Nightfall (12 page)

Over the next five minutes, he worked his cock in his hand,
the shower steam still misting his flesh. During that time, Robert returned,
she worked out a freaking new order schedule with him and told him to check the
cooling lines on their tap system. When Quinn came at her veiled order, “Yes,
boss. Now’s the perfect time,” he barely had time to cover himself with a towel
to save a night of mopping up the floor.

While he was still catching his breath, she put Robert on
the line so he could verify she was the new barkeep and not some wet-dream
fantasy who’d wandered in straight from the pages of every guy’s fave skin mag.
Robert didn’t put it that way, but Quinn was sure that was what he was
thinking. It sure as hell was what he was thinking. He managed the, “Hey, Bob,
yeah she’s my new help, and unless she asks for the freaking moon, we’re all
good.” Though he might just give her the entire universe, not just the moon.
Selene took the phone back from Robert.

“All right, sounds like we’re all done, Mr. Pedraza. Call me
back if you need me again.” The connection was cut.

It wasn’t until about an hour later he started having weird
feelings about it. Yeah, typical guy, getting off, then having regrets. But
Jesus, while she was dealing with a vendor? He wished he could go see her
tonight, but it just wasn’t in the cards. He still had a few hours to go on
paperwork for the ranch and a full day tomorrow. He sighed, put his head in his
hands. In a matter of a few days, he’d gotten himself hung up in a pretty
complicated set of feelings. Having those feelings for someone who worked for
him was never a good idea.

Once again he was back to the idea it was probably good to
put some physical distance between them. So he promised himself no more phone
calls. At least until he actually had time to go see her again.

The next morning, the men rode out early to get the herd
moving. One of the hands called and told him they had finished mending a broken
spot in the fence on the north pasture and were getting ready to drive the
cattle there. While Quinn knew they would have done their usual efficient job
and didn’t need his stamp of approval, he was tired of wrestling with paperwork
and forcing himself to leave the telephone alone. Checking out the repairs
provided the perfect excuse to take in some steadying solitude.

The sun was bathing everything in its warm golden glow when
he saddled Midnight and headed out of the barn. He didn’t take his phone with
him, on purpose. As he rode out through the meadows waiting to be filled by
part of the herd, he drew the air deep in his lungs, let the underlying quiet
beneath the sounds of nature ease his mind, his gut.

He walked Midnight along the fence, checking for other weak
spots, but at a certain point, he closed his eyes, let Midnight walk about a
quarter mile, his mind lulled by the horse’s movement. When Quinn finally
opened his eyes, he found one small detail in the landscape had changed. One
that made him smile.

“Well, looks like there’s more than one of you after all. Must
be a new strain.”

It was the same type of butterfly he’d seen a few days
before. Midnight’s ears flickered as the delicate winged insect beat a
determined track right for the two of them, almost emanating the attitude,
“Why
on earth did I have to bring my ass all the way out here to find you?”

Bemused, Quinn watched the creature perch right on his
rein-wrapped hand on the pommel, just as before. It fluttered its wings,
settling down. It was rare a man got to look at a butterfly this up close and
personal, so still, and in his current contemplative state, he was impressed,
almost hypnotized by its beauty, by the subtle blending of the colors. The
usual tracery of black was missing. Every butterfly he’d ever seen had at least
a touch of it in its palette, but not this one.

Keeping still, he cast his gaze around, seeking others, but
didn’t find any. Weird. They always traveled in flights, never alone. Not that
he remembered.

He lifted his hand, expecting the delicate creature to
skedaddle, and was surprised it stayed in place. When he flexed his fingers,
moving the knuckle the butterfly rested on, instead of skittering off, it
fluttered its wings. Hovered in front of him before coming to rest on his
shoulder.

He freed his hands from the reins, knowing Midnight would
stay still until bid otherwise, though the horse’s ears were swept back, as if
listening with animal radar to the silent byplay between his master and the
intriguing insect. Quinn turned his hand palm up, realizing he was holding his
breath. The butterfly lifted off, floated down and landed right in the cup of
his hand.

He stared at it. Slowly, he closed his fingers into a curved
basket around it. It didn’t move. At the faint brush of the wings, he opened
his grasp, remembering something about a human touching a butterfly’s wings
could take away its ability to fly. The thought gave him a moment of
consternation, then the butterfly lifted off, relieving him.

A piercing whistle caught his attention and he looked up to
see the mass of cattle coming up over the crest of the hill, the hands in loose
formation around them.

“Well look at that. I timed that just right, little lady. I
assume you’re a little lady. You just don’t strike me as a guy.”

