Leo might always get a kick out of mercilessly teasing Barrett, but he’d made no moves. Showed no signs he was the least bit interested. Much better that way, too, because Barrett knew from personal experience and heard from the gossip in town that Leo didn’t do relationships.
Leo fucked, no goodbyes and hard feelings, and moved on to his next conquest. Rinse and repeat. Tangling with a man like that only courted trouble. Leo was beyond his league, and Barrett knew it. Barrett was the type of steady, predictable and boring guy who went slow not fast, careful and never wild. Maybe that was why Toby left him.
“Fine time to feel sorry for yourself,” Barrett muttered angrily.
Jesus. He needed a drink. He had planned on hitting the hay early tonight, but he might just take up Raul’s offer. The other guys planned to drive to the next town to try the newly opened roadhouse. Maybe he could strike up a conversation with some lone and unattached cowboy. Get that stranger to ride him. Prove to the world and fuck-you-Toby that Barrett could be impulsive and reckless whenever he wanted.
Decision made, he kept his tools and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.
“I see you’re working hard, city slicker,” a familiar voice drawled.
Barrett jumped at the sight of Leo standing right over him, looking gorgeous as sin in a pair of tight jeans, well-used cowboy boots and a faded denim shirt. He still couldn’t figure out why pompous assholes like Leo could be this good-looking, even leaning casually against the fence like that.
Still, the nickname galled him. “Don’t call me that.”
Leo tipped up his Stetson, showing Barrett his grin underneath his coarse, sandy-colored stubble.
Built lean like a fighter, tanned nicely like any man who worked under the sun, every inch of Leo was covered in hard muscle. Worse, he had piercing dark eyes that saw everything. Barrett swore in the right light Leo’s eyes looked golden—feral, like they belonged to a wolf rather than a man. The golden-haired cowboy could be any guy’s wet dream. Certainly fulfilled all of his cowboy fantasies, the kind he got off to back when he was a teen, unsure of his sexuality.
Barrett refused to let his employer get to him. He stood, dusted off the dirt on his jeans, about to pick up his tool box, surprised when Leo offered him a cold bottle of locally brewed beer. Wary of the peace offering, Barrett took it, uncapped the top and took a long and satisfying gulp. The liquid ambrosia went down his throat smoothly. Barrett sighed, not bothering to disguise his pleasure. Damn. Another thing in this place he was getting addicted to.
“I bet that’s what you sound like after a guy gets you off, like a happy little puppy eager for more.”
Excuse me? Barrett nearly dropped the bottle. “What the fuck, man?”
Leo shrugged, clearly not seeing anything wrong with what he’d just said. “Am I wrong?”
“That’s none of your goddamn business.”
“Sorry. That was out of line,” Leo said.
Barrett looked back at Leo passively. Leo didn’t sound all that apologetic, because Leo loved winding him up and seeing him go. Barrett had enough of playing senseless games.
Leo continued, “You need to relax, Barrett. Learn to live a little. Smoke some weed. Get laid. You always take things too seriously and I’ve read somewhere too much stress isn’t good for your heart.”
Barrett did know, because Toby always said he was too intense. Still, the words rankled. Probably pushed him to admit defeat. Barrett let out a sigh. “Yeah. You’re probably right. ”He felt a smidge of satisfaction at Leo’s surprised look. What use was arguing when it was easier to give in? Besides, Barrett needed to wrap things up. He had a fun evening ahead.
“Thanks for the beer and the advice, boss.” He purposely shoved the empty bottle in Leo’s hands.
He took his toolbox and walked away. Barrett did his best not to fidget, to give himself away. He’d never been cruel or petty, but Leo seemed to bring out the worst in him. Maybe all that selfishness had been inside Barrett all along.
Playing the role of Toby’s dutiful sub forced Barrett to hide his real emotions from his Dom. Flaws that made Barrett undesirable and complicated. He had been terrified of rejection.
Spending hours on the ranch doing honest work gave Barrett a lot of time to think. To reexamine his choices and mistakes and to come to the realization that if Toby really did love and value him as a partner, Toby wouldn’t have cheated on him. Likewise, if Barrett felt the same, he shouldn’t feel so inadequate all the time.
