Wrangled Page 9

  Jamison had read Patrick and Shamus the fucking riot act for not watching out for Kitten at the Silky Spur. Based on the way they were all but falling over themselves for her and Kady, they’d gotten the message loud and clear.

  Since then, they’d been on their best behavior, which was why they popped up, their chairs scraping across the wood floor in their haste, when Jamison said, “You know what the rule is,” Jamison told the table at large. He stood and grabbed his plate, winked at Kitten. “He who cooks, doesn’t clean.”

  They grabbed as many empty dishes as possible and beelined right for the kitchen on Jamison’s heels.

  Sutton, one of the other hands, remained in his seat, arms crossed, slowly shaking his head. He was older than the others, close to my age and had spent years in the military. He was ruthless enough to shoot the fucker that had gone after Kady. A perfect, single shot right through the heart. If he’d been at the Silky Spur last week, no way would he have let Kitten out of his sight.

  Riley stood, leaned down and kissed the top of Kady’s head, murmured in her ear, “I’ll get the dessert. I’m looking forward to the whipped cream.” Her face turned beet red and she refused to look up from her plate. I had to wonder what the three of them had done with the sweet topping.

  “Everything was delicious, Penny,” Sutton said, placing his napkin on the table.

  She’d gone simple with hamburgers and all the fixings, potato wedges and a salad. Brownies—with whipped cream. And she’d been smart enough to know big men ate big quantities and had made tons.

  Beneath the table, I took hold of Kitten’s hand, squeezed it. She blushed, pleased by the praise. She’d been soaking it up all week, relaxing and settling into her life in Barlow. Out from under her mother’s ruthless dictates, she was blossoming. The congresswoman had called a few times, but Kitten had let them all go to voicemail. While I would never lay a hand on a woman, I wanted to with Nancy Vandervelk. She’d used her daughter’s need for motherly affection as a weapon. If Kitten toed the line, did exactly what her mother wanted, she was given scraps of attention. Affection. If she didn’t…Kitten knew what would happen and hadn’t been prepared for the consequences. That was why she was twenty-two and had just finished a Master’s program in an area where she had no interest.

  No longer. I had to agree with Kitten. Aiden Steele had saved her. His death had brought out the truth of her past. No, it had pulled out all of her mother’s lies. Knowing this allowed Kitten to understand more about herself and begin to break away. The fuck-all was, her mother had made her feel like the real Penelope Vandervelk was a failure for wanting something different than her mother. To be different than her overly ambitious step-brothers and step-sister. But she was only a Vandervelk on paper. Her personality, her spirit, was all Steele.

  She hadn’t confronted her mother yet, but it was only a matter of time. When she truly believed Jamison and I were around for good, for forever, she’d have the confidence, the support in place to finish the job.

  How she didn’t completely trust yet only proved how many wounds her mother had inflicted. She gave herself to us wholeheartedly, but until she resolved things with her mother, she’d never be completely free. Because of that, she’d moved from house to house, Jamison’s and mine, depending on whether I was working. Soon we’d work out where we could all live together. One house for the three of us. And all the kids that she was going to give us. She’d get the real family she wanted so badly. That I wanted to give her.

  She’d shared so much of herself in the past seven days—she was allergic to blueberries, loved action-adventure movies, liked the color purple based on the sheer quantity of sexy lavender lingerie she taunted us with, and was as ravenous for us as we were for her. The only casualty were the sexy panties we ripped off her.

  She was far from a virgin now. That first night, she’d been right about us. We’d been thinking she’d be all tentative and fearful of two big men and even bigger dicks wanting to get in her, all the dark and dirty things we wanted to do to her just because she’d never fucked before.

  She’d told us off, stomped that cute little cowboy boot and had never looked back. I smiled to myself thinking about that, that the only time she did look back was when I had her in my bed and took her from behind and she told me deeper. Harder. More.

  I shifted in my seat, my dick hard, just thinking about how she’d pushed back, giving as much as she got until we came together in a hot, sweaty mess.

