Read Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 Online

Authors: Em Petrova

Tags: #cowboy;western;military romance;cowboy romance;western romance;Dalton Boys;spanking;kink;bdsm;veteran

Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (15 page)

She jerked free. “Why don’t you go back in and finish deciding what to do with our town?”

“Darlin’, wait.”

She continued away from the barn, skirting a farm implement parked alongside a shed.

“Danica.” He seized her around the middle and lifted her off her feet. She churned her legs in midair, but he refused to release her. Her spine met a hard wall, and he crowded her from the front, pinning her. No escape.

Her traitorous body reacted to his nearness, and even though his fly was wet, she wanted what was beneath it with everything in her being.

He dropped his forehead to hers, holding her prisoner and installing a choking lump in her throat. Dammit, she loved him even when he was being a chauvinistic ass.

“I’m sorry, Danica. I shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

“Like a cheap waitress?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you?” She wanted to curl around his body, to embrace him with arms and legs both, but she resisted.

“I was trying to get you out of the barn.”

“I know. Why?” Her demand was gritty with anger and frustration. Suddenly she was Matt’s little sister, unable to join the game but sent off on some silly errand. When she’d return from the house with whatever she’d been sent to fetch, she’d often find the boys gone.

A quivering breath left Brodie. “I didn’t like the guys looking at you. Or you flirting with them.”

“Flirt—” The word choked off as shock hit her system. Then defiance. “I wasn’t flirting!”

“I know that up here.” He tapped his temple with a long fingertip. “But here—” he clenched a fist and lightly rapped his heart, sending a pang of absolute love through her, “—I couldn’t think straight.”

A noise escaped her, and then he was kissing her, swallowing further noises that weren’t remotely protests now. She threw her arms around his neck and jerked him down. With each violent pass of his tongue over hers, she felt his need mounting.

Half-lifting her, he ground his hips against hers. She didn’t even care that he was getting her wet. She wanted him.

“Jesus, I need you.” He stared into her eyes for a brief heartbeat before picking her up and carrying her away from the shed and the distant voices of the guys in the barn. Shapes rose in the darkness, and she lost her bearings until his boots hit the steps leading into his house.

“Brodie. We can’t go in there.”

“Can and will. I’m having you in a bed this time, Danica, so I have something to tie you to.”

Hot need seeped between her thighs at his dark words. His house was thankfully quiet—his parents in bed. Good thing because a big ex-Marine carrying a tall woman made a lot of noise.

Bumping his door with a shoulder sent it swinging open. In three strides he pressed her onto his bed. She was shaken by what being in his bed meant for their relationship, but she was distracted by his chiseled back as he closed the door.

When he turned to her, lust speared her along with a frisson of trepidation. Even in the dim light falling through the windows, his expression was stony.

“Strip, Danica.”

Heart rolling over, she stared up at him. With quick, economical movements that once again reminded her of him in combat, he removed his shirt.

“I said strip.”

She shuddered as goose bumps broke over her too-hot flesh. “You’re the one who’s wet.”

“I know. And you’re getting naked because I’m telling you to.”

He reached for his belt. She pinched the hem of her top and tugged it up and over her head. He bent to remove his boots. Hers dropped over the side of the bed. When each piece of clothing was peeled away and they both were cloaked only in moonlight, she dragged in a full breath.

Brodie crawled up the bed toward her, big muscles rolling, his cock distended and the head shiny with need. It wasn’t until he gripped her wrist and looped something around it that she realized he had a length of rope.

The hemp prickled her skin, but it made her feel more alive than she had in a long time. With a tug, one wrist was knotted to his headboard.

“Put your other up here, Danica.”

“But how am I going to touch you?”

“You aren’t. Put your hand up here.”

She folded her fingers but didn’t move.

He hovered over her, hot and hard as hell. She wanted him sinking into her until she forgot her own name. But it was clear he wasn’t going to give her that until she did his bidding. Slowly, she raised her hand and let him bind her to the headboard.

