I apply knee pressure to move Cinders into gear and she takes off at a kilter, keen to be out under the stars for a night time run. She's worked herself up into a good sweat by the time I unsaddle and tie her up at the hitching rail in front of McDools. I see the pick-up parked across, so I know Rafe's here. I smooth Cinders and quickly calm her down.
“Be back soon. Soon as I've got our girl.”
I don’t know how Cinders is going to feel about having to share me with Dallyce but that's a bridge to cross once I claim her. And I will make her mine, no doubt about it now. The way my heart is racing, I need that girl in my life and in my bed. My cock is already unfurling with eagerness to see her.
“I'll bring you back a drink in two ticks,” I tell the only other female that's ever claimed my heart and head up the wooden steps to slam straight through the doors of the saloon.
I take in the entire joint in one circling stare.
“Whattup Shea,” Edie calls out from behind the bar. “Why are you standing there like Two-Hand-Luke?”
I realize she's right, I'm standing in front of the door like I'm ready to draw. Relaxing the tension across the back of my shoulders running into my taut biceps, I stride across to the bar and step up next to Quint, sitting at a shot and chaser, shooting the shit with Edie.
“Rafe been here long?” I grit out, forcing myself not to wade on over to the pool table where Dallyce is holding her cue like a staff, watching the guy she's playing with take his shot.
“'Bout an hour I guess,” Edie says.
Quint nods, not looking round. I know he takes everything in though. McDools is about the only place he ever hangs, outside of his forge on the ranch. He's a tough sort but a better horseshoe smith never lived. Old Foxworth, the ranch owner and our boss, has never been one for the factory made shoes and since Chloe came back from Europe with a load of fancy ideas, nothing but hand-forged will do for Foxworth horses.
“Those two girls are underage,” I tell her. “You could get in trouble if the Sheriff stops by.”
“Don't blame her,” Quint immediately steps up to defend her. “She carded them and Rafe told her it was all good. If she could lose her license, it's on you guys.”
“It's okay, I'm taking them outta here, now” I say with my hands raised for cool.
I've never seen Quint get all protective over anything but I know how he feels. Looking over at the pool table, which I've been clocking non-stop from the corner of my eye since I came in, I see Dallyce laughing too loud. It sets every cell in my body blazing that she's having a good time with some other guy but me.
When she bends over, one foot forward in front of the other so one ass cheek lifts higher in those skin tight jeans, I almost shoot my fucking load just looking at her. She's wearing a low-cut top and although I can't see her half-exposed round tits, from the way her opponent's gurning down, I know they look spectacular and I see red. Like a bull coming out of its pen I storm over there and grab her arm so she ruins her shot.
“What the fuck are you doing,” she yells, trying to snatch her arm away from my grip but no go.
“We're leaving.”
“Hey Mister, you better -” the young guy she playing with in every sense, tries it.
“I better what?” I round on him, towering tall and sending my chest to maximum shield width.
Bring it on. I need to fist something to the ground right about now. He backs off with his hands raised in submission. Good move.
The little filly on the other hand isn't so easy to dominate. She's thrashing and bucking in my hand like a wayward colt. Then she lifts her pretty thigh and plants her pointed toe on my shin. It hurts like hell and with light flashing behind my lids, before I know it, I grab her pliant body, lift her up and over my shoulder and storm out of the bar with all eyes on us.
I'm lucky I make it to the cool air before I lose my shit, what with having her tits pressed into the back of my shoulder and her high round ass under my palm.
Chapter EIGHT
Dallyce
I watched Shea Butler as he rode into the lot through the window, looking like he was on the run from the devil. Even through the glass, I could tell he was steamed up about something. My heart leaps up as he walks into the bar with the power and confidence of a man that knows what he wants and has come to take it. His eyes are ablaze with something that could get me burned.
Then disillusionment sinks in when I see he hasn’t come for me after all. He heads to the bar to hang with some rough guy with blackened hands and doesn’t even look my way. At least he didn’t bring Nissa along. Because that would have been a match in a powder barrel, for him to shove my face in his dalliance with a woman his own age.