Chapter 8

The delicious sensation of fingers dancing across the skin of her back woke Rusty. She opened her eyes and remained still, enjoying the feel of Clay’s warm solid body beneath her, a cool breeze wafting across her and his hands moving slowly down her back to cup her rear.

She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “Anyone ever told you that you’re about the most beautiful thing that ever walked this world?” he asked in a low, slow drawl that sent a shiver racing through her.

“Not that I recall, Mr. Russell.”

“Mr. Russell?” he asked with an arch of his brow. “Honey, we’re way past that.”

“Hmmm, maybe,” she teased.

“Maybe hell,” he chuckled and rolled them over so that he had her pinned to the ground. “No more Mr. Russell. It’s Clay. Come on now, it’s a short word. Only one syllable.”

“Nope,” she said with a shake of her head and pushed him away so she could sit.

She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, sighing as the muscles loosened. Clay watched with glittering eyes, propped on his side on the ground.

“Aw now, Sassy, what’s a man to think if you won’t even say his name after a night of lovin’?”

Rusty laughed. “Well to start, it was morning. And to say a night of lovin’ implies that it was something that lasted for hours on end and as I recall…”

Clay growled and silenced her when he sat and grabbed her hair to pull her face to his for a kiss that sent fire singing in her veins. His tongue parted her lips and plundered her mouth, staking his claim not only with the kiss. With his left hand fisted in her hair, he held her captive, running his right hand slowly up her bare inner thigh.

Rusty returned the kiss with equal passion. Having sampled the delights of making love with Clay had her anticipating what was to come. She thought perhaps to just let him have his way when his questing fingers stroked her clit, bringing it immediately to life. But then she changed her mind. Maybe it was time to let Clay feel some of her fire.

“Wait.” She pulled back from his kiss and stilled his hand. “I want you to come with me.”

“That’s where I was headed darlin’,” he replied as she stood.

“No, come with me somewhere.”

For a moment Clay didn’t move. “Please,” Rusty said and extended her hand.

Clay got to his feet as Rusty slid on her boots and gathered up her clothes. “You might want your boots,” she commented as she started picking up his clothes from the ground.

“Uh, you plan on stomping around in the woods in just your boots, honey?”

Rusty gave him a sassy smile. “You got a problem with that, Mr. Russell?”

Clay rolled his eyes. “Darlin’, I’d rather look at you naked than just about anything I can think of, but don’t you think it’s a little risky running around naked in the woods?”

“Oh, I get it, you’re chicken,” she teased. “Well okay, fine. Get dressed then.”

Clay cursed and grabbed a boot. In seconds he was standing with his boots on and his fists on his hips, looking so darn delicious that she almost changed her mind.

“Okay, where to?” he asked.

“Follow me, cowboy,” she said and started hiking up the hill.

Clay had logged plenty of miles hiking the countryside in Arizona, but never in his life had he hiked naked. He wouldn’t be likely to admit it to anyone, but it was kind of exciting. The wind was cool but the sun warm on his skin. And watching Rusty’s enticing little ass sway in front of him was an added treat. So much of a treat that he paid little attention to the direction they walked. He was far too caught up in watching that tight ass, and the sway and bounce of Rusty’s breasts when she turned occasionally to look at him.

His dick was at full attention, pointing ahead like a compass, aimed directly at Rusty’s backside. He sure hoped they didn’t encounter anyone. He didn’t like the idea of trying to explain running around in the woods buck naked, sporting a champion hard-on.

Rusty beckoned him as she pushed back thick branches of cedar. “This way.”

Clay followed her through the thick stand of cedar. They emerged into a clearing and he stopped dead in his tracks. A rolling pasture sloped downhill from where they stood, the sun lighting the tall grass into golden fronds. Tall oaks and ancient cedars grew in random stands and the land stretched in all directions as far as he could see, guarded over by a sky so blue it seemed painted on.

At the foot of the hill they stood upon was a small lake, glistening in the sunlight. As he watched he saw a fish breach the surface of the water and fall with a splash back beneath the surface.

“Are we trespassing?” he asked, feeling sure that the land had to belong to someone.

“Nope,” she grinned. “Welcome to Blackhawk Ranch, Mr. Russell.”

Clay grinned at the teasing tone in her voice and the emphasis she put on his name. He’d not had time to ride the whole of the ranch, and had no idea the spread was so beautiful. “It’s beautiful, Rusty.”

The teasing quality left her voice. “It’s home.”

Clay’s grin faded. What he heard in Rusty’s voice spoke of roots that ran deep, of belonging to and being one with a place. It was something he understood to a degree. He had a connection to the land of the Circle R. But understanding came from knowing his brother Chase. When Chase looked out over the land of his own spread, his home, his face wore the same look as Rusty’s wore now. It was an expression that said “this is where I belong.”

Rusty broke the somber moment, “Race ya!” she shouted and took off running toward the lake.

Clay’s long legs ate up the distance her head start afforded her in short measure. He scooped her up with one arm and without breaking stride, tossed her over his shoulder, clutching his clothes in his free hand. She laughed and screamed all the way to the foot of the hill.

