Brianna's Sinful Cowboys [Casanova Cowboys 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 21

  Rylan drew his hand along the rough top of the headstone and returned to his cruiser. He climbed into the cool interior and started the engine, heat pluming out of the vents. His headlights spread out over the cemetery, the only signs of life coming from the trail of footprints left in his stead. No ghosts. No wildlife. Just the residual essence of those who had passed. A place he did not belong anymore.

  Once back on the road, he pulled his cell out of the console and dialed up Colt.

  “Hey, cuz,” Colt greeted, sounding damn groggy.

  “Sound like they’ve got you flyin’ on some pain meds,” Rylan said.

  “Mm. I’m takin’ ’em, so you know the pain’s fuckin’ bad.” Colt groaned. In the background, he heard his uncle asking if he could do anything. “Nah. Take any more of that shit and I’ll be out for a week. So, Ry, tell me what’s goin’ on with that woman and our land.”

  “Nothin’ with the land.”

  “Somethin’ with the woman?”

  Rylan chuckled. “That’s a long story I’ll be more than happy to share with you when you get your ass back to Ryder. And you can tell me all about your woman. Raina, is it?”

  “Things have been up and down over the past ten…days.” Colt paused, and Rylan listened to his cousin struggle to breathe without causing too much pain. “They caught the guy last night, but rumor had it Raina had a flight scheduled after her last ride.”

  “Heard she was careless in that run. Knocked down two barrels.”

  “Don’t care what anyone says. She should’ve pulled out a winner. She botched her run on purpose. She’s been avoidin’ me after the incident a couple nights ago. Wouldn’t listen to a damn word I had to say in my defense.”

  Rylan sighed. He sympathized for Colt. In June, his cousin’s life had been turned upside down. The media had tried to tarnish his reputation, and they did a damn good job of painting an innocent man suspect. Colt had his spurs in the dirt and his shoulders straight the entire time, riding his best rides, proving to the rodeo world he was innocent and nothing was going to get him down.

  Until one woman knocked him down and another clobbered him in the ribs.

  “Colt, she’ll come around. Give her a chance to grieve her brother’s loss now that the real murderer is in custody.”

  “I always listen to you, cuz, but right now, I know you’re speakin’ from experience.” Colt groaned again. The radio in Rylan’s car crackled. Martha’s voice came out of the speaker, but Colt interrupted with, “On that note, I’m gonna sleep some of this god-awful pain away. Pa and Jim have been loadin’ up the horses and gear. We’ll be on the road tomorrow. Get back to work.”

  With a short laugh, Rylan ended the call and dropped the phone back in the cupholder.

  “Would you repeat that, Martha?” Rylan asked.

  “Disturbance at the ranch, Sheriff. Complaints from a couple guests stayin’ in the east cabins. Someone, or someones, are throwin’ snowballs. Colette called it in. Carter and Landon are on their way over now.”

  “Headin’ over.” He cut the connection and muttered, “Damn smartasses.”

  Ten minutes on slick roadways as the falling snow steadily increased, Rylan killed his lights and coasted down the drive leading to the east cabins. The dense tree line hid his approach. He noted every little detail of the obscured area, trying to detect any unnatural movement in the darkness.

  He cut the engine a few yards back from where the trees thinned and the road forked off to each individual cabin. He called in to Martha, announcing his arrival, and climbed out of the cruiser. Closing the door quietly behind him, he pulled out his flashlight, silenced his shoulder radio, and, flicking open the belt over his gun, took in his surroundings as he started down toward the cabins.

  He waited until he drew closer to the first cabin before turning on the flashlight. The high-powered beam cut across the snow, showing an untouched path ahead of him and a dark cabin. He cut back and turned off his flashlight, distracted by the reflection off the falling snow. He had enough light from the glowing white coat on the ground to see while keeping his presence silent.

  The lights in the second cabin were on, and through the curtain of snow, he observed guests moving about. Using the trees as a cover, he approached the cabin, his senses on high alert.

  He saw the shift in the shadows first, creeping closer to the side of the structure. An unnatural form against the fluid fall of snow. Rylan wrapped his fingers around his gun, leaving it tucked in the holster, and hurried up behind the culprit.

