Dirty-Talking Cowboy--A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  “Ah,” Colin said, and the awareness on his expression told Shep that Colin had known this day was coming. “Let’s head into the meeting room where we’ve got the space to talk.” Colin strode by them, calmly exiting his office, one hand tucked into his pocket.

  Shep tried his best not to get too far ahead of himself when he followed. Colin had to have had a good reason not to share this news.

  When they entered the meeting room at the end of the hallway, Colin turned to them and said, “I know you’ve come here probably ready to bite my head off. However, let me explain before you do.”

  “We’re listening.” Shep took a seat to the right of the head of the table. Nash next to him. Chase sitting across from them.

  “Your father asked me not to tell you the company was in financial trouble.” Colin took his place at the head of the table. “When he passed, I wanted to give you the time to mourn him before dropping this on you.”

  Shep shared a long look with Chase and Nash before he focused on Colin again. He zeroed in on the only thing that mattered in what Colin said. “Why exactly did our father not want you to tell us?”

  Colin leaned back in his seat, resting his hands on the armrests. “He didn’t want to involve you in all this until we had a solid plan going forward.”

  “What plan?” Nash asked.

  Colin glanced at him. “The day before your dad passed away, your father asked me to schedule a meeting with Clint Harrison. Rick was thinking of selling them some land to get the company back afloat.”

  Shep’s mouth nearly hit the table. He looked between his brothers, finding them in similar states of shock. The Harrisons and Blackshaws were raised to hate each other. Clint Harrison was the competition; a man determined to steal his father’s clients. “I’m having a real hard time believing this,” Shep finally admitted.

  “You’re not alone,” Chase said, a frown marring his face. “Was this Dad’s idea?”

  “It was,” Colin confirmed with a slight nod. “He knew he had to sell to keep the company going after losing some clients to the Harrisons, and that’s what we’ve been working toward for the past few months.”

  Nash cursed and pushed out of his chair, sending it slamming back into the wall. He stormed toward the window, arms folded, glaring at the sky. Always the hothead, Nash would be angrier that his father would dare sell what belonged to the Blackshaw name than that the company was going bankrupt.

  Shep, though, understood. And right now, probably as his father had done, the only person he worried about was his mother. What would she be left with? “Did Harrison agree to the meeting?” he pressed on.

  Colin nodded. “He did, under the assumption that he would only buy the land, not the business.”

  “That fucking prick,” Nash snapped, turning around, his jaw set. “Our land is good enough for them, but they’d shut us down for good.” To Shep, he growled, “There’s no goddamn way we’re doing this.”

  Colin sighed and gestured to Nash with a flick of his chin. “That right there is why you’re father never told any of you. He knew you’d step in and want to become involved, and he respected that you all have your own lives. He didn’t want to burden you with this, or so he told me.”

  Shep leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his mouth, pondering. He searched for the anger Nash had, but he couldn’t find any. Possibly because now he understood where his father came from. Shep wouldn’t go to anyone else for help either. He’d fix the situation himself. “How did Dad feel about shutting down the company and selling the land?”

  Nash growled, “You cannot possibly think this is a good idea?”

  “I’m not thinking anything yet,” Shep growled back. “The only thing I’m thinking is that I want to know what Dad thought.” He glanced Colin’s way and motioned him on. “So, tell me, was Dad content in shutting things down?” Maybe he felt Blackshaw Cattle had run its course, and Shep trusted in his dad’s business sense.

  Colin hesitated then shook his head. “No, he wasn’t happy with any of this; no matter if he thought this was his only choice. He was watching his dream die, and I could tell it upset him.”

  “Good,” Nash piped up. “That means we can shut this talk down immediately. Blackshaw land stays with us.”

  Chase sighed at Nash, then focused on Shep. “I have to say that I’m with Nash on this. There needs to be a way out of this without selling the company, or the land.”

  Again, Shep rubbed his hand against the slight stubble on his jaw. The walls felt tight around him when he glanced Colin’s way. “What are your plans?”