When Clay neared the edge of the water he tossed his clothes onto the soft grass and without slowing plunged into the water, boots and all.

Rusty had time to drop her clothes and shriek before they both went under. The water was cool and dark. Rusty kicked away from Clay and swam toward the middle of the lake. When her head broke the surface of the water, she looked around for Clay. He was nowhere to be seen.

A sudden yank on her leg alerted her to his location. She surrendered as he pulled her beneath the surface and wrapped around her. For a few moments they remained locked in each other’s arms, their legs moving in time.

Clay kicked his powerful legs, propelling them to the surface. Rusty pushed away from him and swam toward shore. He caught up with her when she was chest deep in the water and turned her to him.

“Not leaving the party so soon, are you, honey?”

Rusty grinned. “Why, Mr. Russell, who said anything about leaving? I just needed to sink my toes in the mud to do this.”

She put her hands on either side of his face and locked eyes with him. With infinite slowness she moved closer, her body, cool from the water, sliding up against him. Her breasts flattened out on him as her legs moved to circle his waist.

Clay moved his hands beneath her, cupping her ass to pull her more firmly against him. The feel of her hot sex against his belly had him heating up fast. With those violet eyes holding him prisoner and her hot body sliding up and down on his, it was only moments before he was itching to get inside her. He started to reposition her to do just that but she stopped him.

“Not yet,” she said softly and pulled his head down. Her lips caressed his, her teeth nipping at his lower lip before her tongue flicked out to soothe the small ache and slide into his mouth. The kiss was slow, deep and wet and would be the mark of what he would forever judge a kiss against. It lasted a moment, an eternity. He didn’t know which and didn’t care. The whole of his existence was wrapped up in that kiss. His body was on fire. He’d never wanted a woman as bad as he did her in that moment.

When she released him from the kiss, she leaned back to lock eyes with him. It was as if she was seeing inside his soul. He felt exposed, raw, and more in need than he’d ever been.

“Rusty, darlin’,” his voice rumbled, rough with need.

“Mr. Russell,” she said with a hint of a mischievous smile.

Clay had never cared what a woman called him. Stud, darling, honey, baby. It had never mattered. But with Rusty it did. He wanted to hear her whisper his name, say his name, scream his name. “Darlin’, please—no more Mr. Russell.”

She studied his eyes for a long moment. He was starting to think that she wouldn’t speak and then she very softly whispered, “Okay…cowboy.”

His hands tightened on her flesh. “I want you, Rusty. More than I’ve ever wanted a woman. God as my witness, I want you beyond reason.”

She smiled and stroked his face softly. “Enough to surrender?” she asked.

“Surrender?”

“Yes, surrender.”

“To what?”

“This,” she replied and softly chanted, “Quicquid didiceris, frequenter repete, en menti tuæ infige, de multum discas non multa: quia animus humanus non potest omnibus par esse.”

If anyone had ever told Clay that reality could explode, he would have laughed or accused them of doing drugs. But that’s exactly what happened. Reality splintered. There was no earth, no sky, and no cool water lapping against their bodies. All that existed were Rusty’s eyes, big and luminous, dancing with lights that spilled out and danced in a whirling dervish around them, tingling his skin with energy that was electric and completely sexual.

It was as if every inch of his flesh had transformed into an erogenous zone. The stroke of her fingers down his face and neck left a trail of electricity. His nipples burned as her nimble fingers circled and stroked, then moved lower.

Clay couldn’t contain a moan when her hand slipped between them to encircle his erection. She rubbed the head against her wet channel, the warm fluid from her sex lubricating him so that his dick slid easily against her. He felt her sex opening, felt the flutter that started in her belly as she eased the head inside her.

His breath rasped out hard as she pressed down, taking more of him into her tight sex. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders as she worked herself onto him, inch by slow inch, taking the length of him inside her.

She started moving on him, slow and steady, up and down, her sex slick, hot and tight, a gloriously warm soft glove that pulsed on his dick, delivering sensations he’d never experienced.

Rusty leaned close to his ear and whispered her chant again, finishing by taking his earlobe between her teeth and biting gently. After that Clay couldn’t really say what happened. All he knew that was that his existence was wrapped up in that moment, in the orgasm that built slow and steady like a loaded freight train rolling down the track, getting closer with each moment, building and building until there was nothing but release. A climax that was like a wave claimed him, pounding, driving and rolling. Capturing him in the undertow and refusing to release him.

His knees buckled as his seed spilled deep inside her. Rusty clung to him until he was dry and weak. He sank down into the water with her still wrapped around him, his forehead resting against her shoulder.

Rusty cradled him against her. For several minutes they were frozen in place, neither willing to break the union.

“Darlin’, I’ve no idea what just happened, but if that’s what a man gets by surrendering then I damn sure want to surrender again—real soon,” Clay whispered against her skin.

Rusty giggled and unwound herself to sink into the water. “And just how soon is real soon, Mr. Russell?”