  The nuisance hitched his arm back, preparing to pitch the wad of snow in his gloved hand. Rylan snatched his wrist, spun him around, and blinded the kid with his flashlight.

  “David? What the hell are you doin’ out here?” Rylan groaned, skating the beam down one stretch of property, then the other. “Who’re you here with? Those two Colie brothers?”

  “Sheriff, I–I wasn’t doin’ nothin’!” the teenager whimpered, shrinking into his thick parka. Rylan snorted, switching the light off and tucking it under his arm. He scooped the snow out of the kid’s hand.

  “This ain’t nothin’? Boy, your pa is gonna give you a beatin’ when I drag your sorry ass home and tell him where I found you and what you were doin’.” Rylan flicked the snow at the kid’s head. With a firm grip on the kid’s coat, he dragged him toward the cabin and up to the front door. “You’ll be apologizin’ to these poor folks. You know I don’t take disrespectin’ of others lightly, David.”

  “Sheriff,” David whined. “I’m sorry. I’ll go home and—”

  Rylan clenched his teeth and knocked on the door. “Sheriff.”

  He burned a cold look into the kid, watching him shrink like a snail into a shell. David fidgeted beneath his glower, his flushed face turning a deep shade of reddish-purple.

  A man opened the door, his wide eyes moving from Rylan to the kid in his custody.

  “You call in a complaint of some pests snowballin’ the cabin, sir?” Rylan asked, keeping the edge of frustration out of his authoritative voice. The man pushed his glasses up his nose and rubbed a hand over his blond hair.

  “Yeah,” the man said.

  Rylan yanked David up to the man. “I believe he would like to apologize for disruptin’ your night.”

  “I’m sorry, mister,” the kid said. “It won’t happen again. I swear it.”

  “It better not, kid. You gave my girls a fright.” The man looked back at Rylan. “Thanks, Sheriff. Really appreciate you coming out here in this weather. I’m sure there are other things more important you could be doing.”

  “My apologies for your disruption. I’ll be takin’ him home now and you shouldn’t be bothered again. Have a good evenin’.”

  Rylan tipped his hat and led David away from the cabin. Only when he heard the door close at his back did he pull up short and force the kid to look at him.

  “Those brothers here with you?”

  “No, Sheriff.”

  “David Willburg, I’m givin’ you a chance to be honest with me. You’ve already earned yourself a strike in my book.”

  “No, Sheriff. I was walkin’ along Height when someone pulled up and offered me some money to cause a little mischief down here. I didn’t have time to get the Colies. Came straight here.”

  Rylan’s gaze narrowed. He stared at the kid through the obstructing snow. His gut twisted. “Money? How much money?”

  David pulled off his glove with his teeth and dug out a crumpled bill from his pocket. Rylan relinquished his hold on the kid and straightened the bill.

  “Fifty bucks to cause mischief.”

  “Mr. Rylan, I swear I ain’t a bad kid. I wanted to get my momma this purse she’s been likin’ for Christmas, and I ain’t got the money and thought that I could get her that present now. That’s the only reason why I did it.”

  Rylan shook the bill. “Who gave this to you? What did the person look like?”

  “I don’t know. He was in this truck, so I couldn’t see
much of ’im. He was wearin’ a hat and kept it real low.”

  Rylan suppressed the desire to bolt up to his truck and put every officer of his on a hunt for that fucking prick Sean. His gut was telling him that was who David bumped into. His mind rolled, trying to piece together the man’s plan without knowing what his exact intentions were.

  He handed the bill back to David. “I should take it because it’s bad money, but I’d better see a new purse hangin’ from your momma’s arm at church Christmas mornin’, hear me?”

  “Oh yes, sir. You will sir.”

  “If I ever catch you causin’ a ruckus again, paid or not, I’ll be haulin’ your ass in and you can explain to your pa what landed you in my cell. Understood?”

  “Y–Yes, sir. It ain’t gonna happen again. Swear it.”

  “Let me get you home.”