Leo’s curiosity must have won, because he called out to him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Work hard, play hard, right? Have a good one, boss.” Leo didn’t reply, but Barrett could feel his anger simmering from a distance. Men like Leo weren’t used to being brushed off, but he better get used to it.
When Barrett returned to the farmhouse, Raul and the others were already loaded up in the truck.
Raul rolled down the driver’s window. “Barrett, are you coming or not?”
“Give me ten minutes. I need a shower and a fresh change of clothes.”
Raul’s lips split into a grin. “Don’t take too long. Otherwise, we’ll leave your skinny ass behind.”
Barrett took two steps at a time to his room. About time he broke away from the rock he’d been hiding under for the past few weeks.
* * * *
“Son of a bitch,” Leo muttered under his breath.
He watched Barrett’s retreating figure for a couple of seconds, a predator marking the motions of the prey that was about to be his. It took all of Leo not to use his supernatural strength and cross the distance between them. To grip a handful of Barrett’s sweaty shirt and finally get a taste of Barrett and to let him feel how hard Leo got under the simple contact.
Fuck. Practically drove Leo mad to keep away from the city slicker over the past weeks. His brothers said nothing, although Leo could tell they knew he had his eye on Barrett. No matter how many men Leo hooked up with, he came home alone. Eventually, Leo had started getting off to the image of Barrett. Hell, this week alone he managed to come up with a hundred creative ways to bring Barrett to his knees. Barrett, naked, bound and sweaty, aiming those lethal puppy dog eyes at him.
“God. I’m fucked,” Leo muttered under his breath.
He told his wolf to wait. Wounds needed time to heal, after all, and he’d given Barrett that. The human had no fucking clue just how generous he had been, because when Leo had his sights on something he wanted, he couldn’t stop or slow down. Barrett didn’t know Leo kept tabs on him, especially when Barrett went out with the other ranch hands. He’d been pleased to find out Barrett said no to all the offers, to the men and women who hit on him.
Leo admitted as the weeks passed, Barrett began to look tasty. Edible temptation Leo would love to take bite-size chunks out of, especially with his tan and the muscles firming up his calves, chest, back and arms. No one would mistake him for a city slicker gym bunny now.
The way Barrett brushed him off—that was new. Alarming. Something in Barrett had snapped, or at least, changed for the better. There was a new glint in his gaze that wasn’t there before, a certain spring in his walk. A daring look that told Leo the human was done sulking around. Barrett was on the prowl, but Leo was the only one who should be hunting him.
Growling under his breath, Leo headed back to the farmhouse. He sniffed, searching for Barrett’s scent. How would the human react if he knew Leo had imprinted Barrett’s scent on him since day one?
No surprise Barrett had left with the others. Fuming, Leo stomped onto the porch.
“Your human left about five minutes ago,” Lee, his older brother, said.
“Five minutes, you say?”
Lee chuckled. “Better make a move on it, Leo, before someone else claims him. He’s prime meat.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed. “You implying something?”
“Just dragging the truth out in the open, the truth everyone else knows.”
<
br /> “What the fuck? You asking for a fight, Lee?” Been a while since Leo and his brothers traded blows, claws or teeth, but Leo figured he could take Lee on.
“Don’t waste your time. Everyone at the ranch knows that human’s yours. You’ve practically been territorial around him, practically wearing a ‘fuck off, he’s mine’ sign on your neck. The only reason shifters act that way is when they finally find their mate.”
Mate. The word lodged an unwanted lump in Leo’s throat. Fucking impossible, because Leo swore he wouldn’t be tied down and wouldn’t make an exception for anyone. Mates and the concept of instant love were for romantic pussies. Besides, if Barrett really was his mate, Leo would have felt the reaction deep in his bones and so would Barrett. Barrett was a damn puzzle. A mess. Hot one moment, then cold the next. Barrett hated Leo, but then sported a hard-on for him.
What the hell, right?
“Bullshit.”
“You’re the one in denial, not me.”
“I don’t believe in mates or all that happily ever after nonsense other mated shifters like to spout.”
