Rough Rider Read online

  “You all right, Red?” He waited with sweat beading his brow.

  “Dear God, yes. Don’t stop.”

  Dirk murmured another prayer of thanks. It felt so fucking good to be inside her, filling her. He laid her all the way back, wrapping her legs tightly around his flanks. Her eyes were shut as if lost in pure pleasure. He partially withdrew, only to drive back into her again, setting a steady and relentless rhythm of thrust and retreat, riding her slow and hard until her body vibrated beneath him. His balls tightened, drew up. He gripped her hips tightly, pinning her body against the table as he pumped in and out of her. Harder. Faster. Her hips met him in counterpoint until her inner muscles contracted around him in orgasmic waves.

  “Shit. So fucking good. Can’t hang on,” he groaned, driving into her again and again until a swell of sensation erupted. He squeezed his eyes shut on a groan, spending himself inside her in an explosive climax. Janice’s body still quivered with aftershocks, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “You OK, Red?” Dirk asked softly.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “More than OK.”

  Her expression brought a lump into his throat. He withdrew, physically depleted and mentally confused after a release that no amount of jacking off ever could have satisfied.

  He’d sworn not to let sexual frustration interfere with business, but all that went out the window almost the moment she’d walked into his kitchen. He’d thought he could hold himself in check, but he couldn’t even be in the same room with her without wanting her.

  Hell, she’d only come out for a job. He didn’t even want to think about how many acts of sexual harassment he’d just committed. He didn’t have a clue how to deal with himself—or with Janice. He jerked his jeans up and turned to the sink, feeling like the lowest kind of predator for taking advantage of her.

  He wet a towel with hot water for Janice, but when he turned back, his breath seized in his throat. She was buck naked and propped up on her elbows, hair tangled, face flushed, torso smeared with blueberry syrup, and a slow, shy, sexy-as-hell grin on her face. The vision jolted him to the core.

  She looked down at herself and shook her head with a chuckle. “You sure made a real mess of me—inside and out.”

  He was on her in two steps, marauding her mouth in a ferocious kiss that left them both reeling. He released her just as abruptly. “This towel ain’t gonna cut it, Red. You need a shower.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, but I’m feeling kinda sorry for those hungry cows.”

  “Another half hour won’t kill them,” he grunted.

  “A half hour? I can shower in ten minutes.”

  “I don’t think so. Blueberry stains. You’re gonna need some help cleaning all that syrup off. It’s dripped all over your back too.”

  “So you’re offering to scrub my back?” Janice’s smile grew, stretching to heart-stopping proportions.

  “Hell, I made the mess. Least I can do is clean it up properly.”

  “You are such a hypocrite!” She laughed. “If I recall, all this began when I tried to clean up your mess.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart. I manage my own messes. And believe me when I say I’ve had plenty of experience at it,” he added dryly.

  “Haven’t you ever let anyone else take care of you?” she asked, suddenly serious.

  “No. Never had to. I manage.”

  “But we all need help sometimes,” she argued.

  “And that’s why you’re here,” he answered back. “I need help with the ranch…and now you need help getting that syrup washed off.”

  Before she could open her mouth to argue further, he swept her up into his arms and carried her toward the bathroom. She looked down at his chest with an expression of mock dismay. “Now there’s syrup all over you too. Guess you’ll have to join me? You wash my back and I’ll wash yours?”

  “You mean scratch,” he corrected gruffly, using his elbow to nudge the bathroom door open.

  “Doesn’t fit the situation.” She grinned back at him.

  He set her down, jerked back the curtain, and turned on the shower. He waited for the water to heat up and then handed her a bar of soap. “Get in.”

  “You are too bossy by far, Dirk.”

  “I can get away with it because I am the boss. Now get in.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Already did.” He grinned. “And now I’ll wash you off.”

  “How do you expect to accomplish that without getting all wet?”

  “I’ll manage. Now get in the goddamn shower.”

  Janice crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl. “Only if you join me. It’s only fair.”

  “Fair?” He shook his head in growing irritation. “Look, Red. There’s a big fucking difference here. You’re not missing body parts.”

  “Seems to me you still have all the ones that count.”

  Dirk didn’t trust himself to answer that. Instead, he pushed her toward the shower and spun toward the door. “Come on out when you’re done. We’ve got work to do.”

  * * *

  Janice stared after him once more feeling hurt and bewildered. Until she’d suggested he undress, their exchange had been light and playful. Then he’d suddenly stormed out.

  She didn’t understand at all until she pulled back the curtain and saw the seat and metal bar on the wall—a handicapped equipped shower. It was only then that it sunk in that he wasn’t really rejecting her. He was embarrassed. Dirk was so strong and able that it hadn’t even occurred to her that he’d be so self-conscious about his injuries.

  She tied up her braid, stepped under the hot water, and briskly scrubbed herself. He’d made love to her almost fully clothed. She now understood that was intentional as well—he didn’t trust her. The thought both saddened and angered her, but trust was a two-way street. Sure he’d been through a lot, but he didn’t have an exclusive patent on pain and suffering. He had scars he was reluctant to reveal, so did she. Hers just weren’t as visible.

