Stripped Down (9 page)

Since she’d exercised Plato first thing this morning, she checked him for any new marks after being cooped up in the horse trailer. Sometimes the temperamental horse would kick the walls and she’d open up the back end to see him bleeding. But he didn’t look worse for the wear, so she fed him and turned him loose.

The next thing Mel did was open the house and cart all of her stuff inside, dumping it in the guest bedroom. She wanted to set the parameters from day one. She couldn’t wait to fuck Wynton in every way she’d fantasized about—okay, maybe she had actually written down a list of all the positions and scenarios she wanted to try with Super Man-Slut—but she would be sleeping and waking up alone every night.

You are such a chicken-shit. Why don’t you just tell him the truth?

Because she didn’t want to blow a good thing. Sexually, they seemed to be on the same page, and that was all that mattered.

She stowed her insulin in the back of the closet. She hid her blood sugar meter in the same drawer as the Glucagon emergency kit. She filled the nightstand drawer with her new best friend—a constant supply of snacks. Then she unpacked her clothes and put them away. She set up her laptop, her cell phone charger, and her e-reader. She spread her toiletries out on the counter in the bathroom across the hallway, including the brand new, unopened jumbo-sized box of condoms.

Then she allowed herself to explore.

Wynton’s house was a four-bedroom ranch with a decent-sized living room, and a kitchen that opened into the dining room. Off the dining room was a patio that was completely enclosed by an eight-foot tall fence. The space was homey, although a few things didn’t fit. Like the rooster-imaged ruffled curtains in the kitchen and the peach-colored walls in the living room. But the gigantic TV and gaming system, and the oversized recliners and couch did scream bachelor.

One place she didn’t even peek into was the closed door at the opposite end of the hallway from her room. It seemed…intrusive to check out Wynton’s bedroom when he wasn’t here.

And since she had no idea what time he’d arrive, she carried in the groceries she’d packed in the cooler and took stock of his pantry. Good thing she stopped at the store.

Mel had just finished the chicken stir-fry when she heard the front door open.

* * * *

The wait for the doctor’s diagnosis today had been nerve-racking. But the good news had been such a relief. His dad had a new diet and exercise regimen. He had eight weeks off to recover because he would make a full recovery.

Before they’d had a chance to celebrate, Jim Grant had announced to his family that he intended to retire from ranching entirely. Starting immediately. Then he’d given Wyn and Cres the option of dividing the land in half. They could each run their own operation, or they could continue to ranch together. He’d take his cut of the cattle sale from this year and then after that, he was out. He planned to fulfill his promise to his wife to see the world. And as soon as he was healthy enough, they’d be off to have the adventures they’d waited a lifetime to experience.

Talk about floored.

Wyn was glad to have several hours to try to sort through everything. But by the time he pulled into his driveway just after dark, he was more than ready to put it all aside and focus on the sweet, hot and sexy redhead he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind the past thirty-six hours. The sweet, hot and sexy redhead who was in his house right now. The sweet, hot and sexy redhead who had left the porch light on for him.

Warmth spread through him. It made him a fucking sap, but he hadn’t had anyone leave the light on for him since he lived at home. And if the woman had cooked supper? He might just propose to her.

He was so eager to see her he didn’t haul in his suitcase. He took the steps two at a time and burst through the door. From the foyer, while he took off his boots, he yelled, “Honey, I’m home.” When he rounded the corner, Melissa stood in his living room, her wild curls pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a workout top that showcased her tits, yoga pants—thank you baby Jesus for the genius who invented
those
motherfuckers—and her feet were bare. She looked completely at home in his home.

“Hey. How was the drive?”

“Long.”

“How’s your dad?”

“Better than we thought, on the road to a full recovery and makin’ big plans.” He started to stalk her. “Tell me, little redheaded riding girl, what’s that delicious smell?”

“I cooked stir-fry but the rice isn’t done yet.”

“Good. We have time.”

Melissa took a step back. “For?”

“For you to tell me why you were trespassing in my kitchen.”

“Are you the big bad wolf, Wynton?”