Lee crossed his arms and looked at him thoughtfully. “Love isn’t instant or easy, Leo. Mates are the same.”
“Can you actually hear what you’re saying, Lee? You don’t believe in that shit.”
“Maybe I do now. I’m not asking you and Barrett to get hitched, just telling you to acknowledge your attraction to the human. If you want to let him go, if you don’t have the guts to claim him, then fine. Let some other shifter try his luck.”
“No.” Leo practically snarled out the word. The thought of some hairy, big werebear asking Barrett to go for a ride pissed him off until he only saw red. “Fuck you, Lee.”
“Love you, too, little bro.” Work done, Lee retreated back inside the house.
Leo took out his bike from the shed, stepped on the accelerator and picked up speed. He’d heard Raul talking about heading to the roadhouse next town over. The place would probably be packed, but Leo would easily be able to pick up Barrett’s scent. Damn human and Lee. If Leo managed to get his hands on Barrett, he planned on making the human see just how generous and patient he’d been all this while.
Chapter Three
Barrett took a satisfying, long pull of his beer. He closed his eyes, savoring the smooth liquid sliding down his throat. Sure felt good brushing off Leo like this, although Barrett suspected there would be repercussions to his actions later. So what? Would Leo fire him? He didn’t think so, but who knew?
“Stop looking so fucking down. You’re scaring everyone approaching your radar,” Raul said beside him on the bar. The newly opened Bucking Cowboy roadhouse was in full swing tonight. Barrett even recognized some folks from their side of town.
“I’m dark and glum, huh?” Barrett asked, amused.
“Brooding,” Raul corrected. “Although some guys like that kind of thing. You seem different tonight, though.”
“Yeah? I’m hoping to score.”
Raul scoffed, but Barrett didn’t blame him. He wasn’t the best sort of company. Barrett knew that. Moping and thinking about Toby made him forget about his surroundings. Toby, like the rest of the world, had moved on. Besides, he no longer thought about Toby when the lights went out at night. More often than not, once Raul started snoring, it was Leo Barrett thought of when he needed quick relief.
In his fantasies Leo stood above his kneeling and naked form, caressing the handle of a bullwhip. Barrett could imagine tension cutting the air like a knife. How Leo would use his boots to nudge his knees slightly to reveal his growing erection. He could even feel the texture of those boots, so supple and soft, unlike Leo. No, Leo, despite his jokes and constant teasing, would be a hard master.
“Barrett? You thinking about that nasty ex of yours again?” Raul asked.
Barrett shook his head, cheeks slightly heated. How could he think of Leo when there must be dozens of other prospects right here? Raul knew a little about Toby, but Barrett didn’t go into the details of their relationship.
“The guy you badly want to bone? He’s not here, bud. He’s back at the ranch.”
Barrett whipped his head around to stare at Raul. His mouth hung open. “What the fuck?”
Raul snorted, rolling his eyes. “Come on, dude. I’m your bunkmate. You moan Leo’s name in your sleep. What’s there to hide?”
Barrett didn’t bother denying it. “Leo’s my boss. It’s going to be awkward during the day if we have a one-night fling. I can’t handle the whole friends with benefits thing. Hell, we’re not even friends.”
“You spend an awful lot of time together,” Raul remarked.
“Fighting,” Barrett quipped. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here. I want dirty, quick and uncomplicated.”
Raul thumped his back. “That’s more like it, buddy.”
“Er, thanks. Worst thing that comes out of tonight? No one’s going to approach me, and I’ll get roaring drunk,” Barrett muttered. Finishing his beer, he was about to ask the bartender for another, when Raul leaned over.
“Don’t look over your shoulder, but a cowboy’s coming over. I know Carl Reese. He owns the ranch west side of town. Plays for the same team as you and he’s not looking for commitments. Oh. Should mention he’s a werebear, but what the heck, right?”
“What?” Barrett blurted. He could barely process Raul’s words, although he was certain he drank only two beers this evening. “A shifter. Are you fucking kidding me?”