  Chapter 14

  Dirk was waiting for her outside, pacing and wanting to kick himself. Once more he’d been a jackass, lashing out at her for no good reason. He should be happy as hell just to have gotten laid, but the situation was exactly as he’d feared. Being with Janice made him crave everything he couldn’t have—a normal life.

  He’d accepted long ago, four years to be precise, that he’d never have the kind of freedom or relationship that others took for granted—especially where sex was concerned. It wasn’t just the prosthesis; his body was so scarred and mutilated that he’d never be able to reveal it to any woman in the light of day. Her pushing him to do so only reminded him of his inadequacies and frustrated the hell out of him.

  Needing a distraction, Dirk headed out to the hay barn to load up the tractor to feed the cattle. He hated having to start feeding hay so early in the season, but it was a cost he would have to bear at least until he could find better winter grazing. The summer in this part of the valley had been dry, which made for lean grass, so he’d left the cattle up on the mountain pastures as long as he’d dared, but it was past time to bring them back down. The temperature up there had already dropped below freezing at night and the higher elevations were covered with snow. They could get more any day. He’d already gathered most of the herd, but he couldn’t afford to lose the strays to wolves. He planned to go after them as soon as he got Janice settled. At least a light cover of snow would give him a better ability to track his missing stock.

  Dirk found the door to the shop open and his father working on the tractor.

  “’Bout time you showed yourself,” Justin Knowlton grunted.

  “It’s barely seven,” Dirk protested.

  “And I’ve already been out here for a solid hour. Hand me that wrench, would you?”

  “What’s wrong with the damn thing n
ow?” Dirk asked.

  “Looks like a hydraulic leak. I’ll probably have to go into town. We need a replacement hose. Why are you so late?”

  “I was occupied with a new hand I hired.”

  “Oh yeah?” The old man stood up with a groan and then looked around the shop. “Where is he?”

  “He is actually a she,” Dirk replied. “Do you remember Janice Combes?”

  “Yeah, I do. Didn’t she marry that Garrison boy you used to rodeo with?”

  “She did, but now she’s come back home. She’s been looking for ranch work, so I offered her a job.”

  “Did you now?” His father raised a pair of bushy brows. “Think she can handle it?”

  “Yeah, I can handle it,” Janice answered for herself. She entered the shop and extended her hand. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Knowlton.”

  Justin wiped his greasy hands on his coveralls before taking hers. “Been a long time, young lady.”

  “It has, but I’ve done just about everything when it comes to ranch work.” She nodded to the tractor. “Even fixing machinery.”

  “Oh yeah?” He slanted his son a dubious look. “Think you can tell me what’s wrong with this thing?”

  “Probably,” Janice said.

  Dirk interjected, “We don’t have time for you to grill her right now. I need that tractor running. You want me to go to town and get the part or are you gonna do it?”

  “I’ll go,” his father replied. “S’pose I’ll take the ol’ lady with me. Come by the house later?” he asked Janice. “Donna will want to see you.”

  “Sure, I’ll drop by for a few minutes before I leave.”

  He nodded to Dirk. “While I get that hose replaced, maybe you’ll want to go ahead and take a look at the fence in the south section? The cows pushed part of it over.”

  “Already on it,” Dirk answered. “Took a look at it yesterday. Gotta replace a few rotted posts. Guess I might as well tend to it now.”

  It took an effort to temper his impatience. His father had supposedly turned operations over to him three years ago. It rankled whenever the old man forgot who was in charge.

  “Later then.” His father gave a curt nod.

  “Ready to get to work?” Dirk asked Janice.

  “Not quite yet,” she said, once his father was out of earshot. “This is new territory for me too, but it’s my turn to apologize. I’m sorry, Dirk. I didn’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “How you feel about your…loss.”

  “And now you think you do?” He scowled back at her and then started throwing fencing tools into the utility cart of the ATV. “I ain’t buying that, sweetheart. No one can understand until they’ve walked in my boots—or maybe I should make that singular,” he added bitterly. “I only wear a pair for appearances’ sake.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “Please. Don’t be like this.”

  “Like what?” he snapped, jerking his arm away.

  “I don’t know…so…so…angry. Sometimes you seem like the old Dirk, and then at others you just turn like a rattlesnake. What happened to you over there?”

  “What happened?” He glared back at her. “I’ll tell you what fucking happened! I gave six years of my life and half my leg for nothing!”

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” she protested. “Maybe I didn’t believe in the war, but you were doing what you thought was right. I admire that and I respect you for it, but I still don’t understand why you did it. Why, Dirk?”

  His gaze met hers with a quelling look. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to understand—”

  He hadn’t talked about the war to anyone. Ever. Not since the long torturous sessions with the military shrink at Walter Reed. She was pushing him again, but he’d already been an asshole to her once today. Maybe once was enough.

  He forced a deep breath in and then slowly exhaled it. “No more apologies,” he cut her off. “Let’s just move beyond all that, all right? There’s a shitload of work to do around here. C’mon. I’ll start by showing you around the place.”

