Lassoed Page 4

  My dick was hard, not going down even after fucking her two times. I had to assume Sam would wake up the same way. Horny as hell. We’d only hit the top few things on my fantasy list with her. It would take years…decades, to get through it all, and then we’d do it all over again. And again.

  I grinned as I cupped her breast. I couldn’t get enough of them. They were small, firm and were topped with little coral colored nipples that tightened so beautifully. They were very sensitive and when I gave one a little tug, I felt the clench of response around my finger deep inside her.

  “I think we discovered last night that you’re a dirty girl.”

  Her eyes fell closed as I found the little ridge on her inner wall that made her back arch, her eyes fall close. I knew just how to press, to curl my finger around her G-spot to make her come. But not yet. I wanted her on my dick when she did so. I loved feeling her orgasm, the way her walls all but milked the cum from my balls before I let go, filling the condom.

  I wished we had no barrier between us when we filled her, that I could be in her bare, her sticky honey coating my dick like it coated my fingers, that my cum could mark her inside and out. But not yet. I knew her body, but a conversation about birth control had to happen before we ditched the condoms. And trust. I was clean, so was Sam, but while I was commanding her pleasure, she was the one in charge. She was giving us the privilege of her body and she said how. She said when. She said bare, and only then would we mark her officially as ours.

  “Dirty? Only with you,” she replied, her neck arching, exposing that long column of pale skin. “And Sam.”

  I leaned in, licked the water from her skin, kissed along her jaw to her mouth.

  “Mmm,” she murmured as I continued to tease her pussy. To tease her. “I’ve had fun with you guys.”

  Fun? That wasn’t the word I’d use. Incredible. Insane. Amazing. Devastating, because life as I’d known it, my life before last night, before Natalie, was over.

  There was no going back, and I didn’t want to. I wanted her in my life, in my bed, my shower, hell, I wanted in her pussy forever.

  “I’m sure I can speak for Sam and say we have, too. It doesn’t have to end.” I waited for her to open her eyes. “I don’t want it to.”

  Her aroused gaze met mine. “It does. You’re leaving.”

  I curled my finger. “And you’re going to come.”

  “Come? Where? Montana?” she breathed as I stroked her G-spot with a touch more pressure.

  “On my fingers”—I slid out and had a second join the first inside her slick heat—“and to Montana.”

  She frowned, but gasped when I nipped at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. Her fingers tangled in my wet hair. “Please, I want to come,” she whimpered as I got her closer to the brink.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, working her expertly until she came all over my fingers, her cry of pleasure bouncing off the bathroom walls. The look of her as she did was the most beautiful sight. Wild, abandoned, completely uninhibited and open. Exposed. The real Natalie was revealed, and only for me and Sam. And right now, with the sounds of her pleasure bouncing off the steamy walls, all mine. Mine.

  I slipped from her when she slumped against the wall, a little smile on her lips. With a hand on her hip, I held her up as it seemed her knees were a little shaky. To say I was proud that I’d made her all wilted and gorgeous was an understatement. She only made my ego grow…as well as my dick.

  I wanted to fuck her, but I hadn’t brought a condom to the bathroom. Didn’t matter. My dick could wait, although it wasn’t happy about it.

  “What’s this about Montana?” she asked as I grabbed the soap, began to slide it all over her. Fuck, Natalie’s perfect body all dripping wet and slick with suds? It was going at the top of my spank bank fantasies.

  I kept my eyes on her body as I spoke. “This wasn’t the place to tell you this, the shower, I mean, but we’re here to tell you that you’ve inherited a ranch in Montana.”

  She stiffened and her hands grabbed my wrists, stilled my motions. “What?”

  I looked at her, saw the confusion in her eyes. All desire washed away, as if by the hot spray that fell on us.

  “Your father, Aiden Steele, left part of his estate to you,” I clarified.

  She frowned. “My father?”