  As for the rest? Kitten was here with us and that alone allowed me to be patient. Patient for her to be ready for more, for the next step. A ring on her finger. That would probably happen in the next week or so, when she most likely missed her period. I’d done a rotation in OB/GYN during my residency, knew all about the best days to get pregnant. For Kitten, until I knew about her cycle, I couldn’t actually calculate the days she’d be ovulating, but was pretty sure we’d hit every one of them, fucking her and filling her up sometimes twice a day. She was young, healthy. I had no doubt we’d bred her.

  When I groaned, low in my chest, she turned to look at me, a little frown in her brow. Taking the hand I held, I moved it to my lap, settled it on my dick. Her eyes flared wide.

  As soon as we knew for sure, we’d be hightailing it to the courthouse to make it official. While she couldn’t legally marry both of us, she’d have the protection my name provided. He and I had talked about it and legally, she’d be mine. But that didn’t mean she’d be his any less. She knew she was both of ours. The mixed cum on her thighs was proof. That baby would know not just one dad, but two. Know the love Kitten never had. Until now.

  Kitten cupped my dick, gave it a slight squeeze.

  I stood, tugged on her hand and lifted her out of the chair. “We’ll be right back.”

  As I led her out of the room and down the hall to Aiden Steele’s office, I heard a few chuckles, but I didn’t pay them any mind. As soon as I closed the door to the masculine room, I undid my belt buckle.

  “You want my dick, Kitten?”

  She looked up at me with very precocious eyes. When she licked her lips, her pink tongue flicking out, I knew we no longer had a sexual innocent. She was now a vixen who knew just how to get what she wanted.

  “Oh yes,” she all but purred. “The plug you put in me is driving me crazy.”

  Before she’d left Jamison’s cabin, I’d worked the smallest plug into her. She’d taken bigger over the past week, but I’d wanted this one to stay in over the meal, so she’d remember who she belonged to. To have in the back of her mind that one day soon we’d claim her together. For me, it was hot as fuck knowing she had it in her all that time.

  She started to fall to her knees before me, but I caught her by the arm. I slowly shook my head, kept her from kneeling and taking me in her mouth. “You know the rule. Ladies first.”

  “But we have to be quick. I don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”

  I walked her backwards toward the wall. “Kitten, everyone knows what we’re doing. And as for fast—”

  “Oh!” she gasped when I lifted her up, cupped her glorious ass in my palms until she wrapped her legs around my waist.

  “—I’ll have you coming all over me in about thirty seconds.”

  She was so small, so light, that I leaned in and pinned her in place as I pulled myself free.

  “Still bare beneath this pretty dress?”

  Nodding, she bit her lip and rested her head back against the wood paneling.

  “Still like the plug?”

  She nodded again, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink.

  When I found her slick heat, slid over the plush folds she thought were too big, I groaned and pre-cum seeped from me. She had me primed and ready to fuck at all times. And the feel of her, all swollen and ready for me, was too much. My finger bumped the base of the plug. I couldn’t wait.

  Lowering her, she slid right down onto my dick. She gasped out and I leaned in, kissed her neck. “Shh, Kitten. Don���t let anyone hear your little cries.”

  I pulled my hips back, plunged deep.

  “More?” I said, breathing in her soft scent.

  “More,” she whispered.

  I didn’t hold back then. Jamison and I had trained her to come all over our cocks, her pussy responding to us beautifully. I knew her body, knew the spots inside I had to stroke that would set her off. And I aimed for them, rubbed over them until she came. I felt her begin to milk me, pull me in, try to hold me as deep as possible, as if her body craved my cum. She had her lips pinched closed as her cheeks flushed, her moans stifled.

  “That’s my good girl.” Jamison had told me about her trigger word, that it shamed her to be considered naughty, even if she were anything but. Instead, we praised her often, ensuring she knew she was absolutely perfect.