  As they reached the top of the path, Landon was jogging down toward them, holding his light pointed to the ground.

  “Hey, Ry. Beat me,” he said, slowing his approach. He ran the flashlight over David and tsked. “Oh boy. You’re gonna be in some deep horse crap.”

  “Hey, Landon. Would you mind bringin’ David here home? There’s somethin’ I need to see to,” Rylan said. Landon flashed him a smile and nodded, drawing the light across the snow in the direction of the pickup parked a few feet behind Rylan’s cruiser. Rylan watched the two trudge through the snowy landscape until they were past his truck before he called back into the department.

  “Shouldn’t be any more problems tonight. Give Colette a call for me. I’ve gotta check up on somethin’,” Rylan said over his mic. Martha snickered.

  “Sure you do, Sheriff. Bring back some coffee on your way in.”

  “’Course.”

  He cast one last spread of light over the property, pausing at the nuances caused by the shifting landscape behind the snow’s curtain. Landon had already turned his truck around and was headed to the main road when Rylan reached his cruiser.

  The prickly feeling of being watched crept down his back. He cast his light at the trees behind him, finding nothing. He did a quick search of his vehicle from the outside, counting his shotgun and his rifle in their places, his computer untouched, and no one hunkered down on the floors.

  Rylan came back around to the driver’s side. Crack. He stiffened and spun around, bringing his light beam level to his body. His fingers wrapped around his gun. One cautious step at a time, he drew closer to the tree line, brushing the light up and down, back and forth.

  “Come out of there,” Rylan demanded, ignoring the sudden rush of his heart. He maintained a careful approach, catching every tiny motion around the trees.

  He dropped the beam to the ground and narrowed his gaze on the markings in the snow. Footprints?

  “Shit.”

  Rylan yanked at his gun. It never came free of the holster before something cracked down against the back of his head. He swayed, dropping the flashlight, reaching out for support. His knees buckled. A hand grabbed the back of his neck and shoved the side of his face into the rough trunk of a tree. Each blink stole more of his vision. Pain spread, dull and achy at first, until it became all-consuming, dragging him down into swirling blackness as his body sank into the icy snow.

  The last thing he heard was a malicious, “Already out, and so are you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Brianna laughed, tilting her head to expose her neck to Jackson’s hungry kisses. She stirred the mixture of vegetables in the sauté pan, the sizzling of oil and water nothing compared to the sizzling of her blood at the moment.

  “Hope he likes my Brianna surprise for dinner,” Brianna said, laying the wooden spoon on a napkin beside the stove. Jackson spun her around and backed her into the counter, holding her face between his hands and plundering her with a ramped-up kiss.

  “I’ll tell you what I’d like right now,” Jackson murmured against her mouth. He rubbed his cock along her belly. “A tease ’cause it’s so much better with Rylan.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  Jackson lifted his head and smirked down at her. “You kinky little lady. I want to watch him take you again. Can’t tell you how much that turned me on last night, seeing how he unraveled you.”

  “And I’m kinky?” Brianna joked. She reached over for the spoon and gave her food another stir. “I love this kind of kink.”

  Jackson dropped onto his knees, wrapping his fingers around the waistband of her fancy pink sweatpants. With a sharp tug, he had them around her knees and just as quickly pressed her thighs apart.

  “Jax!”

  “Wet pussy, baby. You know what that means? She needs a little pleasure.”

  The breath fled her lungs on a rush when Jackson’s mouth latched around her clit and suckled her nub from slumber to sheer electric arousal. Brianna braced her elbows against the countertop and rolled her hips out, giving Jackson as much of her pussy as he wanted to take.

  “Jackson, easy, please.”

  He didn’t listen, tracing the entrance to her body. Her orgasm came at her at breakneck speed.

  “Oh my god, I can’t…”

  He thrust two fingers deep into her pussy. She shattered. Her nerves exploded. The pleasure hit her with such intensity she couldn’t see. Her legs trembled with her weight, and she slid down, forcing Jackson’s mouth away from her pulsing clit. Tremors racked her body. She clung to Jackson, catching her breath, riding the residual waves of her fierce climax as his fingers played against the wet sheath of her body.