  Colin looked between them then placed his hands flat against the meeting room table. “Listen, guys, I loved your father. I was loyal to him, and I still am. But I also won’t go down with a sinking ship.”

  “I can understand that position,” Shep said, knowing he’d feel the same way. But Colin handled the inner workings of the company. Without him, the company was done. “Though, what if we find a way to bring the company back afloat? Would you stay?”

  “Of course, I would stay. That’s without question,” Colin confirmed, his expression slowly filling with pity. “I know it might be hard for you all to admit this, but this problem is big. This isn’t an easy fix. Your father realized this, which is why he was looking to sell.”

  Chase cursed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Regardless of what he thought, we need to do what’s right here. We’ve got all the employees to think of too. What will happen to them if we close the company?”

  Shep nodded. “We need time to think this through.”

  Colin rose, glancing between the brothers. “I’m not going anywhere right now. Let this sink in, and then decide what you want to do. I’ll be here.”

  Shep stood, offering his hand across the table. “Thank you, Colin.” He turned then, not paying attention to Nash’s rage or Chase’s concern. He had enough to think about without adding their shit onto his. He needed to think, find a way out of his hole.

  Blackshaw Cattle had been a thriving business once. All Shep needed to do was find a way to bring the company back afloat. Blackshaw Cattle might not have ever been his dream, but it was his father’s, and he couldn’t forget that.

  Chapter 9

  Later that afternoon, with the stalls mucked and the animals settled with their afternoon feed, Emma stood at the fence, not moving an inch, barely breathing, her arm stretched out, offering Bentley the carrot in her hand. Danny had delivered the horses, as Shep had said he would, just as Harper was leaving this morning. Since Emma had nothing else to do today, she was damn well determined for Bentley to eat a carrot from her hand. Over the past hour, Bentley had slowly made his way over to her, while she stood there waiting for him to make a move. Each step he took only made Emma’s breathing shallower. She’d been continuing to toss him carrots all day, and he’d finally started eating them, but this time, this time, she needed him to take one from her.

  His black eyes were soft, gentle, while he painstakingly made his way to her. Mimicking what she’d seen of how Shep handled Bentley, she stayed still, not making any jerky movements, not wanting to frighten him away. Just one bite. That’s all she needed him to take, and somehow, she got the feeling if that happened she’d be better too. That no matter how bad things got, you could trust again. God, she needed to see that so bad.

  Bentley took the final step, stretching out his neck, his nose so close to the tip of the carrot. Emma held her breath. Come on, baby, just a bite . . .

  Then it happened.

  Bentley ate half the carrot and took the rest a second later. Emotion spilled out, tears welling, and Emma could do nothing to stop any of it. “That’s a good boy,” she whispered, expecting Bentley to spook, though he stayed put, simply chewing, watching her like this was an everyday thing.

  A weight Emma hadn’t known was there lifted off her shoulders. Maybe she wasn’t so bad at taking care of animals after all. Grams would be thrilled seeing Bentley trusting again. Emm
a imagined there would be tears trailing down Grams’s cheeks, just as there were tears trailing down Emma’s. Of course, when that thought crossed her mind, the tears only came harder. “Now look what you’ve made me do.” She wiped at the tears, and yet they still rained down her cheeks.

  Suddenly, Bentley’s head shot up, ears perked. Emma glanced in his direction, finding Shep striding toward them, a smile on his face. “Ah, I see you’ve made a friend.”

  “I wouldn’t call us friends yet, but at least he’s acting like a horse.” She turned to Bentley quickly, trying to hide her tears from Shep.

  A firm finger tucked under her chin, bringing her gaze to the warmth in his. “Don’t hide, Emma. You don’t ever need to do that with me.”

  Those tears suddenly made everything blurry. She stepped into his arms and buried her face against his chest without even thinking about it. Of course, even Emma knew her emotion wasn’t only about the horse. It was about hope for herself too. Hell, it was probably even about her broken heart, but she wasn’t ready to go there just yet. Shep’s arms came around her tight, and she admitted, “Seeing Bentley trust again would have made Grams very happy.”

