be.”

  “Liar. You want me, you just hate that you do.”

  Jeff’s crooked, self-satisfied grin infuriated her. He thought he knew her so well—he thought he needed only to wear her down, and eventually she would crumble. Teresa’s anger ratcheted a notch higher out of frustration, because the problem was he did know her well, and with every visit, she was crumbling. She would never admit it, and she would never go willingly, but Jeff Downing was slowly, steadily, getting under her skin, and he knew it.

  “When will you get it through that big, thick head of yours? There is one woman on this planet who doesn’t want you, and you’re looking at her.”

  Jeff fought to suppress a grin as Teresa levelled him with golden-green eyes and pointed her trowel at his chest.

  “I know you and Jason are here to run Cottonmouth while BJ and Jackson are on vacation, and there is nothing I can do but wait this week out, but let’s get one thing straight—I am not here for your personal amusement. I have work to do and I want you to let me be and leave me alone while you’re here so that I can do it. Understood?”

  The grin that had threatened to spread across his face could no longer be denied as he studied the feisty, fiery woman before him.

  Teresa Mae West—Red… His Red.

  She hated the nickname, but it suited her. She claimed to hate him, too, but Jeff had no doubt he would suit her as well.

  With abundant curves and toffee-cream
skin, she was a striking, exquisite beauty with a feisty mouth to match her riotous mane of burnished auburn curls.

  From the moment he’d met her, he’d wanted her, and for a year she’d denied him. Just the thought had his cock swelling within the confines of his pants, so hard it could pound nails. She believed he was a playboy, and until he’d met her, maybe that had been true. But sleeping with another woman now? The idea alone instantly deflated his erection.

  Just recalling the last time he’d even tried to get laid made him want to grimace. In a word, the experience had been dismal. So after that, he’d stopped pursuing other women altogether. He certainly wasn’t sleeping with any. It was just pointless, since he didn’t want anyone but her. Which wouldn’t be a problem except she still claimed she didn’t want him.

  For almost a year now, he’d been confined to an involuntary hell of celibacy because this one stubborn woman refused to admit she wanted him in return, and it would seem his cock would not be satisfied with anyone else.

  Every sleepless night he spent with blue balls—and there were many—he cursed his body’s unswerving fidelity to Teresa West, though even he couldn’t blame it. Lush breasts strained against her shirt as her jeans rode low on her hips. Her figure was voluptuous—full and soft, and rounded in all the right places. Feminine though she was, Teresa was certainly no slip of a woman. If she stood, the top of her head would come to his chin. And if he managed to get her flat on her back, her abundant breasts would pillow his chest, while her beautiful, thick thighs would cushion the hard, pounding ride he was determined to give her.

  Riding Red.

  That was all he thought about these days—fucking her, pounding her, getting inside her tight, wet cunt and staying there all night…for several nights. Jeff could think of little else, especially in the last few days leading up to this trip. Teresa may be on some strict, misguided hands-off policy, but Jeff was there to bed the beautiful, ballsy woman before him, and when he did, he definitely planned to ride her all night.