Rebecca Zanetti - Under the Covers

“Sure. We all work the cattle and share the profits—and losses.” He shrugged. “Are you done stalling?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

He chuckled and drew the smaller horse closer. “This is Mertyl, and she’s a sweet mare. Put your foot in the stirrup, and I’ll hoist you up.”

Juliet cleared her throat and tried to ignore her still-humming abdomen. Man, the sheriff could kiss. “I can get up.” She’d seen this done on television.

“Sweetheart, let me help.” Charming was too tame of a word to describe his smile. “Just a quick caveat to the no-touching-rule limited to helping you on and off the horse. I promise.”

Either she could make a fool of herself and fall on her head or let the sheriff assist her. “Fine.”

Quinn grasped her waist and swung her onto the horse. Her butt hit the leather saddle. He instantly released her. Ignoring the heated imprint from his hands, she wiggled into a comfortable position.

“Excellent.” Smooth and graceful, the sheriff hoisted into his own saddle. “You’ve ridden a little, right?”

She considered lying. But he’d probably been riding since birth, and he’d figure out the truth. “No. This is my first time.”

“How is that possible?”

“My folks owned a store in Idaho, and we lived in town. No horses.” This time she did lie and kept her gaze on the mare’s mane. The sheriff needed to quit probing into her past. “Tell me about the naked man you arrested.”

“Just a minor arrest for public nudity and being drunk on moonshine,” Quinn said. “He made bail, and I took him back home.”

Just what she’d thought. “You couldn’t give the guy a break?”

“I had to make sure he had a good meal.” One dark eyebrow rose. “Plus, the guy broke the law.”

No wiggle room with the sheriff and his values. He would never understand why somebody might need to break the law. “You’re a hard man, Sheriff.”

“So I’ve been told, darlin’.” He held the reins and easily controlled the massive beast. “Are you all right on the mare?”

Besides still being horribly aroused and sitting on a wild creature of death, sure, she was fantastic. “I’m fine.”

He nodded, gaze dropping to check the stirrups. “You’re a delicate one, Juliet Montgomery. I want you to go slow and take it easy. If you get scared, we stop.”

A hard man with a sweet side. A very intriguing sweet side. Juliet couldn’t bring trouble down on him. If the truth about her family came out, just being linked with her might hurt him professionally. “I’m not delicate.”

“Yes, you are. But I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.” He flashed an encouraging smile. “You can do this.”

She came from the city where predators wore fancy suits and drove fast cars. In Montana, the strong wore cowboy hats and didn’t care about the rest. Without a question, Quinn Lodge held a natural toughness no city man could match—but he played fair. Those who played fair got hurt. No way would she let him get hurt from knowing her, because her family never played fair. “This isn’t a good idea, Quinn.”

“Sure it is. Just use your hands and legs to steer Mertyl. She’s easy.”

Had he really misunderstood her? Taking a deep breath, Juliet nudged the horse with her knees. The animal trotted forward.

Ack. Juliet grabbed the reins tighter. She bit her lip while her ass hit the leather saddle. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Pain ricocheted up her spine.

She whimpered, her mind rushing to the inevitability of her flying over the horse’s head and landing on her face. Panic shot through her. Yanking up on the reins, she kicked her feet.

The horse shot into a gallop, straight for the solid ranch house.

Juliet screamed, her body flying into the air and slamming back on the saddle.

A low growl echoed behind her before Quinn snapped an order to the horse. The damn animal halted immediately. Juliet lunged forward onto the pommel and dropped back. Safely.

She hissed out a breath. Her butt ached already.

The sheriff jumped off his horse and strode toward her. The sun slanted across his strong face, highlighting his Native features in a way she hadn’t caught before. Such purposeful steps from such a dangerous man made her want to kick the horse again just to get out of his path.

He reached up and grabbed her elbows. Two seconds later, she stood on the unmoving, rocky, very safe ground. Her legs wobbled as she took several deep breaths.

The mare whinnied and wandered toward some tall grass.

Quinn tipped back his hat and grasped the reins of his stallion. “I’ve never seen anybody move exactly the opposite of the horse, before.” Shaking his head, he quickly untied his saddle and tossed it on the ground but left the heavy blanket in place. The black horse snorted and twitched its tail.

She stepped away from the monster. “I told you I couldn’t ride.”

“I know.” Quinn’s hands circled her waist, and he sighed.

“No.” She shook her head and attempted to evade him.

He kept her in place. “Trust me.” With a mere shift of his massive shoulders, he tossed her onto the huge stallion.

Panic heated Juliet’s blood. He’d thrown her on top of a wild stallion. She grabbed the silky mane. “What in the world?”

Planting both hands behind her butt, the sheriff jumped up behind her.

Heat fired down her torso. Desire unfurled inside her with the strength of a tornado. Sparks flew throughout her skin. Instant and unexpected.

He leaned forward, his breath whispering against her ear. “Now relax, darlin’.”

Her nipples hardened to points. God. Fuzziness filled her mind. A need ripped through her veins so demanding she could barely breathe.

The horse huffed.

Strong, large hands settled into the mane in front of her.

On all that was impossible and holy. She bit back a whimper that wanted loose.

“Okay.” His heated breath caressed her ear. His hard chest cradled her back. “Tighten your legs, and you can control the animal.”

She swallowed. “I, uh…” Her voice lowered to a huskiness she barely recognized.

“You’re safe.” His voice slid to guttural.

She tightened her grip. “Okay. What now?”

“Just click your tongue and pull in with your foot,” Quinn murmured.

