Shadow Maverick Ranch Box Set Page 27

  Clay stood and dug out the condom he’d put in his pocket. She raised her head to watch but Clay didn’t have it in him to give her a big show. His control was too far gone.

  He stripped and sheathed his cock, the touch almost painful. He climbed back on the bed. Ainsley welcomed him within the cradle of her legs. He reached down, positioning his cock at her entrance.

  “Hold on to me, Ainsley. I’m not sure I’ll be able to go slow,” he warned. “Not sure I can be as gentle as I’d like.” Or at all.

  Her nails dug into his biceps as she rubbed against him. “I’m not one of your pretty little Barbie dolls. If you’re going to fuck me, I expect you to do it right. Show me you’re as good with your cock as you are with your tongue.”

  Clay cursed. He’d address the Barbie doll comment later. For now … he captured her smart mouth with his and thrust his hips.

  Fuuuck.

  She was so tight he couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered against his ribcage.

  He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers while he gave her time to get used to the penetration.

  “You okay?”

  “The only way I’d be better is if you’d move.”

  A growl escaped his throat as her inner muscles bore down hard. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

  “Then burn me,” she challenged. “Do it now.”

  His. Fucking. Pleasure.

  Clay pinned her to the bed as he started moving. Slow at first, then faster. A pounding rhythm guaranteed to get them both where they needed to go.

  His greedy little wildcat met him stroke for stroke until their bodies were covered in sweat and the scent of sex filled the air.

  Ainsley clawed at his back—trying to get closer, trying to get him to go faster, trying to hold on for the ride—he didn’t know.

  All he knew was the snug heat of her pussy and the promise of bliss he found there.

  His body vibrated, the need to come a raging firestorm through his veins. Ainsley’s scream barely registered as light exploded behind his eyelids. His release shot through him—so powerful, it took his sight, his hearing, and a good portion of his brain function with it.

  Ainsley went soft beneath him. The residual contractions of her orgasm milked his cock.

  Still joined, Clay kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose.

  She opened her eyes. “Now, that’s the kind of ride I’m talking about, cowboy. Perfect ten.”

  “I’m a rancher, Ains. Not a bull rider. That’d be my friend Dakota,” he stupidly added.

  She arched a brow. “Oh yeah? Was he with you last night?”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  She purred. Goddamn purred.

  “Not to worry. One cowboy at a time is all I can handle.” Ainsley’s expression turned his world upside-down. Her eyes shone with lazy satisfaction. Contentment. The loneliness he’d seen before was gone. “Thank you, Clay. I’m glad my stubborn pride didn’t cheat us out of this.”

  Jesus. The woman would be the death of him.

  “Me too, Ains.” He smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. The thought of another man touching her ignited a fire in his gut. “Me, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  Clay strolled into the ranch office. He mumbled a greeting and collapsed onto the couch.

  He had a shit ton of stuff to do today, but he was so fucking tired he could hardly muster up the energy to care. He needed ten minutes of shuteye. A quick power nap before he hit the baler.

  “Running a little late?” Gavin asked from behind the desk where their dad had worked before his retirement. Or “semi-retirement” as Pops called it.

  “Long night.” Clay tossed his hat aside and let his head fall back, his eyes drifting shut of their own accord. Long, pleasurable night. His personal best, in fact. Once Ainsley lowered her defenses, she’d given him a proverbial run for his money. He’d be wearing her marks down his back for the next few days.

  A slow smile spread his lips.

  She’d wear a few of his as well.

  “Did you talk to Ainsley?”

  Clay cracked an eyelid to peer at his brother. “Not yet.” Talk hadn’t been high on his list of priorities last night.

  Gavin’s heavy sigh had Clay lifting his head to glare. “What?”

  “You wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “Other than the fact that I’ve been pulling more than my share of the weight lately and my ass is worn out?”

  “It’s not going to get any better if we add land. If you can’t handle the extra work, you better speak up now.”