“Mr.?” he yelped and dived after her as she laughed and started wading for the shore.

Rusty laughed out loud as he caught her and turned her into him. “Damn woman, what’s it take to get you to call me by my name?”

Rusty smiled and hugged him. “Time, cowboy. Just time.”

Clay’s face split in a smile as he guided her hand down to his erection. “Time’s a wasting, darlin.”

”Nothing with you is a waste…darlin’.”

Clay smiled and scooped her up in his arms to carry her to shore. He placed her down on the soft grass, lying beside her and running his hand down the curve of her body as she stretched like a lazy cat under his touch.

Rusty reached for him, opening her mouth to speak a few words he didn’t understand. He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Not this time. Mind blowing as that was, this time it’s my way.”

“Then have at it, big boy,” she encouraged before sucking his finger into her mouth.

Clay never imagined that an index finger would possess so much feeling. But inside her mouth, his finger literally throbbed with sensation.

“Damn woman, you are a witch.”

Rusty released his finger with a chuckle and started to speak when a stricken look came over her face. She pushed him away, scrambling for her clothes and screaming for Koda.

Clay hurriedly rose. By the time he’d dressed, Rusty was disappearing into the stand of trees at the top of the rise. He ran after her at full tilt, his heart pounding in his chest, not from the exertion but from anxiety at the fear on her face and in her scream.

Even at a dead run it took him a couple of minutes to catch up with Rusty. She didn’t acknowledge his presence directly behind her, but continued to run as fast as her legs would carry her toward the main ranch complex.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach the pasture bordering the west side of the ranch proper. Horses pranced and snorted anxiously in the pasture, pawing the ground and dancing around a dark lump on the ground.

Rusty let loose a howl of pain and grief that struck Clay to the center of his soul as she collapsed on the ground beside the prone body of a painted horse. It took only one glance to see that not only had the horse been shot, but gutted as well.

For several moments she screamed, tears streaming down her face as she stroked the dead animal. Then she bounded to her feet and flew toward the house. Clay followed, unsure what to do except stay close.

Rusty ran into the bunkhouse and emerged a few seconds later with a rifle. She headed for her truck with a murderous gleam in her eyes that had the violet darkening to the color of storm clouds.

Clay raced after her, grabbing her arm as she reached for the door of the truck. “Hold on now!”

“Let go of me!” she snarled and jerked her arm free of his grip. “Those bastards killed my horse!”

“And you’re gonna what? Kill them?” he shouted back at her. “For the love of might, woman, what the hell good will that do but land you in jail?”

“Shut up!” Rusty screamed at him.

“No!” Clay grabbed her as she moved to open the truck door.

She struggled against him, putting up enough of a fight that he had to exert more force than he wanted to subdue her. She screamed and battled until finally his superior strength won out and she collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably.

“They…they…killed…killed my horse,” she bawled brokenly against his chest.

Clay didn’t know what to say so he held her silently, letting her cry. It took a while before the sobs turned to silent heaves and then to sporadic sniffles. When Rusty pushed away to look up at him, her eyes were swollen and red, filled with such grief that his heart nearly broke.

“Ah, darlin’.” He gathered her to him again. “We’ll find the bastards who did this and make them pay.”

“I already know who did it,” she mumbled against his chest.

He pushed her back to arm’s length to regard her seriously. “I know you think it was your in-laws, Sassy, but—”

“Not think. I know,” she interrupted. “This has the stink of Stikeleather all over it. I can’t let them get away with it. I can’t.”

“We won’t,” he said with heavy emphasis on the word “we”. “But we’ve got to do this by the law. Okay?”

She was silent for a long time. Finally she nodded. “Fine. We’ll try it your way, but god as my witness, if the law doesn’t see justice done, then I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

As she spoke, her eyes began to dance with a wild light, like lightning illuminating dark clouds. A breeze picked up, blowing uncommonly strong, and the sky itself darkened with sudden clouds.

The horses in the corral snorted and danced as if in anticipation of a storm. Even Koda, ever close by, let loose with an anxious string of barks and yips.

At the sound of Koda’s barks, Rusty seemed to snap out of whatever force bound her. She turned to look at Koda. “They will pay,” she stated with utter finality.

Koda gave one bark in reply and turned away. Clay watched it all with apprehensive curiosity. “Darlin’, please. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Let the law do its job. If they can’t bring the guilty party to justice, then I promise you, I’ll use the entire weight of my family to find them and make them pay. Just promise me that you won’t…uh, you won’t do anything you won’t be able to undo. Deal?”

Rusty studied his eyes. “You give me your word on that, Mr. Russell?”

“God as my witness,” he promised.

“Then you have a deal,” she said, and added, “But fair warning. Anyone who welshes on a deal with me doesn’t get a second chance.”

With that she turned and walked away. “Where are you going?” Clay called after her.

“To prepare a goodbye for a friend,” she said over her shoulder.

Clay heaved a sigh and started for the bunkhouse to get his cell phone. Time to call the sheriff.