  * * *

  Janice spent the day as Dirk’s shadow, following his routine. Most of the morning he’d shown her where everything was, from tools to first aid, and then they’d ridden through the herd checking for sickness and injuries. It was all just mundane ranch work and nothing she couldn’t have handled on her own, but she was secretly happy just to be with him.

  After he’d shown her around and checked the herd, they’d returned to the shop to find the tractor repaired. Janice then offered to load up the hay and haul it out to the cattle. “I know how to operate the bale splitter,” she insisted.

  “All right,” he agreed after a moment of hesitation. “If you can take care of feeding, I’ll load up the fence posts.”

  She was proud that he’d trusted her to do the job and even more that she’d surprised him with her knowledge of farm equipment. After feeding, they’d taken the ATV out to repair the fence. Janice rode behind Dirk with her arms around his waist, and her face mere inches from his back. She loved the smell of him, all musky male with a hint of sweat and spice.

  They’d spoken very little since the morning, mainly just exchanging questions and answers, but she was OK with that. She could sense that he still needed to decompress, that his distress from the morning still simmered close to the surface. In her experience, silence and mindless farm chores were the most therapeutic to a troubled soul.

  They worked together with Dirk stretching the barb wire and Janice pounding the staples into each post. They’d finished the last strand of the last post when Dirk cut the wire with a grunt of satisfaction, straightened, and tossed the stretcher and wire cutters into the ATV basket. Janice’s hammer joined the rest of the tools.

  She stood as well with a low moan and a long stretch and then stepped away a pace to admire their handiwork. She massaged her lower back. It was killing her after hours of manual labor that she was no longer accustomed to. She didn’t even want to think how much her abused body was going to ache the next morning.

  “You stiff?” Dirk’s voice broke two hours of near silence.

  “Yeah”—she laughed—“but it’s nothing a couple of Advil and a long hot bath won’t fix.”

  “It’s time for a break anyway,” he said. “Let’s go back to the house and I’ll fix us something to eat.”

  She hopped behind him on the ATV but they didn’t speak again the whole ride back to the bunkhouse, or while he fixed a simple meal of grilled cheese sandwiches. Just being in his kitchen again had her on edge. She sat at the same table where they’d joined so passionately only hours ago. She’d never be able to sit here again without thinking of him moving inside her. She wanted to feel him again. With his back to her, she was free to watch him unobserved. Her gaze tracked over him, inciting a quiver of desire. Even injured as he was, Dirk was still one big, strong, and very desirable man.

  Dirk worked with a fascinating economy of movement, his actions in the kitchen just as brisk and efficient as he’d been setting fence posts. In minutes he placed a plate in front of her and then pulled a couple of beers from the fridge, popped the tops, and handed her one.

  “Go ahead,” he urged.

  Janice took a big gooey bite of her sandwich and rolled her eyes in rapture. It was absolutely delicious. Definitely not Wonder Bread and Kraft American. “What kind of cheese is this, anyway? It’s fabulous.”

  “Gouda with fresh basil on sourdough.” He took a long swig from his bottle but didn’t touch his sandwich. “You ever miss him?”

  “Who?” His question had taken her completely off guard.

  “Grady. You said Cody adjusted quickly to his death, but what about you?” His gaze searched hers. “Can’t be easy losing someone you’ve shared years of your l
ife with.”

  Janice didn’t want to sound cold, but she also couldn’t lie. “You asked if I missed him. Maybe I miss the man he used to be, but not who he became. Things changed…he changed. There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know, Dirk. Stuff I don’t want to talk about.”

  “Maybe I know more than you think. He and I traveled together a long time. I know how he was, especially with women. I know how he treated them. Did he hurt you?”

  She looked away. “Please. It’s an ugly story that I don’t want to talk about. I just want to move beyond it.” She took another bite but it might have become sawdust between slices of cardboard. She’d been starving moments ago, but now her appetite was replaced by a giant knot in her stomach at the thought of reliving the nightmare. She pushed her plate away and watched him watching her. “Look, Dirk, I didn’t press you when you didn’t want to talk about the marines.”

  “That’s different,” he said.

  “How? I’ve been through a hell of my own.”

  “Then tell me. We’re damned well gonna talk about this, Red. I have some Pendleton or Jack Daniel’s if you need fortification, but you’re not leaving here until you tell me everything that happened. There’s stuff I need to know. Did you love him?”

  Janice sighed. There was no point in fighting him. He’d either pull it from her piece by agonizing piece, or she could just bite the bullet and get it over with once and for all.

  “No, Dirk. I didn’t love him.”

  “Then why did you do it? Why’d you take up with Grady?”

  “I told you why! My father was sick. I needed help and he was there.” She’d been desperate and felt like she had no one else to turn to. She’d even thought she might grow to love Grady in time, but she hadn’t really known him at all.

  “You told me that part, but it doesn’t explain why you married him.” He was watching her too closely. He suspected there was more to the story and there was.