  Shep dropped his chin on the top of her head. “It would have, yes. She’d be proud of you.”

  “She would be.” Emma drew in a big deep breath, backed away. Shep kept her close, though, holding her tight to him. “I’m sorry I keep crying on you,” she said with a smile she guessed looked a little sad. “And to think, all I wanted to do was feed a horse a carrot.” She tried laughing, but failed miserably, sounding more like a squeak.

  Shep gave her a knowing look, his fingers brushing over her cheek. “You’re sorry that you thought of your Grams and felt something from that?”

  She nodded.

  He hesitated. “There are many reasons why someone needs to apologize, Emma, but again, feeling how you feel is not something you should ever apologize for.”

  This man . . . She stared up into his gorgeous face, suddenly wondering what she’d done to deserve him. Shep had been here to pick up the pieces of someone else’s mess, and he never once complained or asked for anything in return. Good, strong, caring, she didn’t know men like this. Men who thought of others before themselves. “Thank you for being here for whenever I seem to need you,” she said gently.

  Emotion tightened his brows, his hand sliding across her face. “Darlin’, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  He dropped his chin, and she leaned up to his mouth, suddenly feeling like it was just him and her, and nothing else around them. He gave her the kiss that she was growing fond of. Possessive, full of heat, and dominating, he ruled the kiss, and she melted under the power of such a touch. Soon, she found herself being cradled by him, felt his hard cock resting against her stomach, and in the heat of his touch, she believed him.

  He broke off the kiss, leaving them both breathless. “Expecting any company today?” he asked.

  “No. Why?”

  His eyes narrowed, his voice going low, seductively serious. “Turn around to the fence.”

  She knew that look now, when his eyes became firmer, when his voice held more authority. She spun around in a second, more than ready for what came next. The strength at her back engulfed her as he dragged his hands down her arms then over her hips until he reached around and opened her jean shorts. His hands brushed over her thighs as he dropped to one knee, taking her shorts on his way down. She tightened her hands around the wooden fence, staring at the sand in the ring. Her breath hitched as his fingers slid beneath the rim of her panties, and her pussy clenched in desire when he pulled her panties down, ever so slowly, as if teasing himself as much as he was her.

  “Sweetheart, all day I’ve been thinking of this.” His groan when he parted her bottom open sent a hot flush rushing through her. “Thinking of tasting you.”

  Her nipples puckered under that gravelly raw need in his voice. She tried to find embarrassment for exposing her like this where anyone could see him. Truth was, she wanted him to look. To be so admired, how could she not want to be whatever he needed her to be?

  His next groan when he squeezed her bottom with his big, strong hands caused her clit to throb. “You drive me crazy, Emma.” He slapped one cheek, then the other. “Always there on my mind.” She gasped when those slaps continued, one after the other, only growing harder each time. “In my thoughts.” Her skin warmed, awakened, even. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Her eyes fluttered shut when his swats became different, seemingly more focused. The slaps were right on top of each other, almost strategically placed, drawing heat and warmth down low in her body, bringing all her focus there. She squirmed against the burn on her bottom, against the heaviness in her womb, and she couldn’t stop moaning, desperate for him to take her higher.

  Shep chuckled, sliding a hand between her thighs, gathering up her arousal then sliding the silkiness across her warm bottom. All to prove how wet he made her from a spanking, of that she was sure. He nipped at her butt. “Christ, Emma, I want you.”

  “Then take me,” she gasped.

  “Ah, darlin’, I plan to fuck you, but I already told you, I want to taste you.” He squeezed her bottom. “Arch your back.” Raw masculine lust echoed in his groan, and to be the reason for his arousal made her crave his cock now more than ever. He gave one final hard slap, and then all that heat only burned deeper when she felt his tongue slowly licking across her slit. Shamelessly, she arched her back farther, giving him access to all of her.

  He took full advantage.

  Her breath whooshed out as the flat of his tongue slid through her folds, stroking her clit. Her eyes shut, and she dropped her head against her hands on the fence, while he played, expertly drawing out her pleasure. Every so often he’d add in another slap, dragging her from the euphoria and yet somehow taking her higher all the same, until she was trembling, unable to lift her head, so lost in the place he’d taken her, moaning into the pleasure.

