The Cattleman (Sons of Texas Book 2) (15 page)

“Kate here today?”

Drake stiffened. “None of your—”

“Nope,” Pic said quickly.

“She never got her claim settled on her barn, eh?”

Pic stopped mid-step and gave him a look. “How would
you
know?”

The man stopped, too, and raised his palms defensively. “Hey, I’m just making conversation. Troy told me.”

Amanda had never seen Pic so short and rude. She was positive he didn’t know whether Kate was here. She had never seen Drake so uptight. He looked as if he might punch something.

Amanda looked up at Pic. His jaw was set
, his eyes hard. When they reached an entrance to the arena, he said, “See ya, Jordan,” and steered all of them in the direction of the seating.

A few steps down,
Pic caught her elbow and steered her into a row of seats. “Here, baby. Sit here.”

Amanda took the seat on the end of the line so that Pic could sit beside Drake and Steve Logan seated himself behind Shannon and Drake in the row behind them. She leaned in toward Pic and whispered.
“Who was that?”

“Jordan Palmer,” he
answered in a low voice. “Kate used to be engaged to him.”

“Oh, my gosh.”

Amanda knew Kate had been engaged years back, but she had lived in Lubbock at that time, so she had never seen the fiancé and didn’t know his name. Nor did she know what had happened to the engagement. She glanced back across her shoulder to get a second look at the man, but he had disappeared into the crowd. “You don’t like him?” she said to Pic?

“He’s an asshole
. Kate broke up with him, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. Drake kicked his ass.”

Shannon
heard and gave her husband a pointed look. “You had a fight? You’re kidding.”

Pic gave a phony laugh and said to Shannon. “It was years ago. Back in his younger days, Drake had a low tolerance for bullshit.”

That was true. Drake’s short fuse when he was younger was well known in Drinkwell. But as far as Amanda knew, Drake hadn’t been in a fight in years.

“He looks a lot older than Kate,” Amanda said.

“He is. About ten years.”

They hadn’t been seated long before Troy appeared in the arena astraddle a beautiful bay mare. Pic and Drake both sat forward, forearms resting on the back of the
empty seats in front of them, eyes locked on the exquisite horse and rider. The announcer called Troy’s name, the crowd quieted and Troy and his horse began to work.

Amanda, too, sat forward, watching.
She wasn’t an expert on cutting horses, but she had learned enough about them from the Lockharts to enjoy watching them perform. The mare wheeled left and right on her haunches. Her rearend almost touched the ground at times. The beauty, grace and athleticism of cutting horses at this level of competition were fascinating. No wonder people became obsessed with them.

“God, that Troy
,” Drake said. “I haven’t watched him ride since last December. He looks like he’s part of that horse.”

“The horse owners love him,
too,” Pic replied. “They all say the same thing. He’s able to get more out of every horse and do it easier than any trainer they’ve ever had. He’s got the gift.”

Pic knew so much about horses and training horses, though he didn’t do it himself unless it was a horse he planned to ride. Silas Morgan, the horse wrangler at the Double-Barrel, was always saying Pic was the one who should have become a horse trainer.
In today’s venue, Amanda could see the respect people in the horse world had for him. Even as much as Troy in a subtle way.

As they continued to watch Troy and his horse, Drake reminded Pic about talking to him.

Pic shook his head. “I’m not gonna spoil Mandy’s birthday arguing with Troy. It’ll wait until we get back to the ranch. It’s bad enough that he’s set to do something with Jordan Palmer. No telling what that might turn in to.”

“Does the horse belong to
Troy?” Amanda asked.

“Nuh-uh. But he’s been working with her a long time.” Pic nudged Drake’s arm with his elbow. “Look at that, look at that. See how she backs her ears?
She’s got cow for sure.”

“I see it. That calf is not going to get past her.”