Let the games begin.

Brodie stood back. His gaze licked over every exquisite inch of his lover’s body. Her skin gleamed in the moonlight trickling through his window. With her arms bound over her head, she arched her back in such a way that her breasts were thrust forward. He followed the path down to her abs and the little hoop in her navel.

His palms itched to touch her all over.

“Spread your legs for me.” His voice sounded as though he’d been gulping smoke from the aftermath of an explosion.

Her lashes fluttered down to kiss her cheeks as she let her thighs fall apart. The glistening folds revealed to him dragged a rough groan from him.

He wasn’t ready to get inside her. Not yet. He couldn’t last if he did.

In a blink he’d made up his mind. He grabbed his jeans off the floor. When he pulled his belt through the loops, it made a whirring sound. Her eyes popped open and her breaths came faster.

“What are you doing with that belt?” she asked raggedly.

He didn’t respond, only folded the leather in half and wrapped it in his fist. She tensed as he neared, and he leaned over her to gently kiss her plump mouth. She turned into the caress with a coo, and he knew he had her trust.

Withdrawing, he rested the belt on her navel. Her stomach dipped. Lightly he skimmed her flesh with the leather, up between her breasts. Circling the right then the left, avoiding the nipples where she needed his touch most.

“Brodie…”

“Shhhh.” He ran the leather up to her collarbone, across her neck, and down her breasts. Across, zigzagging to her navel. Then lower.

She sucked in sharply as he crested her mound. Her thighs fell apart.

“Good little wench. I don’t even need to tell you to spread your legs for me.” His cock ached, but he held back, mesmerized by what he was doing to her. As he eased the leather over her swollen clit to her soaking seam, she bucked.

Quickly he passed over her swollen flesh to trail the belt down her inner thigh, her knee, calf, and finally her bare toes. “Darlin’, what we’re doing here, you just need to tell me no or stop and I will. I want you under my command, but the choice is always yours. Say the word and it ends.”

“I want this, Brodie.” She sounded strangled. Something warm and bright burst in his chest. He couldn’t begin to analyze why he needed her relying on him for her pleasure, but it was fucking hot as hell.

His cock bobbed against his abs as he started back up her body. When he reached her pussy, he gave it several light brushes with the leather. She quivered with tension and lifted her hips to meet his touch.

The leather became an extension of him. With teasing lightness, he moved back up her torso to the point of one nipple then the other. Each beaded into hard, suckable points. Biting off a groan, he watched her face shiver with delight.

Drawing the belt up her throat, he said, “Arch your neck.”

She tipped her head back, holding his gaze as he brushed her lips with the leather. She gasped, pupils dilating.

“Lick it. Lick it as you would my cock,” he grated out.

The instant her tongue lapped the leather, he nearly blew. Balls clenched, his cock throbbing in time to his rapid heartbeat. Precome formed on the tip and ran down the side of his head.

She swirled her tongue, holding his gaze. With each rotation of her tongue he could see her getting more and more excited. So was he and that couldn’t happen. Not yet.

He lifted the belt from her lips. Without warning he gave her nipple a light tap. The tip strained harder and a shudder racked her. Closely watching her face, driven by instinct, he delivered the same stinging caress to the other nipple.

“Brodie, please. I need…” Her chest worked.

He hung over her, gazing into her eyes. “You need what, love?”

Her throat worked. “I need to touch you.”

“Oh you will. But not yet. First you’re going to give yourself up to me and come.”

“Yessss.”

He tapped her nipples, right, left. Then brought the leather across her clit. She cried out.

“Can you come this way?”

“Maybe. I’m so worked up.”

He unfolded the belt and grasped each end. Gently he rested the narrow strip over her pussy. Gripping one end, he tugged, drawing the leather up and over her clit. A ragged moan escaped her, and the headboard rattled as she pulled against her bonds.

When he reached the end of the belt, he twitched it the other direction. As the leather kissed her slick folds, she quaked.