  Two more hard swats left her gasping and quivering against his mouth. He rose, and she glanced back, seeing him reaching into his wallet and grabbing out a condom. He tossed his wallet to the ground then opened his belt. His jeans fell to his cowboy boots a second later, and he applied the condom. His strong hold gripped her hips, and then he was inside her, giving her all she needed, and she moaned. Her legs trembled when he fisted his hand in her hair, tilting her head back until he leaned over her, his mouth right by her ear. His groans became all she heard while he pumped into her, slamming his pelvis against her warm ass. This wasn’t lovemaking, this was something so much dirtier, and she wanted more.

  “Yes. Harder,” she begged.

  He froze, one hand on her hip, the other controlling the position of her head. His voice brushed against her ear. “You want to come, darlin’?”

  “Yes.” She moaned, her inner walls convulsing around his shaft.

  He slowly slid in and out, right to the tip. “Ah, but, darlin’, we can do better, don’t you think?”

  Oh my, she was so close. Right there. Her legs quaked now, her body seemingly no longer belonging to her, her pussy a vise grip against his shaft. “Shep,” she breathed.

  His rough laugh brushed against her ear. God, he was enjoying this. Again, she tried to move her head. When that failed, she rocked her hips. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He released her hip to slap her ass. Hard. “Fuck me.”

  She rocked back against him, trying to get there herself, needing to claim the climax so close and yet so far away.

  His swats on her bottom continued, until those slaps were right on top of each other. Her legs were no longer trembling; every part of her body was quivering. Only then did he reach for her hip again, pulling on her hair, angling her head back farther. It should have hurt. There was no pain. She soared into foreign pleasure, climbing higher and higher, until her moans were near gasps.

  Then it all became too much.

  Her muscles tightened, her breath gone.

/>   Another swat. Then he growled, “This is how I want you, losing your fucking mind.” His fingers dug into her hip, then he unleashed himself, pumping into her until everything he built up, all the coiled tension his touch delivered, exploded into her screams while she crashed over the edge, shutting her eyes, falling into the darkness and euphoria of his touch.

  She vaguely heard him roaring behind her, bucking and jerking his orgasm.

  Many minutes passed. His fist was now gone from her head, his arm wrapped around her belly, the only way she remained on her feet.

  Finally, when she could speak again, she laughed softly. “I must be dreaming. Or am in a coma or something because of the accident with Bentley? You cannot be real.”

  He chuckled in her ear, breathless, yet still deep inside her, obviously enjoying the way her inner walls pulsed against him. “Now you’re just sucking up.”

  “Will that mean more orgasms for me?”

  “Yes.”

  She turned her head, spotting his sexy grin, and laughed. “Then I’m perfectly fine with sucking up, kissing your ass, or whatever else you might want me to do, as long as you keep doing that to me.”

  He pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder. “Ah, sweetheart, now that’s a deal.”

  * * *

  With Emma inside the house now preparing dinner, her sweet taste still on his tongue, Shep opened the gate to the sand ring, moving toward Tadgh. The horse stretched out his neck, and Shep stroked the soft hair under his hands. His morning had been long, and losing himself inside of Emma was exactly what he needed to pull the strain back in. There was a lot to figure out, and he needed to decide on what steps to take forward, but right now, he wasn’t thinking of anything but how much he enjoyed Emma. She was a nice distraction.

  Tadgh snorted, nudging his nose into Shep, dragging him from his thoughts. He ran his hand up the horse’s face. “Yeah, bud, I know, you’re missing home.” He stabled Tadgh at the ranch, mainly to keep him with the large herd. He stroked down over Tadgh’s snout. “I’ll get you back to Fiona soon enough.” Fiona was the mare that Tadgh followed and defended, often. Being a gelding, there wasn’t much Tadgh could do to put Fiona into foal, but that didn’t seem to bother Tadgh or Fiona. They were madly in love and had been from the day they were introduced.