  She slid back the shower curtain, the metal slide loud. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around herself, not taking the time to dry her body or her hair.

  Shit. I fucked this up. I had no idea what her mother had told her about Aiden Steele. From the information we’d collected, we knew Natalie’s mom had passed on three years ago of an aneurysm, so if she had kept it a secret, it had died with her. Her mother had married when Natalie was five, so it was possible she thought that man was actually her father. The way Natalie was responding, I had no idea what she knew. I did know I hadn’t done this right. Sam was going to fucking kill me.

  Reaching out, I turned off the water. By the time I stepped out and grabbed a towel, she was out the door, cool air seeping in.

  I found her by the bedroom window, looking out at the view. She’d tugged the curtains back enough to see, letting in a bright strip of morning light.

  “What do you know about your father?” I asked. The air conditioning chilled my damp skin, but I didn’t give a shit. I worried for Natalie.

  She didn’t turn to look at me. Her hair was darker wet and it dripped down over her shoulders, even onto the floor behind her. So beautiful, so close, yet untouchable.

  “He died,” she said finally. “A long time ago.”

  “That’s what your mother told you?”

  She looked over her shoulder at me. “Yes. Are you saying I inherited a ranch from someone who died over twenty years ago?”

  Slowly, I shook my head. I proceeded cautiously, as if she were a skittish mare. “He died last year.”

  Turning to me fully, she crossed her arms over her chest, the slight swells of her breasts rising over the edge of the white towel. Backlit, it was hard to see her expression. “I think you need to start at the beginning.”

  “Let me get Sam in here.” I walked to the bedroom door, opened it and called to him.

  Within a minute, he came in, only having taken the time to slip on a pair of jeans. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep. He took in Natalie in just her towel and grinned, walked toward her to kiss her, I assumed. She put her hand up, stopped him. If he missed the hand, her expression alone would have stopped him cold. “Ashe was going to tell me about my father. The inheritance.”

  All playfulness dropped from his face. “I see.” He glanced at me as if trying to assess the situation, but finally nodded.

  I went to the closet, grabbed the white robe off the hanger and handed it to Natalie. “You’re cold.”

  As she wrapped herself in it, not dropping the towel to do so until after she was covered, I knew we were in big trouble. As she tugged the belt into a fierce knot, any chance of another round of wild sex was definitely over. While she was naked underneath, it could have been a full snow-suit she wore. We weren’t getting to see any of her anytime soon.

  I just had to hope not everything was over.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and told her everything. How Aiden Steele had died and left his ranch to five daughters. Four had been found and now lived in Barlow, but she was the last one. As I shared, she paced the room, listening intently.

  “You’re, what, investigators?” she asked finally.

  Sam nodded. “We were hired by the estate’s lawyer to find you.”

  “And you needed to do a full body cavity search to confirm I’m the last Steele sister?” While the tone was all snark, she was serious.

  Sam held his hands up. “Sweetheart, it’s not like that and you know it. What we share—”

  “What we share? What is it that we share? Are you this thorough with all your clients?”

  “That’s a low blow,” I told her. “I think
you know us enough to realize we’re not like that.”

  She tapped her bare foot on the carpet. “Oh really? I find out I have a father I’d thought died over twenty years ago from two men I had a one-night-stand with and you think I’m the one tossing out low blows?”

  She pointed to herself. Her cheeks were flushed and she was riled. Shit. Shit.

  “You got what you wanted, to fuck me. Why toss these lies out now? You could just tell me to leave.”

  “Sweetheart,” Sam said, the one word soft.

  She narrowed her eyes, pointed at him. “Don’t sweetheart me.”

  “We don’t want you to leave. That’s just it. We want you to stay. Last night was…amazing. You’re it for us.”

  She laughed, but she shook her head, closed her eyes as if blocking us out. “It? Right. Look, I’ll just go. That’s what you want, right? No clingy goodbyes, no texting or stalking. No misguided woman wanting more.”