His heated breath licked around her ear, brushing her face, shooting beneath her skin to warm her. Everywhere. Her eyelids fluttered. Thank God he couldn’t see her face. Mentally smacking herself, she kicked the horse.

The animal snorted.

Quinn leaned into her, his hardness cradling her back. He dug his boot into the horse’s flank, man and beast both rippling with impressive strength.

The horse moved forward.

Flutters that had nothing to do with fear rippled through Juliet’s abdomen. She sucked in air scented with male. Her eyelids became heavy, while her limbs tingled. Her breasts ached. Her sex softened.

“Okay. Now you steer him.” Quinn’s voice was gravel in a cement mixer.

This type of instant desire was unreal. Couldn’t be happening. A long shiver wandered down her entire body. He had to have felt it.

“Juliet.” He groaned.

Naturally, unwillingly, her head dropped back to his chest. “Quinn.”

He stilled and then exhaled. “Juliet, you need to concentrate.”

“Can’t.” Desire reduced her to one syllables, and she didn’t give a damn.

Muscles vibrated against her back. “What do you want, darlin’?”

She groaned low in her throat and shut her eyes. “God.”

“Juliet, either start paying attention to the lesson, or tell me what you want.”

What did she want? Him. Without question, him. It was a mistake, one she’d probably regret, yet one she wanted to make so badly. “I want you.”

He stiffened. The breeze wandered around them with the scents of honeysuckle and pine. “Say the words,” he said.

If she said the words, there would be no going back. She’d definitely have to leave town after the art showing. It was only a matter of time anyway. “Touch me.”

Sharp teeth nipped her ear, spiraling hunger inside her veins. “Ask nicely.”

Her eyes flashed open. His dominant tone trembled through her nerves, sparking around her body until lighting her skin on fire. “Please.”

His hand flattened against her stomach, and he pulled her into heat and male. He chuckled, the sound heavy with need. With a slight shrug that moved her shoulders, he slid his palm up to cup one breast over her shirt. “Finally.”

Electricity zinged from her chest straight to her clit. A roaring filled her ears. “Don’t stop.”

He tweaked her nipple, and she exhaled on a sob. How was it possible to be so in need?

Spring sunshine cascaded down, and they sat on a horse in front of his house. Anybody might come by and see. The summer day was warm, but still, she shivered. She struggled to regain some sense of reality. “We’re outside.”

“I know.” He grasped her shirt and ripped it open, sending buttons flying. Warm hands cupped her bra-covered breasts before he flicked open the front clasp, freeing her. A low groan rumbled from his chest as one rough palm caressed her.

He grasped her chin and tugged her head to the side, exposing her neck. Leaning down, he scraped his teeth along her jugular, kissing and nipping along the way.

He tugged on her nipple.

She arched into his hold, her mind spinning. “Quinn—”

Jeans rustled as he swung his leg and jumped from the horse. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her off, pressing her against the horse’s flank until she wrapped her legs around his hips.

His mouth took hers.

Hot, fast, crazy, he kissed every thought out of her brain while pivoting and striding for the house. His boots clomped up the steps, and at the porch, he released her to slide down his body. The entire time, he kept kissing her.

She grabbed his shirt and broke the kiss so she could yank the material over his head. He helped her, his mouth back on hers the second they succeeded. His lips were firm, determined, and he deepened his assault until all she could do was kiss him back.

Vaguely, she heard the clasp of her jeans release. Cool air brushed her bare butt as he pulled them off along with her boots, socks, and underwear.

They shuffled closer to the door, and she grabbed his jeans.

He released her mouth. “Wait.”

“No.” She shoved his jeans down his legs, taking a quick moment to gasp at the heavy cock straining toward her.

Wow. The sheriff was built.

The jeans caught on his boots. Oh well. She could see what she needed. Slowly standing, she brushed a kiss across his impressive shaft on her way back up.

A low growl rumbled from him.

Both hands clasped her shoulders, and he slid her shirt and bra off. Red spiraled across his rugged cheekbones, and his nostrils flared. “We need to slow down.”

“No.” She stepped right into heat and male. His broad chest showed a warrior’s scars. While she’d heard he had been in the service, she hadn’t known he’d been in battle. Defined and muscular, his chest led down to an impressive six-pack. His erection brushed her stomach, and she had to fight to keep from moaning in need. “Please don’t treat me like I’m some sort of fragile lady. I’m not.”

“You are.”

No, she never had been. No matter how badly she’d disappointed her family. Leaning forward, she licked his nipple.

His sharp intake of breath made her smile.

“Quinn, we do this right. Like you want.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. Tingles zinged around her from the raw hunger on his dark face.

“Like I want?” he asked, his voice guttural as he shoved open the door and propelled them inside.

“Yes,” she breathed out, her heart pounding.

“I need to run upstairs—”

She shook her head. “I’m on the pill—medical reasons.”

His eyes flared hot and bright. He kicked the door shut and backed her into the wall. Both hands plunged into her hair, and he took her mouth again. They inched along the wall, hopefully toward a bedroom. She should probably help him out of his boots and jeans so he didn’t trip. The wall disappeared, and only cool air ran along her back.

She moaned into the kiss, her body on fire. “Now, Quinn. Please, now.” The hunger was so great, she was about to drop him to the floor and take him.

With a growl, he flipped her around, his hand heavy against her lower back. She had a second to appreciate a comfortable-looking dining room complete with hutch. A thick table hit her upper thighs, and she bent over. He shoved papers to the side that cascaded to the floor.