  “Fuck off, Gavin.” Clay didn’t even have the energy to put any force behind the words. “You’ve been back for what? Three months? I’ve worked this ranch since the day I learned to keep my ass in a saddle, so don’t try to tell me I can’t fucking handle it.”

  “You’re the one who said you—”

  “I said I was tired. Fact is, I’ll pull whatever weight is needed.” But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t bitch about it. “I’ve never not done my job, so how about you cut me some slack.”

  Gavin’s eyes narrowed. Damn if he didn’t look just like Pops in that moment. “That the only reason you’re worn out?”

  So much for his power nap. “You askin’ about my sex life?”

  “So, this is about Ainsley.”

  Like a dog with a fucking bone.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I’m not stupid. Something’s put a burr up your ass. The last two times I’ve mentioned anything to do with her, you’ve gotten pissy. I did the math.”

  Clay hadn’t realized he’d been that transparent. He’d known Ainsley was special from the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the bar. He still didn’t know what it meant, exactly. But after last night, Clay had no doubt he’d see her again—and again—which meant there was no point in hiding his interest in her from his family. They’d find out eventually.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with her,” Clay admitted. “She’s closed off when it comes to the ranch. I get the feeling it’s more than the number of sale offers she’s been getting. The topic makes her uncomfortable, so I know there’s more going on than she’s telling.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Jesus, Gavin. Nelson let that place go to shit. The house is practically falling down around her.”

  “You’ve been over there?”

  “I rebuilt her porch yesterday. The thing was dangerous as hell.”

  Gavin’s brows rose in surprise. “She asked you to do that?”

  Clay laughed, remembering Ainsley’s reaction to finding her porch in shambles. “No. And she wasn’t too happy about me taking it on. She got skittish about the cost of the lumber, but I used the leftover wood from the deck Pax and I built onto the fishing cabin a few years back. I convinced her it wouldn’t cost her anything but dinner.”

  “I’m guessing dinner was good?”

  “Dinner was fantastic. She makes a mean spaghetti. The sauce from scratch I might add, from stuff out of her garden. We ate and talked basics.” Clay wasn’t comfortable sharing Ainsley’s history with his brother, since it wasn’t his story to tell. “You remember Ed Marks?”

  “He’s managed things over there for what? Twenty, twenty-five years now?”

  “Yeah, well, he quit. Ainsley mentioned they didn’t see eye-to-eye on something, but at that point I didn’t feel comfortable pushing her. I get the feeling she knows more than any of us gave her credit for. She hasn’t had it easy. In fact, the night I met her, she was playing pool for cash at Slick’s. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Figured she was just having fun.”

  Gavin frowned. He leaned forward, his forearms resting against the desk. “She’s a hustler?”

  “No. Her skill was obvious from the start.” After learning of her past, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know where she’d acquired such expertise. “She was picking ’em up and knocking ’em down as fast as they’d let her.
Plus, from what I saw, the bets were small. The dumbasses made a game of trying to be the first to beat her.”

  “Then what’s the issue? Sounds like a lady enjoying a Saturday night, right? She wouldn’t be the first one to bet on pool at Slick’s. Or the last to take money from drunk cowboys. You thinkin’ there’s more to it than that?”

  Unease settled heavy on his chest. He worried things were much worse for Ainsley than he suspected. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think.”

  Maybe Gavin was right. He was probably making a bigger deal out of it than he should. God, he was tired.

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  Clay had an idea brewing, a plan which had occurred to him as he watched Ainsley sleep. Before he was ready to share, a little recon of Ainsley’s ranch was in order. If he was wrong, there’d be no harm done. But if he was right, he would kill two birds with one stone.

  He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Just ten minutes.

  “Lemme get back to you on that.”

  #

  Ainsley woke to the sun shining through her bedroom window.

  She rolled and pressed her nose into the pillow beside her. The scent of sex and man lingered within the fibers of the sheets.