“You’re close.” It wasn’t a question—he knew.

“Uhhh.”

The belt made another trip over her pussy. She jerked, and he knew the heavens were about to rain down on his angel. Tossing the belt away, he covered her pussy with his palm, fingers poised to enter her heat.

“You come when I say you can. Your orgasms—and you—belong to me.”

Their gazes clashed. In that minute he knew she’d been his since the minute he walked back onto the Pope Ranch.

“Say you’re mine,” he rasped.

“Yes, Brodie. All yours.”

Holding her stare, he plunged two fingers deep in her soaking channel. Her inner walls squeezed him. Five juicy thrusts and she was raising her hips to meet his hand.

“Not yet, love. You’re going to come when I say you can.”

A whimper slipped from her. “Please, Brodie.”

He withdrew his fingers and spanked her pussy. One hard tap that ripped a muffled cry from her throat—a noise he recognized as total pleasure. He delivered several sound spanks. When she was writhing and soaking wet, he delved his fingers into her pussy again.

A choked noise left her. With a wild jerk of her hips, she came around his fingers. Each contraction rocketed up his arm and settled somewhere around his heart. He watched her face, memorizing the shudders of pleasure that enhanced her beauty.

As she gave a final stuttering breath, he hovered over her, eager to kiss her sweet lips. “I let you have that orgasm, darlin’. The next one’s for me.”

* * * * *

Danica was unbound, on her hands and knees with the strip of leather between her teeth. Her skin prickled as Brodie circled the bed and positioned himself behind her.

The sight of his thick cock had been tormenting her as much as his demands. Now she was finally going to have him where she wanted him—buried deep.

As his warm, steely body was fitted against hers from behind, he reached around and ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. “If you drop the leather I’ll use it on you. Now be a good girl and stay quiet.”

In the back of her mind she’d realized where they were—in Brodie’s house with his parents sleeping at the opposite end. They probably couldn’t hear through the thick farmhouse walls, but still… She’d done her best to muffle her noises, yet warmth settled over her cheeks to think she might not have succeeded. Which was why Brodie was ensuring her silence now.

She nodded.

“Good girl.”

He groaned as he grasped her hips…and slid home.

Fighting to keep her lips clasped on the belt, she pushed back to take him to the root. Her tissues were still sensitive from her release. Having him stretch her was making her lose her damn mind.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered hotly against her ear as he withdrew to the tip and then plunged in—hard. The leather slipped when she gasped. Having him dominate her in the bedroom wasn’t something she’d ever imagined in her life. Now that she’d had a taste, she’d never be able to return to boring vanilla sex that didn’t have this depth of feeling. Having her mind and pleasure in Brodie’s control heightened her every sensation and emotion.

He twitched his hips, fucking her with a shallow thoroughness that stole her breath, alternating that with a violent pounding that ripped a noise from her. The belt slipped and hit the bed.

“Naughty wench. You’ll feel that on your backside later.” He covered her mouth with his hand, tilting her head back, and fucked her with wild abandon.

A burning need controlled her. His words replayed in her mind—this orgasm was his, and she was going to give him a good one. Her pussy clamped around his length as he filled her over and over.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His rumble vibrated against her throat. She ran her tongue over his fingers covering her mouth.

He bucked harder. His liquid heat flooded her, sending her overboard. Waves of pleasure slammed her system. She gave him five pulsations…six. And then hung in his hold, limp and humming with satisfaction.

Chapter Ten

“Los Vista is right in the bull’s-eye and looks like it will be flattened by this supercell sweeping the southwest. The town’s three thousand inhabitants need to brace themselves and get underground.”

The news bulletin that had broadcast months ago made Brodie cringe. But Danica fizzed with excitement beside him, holding out her cell for him to see. When she’d burst into the barn looking like a kid who’d won the biggest stuffed prize at the fair, he’d been swept away by her fierce expression of joy.