  I thrust deep two more times and followed her over, filling her right up. Load after load of cum until she’d drained me dry. Until my brain was fried and I could do nothing but cup her ass with one hand, press against the wall with the other.

  She couldn’t get down on her own. I was too tall and she was impaled on my dick. Little aftershocks rippled along her pussy and I was ready to go again.

  But Kitten was right. A quickie was all fine and good. Everyone understood the need behind one of those, but anything longer was bad form.

  I bent my knees, finally set her on her feet, my cock slipping free. With the hem of her dress still caught up at her waist, I couldn’t miss the hot gush of cum that slipped down her thigh.

  “I don’t think that was thirty seconds,” she said.

  Nope. I grinned, feeling very virile. “Tonight, when Jamison and I get you between us, I promise we’ll go a lot longer. All night, if we don’t fuck you unconscious.”

  She grinned at that. “Promises, promises,” she replied, using the same words she’d uttered the night we’d first taken her. She slipped out the door and down the hall to the powder room before I could reply. Vixen.

  I righted my pants, then returned to the dining room.

  13

  BOONE

  Jamison was in his seat, the table empty of everything from the meal, Sutton leaning forward with his elbows on the table. I heard the sound of washing dishes coming from the kitchen. Cord had moved to a seat closer to the other men, Kady on his lap.

  Jamison gave me a once over and only the slight turn of his lip indicated he knew what I’d been up to with Kitten. “Sutton was telling us about a man who came to the ranch yesterday.”

  I stilled as I pulled out my chair. “Oh?”

  Sutton glanced up at me. Nodded. He had close-cropped brown hair, and I could see the crease in it from his hat. His eyes were dark, intense. He was quiet and calm like Jamison, but he had a sharp edge to him, as if he’d seen things, lived through hardships or horrors that changed him. And that kept him quiet. So when he spoke, Jamison listened. Hell, we all did.

  “Said he was a surveyor.”

  Riley came back in through the door with a platter of brownies in his hands and a can of the spray whipped cream tucked under his arm.

  “Know anything about a surveyor?” Jamison asked him.

  He put the platter down in the center of the table, tossed the whipped cream to Cord who caught it easily one handed.

  “No.”

  “He shared his ID and I wrote the info down. He’s a small fish in the big oil pond.”

  Shit. This wasn’t good.

  Jamison’s eyebrows went up and he met my gaze as he responded. “Big oil? Which company?”

  “Borstar. Ever heard of it?”

  I shook my head as Jamison said, “Actually, yes.”

  I frowned.

  “Last week,” he explained. “Penny mentioned being offered a job with them. You were working.” The last, he said to me.

  “A job offer with whom?” Kitten asked.

  I turned at her return, looked her over. So fucking gorgeous. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but otherwise there was no outward sign that she’d just been fucked. Her casual dress was a pale blue and matched her eyes. Not that it was immodest; the cut of it was like a t-shirt, but fell to her knees. And was perfect for easy access. Now I knew why Cord and Riley loved Kady in dresses so much.

  Jamison held out his arm and Kitten went over to him and he wrapped it about her waist. Her being so small, they were almost the same height with him seated.

  “When you talked with your mother last week, you mentioned Borstar,” he said, his voice soft and gentle in the way he only had for her.

  “That’s right. I had job offers from Borstar and two others.” She bit her lip. “A small company in Iceland and the last wasn’t an oil company, but does soil clean-up that contracts solely for Super Fund sites.”

  I’d heard about places that were classified as Super Funds, like the town of Shelby a few hours north of Barlow, and how the government was required to mitigate environmental damage. As for Iceland, I knew little. I’d never even heard of Borstar.

  “Sutton met a man from Borstar who showed up on your land,” Jamison added.

  Your land. It did belong to her, and Kady, and the three other mystery sisters.

  Kitten looked to Sutton. “A surveyor,” he repeated.

  “He’d be looking at topography, geographical specifications like rivers or a creek. Large rock formations, outcroppings, buttes.” She frowned, considered, then glanced at Kady. “You didn’t ask for one?”

