Maybe not his best idea, but he'd liked having her arm around his neck, her hair whipping in his face. And she smelled so damned good. He watched her rub her ass as she walked down to the water and reasoned it hadn't been too comfortable for her, either, but she hadn't complained. He opened his mouth to warn her about snakes, but she was being careful on her own. The smell of diesel dissipated on the breeze as he stood on the running board.
"It's so clear," she said, and dipped down to stick her fingers in the running water. "And cold!" She folded her hand against her belly to warm it. "Does it lead to a stock tank?"
He inclined his head down the hill. "Just over there. When I bought the place, it was damn near dry, just a mud puddle. The rains this winter have built it up again, but that was a damned scary sight."
"Yet you bought it anyway."
He lifted a shoulder. "It was cheap."
She lowered herself to the freshly mown bank and lifted her face toward the sun. Times like these, he forgot their past, forgot he was supposed to be mad at her. Hell, if he was really mad at her, would he have brought her out here, wasted two good days working inside the house instead of repairing the fences like he'd planned? He didn't want to linger on his motivation where she was concerned.
"So are you going to quit riding and be a gentleman rancher?"
He snorted and sat beside her, legs folded, arms draped over his knees. "I want to earn the money while I can. This place won't pay for itself for a long time." It was a terrifying thought, actually. He'd gotten a good deal on it because of the drought, depleted his savings almost to nothing, but it was paid for. His truck and RV were free and clear, and the tractor. But the place needed repairs and he needed livestock to pay for it. He didn't mind living out of his trailer while he fixed the place up, but he needed a source of income.
"You could get Liam to go in with you. He looks like he's doing all right."
Luke snorted. "He spends money before he makes it. He gets hurt, he's screwed."
She plucked a blade of Johnson grass that the mower had missed and twirled it between her fingers. "You could find a rich wife."
He chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe one who lets me say 'tits.'"
She wrinkled her nose. "Good luck with that."
When she started to get up, he pinned her to the ground, his hands on either side of her hips. "Maybe one who likes sex on the bank of the creek."
She looked at him through her lashes, a teasing smile on her lips. "Maybe if you hadn't scared someone to death with talk of snakes, you might not need a wife for that."
He shifted so his hips were between her knees, and pressed forward until his fly was against her pussy. "I have my gun."
Her breathing hitched, and he took advantage of her indecision to kiss her, long and deep, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, savoring the taste of her. She responded as she always did, fast and eager, and he rubbed his growing dick against the seam of her jeans, making her moan. He pinched her nipple through her shirt, and she ground her hips up against him.
But the stubble of the newly mown area bit into his palm, and he didn't want to mar her soft skin by screwing her here. Instead, he pulled back, kneeling between her legs and reached a hand to her. She blinked.
"What?"
"Ground's too rough."
She didn't say anything, only put her hand in his and let him haul her to her feet. She leaned into him a moment and lifted her face to his. He kissed her softly, then turned her and shoved her gently up the bank. With a swing in her hips, she led the way to the tractor. She waited by a rear tire for him to get situated, then stepped up on the running board, then the floorboard, and swung a leg across his hips, so she sat facing him, her breasts against his chest, her pussy riding his fly.
"Turn it on," she murmured.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Turn it on, or you on?"
"Yes," was all she said.
He reached around her and twisted the key
"It's so clear," she said, and dipped down to stick her fingers in the running water. "And cold!" She folded her hand against her belly to warm it. "Does it lead to a stock tank?"
He inclined his head down the hill. "Just over there. When I bought the place, it was damn near dry, just a mud puddle. The rains this winter have built it up again, but that was a damned scary sight."
"Yet you bought it anyway."
He lifted a shoulder. "It was cheap."
She lowered herself to the freshly mown bank and lifted her face toward the sun. Times like these, he forgot their past, forgot he was supposed to be mad at her. Hell, if he was really mad at her, would he have brought her out here, wasted two good days working inside the house instead of repairing the fences like he'd planned? He didn't want to linger on his motivation where she was concerned.
"So are you going to quit riding and be a gentleman rancher?"
He snorted and sat beside her, legs folded, arms draped over his knees. "I want to earn the money while I can. This place won't pay for itself for a long time." It was a terrifying thought, actually. He'd gotten a good deal on it because of the drought, depleted his savings almost to nothing, but it was paid for. His truck and RV were free and clear, and the tractor. But the place needed repairs and he needed livestock to pay for it. He didn't mind living out of his trailer while he fixed the place up, but he needed a source of income.
"You could get Liam to go in with you. He looks like he's doing all right."
Luke snorted. "He spends money before he makes it. He gets hurt, he's screwed."
She plucked a blade of Johnson grass that the mower had missed and twirled it between her fingers. "You could find a rich wife."
He chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe one who lets me say 'tits.'"
She wrinkled her nose. "Good luck with that."
When she started to get up, he pinned her to the ground, his hands on either side of her hips. "Maybe one who likes sex on the bank of the creek."
She looked at him through her lashes, a teasing smile on her lips. "Maybe if you hadn't scared someone to death with talk of snakes, you might not need a wife for that."
He shifted so his hips were between her knees, and pressed forward until his fly was against her pussy. "I have my gun."
Her breathing hitched, and he took advantage of her indecision to kiss her, long and deep, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, savoring the taste of her. She responded as she always did, fast and eager, and he rubbed his growing dick against the seam of her jeans, making her moan. He pinched her nipple through her shirt, and she ground her hips up against him.
But the stubble of the newly mown area bit into his palm, and he didn't want to mar her soft skin by screwing her here. Instead, he pulled back, kneeling between her legs and reached a hand to her. She blinked.
"What?"
"Ground's too rough."
She didn't say anything, only put her hand in his and let him haul her to her feet. She leaned into him a moment and lifted her face to his. He kissed her softly, then turned her and shoved her gently up the bank. With a swing in her hips, she led the way to the tractor. She waited by a rear tire for him to get situated, then stepped up on the running board, then the floorboard, and swung a leg across his hips, so she sat facing him, her breasts against his chest, her pussy riding his fly.
"Turn it on," she murmured.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Turn it on, or you on?"
"Yes," was all she said.
He reached around her and twisted the key
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