Wrangle Me, Cowboys_A Reverse Harem Forbidden Romance Page 10
I swung down off Van Gogh, feeling quite pleased with how much I’d progressed in my riding technique. I’d just dismounted with the poise of a real cowgirl. I strutted towards the barn, leading the beautiful white horse towards his stall. Now that Grimes had been fired for being a giant dick to me—or puny dick, to be precise—I had my hands full taking care of the four horses on the ranch.
After I’d brushed down Van Gogh and put up his saddle and gear, I turned just in time to see Mrs. Grimes coming around the corner of the barn.
Shit. Just who I didn’t want to see. I’d already seen way too much of her when she told me off for getting her husband fired. I could only imagine the earful I was about to get now that she’d been fired, too.
But hey, it wasn’t my fault she attacked me and called me a whore. Okay, maybe the whore part was my fault. But what was a girl to do when every one of her stepbrothers was hotter than the last…and willing to share?
I spotted the ladder leading up to the hay loft and decided to go for it. It looked a little rickety, and I’d never used it before. But if crotchety old Mr. Grimes could get up and down it, surely I could. It would save my pride, and my backside, from another run-in with the old witch. With a glance over my shoulder, I started up the ladder.
“First she gets me fired and now she runs like a coward instead of facing me,” Mrs. Grimes said behind me.
Craptastic. She’d seen me.
“Maybe I’d prefer not to get thrown in the snow again,” I said, turning halfway around. I clung to the ladder and looked down at Mrs. Grimes.
“Oh, don’t pretend that hurt,” she huffed, her eyes glittering with malice as she scurried over to the ladder.
My mouth dropped open when she grabbed the rungs of the wooden ladder. It might hold me, but there was no way it was going to hold two of us. It was already shaking and swaying with my every step.
“Don’t climb up,” I yelled, my hand shooting out, as if I could stop her from halfway up. “We’ll both fall.”
“Then get your scrawny ass down here and tell me to my face how you didn’t mean to come in here conniving to get me and my husband both fired.”
“I didn’t,” I protested, hugging the ladder as she shook it. It swayed and creaked alarmingly.
“Get down here, you little hussy,” she barked, shaking the ladder harder. “Or I’ll come up there and get you myself.”
I looked down, and then up at the dozen steps left before the loft.
“I’d like to see you try, you big hussy,” I exploded, fear taking over and activating my no-filter mode. Making a snap decision, I scampered up the rungs as fast as I could. The ladder scraped sideways as I reached the last few steps. Mrs. Grimes screeched in fury below, but I didn’t stop to see if she was climbing up or just trying to knock me off.
It had to be at least twenty feet to the floor, and I wasn’t keen on breaking my neck. The nearest hospital was probably hours away from Coyote Ranch.
I grabbed the edge of the loft as the ladder began to tip, moving slowly to one side. With a shriek of fear, I hauled myself up, my legs kicking at empty air as I dove headfirst into a pile of straw. My heart slammed in my chest, my legs shaking with adrenaline. If I was going to die young, I did not want my cause of death to be listed as “an accident in a barn.” I may have been adjusting to ranch life, but I wasn’t that country yet.
“You can run, but you can’t hide!” Mrs. Grimes squawked from below.
I hung my head over the edge of the loft to see her panting and straining to lift the ladder, which has slid over against one wall. If she was trying to straighten it, that meant she was going to climb it. And from the look on her face, she wasn’t above tossing me from the hayloft and pretending it was an accident.
Who would people believe, the cherry-cheeked cheerful old lady or the New York party girl? She’d probably say I was drunk and had fallen out myself.
Determined not to let her reach me, I crawled along the loft to where the platform met the wall. The ladder was propped in the corner between the two, so I grabbed the top rungs and braced myself to push it away from the wall. Mrs. Grimes must have seen my intention, because she jerked at the ladder from below. Nearly toppling off, I let go of the ladder, which smacked back into the corner with a splintering crack. Whoever won control of the ladder, it didn’t look like either of us would be using it. Not without risk of it collapsing into a pile of boards and nails.
“Leave me alone,” I yelled down.