  She stomped into the living room and we followed. I sat on the arm of the couch as Sam went into his room. She grabbed her dress from the floor, stripped out of the robe and stepped into it, working it up over her bare body. Sam returned by the time she got the zipper up at the back of her neck. I’d have helped, but I didn’t dare get near her.

  “Here.” He held out her file, her paperwork. I could tell by the thickness that it was all of it, not only the details about the inheritance Riley had written up, but the information we’d collected on her. “This is everything.”

  She stared at the folder and it was obvious for the first time she thought we were telling her the truth.

  “Riley Townsend’s the executor of the estate. His information is on the first page. Call him.”

  “But…wait.” She looked down at the carpet, deep in thought. Blindly, she went over to her heels, picked them up.

  Sam afforded me a glance and we remained quiet, let her think. He still held the folder.

  “Whatever’s in that folder is one thing. But you guys picked me up knowing all this.”

  “I tried to tell you last night,” I said. She’d asked us why we were in town and I offered to tell her, but she’d shut me down. And then I forgot everything altogether because I hadn’t been thinking with my big head. Just my little one.

  And look where that had gotten us.

  Her eyes narrowed again. “You tried. You tried? Why didn’t you try again?”

  Shit, I realized I’d sounded all defensive and attempting to spin this back on her. No wonder we were still fucking single.

  “This is a big deal. You were following me! Stalking me, even. I mean, you came to the restaurant, not my house or work. You didn’t even call me. God, that’s even more creepy than Alan.”

  I assumed Alan was her boss, and grudgingly, she was probably right. It didn’t help the gut punch feeling, especially when we’d brought this on ourselves.

  “One look, sweetheart, and you ruined us.”

  “Yeah, well, you ruined me, too,” she replied. Her voice broke a little, but her spine was like fucking steel. Yeah, she was a Steele daughter all right. And not only did we fuck her, but we’d fucked up, too.

  Balancing on one foot, she slipped on her heel, then the other. Reaching out, she tugged the file from Sam, then grabbed her purse and briefcase.

  I stood then. “Wait, you’re not leaving.”

  She spun and faced me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. So dead.

  “Watch me.”

  She went to the door in her day-old dress and heels, her hair wet ropes down over her shoulders. No makeup, no underwear.

  She opened it and stormed out, the heavy metal making it slam behind her.

  Running my hand over my face, I began to swear. The one and only woman we wanted in our life just walked right out. We forced her to do the walk of shame, which was like a kick to the balls to alpha males like us. We didn’t make a woman do that, and not Natalie. Shit, not her. We’d hurt her deeper than I’d ever imagined.

  And now she was gone. Out of our lives, all chances of something more completely gone. Dead. And it had been all our fault.

  5

  NATALIE

  * * *

  Montana was not what I expected. Well, I expected it to be cold, but it was cold. C.O.L.D. And it was April. Boston was cold, even occasionally snowed this time of year, but there was some kind of sharp bite I hadn’t expected. Perhaps it was the wind that didn’t seem to stop blowing since there weren’t any trees to stop it. In my haste to leave, I hadn’t packed a heavy coat, so I was wearing the one I just bought at the clothing store on Main Street in Barlow. With lots of puffy down, it was really cozy, but the woman at the store had also sold me a hat, mittens and sturdy shoes. As in cowboy boots. Where I’d been unprepared when I got off the plane four hours earlier, now I was over prepared, but at least feeling like I blended in.

  I didn’t. Not at all. I’d never been west of the Mississippi River and I’d never seen a real mountain. The Massachusetts’s Berkshires didn’t count. Now they surrounded me in my little rental car. Everywhere I looked, prairie, still brown from winter, patches of snow dotting the landscape. In the distance, the song America, The Beautiful, was right. Purple mountains majesty.

  It was beautiful. And freezing.