Ever since Toby, Barrett harbored an intense and unexplainable prejudice against the supernatural. Shifters in particular, because assholes like Toby apparently thought mere humans couldn’t meet their needs the same way as their own kind did.
Raul looked confused. “I thought—well, you know, Leo and his brothers—”
The ranch hand didn’t finish his sentence as the huge cowboy finally came within inches of Barrett. Barrett glimpsed a thick wall of muscle buried under a red-checkered shirt.
Jesus. Why was everyone he met so buffed? Finally, Barrett reached the guy’s tanned, smiling face. Carl looked to be somewhere in between his late twenties or early thirties. While he didn’t have Leo’s sharp good looks, his bearded and roughly handsome face had a kind of appeal.
“This seat taken?” Carl asked.
“Be my guest,” Barrett replied. Raul rose, patting his shoulder.
“Carl,” Raul greeted.
The werebear nodded in acknowledgment. “Raul.”
“Barrett, meet Carl. Carl, this is Barrett. He’s the new hand at the ranch. You take good care of him, you hear?” Raul demanded.
Barrett didn’t know whether to be pissed or grateful to Raul for eliminating the hassle of introductions.
“I will,” Carl said in that same deep voice. Satisfied, Raul left them to their devices. Carl finally turned to him. Barrett felt Carl assessing him before asking, “Can I get you another beer?”
“Sounds good.” By all accounts, he should be terrified of the werebear. Those huge arms could easily snap him in two without effort, but Barrett sensed a kind of strange calmness about Carl.
“You like working for the McLeod brothers?” Carl asked after ordering.
“Sure. I don’t have much experience in ranching, but they gave me a chance. It all worked out in the end,” Barrett answered. They talked about surface level things—favorite sports team, food, likes and dislikes. He started feeling comfortable about Carl.
“What do you say we get out of here? I know a good diner nearby that serves the best cheeseburger around these parts,” Carl said eventually.
Barrett couldn’t help the laugh that came out of him. God. He’d forgotten how nice it was being single. No rules and no expectations involved, just simple, good old fun. Carl seemed like the sort of guy he needed. Beer. Dinner. Barrett also kind of looked forward to being ridden by Carl, even if Carl was a shifter.
“I get dinner, too?” Barrett asked, before Carl misunderstood his laugh.
“Sure, you li
ke greasy food?”
“Hell, yeah.” Toby had always insisted Barrett kept trim and fit, so fast food hadn’t been part of his diet plan. Working at the ranch helped him burn calories quickly, though, no matter what or how much he ate.
Carl touched his hand on the bar, initiating contact. His hand was huge, incredibly warm. No sparks, but Barrett was fine with that. He hopped off his seat. Raul sat a few tables away, chatting up with a scantily clad blonde. Barrett caught his eye, and Raul waved his phone, telling Barrett to call him in case of an emergency. If Carl Reese was a known member of the tiny community, Barrett should encounter no problems, but it was good to have backup.
“Where do you think you’re going with my property, Carl?”
Barrett couldn’t make out the voice at first. It sounded more animal than human, but there was something distinctly familiar about it. All six feet of angry cowboy came up to Carl’s face seconds later.
Barrett almost didn’t recognize Leo. Rage rippled off him in waves. When Leo didn’t wear his usual mask of amusement, he looked shit-ass scary. Feral. Any other human would be frightened, but for some fucked reason, Barrett was attracted to all that possessiveness.
“Last I heard, this human doesn’t belong to anyone,” Carl said evenly, still keeping his hand on Barrett’s wrist.
“I belong to myself,” Barrett gritted out in annoyance.
His previous experience with Toby taught him giving himself fully to another man was a grievous mistake. He couldn’t survive rejection a second time, and yet his perverse mind wondered what it was like being under Leo’s leash. One moment Leo could be hot, the next cold, but Barrett had a feeling he was seeing Leo’s real side for the first time.
“I’m not going to fucking repeat myself, Carl. Let go of what’s mine, or I’m going to rip your throat out,” Leo hissed.
Most men would back off, but Carl wasn’t one of them.
“Go ahead, hotshot. You think you can take me? You’ve had your chance, and you’ve fucked it up.”
Roped and Ridden Page 2