by Zoey Marcel
The men came in from outside and dispersed to different bathrooms to wash their hands for dinner.
A tall Latino man, who appeared to be somewhere in his early forties like Hunter, came into the kitchen. This man had to be six foot two or somewhere around there. His dark brown eyes were intense and sensual as they swept over her. He had jet-black hair and beautiful copper skin that overlaid what looked like a strong, medium build structure.
“Are you Diego?” she asked.
“I am. You must be Melanie.”
His suave Spanish accent was as alluring and sensuous as his dark eyes. If sex were a sound it would most likely be that seductive voice.
“Yes. It’s good to meet you.”
He took her hand when she extended it and then he kissed the top of hers like a gentleman would a maiden in a bygone era. His satiny smooth lips sent a ripple of warmth into her skin and up her arm. The blood just beneath the flesh he kissed felt hotter once his lips retreated.
“It’s good to meet you as well, Melanie. What are you making?”
She turned away quickly, trying not to blush or seem supremely attracted to him. “It’s John Wayne casserole, a salad, and blueberry muffins.”
“What is John Wayne casserole?”
“It’s kind of something I made up, a mistake actually, but it’s good. I promise. It’s when you set out to make pea casserole and then you realize you don’t have any peas, so you just make the casserole with the rest of the ingredients,” she explained. “It’s ground beef mixed with gravy and seasonings and then there’s a layer of mashed potatoes over it kind of like a creamy, squishy crust with a slight crunch on top.”
Diego smiled. “And you named it after John Wayne?”
Melanie had to avert her eyes to keep her stomach from doing happy somersaults over such a hypnotic gaze and mesmerizing smile. “Yeah, I like cowboys. Plus I read somewhere that John Wayne was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”
Diego’s sexy smile broadened. “Clever.”
“Thanks.” She swallowed and fiddled with some potholders to distract herself. “The salad is so you guys don’t die of scurvy.”
Oh lord, why the hell didn’t she just stop talking?
He grinned, showing the whiteness of his teeth that appeared even more pristine when offset by the darker shade of his skin. “Are you worried about that?”
“Well, I read about scurvy before when I was studying about pioneers and stuff. It doesn’t sound pleasant at all. I thought I’d spare you guys by feeding you salad.” She grimaced, listening to herself like an audio version of a train wreck she couldn’t pry herself away from. “I suppose the blueberries would help prevent that, too.”
Diego looked amused. “I’m sure it will be delicious, and I appreciate the courtesy.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Something passed through his eyes, but she couldn’t tell what it was. “Diego will be fine for now.”
“Okay. Diego, dinner is ready.”
“Sounds good. You even set the table nicely.”
“Yeah.”
Hunter and Emmett walked in just then.
Diego gestured toward the dining room table. “Look what she did.”
The men studied the white floral tablecloth, pine-green cloth napkins, crystal dishes, silverware, and the Blue Willow vase in the center that was full of pink roses. True, it was a nice place setting, but nothing too elaborate. Why were they making such a big deal?
“It looks nice,” Emmett commented.
“Sweetness, you’ve outdone yourself,” Hunter praised.
“I’m glad you like it,” she replied, frowning when they continued to stare at the table like cavemen discovering fire for the first time. “Is something wrong?”
“We’re just not used to this,” Hunter explained.
“The other maids didn’t set the table?”
“They did, but only with dishes, or sometimes they would give us TV trays since we often eat separately,” Emmett added. “You’re spoiling us.”
Mellie smiled. “I thought it would be a nice way to have a meal.”
“We appreciate it,” Diego said.
Melanie dished up food onto their plates while they sat down. She set each man’s plate in front of him and then started to leave.
“Where are you going?” Emmett asked.
“My cousin Aubrey called a little bit ago,” she answered, grabbing her purse. “She wants to have dinner with me. I’ll be staying with her from now on at night, but I’ll be here on time every workday.”
The men exchanged looks before looking back over at her.
“You haven’t talked with Greyson yet, have you?” Diego concluded.
Emmett shook his head. “I think he’s avoiding her.”
“Why would he want to avoid me?” she asked.
“He’s tired of all the drama involving the housekeepers,” Emmett replied. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Once you meet him, you can’t take it back.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Hunter stood and grabbed his gray Stetson. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. I need my car anyway to get back here in the morning,” she reminded him.
“I’ll pick you up,” Hunter offered.
“That’s generous of you, but it sounds like a hassle for you.”
“Not at all.” He brushed her cheek with his palm, lowering his voice even more. “It’s important that we spend as much time together as we can, angel.”
Why was it so important that they spend a lot of time together? She didn’t think to ask. How could she think with the way he fondled her cheek and then tucked her hair behind her ear?
“I enjoy your company, but it’s probably best if I just go alone this time. I don’t want to keep Aubrey waiting.”
Emmett smirked. “Now why would Hunter going with you make your cousin have to wait longer for you than if you went alone?”
Melanie blushed, knowing he knew damned well why. “I should go or I’m going to be late.”