  “I want this now, baby. You’ve no idea. But I ain’t takin’ it until Rylan’s with us.”

  A loud pop startled Brianna from the post-euphoric haze. Jackson chuckled, drawing his fingers from her body and climbing to his feet. He washed his hands off, helped Brianna back to her feet, and went to stir the burning food in the pan. She struggled against the subtle waves of weakness that continued to roll along her muscles, hiking up her pants and washing off her hands.

  “Bad Jackson. Terrible, terrible Jackson,” Brianna scolded, drying her hands on a rag. She twisted it up and released it against Jackson’s ass. He jerked, but the smile that came over his mouth, and the protruding bulge of his cock against his jeans, were dead giveaways that he enjoyed the playful whip.

  “Keep you guessin’ all the time when I’ll do somethin’ crazy.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “Well”—Jackson tapped the spoon on the side of the pan and turned off the stove—“think we’re done here. Why don’t you pack it up while I go out and start the truck?”

  Jackson pinched her chin and gave her one soul-snatching kiss. He slapped her ass as he walked by. Brianna shrieked.

  “I’ll get you back every time, honey. Remember that.” He jingled his keys. “Oh, Gregory called me earlier this afternoon tryin’ to figure out why you backed out of the deal.”

  “I told him I wasn’t goin’ to pursue it because I didn’t feel right about it. There’s nothin’ more he needs to know.” Brianna shrugged, peeling the lid off the container Jackson had provided for the meal. “Besides”—she flashed him a smile—“I rather like bein’ on Rylan’s good side.”

  Jackson laughed and disappeared down the entryway. Brianna spooned the steaming mixture of chicken and vegetables into the container, soaked the pan in soapy water, and hurried upstairs to change.

  She paused outside of Rylan’s bedroom. A soft moan rolled off her tongue, the potent memories of what transpired here last night attacking her in every visceral department. Both Jackson and Rylan proved to her that she lacked the full spectrum of knowledge when it came to pleasure in the bed. Not that I had all that much experience before Jackson anyhow.

  A small smile twitched against the corner of her mouth as she looked at the bed. Rylan confessed he had changed out the furniture after Hailey’s death, and gone bachelor style. Although he had exquisite taste in the woodwork, he hid most of the lush dark wood behind black and white sheets and a black comforter. There was a star
k contrast, hot and cold, that lent an edge to the room that could easily turn her arousal into overdrive and wreak havoc with her senses.

  “Get dressed, girl,” Brianna urged. Shaking free of the taunting trance, she moved down to the guest room where Rylan suggested she keep her clothes. “Sure you’d like some privacy at some point.”

  That was for the best. With her future in Ryder still undecided, she wanted to keep a small distance between her and Rylan. She shuffled through her clothes, recalling the conversation Jackson and she had after Rylan had left for work.

  “I’ve been thinkin’, Bree, and I’m deeply considerin’ movin’ back home. Here. To Ryder. And I want you to come with me. I may not be able to give you the five-star restaurants or the fancy bars of Nashville, but we’ve got Brody nearby if we want good music. We’ve got great malls and stores in the neighborin’ towns and cities. I can protect you better here, and with Rylan divin’ down for a crash landin’ over you, there ain’t a soul in this world who would dare cross him if they knew what was good for them. My parents love you—”

  “Honey, they’ve met me once, for a half hour.”

  “They’re great judges of character.” Jackson traced her brow, the tenderness in his touch, the sincerity in his expression, honing in on its target with impeccable accuracy. “All I ask is that you consider it. I have a feelin’ we’ll be dealin’ with another’s heart if we leave.”

  Brianna narrowed her eyes. The picture of the engagement ring sitting by the angel came to mind. “Rylan would never fall for a woman so soon after meetin’ them. Not with his heart still mendin’.”

  “There’s a difference between a person holdin’ onto a memory and a person unwillin’ to let it go. I wouldn’t be so sure his heart hadn’t mended, Brianna. Trust me. Just”—he brushed her hair from her cheek—“trust me.”