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What was it she'd said? There's a different kind of male power, Quinn. One that you've always known is waiting for you, waiting to serve a woman if she knows where to look for that treasure.
It would have to be on her terms. Could he accept that?
Maybe.
Maybe that was why he'd had the dream. A message that she was unlocking a side to him he'd never acknowledged but sensed, particularly in his growing dissatisfaction with his existing relationships. He saw it as a battle of wills, himself the animal craving to be both goaded and tamed. While one part of his brain said fuck, no the other part said more, more, more.
Forcibly shutting down his internal dialogue, he shoved himself out of bed and padded into the bathroom. In the shower he realized he couldn't possibly get dressed with his penis so heavy and hard. As he leaned against the tile wall of the shower, hot water beating down on him, he stroked himself roughly to completion.
Closing his eyes, he imagined standing before her. His mouth grew dry at the vision of her spun-gold hair drifting around her face, the pale tracery of veins beneath her delicate skin, the faint beat of her pulse at the sweet hollow of her throat, blue eyes gleaming with hunger as she watched him come for her. Maybe when he was finished she'd lift his hand and lick it clean before wrapping those moist lips around his cock.
Stop!
He had to get dressed. Get outside. The hands were moving part of the herd from one pasture to another today and everyone was needed, including him. His hand was shaking as he turned off the stream of water and stepped out to dry himself. He managed to pull on his clothes and his boots without passing out, but his body was so weak it took a supreme effort of concentration.
By the time he reached the kitchen he had thankfully managed to pull himself together.
"Everyone else ate and headed out," Annette scolded.
The woman had come with the ranch, so to speak, having served as housekeeper for the previous owner. She lived in a tiny house just past the barn that looked as if it had been built one year before God, but she always assured him that it suited her just fine. No, she didn't need him to make any improvements, thank you very much, so quit pestering her about it. Quinn wasn't sure of her exact age. Somewhere between forty and sixty, he guessed, with a solid body. She wore her graying dark hair in a long braid down her back and he'd never seen her with makeup. Or clad in anything except jeans and shirts, come to think of it. She dispensed the law of man according to Annette along with the most delicious meals he'd ever eaten, and kept the hands under tight control. Every morning he prayed she hadn't decided to pull up stakes and move on.
"Late night?" she prodded.
"Hard night at the bar," he mumbled.
That had been the damn truth. Only it wasn't the bar that had been hard.
Annette poured coffee into a mug for him and took two egg and sausage biscuit sandwiches out of the oven. She studied his face. "You'll kill yourself running the ranch and that bar at the same time."
He swallowed some of the coffee. "I think I might have fixed that last night."
"Yeah?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Not with that piece of trash Artie you've had in there."
Quinn smiled, remembering Selene's attitude where Artie was concerned.
"No, Annette. Artie's history." Another gulp of coffee. "Got myself a new one who knows what she's doing."
"She?" Annette's jaw dropped. "I heard the boys saying something about it when they ate but I didn't pay it much attention. Where'd you get her? What makes you think a woman can handle those roughnecks, anyway?"
"She wandered in looking for a job. Can you believe it? By the end of the night she had everyone eating out of her hand."
Annette barked a short laugh. "This I gotta see."
"Maybe I can coax her out here for one of your meals sometime."
When exactly would that be, you idiot?
Last night he'd wanted very badly to spend the rest of it with her but she was adamant.
"Vampires need to sleep. Alone."
Vampires, for shit's sake.
Of course, between Sam's shaman stuff and his grandfather's tales, it didn't sound near as crazy as it should. He slugged down the rest of the coffee and picked up the two breakfast sandwiches. "I expect the boys are already out with the herd?"
"And probably cussing you for sleeping in."
Quinn looked at his watch. Six thirty. Yeah, she was right. But that damn dream--
"On my way."
He strode to the barn to retrieve his black gelding, Midnight, and saddle him. While he was doing that, Kevin Lang limped out of the barn. Unable to work the cattle after an accident, he now kept the tack in shape and made sure the stalls were mucked and the horses fed.
"They're all out in the west pasture, Quinn." The old man squinted up at him. "Heard you drive in real late last night. I'm surprised you can even sit a horse today."
"I'm fine, old man." About to get better. "See you later."
He wolfed down one of the breakfast sandwiches before swinging up into the saddle and urging Midnight forward. As he cantered past the barn, Annette's little place and the bunkhouse, he skirted around the big steel building that held his small private plane.
Along with having a ranch, flying his own plane had been another deep-seated goal. He'd taken some of his rodeo winnings and bought the little two-seater for a good price, had the steel building thrown up, tarmac poured for the runway and some landing lights installed. Though he used the plane sometimes to check fences and water holes, he hadn't had the opportunity to use it for pleasure, embrace the sense of freedom flying brought him. Maybe if Selene worked out at After Hours he'd be able to take off for some place now and then.
With Selene.
Yeah, he'd like that. Always supposing he could talk her into it.
Riding to the west pasture, he relished the feel of the big horse beneath him, muscles moving rhythmically between his thighs.
Unbidden, his mind called up the image of Selene straddling him last night, riding him as he rode this bronc, the silken fall of her hair like a curtain surrounding him. Did she get the same feeling when her thighs were pressed against his body? Did the same sense of dominance race through her, the edge of excitement at controlling such power with just a touch of the hand or a flex of thigh muscles?
There was that word again. Dominance. He hadn't been able to get it out of his head.
Quinn was far from a sexual novice and Lord knew he'd played his share of kinky games. But this thing with Selene was something way beyond that. When he drove his cock into her he'd felt like a bucking horse thrusting into a brood mare. Her being in complete control of the situation only ramped up the lust and desire boiling inside him.
He couldn't lie to himself. The sex had been amazing. No, beyond that. Mind-blowing. His mouth watered as he recalled the perfect deep rose of her nipples and the sweet pink flesh of her cunt.
Business, Pedraza. Pay attention. You have a ranch to run.
The men were already rounding up the cattle when he reached the west pasture. He kept a crew of four experienced and dependable hands who needed little supervision from him. They'd taught him everything he now knew about ranching, all the things he'd refused to learn as a boy. He shook his head over the memory of that sullen adolescent, the rebellious teenager who could have ended up doing nothing with his life, if other factors hadn't intervened. Well, one major factor. Sam.
He wondered what the old shaman would think of Selene. He'd probably get that sage look on his face but say something smartass, like a 1950s cheesy western flick. "White man who thinks with his little head ends up losing his big one."
"Hey, Quinn." Johnny Barragan urged his horse forward and trotted over to greet him. His foreman had worked for the old man who owned Last Chance before Quinn and knew more about ranching than even Quinn's dad had. "Planning to wait until we got all the cows moved before you got your ass out of bed?"
Moving part of the herd from one pasture to the othe
r in preparation for planting new grain was something they could almost do in their sleep. Considering his schedule lately, today he was more than grateful for that. Even so, he had to give the guys a hard time. Part of the comfortable routine of the day.
"Yeah." Quinn grinned at Johnny. "Thought I'd let you guys do all the hard work before I showed up."