“I understand.” Hunter relented. “Drive carefully.”
“I will. Enjoy your dinner.”
Just walking out the door without him, knowing that he wanted to go with her as much as she wanted him to brought her down low. She should have said yes. It might be a grief-inducing, bad idea in the end, but right now her susceptible heart didn’t seem to know any better. She just hoped that walking away from him wouldn’t end up being another decision in life that she would ultimately regret later on down the road.
Chapter Four
Melanie got to the ranch early the following morning, telling herself she hadn’t gotten dressed up for Hunter. It was a sky-blue lacy camisole top that just might have been showing a scandalous amount of cleavage. Not that she planned it that way or anything. The weather forecast had predicted a hot day today. The ladies would need some air. It was only natural.
Her silky white skirt flowed when she walked, but the hem only fell to about her knees so it was nice and cool. She supposed it could be called sexy if one really analyzed it. Not that she was trying for that or anything.
She’d curled her hair. Why not? She had to look presentable for work.
Most days she wore minimal makeup if any. It was only on special occasions or crappy face days that she added foundation to the beauty mix. Today was one of those days. Her skin had a nice, healthy glow to it, but this morning felt particularly special for some unknown reason.
Her second day of work, that must be it, although she’d never stood up and danced about her second day of work with any of her past jobs, even the very first ones that she’d liked.
Of course that might have had something to do with the fact that Hunter O’Neil hadn’t been her boss back then at those other jobs. It was a shame really. If she’d met him first she might have avoided the tragedy with Danny and all the other mistakes she’d made in her life to steal her happiness and screw up her reputation.
/> She wore cute flip-flops with light blue straps that matched the shade of her camisole top. The soles were made of some type of faux straw material as if she were walking on baskets the whole way. The image of using baskets for shoes tickled her funny bone. She’d look like a freak if she resorted to such things.
Mellie parked her car and started to head toward the magnificent log house, stopping when Diego passed with a wheelbarrow of manure and soiled wood shavings.
“Buenos días. Hunter is waiting for you in the stable,” he informed her.
Uh-oh, am I in trouble?
“Oh, okay. Thank you.” She waved at him as she changed directions and made her way over to the horse stable. “Good morning to you, too.”
She found Hunter inside the stable as foretold. He was apparently cinching up a saddle he’d placed on the back of a buckskin horse that was tethered to hooks in the walls with a rope connecting from the hooks to the metal rings in the horse’s bridle, one on each side.
“Good morning,” she greeted him.
He gave her a fond smile in the brief moment he looked at her before turning his focus back to the animal. “Good morning. You’re here early. I was hoping you would be.”
“Why is that?”
“I want to go riding with you.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. “You mean on a horse?”
On a horse? Stupid, stupid, stupid! No, on a chicken. Of course on a horse! What the hell is wrong with you?
Hunter got a big smile on his face, but he didn’t make fun of her stupid question. “Yep, on Mustard here. He’s the gentlest horse we have. Mine actually. I guess my mellow temperament must have rubbed off on the old boy.”
If Hunter were a horse she’d ride him. He gave her peace and made her trust him without even realizing she was opening herself up to someone. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t mind riding Hunter as a human.
“I was only on a horse once years ago when I was a little girl. I don’t even think it counts really since my dad led him around with a lead rope while I was on his back. The horse, not my dad. Getting a piggyback ride from my dad while he led a horse without a rider around would have been pretty pointless.”
She closed her eyes, wondering why she’d been born with a tongue. If God was all-knowing, wouldn’t he want to spare the rest of mankind the pain of listening to her babble?
Then again, maybe he gave her a tongue so he could chuckle at her inability to form a coherent sentence when nervous.
She wasn’t normally like this. Generally she’d been in control of her speech and feelings where men were concerned, but back then she hadn’t cared. She did now. It scared her, but she cared a great deal what Hunter thought of her. She wanted to say the right things around him and instead she was making an absolute fool of herself.
Hunter grinned.
Melanie shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t know why I talk.”
“I’m glad you do. I love the sweet, melodic sound of your voice.”
He actually meant it. His appreciation relaxed her.
Mischief tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It’s a might bit entertaining, too.”
She surprised herself when she didn’t blush. Instead she grinned, somehow able to laugh at herself for being an idiot. He made her realize it was okay to be goofy sometimes even though he treated her like every word coming out of her mouth carried the importance of a speech delivered by the president himself.
“I won’t let you fall, angel. I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe.”
How could anyone resist those beautiful words spoken in such a dreamy hush?
Hunter helped her up onto the saddle and guided her feet into the stirrups. He opened the stable door, untied the animal, and then led him outside. He mounted the horse himself and then let Mellie put her feet back into the stirrups while his dangled free.
“We’ve got a ton of land. No one will see us,” he promised, reining Mustard in the direction he wanted the horse to go. “I just want to spend some time with you before you start your workday.”
“Thank you. I forgot how nice it feels to ride a horse.”
“It is nice. I’m my most at home on one. The only place I feel more like myself is when I’m with you.”