“Yes.” He continued slowly moving forward. “Here’s where you say, ‘Oh my, what big teeth you have.’”

Her gaze zeroed in on his mouth. “Why are you licking your lips?”

“Because you look mighty tasty.”

“But I cooked!”

“Don’t want food, Red. I want you.” Then he was looming over her. The sexy glint in her eyes widened his predatory grin. “Strip off them britches.”

Her half-hearted “No” had him wrestling her to the floor. He hovered on all fours above her. “Don’t be scared, Red. My big teeth and long wicked tongue are all the better to eat you with. Now take off those pants or I’ll tear them off.”

Ten seconds later, her bottom half was completely bared to him.

“Drop your knees open. Show me all of you.”

Her hesitation vanished.

“My, what a pretty pussy you have.” Wyn lowered his head and lapped at the sticky, sweet goodness at the entrance to her body. “I want to fuck you with my mouth, Melissa.”

“Yes.”

He saw no need to hurry. He explored, mapping her folds with his tongue. He licked fast, then slow. He suckled her pussy lips together, then separately. He grazed her clit with his teeth. By the time he knew the taste of her and the shape of her beneath his mouth, he also knew what maneuver his tongue could do to get her to buck her hips up. Now it was time to know what she sounded like when she came against his face, just how hard she could pull his hair, and how many times he could make her come before she begged him to stop.

Ten minutes later, he had the answers to those questions, and more.

Melissa made a timeout sign.

Wyn chuckled against the top of her thigh.

“You are a menace with that mouth,” she panted.

“Come on, Amazing Slut-Girl, you can take some more.”

She shook her head. “Not with that lizard-like tongue, Super Man-Slut. But that cock of yours?” She smirked, fished a condom out of her cleavage and flicked it at him. “Bring it on home, baby.”

He’d never gotten undressed that fast. He was suited up, on her, and in her. She was hot, slick, tight, and perfect. As he rocked into her, she licked and nipped at his lips, searching his mouth for a taste of herself, which was so fucking sexy, he couldn’t stand it.

Then her hands were in his hair, clutching his ass, reaching between them to cup his balls—Christ that felt good.

Melissa arched her back and moaned, “Harder. As hard as you can. I’m close again.”

A dozen more deep strokes that sent her sliding across the carpet and she came undone.

Her moment of bliss was a beautiful thing to watch.

When that moment came for him, the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was the same greedy look on her face that he knew had been on his when she’d unraveled.

After he was spent, he buried his face in her neck. And blew a raspberry until she shrieked and pushed him away.

She’d left the light on for him, jumped onboard for hot, welcome home sex right on the damn carpet, and she’d cooked for him.

This cohabitating thing might be better than he thought.

Chapter Six

After they finished eating, Wyn said, “Level with me. You haven’t been competing this year.”

Melissa wiped her mouth and set her napkin on the table. “Not since March. Partially because I burned out on it. Partially because London wasn’t on the circuit anymore. Partially because I realized my life hadn’t changed in the past seven years. I decided to take a break.”

“That’s understandable. But why did you hedge when I asked you about it?”

She shrugged. “It’s gotten to be a habit. I’m really glad for the chance to try something different.”

“And I can’t wait to show my appreciation for all your hard work.” He waggled his eyebrows.

 “So can you give me an idea on what to expect, rancher man?”

“We’ve left the cattle in the summer grazing areas as long as possible. Starting the day after tomorrow, we’ll move them into pastures closer to home. That’s always traumatic for the cattle, so they’ll need five days to get back up to a saleable weight. Then we’ll start separating and loading them. We have different places that take them, and they have set times when they’ll accept shipments, so the shipping process seems endless.”

“So we’ll all be on horseback?”

“For the cattle drive, we’ll take the horse trailer and horses to the edge of the summer grazing area. We’ll unload the horses and start driving cattle out of there. One thing that sucks is we’ll have to cross two roads, but they’re not paved roads and we’ve never had a run-in with a car. Then after the cattle are settled, we’ll come back, ditch the horses, and two of us will drive out to retrieve the horse trailer. Usually Dad is the one who does that. He also drives ahead and opens the gate so we don’t have to stop the cattle and make them wait. But we’ll have to figure something else out since we’re shorthanded—even with our hot, new cutting horse expert helping out.”