Amanda didn’t quite catch the nuance of the performance, but she knew when someone said a horse had “cow,” he meant it had a strong natural instinct to cut cattle. Apparently, not all horses had it. To Amanda, the two-minute performance had appeared to be flawless, but she had to admit, she was preoccupied with what had passed between Pic and his brother and Jordan Palmer.

They parted from Drake and Shannon after the horse show and made their way downtown. They watched an action thriller at a stadium seating theater. All through the movie, Pic’s hand rested on her thigh, building tension. They finished off the day with fantastic food at Texas de Brazil
and Pic insisted that Marcus eat with them.

Then they were on their way back to Drinkwell. “It’s been a great birthday,” she said as they cleared the city.

Pic looked at her over his shoulder, grinning. “It’s not over yet.”

“Did Drake really get in a fight with that Jordan guy?”

“A long time ago. Jordan was spending quite a bit of time at Kate’s house, which kept Dad and Mom in a lather half the time. When Kate decided to end it with him, she wanted him to take his things and leave, but he made a nuisance of himself. Kept Kate bawling every other day. Even threatened her.

“Oh, my gosh. I never knew that. What happened?”

“He did move out finally, but for months afterward he followed her around and wouldn’t leave her alone. He showed up at her house drunk one night and she called the ranch scared. Drake happened to be there, so he went over to talk to him. Drake was in a lot better shape back then. Not a guy you’d want to bristle up to. Guess Jordan made that mistake. Anyway, after that, Jordan left and never came back.”

Amanda was sure that was an abbreviated version of the story. Most of what went on in the Pic-and-Drake Secret Society never got discussed in great detail with those not involved.

“I remember hearing about Drake fighting,” Amanda said.

“
He used to be hell on wheels. After Tammy ditched him and married that golfer, he had a big chip on his shoulder. For a couple of years, nobody could get along with him. He finally settled down, but from that point on, he had a different attitude about women.” Pic reached across the console and pulled her skirt up her thigh. “That’s enough about my brother. You wearing those tiny panties?”

“
Well, yes. Bikini panties are the only kind I have.”

“And they look damn good on you, too.”
He grinned. “They look even better off.” His hand moved up and squeezed the inside of her thigh.

Excitement coursed through her. “Pic, you’re driving.”

“I just wanna play with you.”

“Hah. You just don’t want to discuss your big brother.”

“Talking about him isn’t as much fun as playing with you. Open your legs, baby.”

“Pic, you need to watch the road.”

But as arousal coursed through her, she did spread her thighs, allowing his fingers to find her sex and rub her through the crotch of her panties. Her clitoris began to tingle, her sex clenched. She was suddenly on fire. She could come, right now.

“Hm-hm. You’re wet, darlin’. Just scoot a little closer. Pull your skirt all the way up.”

She obeyed. His fingers pushed her panties aside and stroked between the lips of her sex, now drenched with her moisture. She lifted her hips, making it easier for him for him to rub her. When he found her clit, her legs fell open even wider. She whimpered and grunted as he stroked her to an orgasm that left her weak in the knees.

And through it all, he
hadn’t even slowed down.

You are a sex-crazed slut, Amanda! You’re riding down the highway at eighty miles an hour. Can’t you restrain yourself for even a short while?

He continued to rub her even after she climaxed. “Too bad I’m driving. You could climb on and ride.”

Having been astraddle his lap before, Amanda had no trouble visualizing that image
or remembering how, in that position, his long, thick erection filled her and found her deepest place while his mouth sucked her nipples until she had a shattering climax.

Despite having just come, h
er sex was clenching hungrily and down there, she was trembling. A shiver passed over her shoulders. “Thank God we’ll be home soon. I would hate for us to have to park on the side of the road.”

They went to bed the minute they reached her house.

Chapter
10

The next morning, the gray of daylight eased past the blinds into Amanda’s bedroom. Soundly sleeping, Pic was spooned behind her, his long arms and legs caging her. Pressed against her backside, his erection felt like a warm brick. He was always hard in the morning. She didn’t see how
it was possible after they had made love into the wee hours, but renewed passion stirred within her.

