STORY EXCERPT

Ethan entered the confined space in the stall with her. His scent immediately enveloped her, a subtle, musky cologne. It was the essence of masculinity. She tried to shuffle over, but the hay trough was in her way. He was so much taller than she was, making her feel both short and fat.

“Give me your hand,” he said. She did as ordered, lifting her hand up by the wrist. He guided her to the stirrup, assisting her in flipping the leather over the top of the saddle. His hand was huge and work roughened. She couldn’t help but entertain inappropriate fantasies. Then she recalled that it wasn’t wrong for her to have healthy, sexual thoughts. She was single, free, not burdened to stifle her sexuality any longer. “First you have to loosen the tether strap. Here.” He moved her hand like she was a child, instructing her step by step. She liked it. He didn’t rush or sound impatient. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say his movements were almost sensual. But that was impossible. Men and Rachel did not mix, not with her extra fifty pounds and complete lack of confidence.

“Good girl,” he said once the straps were unfastened. “Then we put the saddle on the wooden horse in the tack room.” He reached up and hefted the solid Western saddle off the back of the horse. Was she expected to be able to lug those heavy things to the tack room every day? But if she let him do everything for her, she’d never get the job.

“I should take that,” she said, following after him.

“I ain’t letting a slight thing like you carry this.” He disappeared into a dim room with sliding wooden doors.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly slight. And Wyatt won’t give me this job if I don’t pull my own load.”

After her eyes adjusted to the minimal lighting in the tack room, the heavy hay dust made her sneeze. She looked around for him, not noticing he stood right beside her. Rachel jumped and instinctively began to walk backward, away from Ethan. It was his eyes. He stared at her with such intensity that her breath caught. Only she wasn’t afraid of him.

“We’ve never had a woman handler on the ranch. It’s hard work. Too hard for you.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. I can do anything I set my mind to.” She’d just left a dead relationship after years of abuse. She should get a medal for courage and another for all her pain and suffering. There was no way she’d lose this opportunity because she was a woman. She wasn’t tiny and could likely do a lot more manual labor than he expected.

“Okay then, darlin’. You handle the next horse. I’ll just watch.”

Rachel agreed, determined to prove she could be an asset after a little guidance. She walked back to the main aisle and entered the second stall. This time the sun was lower in the sky, and dusk wasn’t far off. Unlike the city, there would be no endless sea of streetlights creating an artificial glow. A mental clock continually counted down. She didn’t want to be sent away in the darkness of night.

Rachel flipped over the stirrup of the second saddle the way she’d been shown. This horse was black and more spirited than the last. She was certain her luck was about to run out and the horse would try to kick or bite. Her entire body was stiff from nerves as she fought with the intricate knot in the tether strap. Why did her fingers have to shake so much?

After standing on the sidelines quietly the entire time, Ethan finally broke out in laughter. She was shocked, turning to face him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Sorry, darlin’, I shouldn’t laugh at you.” He stepped in, pressing his body next to hers, and ran his hand over the horse’s eyes while whispering something in its ear. The horse calmed almost instantaneously. “There. He’ll behave for you now.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him how he should treat a lady.”

She bit her lower lip, flattered beyond measure. But allowing herself to fall for sweet words would only lead to heartbreak—or another doomed relationship. She’d loved Jason once upon a time. Unlike fairy tales, the hero’s charm vanished at midnight, too, never to be found again.

After she managed to get the saddle unfastened, Ethan reached for it. She stopped him, setting her palm over his bicep, her fingers lingering longer than necessary. “Don’t. I have to do this, remember?”

He shrugged. “Okay, baby girl. Go for it.” Ethan stepped back and crossed his heavily muscled arms over his chest.

She reached up on her tiptoes, barely able to grab the base of the saddle with both hands. The horse was huge, making the task more difficult than necessary. Plucking it off effortlessly like Ethan had was impossible. Instead, she tugged it to the side, letting it slide down to her, saddle blanket and all. When it was time for her to grab the weight of it, she was not prepared for such a load. Just when she expected to drop it, her cowboy hero saved the day again.

“Thank you,” she said, embarrassed that she’d failed to prove herself.

“Like I said, I won’t let a slight thing like you carry a saddle.” He winked.

Rachel was growing more comfortable around Ethan already, her inner voice telling her he wasn’t a theat. “Have you never seen a fashion magazine way out here? Those women are slight, not me.”