A reporter came on, smiling into the camera in some city far away from Los Vista. “This storm did indeed wipe out the small town of Los Vista, Texas. Damage was devastating. Entire herds of cattle wiped out in an area where the beef industry is king. Houses, businesses, the school…all gone.”

A panoramic view of their flattened town was harder to see. When Brodie had arrived, some of the debris had been already cleared away. Seeing the rubble only tightened his chest further.

Sensing his tension, Danica leaned into his side. “It’s okay. Keep watching.”

“Most of the survivors were forced to move to neighboring towns and try to piece their lives back together. But a few remain. And over the weekend, we got a peek at how gritty these people are…” she grinned into the camera with pearly whites that must have cost as much as a Ferrari, “…and just how determined they are to get their town back.”

Brodie blinked, and it wasn’t because he was dazzled by a white smile. “What—” he started, but Danica shushed him. He returned his attention to the small screen and listened with wonder as the reporter recounted everything that was discussed at their town meeting.

“That young girl at the meeting is a reporter?” he asked, meeting Danica’s bright, excited eyes.

“Yes! Listen!”

The camera flashed to a mail cart. He shook his head. “Wait. Are you telling me that the media has spread our story and people are actually sending donations to help rebuild?”

She bounced up and down like a five-year-old. “It’s exactly what’s happening! Brodie, there’s money. We can have our town back!”

He caught her as she threw herself against his chest. His throat burned with emotion, and not only at the world’s goodhearted willingness to help people they didn’t know—but because until this minute he hadn’t realized how badly Danica needed this too.

As much as he did—maybe more. He squeezed her and lifted her off her feet. She squealed when her hat tumbled off. He stared at her happy face and couldn’t resist—he kissed her soundly.

Before he could deepen the kiss, she bounced out of his arms and started talking with her hands. “What should we do with the money? I know the town needs to decide, so we’ll have another meeting, but we should—”

“Danica, we have no idea what sort of funds we’re talking about. It could be a few dollars. Not enough to do much good.”

“Anything helps! And we have some money from hay coming, right? We can dump that back into the pot.”

Now this idea he’d given some thought to. They wouldn’t have much, but there was one thing their money could do.

“You know the old war memorial in the park?”

She stilled. The air between them hung heavy after his words. Slowly, she nodded.

“I was thinking we could get everyone together and get the park back into shape. The old memorial stone is still there—it just needs leveled up. But our hay money could pay for another stone.”

Tears leaped into her eyes. She gave a great sniff and plastered her hand over her mouth. For a painful heartbeat he feared he’d made the wrong choice. Then she nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Brodie. Yes, that would be perfect. For everyone.” She threw her arms around his neck and he held her tight, stroking her spine. Yes, for everyone. The Popes would surely benefit from having a special monument to their son.

He kissed Danica’s forehead and cradled her face between his hands. “That’s what we’ll do. Now let’s get our cattle fed so we can go into town and share the news.”

He looked at her sidelong as she placed her fallen hat back over her dark, shining hair. She looked okay after their kinky sex last night, but was she mentally all right? He’d done things to her that had never come to mind before. Driven by gut instinct to claim her in all ways, he was thoroughly pleased. But was she?

They did barn chores. She went off to feed chickens and cats while he hauled water to one of the pens. Then they met up to saddle their horses and ride out to check the herd.

When he glanced at her proud, straight spine, he saw his Danica. Cowgirl through and through. A woman holding up under the weight of Matt’s loss and her parents’ grief.

As she rolled in her saddle, realization zapped his heart.

Fuck, he was in love with her.

* * * * *

Danica was nervous as hell about presenting the idea of Matt’s memorial to her parents. But she gripped the brochure showcasing a sample photo, drew a deep breath, and walked into the kitchen.

Brodie followed with as much solemnity as he would have following a casket. Danica’s heart throbbed in her throat as her parents looked up from the portions of the newspaper they’d split.