When he moved to unlatch the gate so the herd could move
through, he expected the butterfly to whisk away, but it sat on his shoulder,
now on his hat, now performing a delicate dance around his head. When it landed
once on Midnight’s forelock, he tightened his grip on the reins, expecting the
big black gelding to protest. But the magnificent animal just twitched his ears
and bobbed his head once, as if having a private conversation with the little
creature.

Okay, now I am really losing my mind.

It remained in its place even as he backed Midnight away out
of the swarm of cattle. Then, once he was clear, it went back to resting on his
hand. He kept it as still as possible, giving it that resting spot as he called
out direction to the men. Fortunately, none were close enough to notice, so he
didn’t have to explain what the hell he was doing playing with butterflies.

When Kevin brought lunch out to them in the four-wheel
pickup, Quinn dismounted and waited for the butterfly to move off. Instead it
simply changed its position, settling on the brim of his Stetson. A strange
feeling whispered through his system. The men made a joke about it, and Kevin
lifted a hand to swat at it. “Let me take care of that, boss.”

Quinn caught his arm, quick as he’d rope a calf out of the
shoot. A startled look crossed Kevin’s face, and Quinn swallowed, hoping the
dull flush he thought was on his face wasn’t. “Don’t. It’s bringing me luck.
Haven’t had a damn thing go wrong since it showed up a few days ago.” Because
he was somehow sure it was the same one.

Well, at least that was something cowhands understood. They
all had their superstitions, and though they ribbed him about it, not a one of
them did anything like Kevin had again. They started looking a little amazed
themselves at the way the butterfly stayed with him, just doing that gentle
wing pump, sometimes barely moving at all.

“I think it’s tired, boss,” Dave said, pointing with his
fork. “I saw one once get all buffeted about by a windy day, and when it
lighted on a protected branch, it did just like that. The wing movement’s like
them catching their breath.”

“Well, last time I saw it, it was clear on the other side of
the property, so maybe it had a big trip today.” Taking of his hat, Quinn set
it on the rock next to him so he could study the creature. Per his request,
Kevin had brought him his phone, so Quinn took a picture of the insect,
examined it. He made it into his screen background, because he liked looking at
it. He’d show it to Selene, tell her it had her eye color.

Damn, he missed that woman. Today was the last day they had
to work such long hours. He was going to go see her at After Hours. No, forget
that. He was going to call her, offer to take her out to dinner Sunday night.
She was new in town and he’d been a selfish bastard, making it all about the
sex and not being a proper gentleman. Never mind she hadn’t seemed to mind
making some pretty hefty sexual demands herself, a man knew the right thing to
do by a woman. He wasn’t going to call her in front of all his men, and by the time
he got back, she’d be hip deep in the bar’s operating hours. He’d send her a
text, even though that wasn’t as proper as asking her voice to voice. Truth, he
wanted to call her for a reason other than whacking off.

He typed out a quick text.
Like to take you to dinner
Sunday night. Place that has good music.

He closed the phone, put it aside. She was probably
sleeping, wouldn’t answer until later tonight. When she did, she’d probably
tell him she’d already arranged to have musical entertainment at the bar,
because he knew she was working on that. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d
gotten Alan Jackson himself. The woman seemed capable of anything.

“Boss is grinning like he’s thinking about a woman,” Johnny
said. “We know which one.”

“Which is why we can’t blame him for grinning like a fool.”
Kevin elbowed him. “She’s only been here a few days and every man in the county
has an eye for her.”

Quinn scowled at that, and they all chuckled at his obvious
displeasure.

“Looks like boss has already put his brand on her,” Dave
said.

If they only knew. Quinn thought it far more likely that
Selene was thinking of putting a brand on his flanks. He better not plant that
idea in her head, though his buttock gave an alarming little tingle at the
idea, echoed by a turgid response from his cock. Yep, he’d definitely lost his
mind.

“She seems to like him okay. Though she had Turley stay
after hours last night and help her move some boxes around, and all he
remembers about it is waking up with a smile on his face.”

Quinn pinned him with a dark look. “What the fuck’s that
supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, boss.” Kevin’s face shifted to uncertainty. “We’re
just messing with you. I’m sure he was just helping her move boxes.”

“Time to get back to work,” Quinn said shortly, rising and
picking up his hat. The butterfly had apparently had her rest. She lifted off,
all the men likewise stirring themselves for the grueling afternoon ahead.
Quinn watched the delicate creature float away, then returned to Midnight.

He couldn’t explain his possessive feelings toward a woman
he’d barely just met, but in truth, when he spent time with a woman, even if he
wasn’t planning to set up house together, he expected it to be just the two of
them until one or the other called it quits. He put the image out of his mind
of the husky Turley coming anywhere near that lush body, feeling the tips of
her fangs at his throat…

Midnight snorted as he mounted and sat his ass in the saddle
a little harder than he’d intended. “Sorry, boy.”