She tagged after him, back in the dark, dusty room where the saddles were kept. With minimal light from the main bay doors filtering in, shadows dominated the far corners. “I know a real woman when I see one,” said Ethan, his voice barely above a whisper. He pinned her against the wall after setting down the saddle, invading her personal space without apology. “A man needs someplace soft to put his hands.”

ADULT EXCERPT

They lowered her to the bed, her feet still on the floor as she rested her head on the mattress. She wasn’t sure what they kept talking about. She was at the ranch for a job, not sex. Did women usually flock here for a chance to bed one of the delectable cowboys? She didn’t want to be seen in such a light. What she wanted was love, a sense of belonging, so much more than one night of passion. But she expected this was the best she’d get, and her libido wouldn’t let her refuse their advances.

Wyatt tugged off her pants, leaving her in just her undergarments. She reached to the sides, hoping to cover herself with a sheet or pillow.

“Now what’re you doing?” Wyatt stared down at her, all male dominance. A thrill ran through her body, a new kind of fear, one she wanted to explore. She was outside of her body, floating, experiencing everything as a voyeur.

“Covering myself?”

Both men glanced at each other, appearing dumbfounded. Had they never met an insecure woman before? Perhaps they were only used to equally perfect cowgirls.

“Why?” asked Ethan.

He was ruining her sexual high, forcing her to face her insecurities when she’d rather ignore them. “Because I’m ashamed of my body,” she blurted, upset she had to spell it out for them. “Or haven’t you noticed I’m not exactly bikini material?” She usually wasn’t so forward or blatant, but it wasn’t right for them to pretend to be clueless. It only made her feel worse about herself.

“She’s not even green broke,” said Wyatt, whatever that meant. “Rachel, I don’t know what women in the city strive for these days, but I promise you that simple men like us most certainly appreciate a woman with plenty of curves.”

“You’re perfect. Soft and lush. Everything a woman should be.” Ethan propped a knee on the mattress and leaned over her prone body. He peeled one cup of her bra down, exposing her throbbing nipple. “And I love these tits.” Ethan’s hot, wet mouth suckled her nipple like a starved infant, sending spikes of electricity coursing through her body like wildfire. She’d never felt anything so explosive, so pleasurable in all her life. Her other nipple was beaded so tight, she was ready to beg him to tend it. But as soon as the thought had entered her head, Wyatt descended over her other side and covered her areola with his mouth. His tongue was lively, making her pussy spasm uncontrollably. She watched the two heads covering her chest. It was so kinky, two different men engorging themselves on her breasts at once, one dark, one blond. She was surprised at how much she loved it.

Ethan began to move lower, trailing kisses along her heated skin. She’d never had good muscle tone, and when he reached her midriff, she tensed. Rachel forgot about her newfound pleasure and reached down to cover herself again. It had been a mistake. As soon as she covered her stomach with her arm, the men rose to attention.

“Not even green broke,” repeated Wyatt. “This’ll go on all night. Pass me some pig string.”

Ethan slipped away, only to return with a coil of thin yellow twine. She watched with rapt fascination, wondering what they planned next. When Wyatt lifted both her arms above her head, weaving the string in a precise manner around her wrists, she began to panic, her heart pounding in her ears. She tugged downward, but he’d already secured her to the frame of the bed. What were they going to do to her? Was she in danger? And the damn lights were still on!

“Struggling will only make it worse,” said Wyatt. He returned to his place beside her, lounging on his side. His shoulders were so broad that he blocked the other side of the trailer from her view entirely. “Calm down.”

“What are you doing? Please untie me.” She tugged again.

“You know the game, Rachel. We’ve only just begun. You’ll have to learn not to hide yourself from us.” Ethan slipped her panties clean off her legs. This is not happening. She felt tears begin to prick her eyes, her throat tight and tingly. It wasn’t so much the fear building up inside her because she’d dealt with it on a daily basis for so long. It was the humiliation, being bound and not able to cover her nudity.

Ethan attempted to part her legs at the knees. “Forgive me, darlin’. I’m not usually so forward, but when a man’s been sporting blue balls for the better part of the three seasons, he tends to act out of character when presented with such a treasure.” She fought him but failed. He was so powerful, easily spreading her thighs, exposing her moist pussy. She could have fought a little harder, but a big part of her was curious.

“She’s ripe, Wyatt. Soft and pink like a summer peach.”

She hadn’t even shaved her legs in a week. This was a living nightmare that just got worse by the second. Were these men that hard up for sex they’d put up with the likes of her?

“Look, you need to untie me. I’ll scream, you know.”

Wyatt smirked, painting patterns around her nipple with a fingertip. “That’s good. We intend for you to do a lot of screaming tonight.”