“Hey, kiddo. Brodie. Have some coffee.” Her father nodded at the empty seats at the table.

Brodie went to the coffeemaker and pulled two mugs from the nearby cupboard. As he poured, Danica settled at the table with her parents.

“That news story is in the Houston paper,” her pa said.

She arched a brow. “How did you get a Houston paper?”

“Mail’s still gotta come. It’s changed hands a few times, but it’s plenty readable.” As if to demonstrate, her father shook the pages he was holding. When he looked at Danica’s face, brackets formed around his mouth.

“Everything all right?”

Her mother’s hawk gaze lit on her. Suddenly Brodie set a steaming mug before her, and she was thankful for the distraction. She picked up the mug and sipped the dark brew. In the past few months Brodie had figured out she liked her coffee black. He knew she preferred a certain saddle and how many times it took her to rope an animal.

He also knew just how to make her scream with bliss.

And how far he can push me with his demands.

Beneath her top, her nipples hardened. When he took a seat next to her, she instinctively moved closer to his heat. The action wasn’t lost on her parents. Her mother sat up straighter and her pa looked between them.

“You’re pregnant,” her mother blurted.

Danica blinked. Brodie jerked, and his chair legs scraped the floor. “What? Mom, no. Why would you think that?”

“I can see something is going on between you two. And you’re coming to talk to us about something that has lines of worry around your eyes,” her mother said.

Shooting a glance at Brodie’s face, Danica fought to find words. She didn’t have to—Brodie took over.

“It’s true Danica and I have been more to each other in the past few weeks, Mrs. Pope.” His gaze darted to her pa, but gone were the days when a man needed to ask a father’s permission before courting his daughter.

Her father laid the newspaper on the table and filled his empty hands with his mug. “I knew it by looking at you, girl.”

Her heart surged and tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Not only because she was happy that neither parent was protesting Brodie being important to her—but because her father had seen anything but pain and blackness. “You did?”

“Yes, I see you coming in happy and when you look at him…well, it’s clear how you feel.”

Oh no. She hadn’t declared her love to Brodie yet.
Please don’t let my father do it first.

Hurriedly, she said, “Brodie and I didn’t want to talk to you about our relationship today. We came to talk about Matt.”

The air was sucked from the room. Even Old Crow seemed to wheeze out a breath and fail to take another.

Once more Brodie came to her rescue. Taking the brochure from her hand, he opened it and spread it in the center of the table. “We’ve got some extra haying money, and we’d like to start this town off right with a new war memorial.” With a long, callused finger, he tapped the monument they’d planned to engrave with Sergeant Matthew Pope’s name.

Her parents looked at each other and her mom burst into tears. Danica jumped up to circle the table and put her arms around her. “Shh, Mom. I’m sorry to have upset you. I shouldn’t have brought it up. We should have waited.” The sound of her mother crying wrenched her gut and her own tears began to fall.

Brodie got up too and placed a comforting hand on her spine. “Danica’s right. I apologize.”

“Nooo,” her mother wailed. She lowered her hands to reveal her tear-ravaged face. “These are tears of grief but also of happiness.” Her words hiccupped out.

Danica leaned to stare into her mother’s eyes, shocked to find a light there instead of just pain or hopelessness. “You…you’re happy about this?”

“Yes. It’s right to show Matt the respect he deserves. And somehow…this is exactly what I needed today.”

Danica reached across the table to take her father’s hand. “You feel the same, Pa?”

His jaw worked as he obviously fought his emotion. “Yes, girl. You’ve done right by Matt and made us proud.” He looked between her and Brodie. “Thank you both for this. For working the ranch and trying to breathe for us while our heads have been underwater.”

A noise broke from Danica and she squeezed her mom before walking into her daddy’s arms. The road ahead of them was a long one, and this was a tiny reprieve from their pain, but she couldn’t help but feel they’d made a breakthrough today. Slowly she would get her parents back, and they’d all move forward with their lives.

