STORY EXCERPT

She abruptly pulled out of his embrace and fastened her dress back together. “I need to get back. Daddy will be looking for me.”

Swallowing his disappointment, Cord said, “I’ll walk you back, chica.”

Her eyes were hard, or maybe it was just the moonlight playing tricks on him. “Chica? Don’t call me that. And you can’t tell anyone what happened between us. This was a mistake. I’ll see you around.” Before he could react, she vanished out the door.

“I’ll see you around.”Had she really just said that? He found his shirt on the floor and, after jerking it on, left the bunkhouse, slamming the door behind him. She teased him, got him hard as hell, then vanished? What the fuck had just happened here?

Just a few feet into the dark, someone stepped in front of him. In no mood to talk, Cord started to push by when the other man grabbed his arm. “You too good to talk to me, Mex?”

Buford LaDelle. Cord sighed. What was the guy’s problem with him? “No, just tired.”

“Worn out from work, or something else?”

Cord jerked his arm away from the bigger man’s grip. “Not that I feel like sharing my business with you, but yeah, I’m beat from roping all day.”

Another man moved out of the shadows. Buford grinned at him. “I think he’s worn out from that little joyride he just gave Shayla. How ’bout you, Spike? Think that’s it?”

“Yeah, I think that’s it,” Spike agreed.

Buford got so close Cord could smell the alcohol on the other man’s breath. “That it, Mex?”

“Get lost.” Cord moved to step around Buford, and the bigger man slugged him. Hard. In the stomach. Not expecting it, he doubled over, fighting to catch his breath. Before he could suck in enough air, one of the men slipped a lariat over his head, pulling it tight against his neck. The other one grabbed his wrists and bound them with a slick leather strap, a rein maybe.

What the hell? It was one thing to have a fistfight over a girl—all guys did it—but he’d never been attacked in the dark and roped like a wild steer before. Cord struggled, and the rope around his neck tightened until he feared passing out. Stars danced in front of his eyes, and his ears felt like they had cotton stuffed in them. He tried to speak, and his voice came out in a hoarse growl. “Let me go.”

Buford chuckled. “Not until you learn your lesson, son. I don’t know how things are done back where you come from, but around here, illegals don’t fuck our women.”

“I didn’t—” The rope dug into his neck, cutting off his words. He was as American as they were, the crazy bastards.

Like a prisoner being dragged to the gallows, Cord was hauled toward the corrals. Every time he tried to speak, one of them jerked the rope around his neck, making it impossible for him to call for help. At the branding pens, Buford yanked Cord up tight against one of the corral posts, securing him like a trussed hog. His nose pressed against the rough cedar pole. He turned his face so his cheek rubbed it instead. Spike pulled Cord’s hands around the pole and tied them, rendering him helpless.

“What now?” Spike asked.

Buford held up something that flashed in the dim moonlight. A knife. “I say we geld him. Cut off his nuts and feed them to him.”

The buddy chuckled. “Good plan. That’ll teach him not to go between the legs of decent white women.”

Cord struggled against the rope binding him until it cut into his neck. Warmth trickled down his neck, and he knew it had to be blood. They were only trying to scare him. No one in his right mind would do something so crazy.

Buford crowded up behind Cord, pinning him even tighter to the fence, and reached around and unbuckled his jeans. They slid down over his hips and thighs. He stood tied, half naked, his jeans and shorts pooling around the tops of his boots, as they discussed what to do next.

“We’re gonna need another couple of ropes to hold his legs apart,” the buddy said helpfully. “I’ll go get ’em. But you’re gonna have to do the cuttin’ ’cause I ain’t touchin’ no other man’s dick or balls.”

Buford considered that, turning the knife in his hands. “Yeah, you got a point about that. I ain’t no queer. But we gotta do something to teach this boy a lesson.”

Cord twisted his hands, desperate to get free, but the tie they’d used tightened with every move. He couldn’t catch a deep breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his back. The joke had gone far enough. “Turn me loose and I won’t kick your ass,” he demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Oh my God.” A woman’s voice. Shayla. Out of the corner of his eye, Cord saw her take in the scene. Horror filled her voice. “What are you doing? This isn’t Deliverance. Let him go right now.”