  The man had gone—with a promise to see her later—but the memory of him lingered on her skin, in every aching muscle of her body.

  Sleeping with Clay … yeah, there was an activity she wouldn’t mind repeating. Curled around his massive warmth, she’d slipped into the sleep of the dead.

  She wouldn’t mind revisiting the other stuff too. Not that he’d left her wanting. She’d lost count of the orgasms he’d given her. Lost count of the number of times they’d had sex too, although the last time had been not so long ago.

  Ainsley touched her lips. They were sensitive and swollen from Clay’s attention. He seemed to enjoy kissing her. He was damn good at it. And his tongue … his wicked, adventurous tongue…

  Ainsley groaned. She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling.

  Her mouth hadn’t been the only place to receive his lip service. Her cheeks flamed as she remembered all the places he’d touched, all the things they’d done. She ran a hand over her naked breasts. She chuckled at the thought her nipples must be exhausted, since they made no attempt to respond. Apparently, the wanton bitches preferred Clay’s touch. She moved lower, gently testing her aches. She flattened her fingers and pressed against the folds of her sex. Tender. Deliciously so.

  Clay made her past sexual encounters feel like failed attempts at best. He brought out the passionate woman inside her. He didn’t ask. He demanded, accepting nothing less than everything she had to give. He wouldn’t let her hide behind the insecurities that plagued her after their first time—was he disappointed with her small breasts? Were her hips too wide? Had she screamed too loud? Jesus, had she scratched him?

  He’d spent the rest of the night proving she had nothing to worry about.

  She’d never experienced anything close to the level of satisfaction she’d found in Clay’s arms.

  And it made her nervous as hell.

  He hadn’t just rocked her world last night. He’d picked it up, spun it around, and put it back wrong-side up. She was out of sorts. Off balance. Her brain shrouded in lust-fog. All viable reasons to explain her uncharacteristic desire to wrap up in the pillowcase Clay used in order to keep his scent close.

  Ainsley forced herself from the bed, already dreading the mess awaiting her in the kitchen from dinner last night. She made quick work of her morning routine, dressed in her usual attire—tank top and shorts—and headed downstairs.

  God, she hated the hormonal crap that went along with being a woman.

  She’d known Clay for all of a day. One day!

  She’d bet he wasn’t sitting around, daydreaming about her and wanting to keep her scent close.

  The whole thing was ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

  They’d shared a meal. Had mind-blowing sex. Making more of the situation wouldn’t be good for either of them.

  Ainsley went straight for the coffee pot. She rinsed the carafe and set it in the sink to fill. She shivered, chill bumps breaking out all over her arms. She glanced out the window. The sun had risen high enough to indicate she’d overslept.

  The sun.

  Wait a minute.

  She whirled around, her gaze finding the clock on the wall. After nine? Why the hell wasn’t it ninety degrees in the house?

  Everything hit her at once.

  The chill in the air. The single piece of paper on the counter. The table, clean. Not a dirty dish in sight. That’s when she realized the dishwasher was running.

  Clay.

  Stunned, but smiling, Ainsley picked up the piece of paper and read:

  Ainsley,

  Your air conditioner should be running smoothly now. The coil had frozen up, I suspect from trying to keep up with the heat. Easy fix, and should save money now that it won’t have to work so hard.

  We could do the same payment plan as with the porch, but the A/C was a lot less work. That said, I’ll pick up a pizza, and you can provide the dessert—same as last night, I hope. I find I’ve become addicted to your taste.

  Call me if tonight isn’t good for you, and we’ll figure out something else. We’ve definitely gotten started now, Ains. Don’t for a minute believe otherwise.

  Clay

  Ainsley smoothed a finger over the seven digit number he’d written below his name. He’d fixed her air conditioner. Was he being helpful, or was he getting a jump on repairs, thinking his family would own the place soon?