  It had been three days since I stormed out of Sam’s and Ashe’s hotel suite. I’d been so upset, so overwhelmed, I’d forgotten where I’d parked my car and had had to search two levels of the parking garage before I found it. If anyone had noticed my wet hair, they’d been smart not to comment.

  I’d gone home and fumed. And hated men, two in particular. How dare they not tell me I’d been a job to them! How dare they not tell me the second they saw me that my mother had lied to me and my father had been alive for years and years. He’d even outlived her.

  I’d never been close to Peter, my stepfather, so I couldn’t say for sure if he knew about Aiden Steele specifically. He had to know my mother had been with someone. I looked just like her; I didn’t come from a cabbage patch. While we didn’t dislike each other, Peter wasn’t the kind of guy to drop this kind of bomb on. If I didn’t know about my father, then it was possible he didn’t either.

  It wasn’t fair to him to share details I didn’t even know or understand. I’d tell him eventually, but not right now. Same thing with my girlfriends. Since I’d texted Cara, my friend and neighbor, my location at Sam’s insistence, I’d had to give her the dirty details of my one-night-stand, but that was all I told her. And I only mentioned one guy, not two.

  I was embarrassed, mortified and confused. So I called the one person who could help me—without me wanting to strangle or jump him. Riley Townsend. As Sam had said, the lawyer’s contact information had been on the top piece of paper in the folder. After reading through the details—most of which was about me—I had a long chat with the man.

  And after swearing him to secrecy, I went online and booked a flight to Montana. Time off had been easy. It wasn’t as if Alan had been able to argue with my request since I’d almost broken his fingers. He’d been low key, as if nothing more than a client meeting had happened, but had immediately signed off on my extended vacation.

  Now, I listened to my GPS telling me turn in a half mile as I took in the north end of town. Small. Tiny. So tiny there was perhaps three stop lights. Boston, with its ridiculous traffic, was light years away. But Barlow was pretty. Quaint. The people were nice. Laid back. They waved as they passed me on the road. The fact that I was recognizing that people were nice meant I needed to rethink where I lived.

  Montana. Could I live here? As I put on my blinker, then turned left onto one of the neighborhood side streets, I tried to picture myself in Barlow. I’d need a whole new wardrobe. A job. God, a job. What could I do here? I had to assume the cost of living was much lower. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t afford it. And that wasn’t even taking into account the inheritance. Riley had said flat out I was rich. A millionaire. If I were smart with my money and didn’t buy a Lamborghi
ni, I wouldn’t have to work again if I desired. No more Handsy Alan.

  But I could do that in Boston, too. The inheritance didn’t require me to live in Barlow, although I could live on Steele Ranch. It was mine along with my sisters. God. I had four of them. And as I pulled up in front of an attractive home with a wide porch, I was about to meet one of them.

  A sister. God. Besides Peter, I’d had no family since my mother had died. No grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.

  But now, I had a huge family. Riley—and a guy named Cord—were married to Kady and they had a daughter. The other sisters were Penny, Sarah and Cricket, but I lost track of names for their spouses/significant others because none of them had just one man. They each had two, and from what I heard, Cricket had three.

  It made me think of Sam and Ashe, how I’d had no issue with spending the night with both of them. Was it a Steele sister thing or what? I’d pushed thoughts of that night, of those two, down deep. Way deep, like buried in mud. Now wasn’t the time to stew and drink more wine. I was in Montana meeting a long-lost sister.

  My hands were damp inside my mittens and the car—and all the puffy clothing—felt suffocating all of a sudden. I was overwhelmed. Turning off the engine, I took a breath, then another.

  Sam and Ashe wouldn’t be here. I shook my head, as if I could shake those thoughts away.

  The front door opened and a woman with bright red hair came out onto the porch. She wore black leggings, thick socks and a turtleneck sweater in a bottle green. God, she was pretty. Smiling, she waved and then curled her fingers.

  I couldn’t turn the car back on and pull out of the driveway. I was nervous, not rude.