A rough laugh rumbled out of Buford. “Not a chance. Your daddy told us to take care of the problem, and we have it handled.”

“I never agreed to this,” she said stubbornly. “Pull up his pants and turn him loose.”

“We’re just scaring him a little.” Buford’s tone changed to vicious, and he stepped toward her with his fist closed. “Now get on out of here.”

She turned and fled.

ADULT EXCERPT

Cord slid one finger underneath her open jeans and lace panties, stopping when the tip of his middle finger touched her pubic hair, short from a recent bikini wax. His finger slid enticingly back and forth until she thought she’d die from anticipation.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she arched her back so he’d have better access. He slid his finger farther down until he brushed her clit with a light-as-air caress.

She shuddered.

“Por favor, señorita.”His husky voice sent shivers crashing over her. What was he asking her for? With a “please” thrown in? She hadn’t even touched him yet. He switched to English. “Take off your jeans.”

A hot, wet rush flooded her. “Okay. Yes.”

He helped her to stand on weak legs. With her feet inside of his thighs, she placed her hands on her waistband and slid the denim down over her hips and legs. When it reached her ankles, trapping her, she leaned forward and braced her hands on his shoulders. Lifting one foot, then the other, he tugged her jeans free and tossed them aside. Nude, except for a pair of scanty lace panties that showed more than they covered, she stood in front of him, trapped between his legs. Lifting his head, he met her eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, he hooked his thumbs in her panties and pulled them down to her ankles.

Aspen’s legs shook.

Her hands curled around his shoulders, her nails digging in deep.

His hands slid up with intoxicating slowness until they reached her rear, cupping it. He squeezed her ass cheeks, kneading them, then gently propelled her forward, until his nose bumped her knees.

Bending his head, he touched her kneecap with his tongue. With kisses so light she barely felt them, he explored her knees, never a spot she’d found especially erotic before. She gasped. Warmth seeped through her, weakening her bones. Unable to part her legs because of her red lace hobbles, she clenched her thighs together. He made a negative noise in his throat and slid his palms up the inside of her legs until she spread them a few inches.

Aspen bent her head and watched, unable to look away as Cord touched her. Wrapping his left hand around her ass again, he reached between her legs with his right. With his thumb, he circled her clit, brushing across it until her body wept for him. Inserting his index finger inside her, he increased the pressure on her clit until her body began to clamp around his finger. Pressing it deeper, he urged, “Vente para mí.”

Come for me.

With a soft whimper, Aspen gave in to the unbearable pleasure. Her vagina tightened. He sped up the movement of his thumb, pressing deep with his finger, until she bucked against his hand, crying out as she lost control. He nipped just inside her knee as she climaxed, shaking so hard she couldn’t have stood if he didn’t have his arms wrapped around her legs.

As her breathing slowed, she kicked her panties aside and knelt between Cord’s legs. With shaking hands, she reached for his belt buckle, but couldn’t get it free. “Take this off,” she demanded.

He obliged, and she placed her hands over his as he freed himself. Together, they undid the top button of his jeans, then slid down the zipper. She pushed the offending material aside, then peeled back his white shorts until the head of his cock appeared. She stroked the tip until it lifted, pressing against the fabric holding it prisoner.

“Do you like that?” she whispered.

“Sí.” He swallowed. “Sí.”

“I like it, too.” She licked her lips. “So hard.”

He groaned, fisting his hands beside him. “Quiero me—”

“Yes?” She continued to tease his penis until a drop of moisture appeared on the tip. “What do you want?”

“Quiero follarte. Usted.”His voice sounded harsher than normal.

He wanted to fuck her.

For a minute Aspen faltered, biting her bottom lip. Not exactly candy, flowers, or love. But hadn’t Paloma encouraged her to come here for exactly this? To hook up? Get laid? Forget Vic Lang? Move on? She wasn’t supposed to fall in love along the way. She shoved that notion to the back of her mind. Thoughts like that would only get her hurt.

“I want you, too.”