“I don’t think so,” she yelled back, yanking at the ladder.
I grabbed the top, pulled it back, and shoved as hard as I could. It tottered for a moment before tipping. It started slow, but as it gained momentum, it began to move faster. Mrs. Grimes’s eyes widened, and she backpedaled to get clear of it as it crashed to the floor with a giant whoosh, sending up a cloud of dust. The horses neighed and danced nervously in their stalls.
“You tried to kill me,” Mrs. Grimes screeched.
“Um, hello, you tried to knock me off a ladder,” I shouted back.
“That’s it,” she yelled. “I’ve had it with you and all these disgusting men. I’m calling the law on you.” With that, she whirled around and marched out of the barn.
I jumped up, ready to run and tell the guys. Only then did I realize that once again, I’d gotten myself royally stuck.
2
Amber
I didn’t want the guys to have to come back in from working to get me, so I settled down in the hay to wait. I was wearing nice warm clothes from my ride, and the day was sunny and warmer than usual, probably above freezing for once. Once Mrs. Grimes left, and I knew she wasn’t going to climb up and get me, it was kind of nice up there. When I heard the U-Haul pull out of the driveway, and I started to relax. The smell of the hay reminded me of the guys, and I snuggled down into it, thinking about them.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up from a delicious dream of all three men devouring me, to the sound of voices outside the barn. I crawled to the edge of the loft and yelled as loud as I could, and the voices stopped. I sat down on the hay and pulled out my phone. Now that I had all their numbers, I wasn’t sure which guy to text. Waylon had already rescued me one too many times, and I didn’t want him thinking I was more of a dumbass than he already did. On the other hand, I didn’t want the others thinking I was a dumbass at all.
In the end, the barn door opened, so I just called out to Sawyer, who had walked through the door, looking more gorgeous than ever with his felt cowboy hat pulled down over his blonde hair. I waved wildly from the loft, calling down until he looked up. He just shook his head and started picking up the ladder.
“Be careful,” I called. “It might be broken.”
A minute later, his smiling face appeared over the edge of the loft. “What are you doing up here?” he asked.
“Oh, thank you, baby Jesus,” I said.
“Well, I’m not baby Jesus, but you can thank me any time, Princess.”
“I intend to,” I said, my dream still fresh in my mind.
“Is that right?”
“That’s one hundred percent correct.”
“Then let’s have it,” he said climbing the last few rungs of the ladder and hopping up into the loft.
“Right now?” I squeaked, looking up at him. His hair had grown out a little, so it curled at the back of his neck, peeking out from under his hat. The sun slanted in the windows, and tiny hairs on his arms gleamed, outlining his shape in the sunlight.
He grinned down at me, a challenge in his eyes. “No time like the present.”
“Okay,” I said with a gulp. “But I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve watched it done. Not in person—well, not unless you count when I walked in on my boyfriend and another girl, but let’s not get into that. What I mean is, I’ve learned what I could from watching, you know, educational videos, so I might not totally suck. I mean, I’ll suck, but in a good way, at least I hope so.”
Sawyer cocked a
n eyebrow, smirking at my verbal tirade. “You mean you watched porn.”
“For educational purposes only,” I protested.
He grinned and nodded, his eyes flicking from my face down toward his zipper. I eased forward, then knelt up and ran my hands up the back of his legs. His calves were hard, his thighs even harder. My breath came faster as I looked up at his face. His smile remained, but his eyes were fierce with desire. I trembled at the intensity of his gaze. Biting my lip, I slid my hands around his thighs, pushing my fingers between them.
He reached down, stroking the back of my head, then running his hand around my jaw, lifting my chin. His thumb stroked my lower lip, pulling my lips apart. “You don’t have to thank me this way if you don’t want,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Oh, I want.” If I’d been uncertain before, his offer to let me off the hook sealed it. I wiggled my fingers, then drew my hands up further, over his firm ass, and tugged him until he took one step closer. The fly of his jeans was inches from my face. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning as I unbuttoned his jeans. I was going to touch my very first in-the-flesh penis, and I could not wait.
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