by Chiah Wilder
Flux cursed under his breath and turned back to his hay pile, hoping she didn’t notice while he did some adjusting. Something about this woman turned him into a horny teenager and it was infuriating. It was like his sex drive didn’t have an off switch. Wouldn’t it be great if he could attribute it to playing a cat and mouse game—that she was the one who got away from his bed where no one had ever turned him down before—but it wasn’t that simple. It seemed that nothing was easy when it came to Maggie. Keep it simple at all times—yeah, right. Another one of his rules thrown in the crapper.
“You’ve got some pretty serious ink on your arms. I bet there was a lot of time and money that went into their creations.”
“You’d win that bet. You got any more tats in places that I’d like to explore?”
“No,” she said quickly as she hoisted another shovel full of hay and spread it around the stall. “Horses have always been my thing. I’ve been riding them since I could walk. Combine that with my whole family being obsessed with the rodeo, and well, here I am.”
“Simple as that?” Flux cracked his knuckles and leaned against the shovel. “Girl meets rodeo, girl falls in love?”
There was that cute as hell smile that made her cheeks dimple and a blush spread across her face before she moved to hide it. He loved catching her off guard. The way she scrambled to act all tough made him feel oddly protective, and he enjoyed the fact that he could push her off her cocky pedestal without being an asshole about it.
“You want my resume now?” She laughed, then threw a handful of hay in his direction as he dodged it, covering his head.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Duchess,” he warned, unable to conceal the burst of playful possessiveness that had risen to the surface. When was the last time he’d felt that? Six years ago before … don’t fuckin’ go there.
Maggie’s small tongue flicked out, taunting him.
Damn, she’s sexy. He couldn’t very well let that score go unsettled, now could he?
Before he knew exactly what he was doing, Flux let the shovel fall to the ground and was suddenly less than a step away from scooping her luscious body up in his arms. He remembered the feel of her beneath his palms when they were dancing. Maggie’s curves had molded to him in the best way possible as they swayed together. Flux didn’t hesitate as he grabbed her around the waist and fused their bodies together.
She gasped and her eyes grew wide.
“I warned you, darlin’,” he said before his other hand threaded through her soft blonde locks. “You wanted to make this a game, but I forgot to tell you that I don’t play fair.”
Her lips parted and nothing came out; all her comebacks seemed to be at a standstill. Their flirtation had taken a dangerous turn and he knew, for better or worse, this was a breaking point.
“What do you say?” He ran his fingers over the tat on her neck. Her skin was like satin. Fuck.
Her blue orbs locked on his, and she tilted her head back slightly. “Do it,” she breathed out, a delicate sound close to a whisper.
But to him, she might as well have shouted the words. Flux didn’t dare breathe and desire rocked through his body as he growled and tugged her back to angle her head at the very second he took her sweet lips. The moment their mouths fused together, Flux couldn’t get enough. Every part of him pressed closer against Maggie with his grip tightening possessively around her waist as she moaned into his mouth.
Flux slipped his tongue between her lips and explored her sweet mouth, possessing her completely with every sharp breath. She made a delicate little sound that went straight to his hard-as-hell cock. Fuck, she felt amazing, just like everything she’d promised without words when they had been dancing together. His hand glided down and grabbed her ass, squeezing it gently at first, then harder while she made little noises and bit his lower lip.
Maggie’s fingers gripped his shirt before easing it up behind his neck. He ground against her as he kneaded the ass that had been on his mind since the first time he’d seen it, and she rubbed her soft tits against his chest. They were entangled in the throes of passion that left them panting. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt so much of … anything.
“Goddamn, darlin’, you’re … Fuck,” he growled. He was lost. Gone in the touch and taste of her, a little like beer and cherries. Her lower lip popped out of his mouth and she dragged him down with the same dominating force that was working through him. With their lips still fused together, they both maneuvered toward the bed of hay that they’d been working so hard to lay out for the past hour. Maggie sank down into it as if she belonged there and he lay over the top of her, in between her legs so that every inch of him pressed against her—there was no way she could doubt the effect she had on him.
There was also no question that the vixen gave as good as she got, and every time Flux moved back for air, she came at him equally hard and with just as much passion. His dick pulsed against his leg as Maggie moved her hips upward, lightly grinding against him. She was making cute little noises that were driving him fucking wild, and her hands alternated between gripping his hair and moving down to grab his ass.
“You’re killin’ me, Duchess,” he rasped. His cock throbbed painfully, and he needed to ram it inside her heat and fuck her like she’d never been fucked before.
She moaned louder and gripped his butt harder.
Then there was a noise outside the stable, like something had dropped from high up. Maggie stiffened and Flux cursed.
“What was that?” she asked. “No one’s supposed to be here.”
“In a rodeo, someone’s always around doing shit. It’s probably just one of the stable hands.
“I guess.”
He dipped his head down and before he could claim her lips again, there was another sound. “Fuck,” he muttered as he pulled back and rested on his knees. He helped her sit up and suddenly Flux realized that the stable wasn’t the place to be banging her for the first time. He wanted it to be special. Special? Yeah … he’d think about breaking that rule another time, but at that moment, he wanted to make sure no one was spying on them.