Dang, he was smooth. She wanted to keep her head screwed on straight, but his lines struck her as completely sincere, which made it that much harder to walk away from him.
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.
Jake gave her permission to sleep with Hunter, but she doubted he’d want his brother coming onto her with professions of supposed feelings. That would complicate things even more. She was here to do her job, but sometimes it seemed more like she was here to do some cowboys.
Hunter placed his hand on her thigh casually like she was any surface he might rest upon. The heat of his touch burned through the flimsy material of her skirt and scorched her skin with all kinds of forbidden needs and desperate longing.
“You look absolutely breathtaking, Melanie,” he murmured softly into her hair before dropping an almost weightless kiss there.
“Thank you. You look very handsome today, Hunter. You always do.” She grimaced, hoping that hadn’t been too inappropriate.
He started it.
“Thanks. Do you mind if I touch you, sweetness?”
The air rushed from her lungs, her stomach tightened with arousal, and her core fired like liquid metal.
“Not at all.”
The silky skirt felt like a teasing caress whispering over her skin as he pushed the hem higher up her spread thighs. She leaned back into him, allowing him greater access as his hand dipped into her panties. A hot flood of desire poured from her cunt at the harsh, sensuous feel of his manly hand cupping her mound. The roughness of his skin rested flush against the softness of her feminine flesh, holding her pussy in his hand as if claiming it as his own.
“Will you come for me, Mellie?” He breathed into her neck in between bestowing her skin with feverish kisses.
“Yes,” she whispered.
His callused index finger skimmed through her moist folds. The rough pad scraped lightly over her spongy vulva, teasing her inner sex lips open like a flower opening for the beckoning sun. Her body responded to him, unleashing warm moisture effortlessly for his questing finger to wallow in.
His digit swiveled upward and pressed gently against her eager clitoris. She gasped, feeling sizzling spirals of electricity shoot through her when he tapped the sensitive nub a few times before letting up.
Even when another finger traced licentious circles around the rim of her entrance it woke her nerves up, sending sexual warmth through every part of her.
He massaged her puffy clit gently, causing it to swell and pulse until she didn’t think she could stand it any longer. She needed to come, but his lazy ministrations stimulated her just enough to drag her to the fringe of abandon without actually tossing her into the abyss of climax.
“Do you want to come, angel?”
“So much. Please.”
The hedonistic strain in her voice sure sounded like begging. Was she actually imploring him for sexual release? Did any man really have that kind of power over her now? What happened to her being the initiator and the one in control during sex? She wondered if letting a man give her pleasure and take control in the bedroom was the reason she was actually turned on by Hunter and Jake, in addition to their undeniable good looks.
Hunter rolled her needy clit in slow, torturous circles, drawing the wondrous sensations out until she thought she’d go mad under such torment.
“Are you close, Mellie?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
Her legs locked and her feet pressed hard in the stirrups. She felt him move his legs in between hers and the horse’s barrel.
“I don’t want you to squeeze Mustard when you come. He might think you want him to pick up speed,” Hunter explained.
“Okay.”
His octave quieted to a rive
ting hush that thrilled everything primitive in her. “Do it, Melanie. Come in your panties for me.”
Mellie moaned as heat swallowed her whole in its smoldering embrace and pleasure contracted her muscles, setting off spasms in her womb. It was a major turn-on the way he continued to guide the horse as if riding the animal was all he was doing at the moment. It didn’t detract from his carnal prowess any.
Her pussy fluttered and clenched on emptiness, sending a fresh surge of hot cream into her panties. She felt the intensity of her pulse tripping through various parts of her body—her clit, her heart, in her neck and wrists—the power in his touch had a ripple effect she couldn’t escape from.
“You’re so beautiful, angel. Give me another one. You don’t know what it does to me to hold you in my arms like this and feel you writhing against me.”
She sighed and melted into him, resting in the security of his strong arms, his ability to handle the horse, and his dexterity with her body that impressed her greatly.
This time Hunter made a V with his pointer and middle fingers and rested them against her labia, pulling her outer sex lips higher to expose more of her clitoris. He tickled the protective pink hood, coaxing it to let down its guard and surrender the delicate pearl it shrouded. The raw contact directly on her bundle of nerves was intense, sending sharp jabs of pleasure into her body that demanded her full attention.
Then he changed the pressure and tempo of his strokes. Now the light rubbing was almost nonexistent like a faint breeze floating across her skin on a scorching summer day. The light touch and insistent harshness of his work-roughened finger commanded that she respond to his sexual advances. He made her an offer she simply couldn’t refuse.
Her control shredded and her cunt clamped down hard, muscles jerking with each strong contraction that seized her. Molten arousal oozed from her vagina, dampening her panties. She knew later she would dislike walking around in wet underwear, but right now it intensified her lust.
Hunter stopped the horse and tethered him to a random log. Most of the terrain was wild prairie, but there were trees occasionally, probably planted for shade since the land in this area was mostly devoid of them naturally.