The air conditioning clicked on with a soft r
oar, sending chilly air through the room. She turned in Pic’s arms and snuggled closer, basking in the warmth radiated by his big body. His ambience engulfed her—his distinctive morning scent, as potent as an aphrodisiac, his warm soft skin, his size and strength that made her feel protected. She pressed her nose against his furry chest and drew it all into her body and soul.

Though he hadn’t moved, she couldn’t resist sliding her hand between them and wrapping it around his penis. Fully aroused,
it was so big and thick. She had always marveled that he fit inside her. And that was where she wanted him now, filling her and driving her to another shattering orgasm. She might be sore from two nights of almost non-stop lovemaking, but no matter. He would be leaving her today and she didn’t know when she would be in his arms again.

She skimmed her fingertips over the plump crown of his erection, felt a drop of moisture. He grunted.

She laughed softly, nuzzling his chest. “Penny for your thoughts, fuzzy bear.”

“Mmph,” he mumbled.

She licked his nipples, then scuttled down in the bed, slowly pushing the sheet down as she licked and nibbled her way down his happy trail, all the way to the root of him, again drawing the heady scent of him into her nostrils.

He moaned softly and turned to his back, revealing his beautiful erection, thick, deeply colored and
curving upward toward his navel. She raised up on her elbow and tongued the backside as if it were a lollipop. When she reached the plump head, she molded her lips around it.

A rumbly sound came from deep in his throat and his thigh muscles stiffened. “Don’t make me come,” he mumbled. “Wannna be inside you.”

She loved tormenting him this way. She pressed the tip of her tongue into his tiny slit, then circled the velvety tip. She took her time, gently sucking and savoring the earthy, salty-sweet taste of him.

Growling and stretching, he raised his arms above his head and gripped the stiles in her bed’s headboard. “Careful, baby…I’ll come….”

Not wanting that yet, she pulled her mouth away, then slid her leg across his body and levered astraddle him, took the rigid member in hand and guided it between her thighs, nestled the wide tip between the folds of her sex. His whole body tensed and he groaned.

She slowly glided down on the hard, hot column,
Pain! Pleasure!
Both registering with the equal intensity as her flesh stretched around him. Her tender nerve endings were hypersensitive. A shudder passed through her and her own keening moan filled her throat, but she stopped it.

She leaned over him, her hands bracketing his shoulders. “Did I wake you?”

His mouth spread into a grin, but his eyes still didn’t open. “God as my witness, Mandy. Nothing feels as good as my hard cock inside your sweet pussy on a Sunday morning. Now that you’ve got it, what’re you gonna to do with it?”

She giggled. Until Pic, she hadn’t known she found dirty sex talk a major turn-on. “Any preferences?”

He gave her a wicked chuckle. “Your choice, you wild woman.”

An hour later, after they had exhausted each other in her bed, they were in her tiny shower. They lathered each other with Hollister body wash that she had bought him to use at her house. In reality, she had bought it for herself as well as him. She loved the scent. Pic couldn’t care less
that it was an expensive shower gel. At home, he used whatever Johnnie Sue bought at Walmart, probably on sale.

“On a scale of one to ten, that was an eleven.” he said and kissed her.

“You think so?” She spread lather over his wide shoulders and down his arms. “You must think it was better than Valentine’s Day. Because that was supposed to be a ten.”

“Umm. I dunno. That chocolate was awful good.”

She giggled. With him being impossible to buy a gift for, on Valentine’s day, she had presented him with a small decorated basket holding a bottle of chocolate syrup, a can of whipped cream and a jar of maraschino cherries. As he lay in the middle of her bed, his erection hard as stone and standing tall, she had covered it with chocolate syrup, topped it off with whipped cream and a cherry on top and licked and sucked it clean. He had declared that episode a ten.