He licked his lips, wanting to savor the taste of her. They were both still breathing ragged when Maggie looked at him as she ran her tongue over her bruised lips with a growing smile.
“Wow, damn …” The sentiment sat in the air between them. “That was …”
“Yeah.” Flux cleared his throat, unable to look away from her glowing face. “That was something.” His body still chomped at the bit to figure out a way to get his hands back on her and finish off exactly what they’d started together. Shit, if that was only the appetizer, he could only imagine what she’d be like when he got all her clothes off.
Arousal still buzzed inside him as he stood up. He rolled his shoulders and reached out to Maggie, who moved in the hay sluggishly. She grabbed his hand and the feel of her skin didn’t help jack shit in trying to calm his dick down. He pulled her up then let go quickly and walked toward the barn’s entrance.
“Did you hear that noise?” His voice was still thick with desire, and he hated that he needed her that much. “I’m gonna see if someone’s around.”
“It was probably something falling off the lofts. It happens all the time, but during the day no one pays attention to it.”
“Maybe, but I don’t go for guessing—I like to know exactly what’s going on. I’ll be right back.”
Darkness surrounded him and the only sounds he heard were the shuffle of hooves and the chomping of mouths. He walked around the barn, then up and down the aisles, checking out each of the stables, but nothing was amiss.
When he returned, Maggie had the shovel in hand, back to work. She didn’t look up at him, she just kept at it as if nothing had happened between them.
As quickly as they had come together, they had split apart.
Damn.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Chet
Chet stood in the shadows watching his girl
clean out the stall, working side by side with that biker asshole. He made sure not to make any noise this time as he crept back to watch Maggie make a damn fool of herself with that bastard.
When Chet had first seen them together at the bar, everything went red. How the fuck could Maggie want him over me? A well of anger pulsed inside him as he watched them clean out the stall. Neither of them spoke, and Chet wondered how long it would take Maggie to wise up and realize that Flux was nothing more than a man whore who only wanted to use her. When she finally grew a fucking brain, he had no doubt that she would come crawling back to him, begging for a second chance.
Of course, he’d take Maggie back—she was the love of his life, but she’d be punished for her indiscretions. Although, he couldn’t really count on her wising up any time soon, especially since he’d seen that vulgar display of their lust just a short while before. So he’d have to make sure that she’d see the light—sooner rather than later.
How could she let that vermin touch her? If he hadn’t made some noise, he was positive they’d have done it right there and then, in the hay with the stench of shit all around them. And to think that she rebuffed his advances only to roll around in a barn with that dirty biker just like a slut. Oh Maggie, you’ve really fallen since you broke away from me.
Chet had known Maggie was his from the second he saw her take on a barrel race. Her intensity was admirable, and he knew he’d enjoy taming her spirit and making her his protected and coddled play thing. She’d be the mother of his children and his future wife.
Just like any good stallion, all Maggie needed was a little taming.
But she wasn’t going to get it from the low life pawing at her like a damn animal. Maggie was better than that, which Chet had tried to show her during their brief but oh-so important time together. He knew she’d only run away from their relationship because she was scared. What they had was something real, and it spooked her because she was worried about changing into something she didn’t yet understand. No worries, honeycakes. I’ll make sure you’re not scared anymore. He’d help her and guide her in the ways he needed her to be—so that she could be better for them both.
If only Maggie would let him. Stubborn little bitch.
Chet pushed down the anger and tried to find an outlet for his rage that didn’t involve throwing himself headlong into a fight with Flux while Maggie was in the way. She didn’t need to see that side of him. That would hardly encourage her to trust him. And in order for his molding to work, Maggie needed to know she was safe, that he would take care of her completely so long as she abided by his rules. He was much better for her than that narcissistic asshole would ever be.
Honestly, Chet didn’t see why all the girls went crazy for a shiny motorcycle, a vulgar biker with more tattoos covering his body than skin, and a stupid leather jacket and vest. Flux was an A-class jerk who treated women like playthings. Chet had heard talk about the biker and had even seen him in action during the last two rodeos they’d worked together. It was unbelievable and sickening, yet the women still lined up, just waiting to be used by him. Why the hell are women so weak? Chet knew the answer: Deep down, most women craved a strong man to take the lead, harness them, and take care of them. They didn’t need a macho man for one good, solid fuck before being discarded for the next girl in line. No, they needed a loving man who could take charge and let them be free to do what women did best—please their husbands and have babies.
Chet shook his head. He had carnal desires, but at least he had the class to take that kind of business to a hooker instead of leaving it for a decent woman to pick up the pieces.
His lip curled with disgust, and just thinking about what an abomination Flux was made Chet wish he would’ve fucked with the biker’s shiny pride and joy. Maybe without his toy, a woman like Maggie would rip the blinders off, and the loser’s appeal would take a nose dive. All that asshole had going for him was the bad boy vibe and a damn Harley-Davidson. Big fucking deal. Flux was as far from a gentleman as it got, and it was up to Chet to make sure Maggie understood that so she would appreciate a real gentleman—him.