  After last night, she hated feeling suspicious. He deserved better than that. She liked him. She really did. Clay seemed the kind of man a woman could count on. Trustworthy and hardworking. With her knowledge of business and Clay’s ranching experience, they’d make a helluva good team. Not to mention he had a strength she admired and a passion to rival her own.

  Which was the problem.

  We’ve definitely gotten started now, Ains.

  What had they started? And would her heart survive intact?

  She was still pondering those questions later in the afternoon when Clay drove up, pulling a horse trailer behind his truck.

  Her heart skipped double time as he approached the garden, where she’d been working the last few hours. He’d traded his cowboy hat for a ball cap pulled low, casting a dangerous shadow over his face. His navy-colored T-shirt and faded jeans hugged his muscles as he walked, reminding her of the powerful way he’d moved between her thighs.

  Ainsley stood and brushed off her legs. “I didn’t expect you so soon,” she told him as he reached her. “And I don’t see any pizza.”

  He kissed her hard and fast. “Have I told you how much I like your mouth?”

  “I kinda dig yours too, cowboy.” Ainsley stretched to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands rested on her hips. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Then another. On the third pass, his lips opened in invitation. She forgot all about her earlier worry as his tongue met hers. Clay seemed willing to let her control the kiss, his hold showing no signs of urgency as she took her taste and eased back.

  He smiled down at her. Sweet Jesus, the man had dimples. “Are you too busy to run away with me?”

  “Hmm. What’cha got in mind?” The bedroom had her vote. She’d spent a good part of her afternoon thinking about the things he’d done to her body—as well as the things she’d yet to do with his. Her skin practically vibrated with anticipation.

  “I thought we’d take a little ride.”

  Her body caught the innuendo and held on tight. “That sounds like a great plan.”

  “I know that look, Ains. As much as I like where your head is at, I had a different kind of ride in mind for this afternoon.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Deadly. When was the last time you rode this land? Checked things over yourself?”

  “I’ve got a crew to
handle that.” The handful of men who’d stayed with her remained loyal. She suspected they resented her being a woman, but so far they hadn’t given her any trouble.

  “As does Shadow Maverick. That doesn’t mean I sit on the sidelines and hope everything goes okay.”

  “I don’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs, you know.”

  “Don’t get your hackles up, Ains. I know you don’t. You’re the one who said you didn’t know all you needed to, so here’s your first lesson from the Clayton Mathis school of ranchin’. Know what you’ve got to work with. The best way to do that is to see for yourself. We could take the truck, but I thought it would be fun to ride, since the temps aren’t scorching today. Even packed us a picnic. Romantic, right?”

  If Ainsley hadn’t promised herself she’d put a lid on her suspicions, she might’ve thought he looked guilty just then.

  “You brought horses with you?”

  He took her hand and walked her toward the trailer. “One horse. Mine. I call him Whiskey, but I’ll tell you, I shoulda named him Satan. Bastard gets down right ornery when he doesn’t get enough exercise. You’ve got a horse you can ride, don’t you? Wait. Do you know how to ride? I guess I should’ve asked that sooner, huh?”

  “I can ride. In fact, I’d love the opportunity to stretch my riding legs. I’ve got two horses left in the barn. Timber and Sapphire. Timber is older, I think. Not much fazes him that I can tell. I’m still learning. Books can teach the steps to saddling a horse, but learning to ride is another story. I’d like to try out Sapphire, but she’s too spirited for me yet.”

  Ainsley hoped Clay missed her slip about the horses she had left. No matter what this thing was between them, her problems were her problems. He’d already done too much by fixing her porch and air conditioner.

  “I’ve got some experience riding a feisty mare.” His expression was pure wicked male. “Got the scratch marks to prove it. I’ll add riding lessons to your curriculum, first lesson tonight.”

  Oh, Clay Mathis was a dangerous charmer.

  She licked over her bottom lip. Slowly. His gaze locked on the movement, so she did it again. She feigned a look of innocence. “You sure you don’t want to rearrange my schedule, Mr. Mathis? Move that lesson up a bit?”