  “Me?” Kady’s eyes widened in surprise, then she laughed. “I’m an east coast girl and wouldn’t know a butte from my butt. I’ve barely figured out how to ride a horse.”

  Jamison chuckled, stroked his knuckles down Kitten’s cheek. “That’s true, about the horse part, but she’s getting much better at riding.” He softened his teasing with a wink.

  I saw Kitten’s cheeks heat as she glanced at the floor.

  “Then what was he doing here? Looking for oil?” I asked. “Can someone just look at land and know there’s oil on it?”

  I wasn’t involved with Steele ranch. While I was born and raised in Barlow and considered myself a little bit of a cowboy, I was also a city slicker. A doctor. I spent my days in the ER dealing with everything from the flu to alcohol poisoning to cardiac arrest. A completely different experience than riding the range on the back of a horse. Even though I was friends with Jamison, I didn’t come to the ranch often, maybe a few times a year if one of the guys were sick. Eight years I’d been away, at college and then hospitals from Chicago to Austin for my residency and other years training to be a doctor.

  “It’s possible to find patches of oil that have seeped to the surface. Unlikely, but scientifically possible,” Kitten said. “But you can study rocks, see if there’s a presence of hydrocarbons.”

  She stopped there, looked around. While none of us had glazed looks on our faces, she was definitely talking over our heads. She recognized that and looked to Sutton. “Did he have any equipment with him? Something to collect rocks or soil samples. Maybe a machine that looks like a fancy-looking metal detector?”

  Sutton shook his head. “He had a small backpack, nothing bigger than what a kid would take to school, water bottle in the side pocket. He had his phone out, so maybe he was taking some pictures?”

  “A company that wants you to work for them has a surveyor stop by your property,” I said aloud. This wasn’t over. Sutton may have driven the man off, but it wasn’t over. I could feel it.

  “Maybe our father made arrangements with them before he died?” Kady wondered aloud.

  “It’s possible, sweetness, but we didn’t find any record of it when we cleaned out his office, his papers,” Riley told her. “There’s no mention anywhere of any kind of oil or mineral rights leasing. As far as I know, the land’s untouched. If Borstar made a deal with your daddy, they’d be in touch with me about any dividend checks since I’m executor. Those you can’t hide or avoid the taxes on.”

  “True,” Kady finished, shrugging her shoulders.

  An old arrangement with Steele was a plausible scenario, but Riley was right. He’d have gotten a letter from the IRS if there were any unpaid taxes.

  I took hold of Kitten’s chin, had her look at me. “I think you should reach out to your contact there, see what’s going on.”

  Kitten met my gaze. She had her bottom lip between her teeth, a sure sign her smart mind was at work and thinking about more than just hydrocarbons. “All right. Do you think we’re in danger?” she asked, glancing at Kady.

  The women had had several girls-only get-togethers since they first met at my house. No doubt Kady had shared what had happened to her.

  Cord had Kady tucked on his lap, an arm about her waist. While I saw the hard glint in his eyes at the possibility, there was no way he was letting anything happen to her. No fucking chance.

  “While he seemed harmless enough, the guy’s a credible threat. I’ll call Archer,” Sutton said, getting to his feet.

  Archer was the town’s sheriff. He’d been involved with Kady’s murder-for-hire case and knew to take this seriously. While Jamison and I had gone to high school around the same time with him, he was close with Sutton. If they ever found a woman, they’d definitely share her. Someday.

  “I’ll also update the men, tell them to keep an eye out,” Sutton added. After the fuck-up at the Silky Spur, they’d be watching. “I’ll keep you posted on what Archer says.”

  Strange men on Steele Ranch land was not a good thing, especially when the women seemed to be directly involved. It couldn’t just be coincidence that Kitten inherited and Borstar followed.

  He gave the women a nod, then strode into the kitchen where the dishes were still being washed, letting the door swing back and forth behind him.

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