Maybe someday soon they’d see her married.

When she saw Brodie’s shining eyes, she pulled free of her father’s embrace and went to him. He held her for a long heartbeat. Did he know she was in love with him? When was the right time to tell him? She feared confessing her feelings would stress him.

She sat down again and her momma got up to bring a pan of blueberry streusel to the table. As she passed slices to all and refilled coffee mugs, they discussed their plans to make the park beautiful and erect the war memorial there. That talk turned to the outpouring of support from neighboring towns and all over the country. People really wanted to help Los Vista residents, and the money was much appreciated.

While they talked, Danica kept stealing glances at her lover. He was looking better lately. Good food and sleep worked wonders on the male species. She couldn’t be more relieved to know he was less stressed. The way he spoke and moved ignited her even as she was awestruck by his ideas and understanding of what the town required. What the people needed.

And what I need.
He fulfilled her in countless ways. Best friend, amazing lover, business partner. Family. She had to tell him all that was in her heart, and she wasn’t going to wait much longer. He deserved to know.

Deep down she held a candle of hope that he’d return the words.

* * * * *

“Things are really coming along here, boys.” Mrs. Kent looked around the town. The baby in her arms squirmed, and she adjusted her on her hip.

Brodie couldn’t stop his smile from spreading. Since coming home, his friends had cleared a lot of lots. It was amazing how much a team of three was able to achieve. And Team Danica/Brodie was killing it on the ranch. They had three pregnant cows, and in a few weeks they’d know if there were more.

Besides a cleaner-looking town, the Kent children had a new playground
and
a park to play games in. The war memorial had been set in place a few days before, and the American flag flew high. Flowers were strewn before it, and he knew the Popes were responsible for many of them. Matt’s father had given a touching speech about the sacrifices of a family that had nearly brought Brodie to tears.

But he’d pursed his lips and saluted through his choking need to bawl like a baby. Now when he glanced at the memorial, he felt a new inner peace.

Wydell tipped his hat at Mrs. Kent. “Glad to see a good place for your kids to play and grow up. Now if we can talk about getting your husband that church—”

She held up a hand to stop him. Pastor Kent emerged from one of the tents. “What’s this I hear about a church? I thought we’d talked about this at the last town meeting. There are plenty of people who need more help than we do.” He gathered his wife under his arm, and she leaned against him. “We’re doing just fine, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Yes, we have all we need. What I’d like to see is a place for the Handlers. They could use better living arrangements. I fear that old house they’re living in is going to cave in on their heads.”

“We’re going to check that out today actually,” Wydell said. “The bank gave us a statement and there’s enough to fix their foundation or maybe even provide them with a new trailer to live in.”

Brodie watched his friend take control. That old saying that you didn’t really know a person until you’d spent time in a foxhole with him didn’t apply here. Brodie didn’t know all of Wydell’s sides until they’d returned to find their town crushed.

They were elevating it from the ashes, and Wydell’s spirit was infectious.

“Oh yes, please let us know the state of the Handlers’ home. Then at the next town meeting we can all vote to have the funds given to them.” The baby tugged Mrs. Kent’s blonde hair.

“Done here,” Garrett said as he tossed his shovel into the back of a truck they’d managed to find abandoned and get running. The old Ford was knocking, and it was only a matter of time before all of them were out of a set of wheels.

When asked where they’d found the key to start it, Garrett had given Brodie an evil smile and declared he was good at filing a shank of metal to fit. The Marines had made them resourceful. That and growing up country boys.

“I got the beer chillin’,” Boyd called through his cupped hands. They all laughed.

“Go and have your fun,” Pastor Kent said.

“Sure you don’t want to join us?”

He grinned. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that next time. But not tonight.”

Garrett fired up the truck with Boyd in shotgun. He squealed tires on the dead main street and whipped the vehicle around to a halt ten feet from Wydell and Brodie. With a whoop, Wydell ran to the truck and launched himself into the bed.

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