He had a busy day ahead. His best strategy was to work
himself into full exhaustion by the end of it so he wouldn’t have enough energy
to wind himself up over stupid shit like this.

* * * * *

Mission accomplished.

He barely got enough of a shower to wash off the muck before
falling face forward into the bed. He’d contemplated just sleeping in the barn
and saving the cleanup, but the bed was too inviting to pass up. Christ, his
past life as a rodeo cowboy had a way of hitting him hard on the more strenuous
ranch days. He wasn’t twenty anymore, yet now he felt every stupid thing he’d
done to himself between twenty and thirty.

He was an easy sleeper, his internal timer rigged to wake
him up when it was time to get up. He didn’t do a lot of waking up in the
middle of the night. Unless something was amiss. His eyes opened in darkness,
the clock reading two a.m. in his peripheral vision. And he knew he wasn’t
alone.

The funny thing was the lack of alarm he felt. He’d known it
was her even before he’d opened his eyes, which suggested he was still sleeping,
dreaming.

“Aren’t vampires supposed to be invited before they come
into someone’s house?” he said groggily.

“That’s a myth to make people feel safer.” Selene gazed at
him from the foot of his bed. “You wouldn’t invite me into your home?”

“My house, my bed. Anywhere you want to be. How’d you get
in?”

“Came down the chimney.”

“Like Santa Claus. A sexy, blonde Santa.”

As she moved around to the side of the bed, he saw her
suppress a smile. He was so out of it, he was like a drunk, saying whatever came
to mind. He turned toward her, biting back a groan at his stiff muscles, but he
wanted to see her. She stopped just out of reach, still studying him. “You
haven’t come to me in three days. I got impatient.”

“I wouldn’t have been worth much to you. Been working my ass
off. Probably not much good to you tonight.”

“Turn over onto your stomach,” she said.

He flashed on what she’d said on the phone, about fucking
him that way. The surge of worry and anticipation woke him up a little more.
But she didn’t appear to be carrying any strap-ons with her. All she wore was a
thin, short dress, and she was barefoot.

He complied and the mattress shifted as she slid onto it.
She tugged his sheet all the way down. “You do sleep bare-assed naked,” she
said, amusement in her voice. “I like that.”

Then she straddled his thighs and began to give him a
massage, starting at his neck and shoulders and working her way down. It was
fucking bliss. He practically whimpered but managed to choke back the unmanly
sound. He realized when she sat down on his legs that he wasn’t the only one
bare-assed. She was naked under the dress. It made him realize, though she was
any man’s dream, she was not a dream. She was really here, in his room.

He turned, and she adjusted so he could be on his back,
looking up at her. She stayed on his thighs, but he stretched out his longer
arms, slid her up so he could take a better hold of her. It put her right on
the length of his stiff cock, but that wasn’t his intent. He just wanted her
closer.

“Christ, I missed you,” he murmured. “I wish I wasn’t so
tired.”

She pressed her mouth against the palm he had cupping the
side of her face, and then rotated her hips. His dick, brainless as it was,
just got harder.

“Honey, I—” He couldn’t do right by her tonight. But she’d
come all the way out here. He needed to try.

“Ssh.” She shook her head at him. “It’s not a matter of you
being able to give, Quinn. I’m your Mistress, and I take when and what I
desire. It’s that simple. You’re going to learn I’m not going to be denied.
Your only job is to follow the flow of the current.”

She lowered herself onto his body, breasts against his
chest, and rotated her hips again. She was able to fit the head of his cock
into the mouth of her pussy, and then she was sliding down on him, inch by
inch, her face so close to his. He stared up into her eyes, gripped her hips,
and then he was hilt deep in her, her so still, their bodies fused together.
The quiet darkness of the room closed around them. Powerful as his growing
arousal was, the energy between their locked gazes was ten times that.

“I almost called you a hundred times.”

“You should have.”

“You have a bar to run. And I happen to know your boss is a
real bastard.”

She smiled at that, put her mouth on his. It was a slow,
deep kiss, and he wondered if she lost herself in it as much as he did, because
it seemed to go on for quite a while. They made incremental movements on one
another, stoking that joining point down below, but their mouths nipped,
played, flirted then dove deep, that all-absorbing rhythm of motion and timing
to a really good kiss. By the time it was over, her hands were fisted in his
hair and he had his arms banded across her back, one hand sliding down to cup
her buttock, stroke the silk of it as she moved on him.