Melissa smiled at him. “Flattery will not get me up at the butt crack of dawn to open gates for you, cowboy.”

“Maybe I’ll make so much noise in the bedroom that you’ll have no choice but to get up.”

“I have zero problem locking my door at night to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

Wyn frowned. “You locking me out of my own bedroom?”

“No, because I won’t be sleeping in your room, Wynton.”

“Explain that.”

“I’m set up in the guest bedroom. I have no problem fucking when and where the mood strikes us, but when it’s time to sleep…to be blunt, I want my own space. You’ve lived alone long enough that you’ll probably need your own space too—you just don’t know it yet. I’ll be here three weeks. I don’t want to wear out my welcome on the third day because I’ve strewn my girl stuff all over your bedroom and bathroom. And some nights I can’t sleep, so I’m up late reading.”

She had an excuse to cover all the bases. He couldn’t argue with them, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try like hell to change her mind. He pushed his empty plate back. “So what are we doin’ the rest of the night?”

“Dishes first.” She kissed his nose. “Ain’t domestic life bliss?”

* * * *

The next morning, Wyn hauled his ass out of bed at first light. He and Cres did chores without saying much besides mumbling every once in a while. They stopped by their folks’ place to see how Dad was faring. He was tired—and annoyed by the “no ranch work” edict—so for the first time in years, they talked about other things over lunch. Wyn didn’t leave in a rush because he was dodging his mom’s questions about his relationship with Melissa, he was just anxious to hang out with her the rest of the day.

Once he got back to his house, he felt stupid, coming home early, expecting she’d drop everything and want to spend time with him. She was here as a favor to them to do ranch work. Since her help wasn’t needed yet, he had no right to assume she’d want to spend her free time with him.

She sat cross-legged on his couch with her laptop and looked up, beaming a smile at him. “Hey. You done already?”

“For now. Why?”

“Because I want you to take me for a joy ride across the ranch in your truck, cowboy.”

His heart simultaneously stopped and exploded with hope. “For real?”

“Unless you want to ride horses to show me the sights?”

“Nope. Let’s go.” Wyn would drag this afternoon out. Show her every nook and cranny, every field and stream, every rocky ridge and meadow of this place he loved.

Melissa proved to be an excellent gate opener, and she was properly awed by the ranch. That earned her brownie points when he parked in his favorite secluded spot and undressed her.

The times they’d been intimate had been fast and intense. For this go around, Wyn wanted slow. Maybe a little sweet.

His new roomie proved herself to be excellent at slow and sweet, with lazy kisses and lingering caresses.

Afterward, when they were both sweaty and spent on the seat of his truck, he kissed her chest as they spiraled down from the orgasmic high together.

“We’re going to wear each other out,” she murmured in his hair.

Wyn didn’t see a problem with that. “Is that a challenge?”

She groaned. “Not today. I wouldn’t mind going back. I need to make a phone call and then I want to exercise Plato.”

“Okay. But, baby you gotta move off my lap and let go of my hair so I can drive.”

“Oh. Right.”

He loved that dazed look in her eyes, knowing he’d put it there.

* * * *

Two nights later, after another nutritious—and surprisingly delicious meal—Wyn broke out the PlayStation 4 and they played Borderlands.

“I’m surprised you’re a gamer,” he said.

“There’s not a lot of other things to do on the road once I get the rig parked for the night.”

Wyn smirked at her. “You ain’t out rounding up a one-night rodeo for yourself every night? For shame, Amazing Slut-Girl. I’m disappointed.”

“My cooter is way more selective these days.” She shifted on the couch. “And dude, I’ve never had this much sex, consistently with the same guy. My cooter is clapping with joy, at the same time she’s like…you expect me to take the ground and pound twice daily
and
get chafed in the saddle all day? Pass the ice pack, please.”

He laughed. Christ. She made him laugh like no other woman he’d ever met. And laughing with her so much felt damn good. “You sayin’ you want me to dial it back?”