Chet shook his head. As long as he was playing secret babysitter, his girl would be safe, but eventually he’d have to lay down the law and make her see things his way. He figured at first Maggie wasn’t going to like that, but after some time she’d learn just like every animal he’d broken from the time he was old enough to wield a rope.
“Excuse me, Chet? Can I help you?”
Chet swung around from his main focus and stumbled out of the barn. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed as he motioned the lowly employee to follow him.
They went away from the barn and back to the arena, then Chet stopped and his frown turned into a deep scowl.
The worker tucked his hands into his pockets and took a step backward from Chet.
Fucking coward. “Now what the hell do you want?”
“Just wondering if you needed anything. You don’t usually show up here this late,” the man stammered.
“I need you to mind your own business and get the hell outta here. Got it?” He sneered and the employee stumbled farther back, his eyes widening. “Do I need to put that in a simpler language that you can understand?”
“Uh, no, you’re…”
Chet watched the stable hand grope for the right word, then he walked away, cutting him off. He hid himself behind one of the work sheds as he waited for Maggie. The image of Flux rolling all over his girl, his large hands touching her everywhere made his jaw clench. He had his hands on her ass and she … she was touching his too. A low, feral sound leaked out between his lips.
Hardly the noise of a gentleman, but he was driven to distraction by the memory of Maggie dangling her wares and then cruelly ripping them away from Chet. She acted like she was so innocent. What a damn liar and tease. Since Maggie had taken a break from him—that’s the way he saw it—he hadn’t touched another decent woman as he waited for his girl to come crawling back to him. Of course, his visits to the occasional hooker didn’t count because, after all, men had needs. Chet had abstained from decent women so he wouldn’t hurt Maggie’s feelings, but after he’d seen how disrespectful Maggie had been to him, she now needed to understand what it was like to watch him with other women. It was only fair, and when Maggie saw all the southern charm and gentlemanly attention she’d be missing, she’d trip over her feet in a rush to get back together with him, especially when the biker kicked her gorgeous ass to the curb.
Chet pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket. When he’d seen Maggie making a damn fool of herself over Flux at the bar, he’d reached out to a woman he’d met at the rodeo a few nights before. She’d been flirting up a storm with him and they exchanged numbers, but he had no intention of calling her until just a few hours ago. That’s what you made me do, honeycakes. Chet flexed his fist and looked around for something to hit at the idea that his girl had kissed that walking STD. He spat to the side and brought up his texts.
It looked like his date would be right on time. The last thing she’d sent him was a small heart emoji a few hours before. He’d asked her to have a burger with him back at the motel. Of course, he could’ve sprung for something nicer, and for Maggie he would’ve absolutely gone to the trouble, but this wasn’t about wining and dining this woman, it was about rubbing Maggie’s nose in it. And there was no way to do that if she wasn’t there to see it all go down, so having dinner at the motel where Maggie was staying was ideal. He couldn’t wait to showcase their little flirt-fest in front of her. You asked for it, sweetheart.
Chet was just about ready to pocket the phone when it vibrated, and he took another look at the texts. With any luck it was his Maggie begging him to take her back right now.
Rebecca: I can’t do dinner tonight. I’m sorry. Something came up.
Chet watched the little floating bubbles from Rebecca’s screen and clenched his phone as he tried not to panic. She was still typing, which might mean that he could turn this
around in time. He just had to buck up a little bit. He rolled his shoulders and took a long breath. The little bubbles abruptly stopped again. Then started. And … stopped.
“What the hell are you trying to tell me, woman?” Chet nearly threw down the phone before he got his head in the game enough to write back a reply of some substance.
Chet: What’s wrong, baby girl? Anything I can do to help you?
More of those damn bubbles. They died down again. What the hell’s up with this bitch? At that moment, he didn’t have the patience to be Prince Charming, especially with a throwaway reject who wasn’t his girl in the first place. He was half-tempted to blow Rebecca off altogether, but Chet had exchanged too many texts with this one and had put too much thought into his plans to not get at least a blow job out of it.
Rebecca: Do you want the truth?
Chet nearly drove his fist through the shed’s wall, but he kept it together enough to compose a reply.
Chet: Absolutely, baby girl. Honesty is the most important thing between a man and woman.
More bubbles. He kept his gaze fixed on the barn door.
Rebecca: Ok. I bumped into Roy Mullins and he asked me out. I’m totally into steer wrestlers, and I’ve been following him on the circuit for a while. I’m super sorry. I hope u understand. Maybe if u come back around some other time???
Insecurity clawed and clutched the inside of his chest, and his head pounded as if he’d been struck by a sledge hammer. Humiliation burned across his hairline and the back of his neck as he re-read the text. He gripped the phone as his fingers flew across it.
Chet: Not a chance in hell, CUNT.
He carefully slid it back in his pocket, then walked over to a tree branch that was laying on the ground and picked it up. In less time than it took him to breathe, he let loose all the anger that’d been sitting on his chest since he’d followed Maggie to the stables.