Kissing the Bull (6 page)

She looked back at Wyatt. He
was clutching his hand over his heart, the look on his face unreadable. The
sound of sirens in the distance met her ears.

Chapter
Five

Baylor dropped her aunt and
uncle off at the Louisville airport the next morning. She’d insisted they go on
ahead to Florida. It was just too dangerous here at the ranch with theft,
murder, and now arson.

Something radical was going on
here and she was going to find out what. It was no safe place for two elderly
people. Fortunately, her aunt and uncle hadn’t been hurt. Uncle Duane had
inhaled some smoke, but the doctor at the emergency room had released him later
that night.

Baylor had booked them all a
hotel room and called Chris with the news. He’d purchased the airline tickets
and the decision was made.

She would stay on at the ranch
and take care of business for now. This was her family and she wasn’t running
anymore.

Wyatt had spent the night in
the hospital with his son, who was in critical but stable condition. She hadn’t
spoken to him since he’d left in the ambulance, but she’d checked in several
times for updates from the ICU nurses.

As she drove back toward
Versailles, she thought about Wyatt and all the things her uncle had explained
about him during the two-hour drive this morning.

Wyatt Winston had been a world-renowned
professional bull rider. He’d mounted his first bull when he was only nine
years old and never stopped. Two decades later, his career was over. After one
particularly nasty fall, he’d broken his back and shattered his knee. He was
told he should never ride again if he wanted to live.

Through two years of difficult
therapy and recovery, he struggled to walk again. And as soon as he did, he got
back on a bull. Everyone called him stubborn and stupid. But he was once again
the best in the world.

Until one fateful night when he
mounted a particularly nasty bull named Righteous Ride. During the ride, he was
thrown forward and smacked his face into the back of the bull’s head, something
in bull riding known as “kissing the bull”.

The hit crushed one of his
facial skull bones back into his brain, causing a brain bleed. He was in a coma
for over a year. No one thought he would come out of it. No one thought he’d
walk, talk, or think for himself again.

He proved he was not done being
stubborn, because he came back.

But this time he sunk into a
deep depression and finally had to give up bull riding, the one true love of
his life. He had withdrawn from everything until Duane
Markum
had found him in a cheap hotel room on the outskirts of Lexington.

Uncle Duane had followed the
story closely and had searched for Wyatt when he’d heard he might be in town.

He offered him a job at the
ranch and Wyatt had been with them for the last year. He’d taken care of them
and the ranch. He’d taken the job as the local sheriff. The townspeople trusted
and respected him. The way they saw it, any man who could survive all of that
was worthy of their trust.

Baylor gained a newfound
respect for Wyatt after hearing his story. She was so glad she’d had the chance
to meet him and to save his son.

She’d asked Uncle Duane and
Aunt Melba about his son, but they suggested she get those details from him.
They didn’t feel it was their place to talk about his family business.

She’d smiled when they told her
this. Those sweet old people were just as much parents to her as her own
parents were, and maybe, in some ways, more.

She had to make sure they were
safe, and she would take care of their home…her new home. The decision suddenly
felt right, felt clear.

Her cell phone rang just as she
crossed over the county line.

She reached down to retrieve it
from the seat next to her.

“Hello,” she said, feeling more
confident than she had in months.

“I need to see you.”

Wyatt’s voice needed no
introduction. It was deeper and had a more raspy quality to it than she
remembered, but she didn’t know if it was because of the smoke inhalation or
the emotions he was going through with his son.

“Is Walker okay?” Her
heartrate
increased as she feared the boy might have taken
a turn for the worse.

“Yes, they say they can move
him to a regular room tomorrow if he stays stable.”

Baylor let out a deep breath
she didn’t realize she was holding until she made the loud sound through the
receiver.

“Thank goodness.”

“No, thank you.” Wyatt’s voice
sounded a little different now and it gave her chill bumps.

“Do you want me to stop by the
hospital?”

“No, I’m heading back to the
ranch. I need to take a shower and get cleaned up. Could you meet me at my bunk
house?”

“On my way.”
She snapped the phone shut and steered her
car through the small town toward the Double R ranch.

She was suddenly very excited
about the prospect of seeing Wyatt again.
Holding him.
Touching him.
Knowing he was okay, and that everything
would be okay.

Well, as soon as they caught a
thief, a murderer, and an arsonist.

****

The rain had come with no
warning. Wyatt sat on the porch swing in a fresh pair of jeans and towel dried
his hair. He’d just finished a nice hot shower after pulling an all-nighter by
his son’s bed.

The strain of the situation
gathered in his back. He needed to get this matter resolved, regain his focus
on his goals. The petty theft at the Double R had somehow spun out of control
and all of it had happened on his watch.

He’d suspected Leon Rinks of
taking the missing items. He had planned to confront him and arrest him as soon
as the man took the bait. But then Leon had shown up mysteriously dead,
possibly murdered, and that spoke of something much bigger going on behind the
scenes.

Who would want Leon dead, or
was he even the intended target?

The thought of his son lying in
the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, tubes, and looking as if he were ready
to knock on death’s door made his chest ache. He had never been able to be the
father he should have been to the boy, and coming to Kentucky in search of him
had been the one thing he’d done right in all these years.

He wasn’t about to let his son
die at the hands of some lunatic, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be run
off the property of his dreams.

Before he could work himself
into more of an angry lather at the thought of what he would do to the person
responsible for that fire, he saw Baylor’s small car swing around the corner
and down the path to his bungalow.

He’d taken the
Markums
’ generous offer to rent a bungalow on their
property for him and Walker. It provided a nice home for the boy and they’d
both been doing well, with Walker making good grades in school and only bucking
Wyatt’s authority here and there.

The boy was just like him. He
had the same wild and stubborn hardheadedness that would make a wonderful bull
rider. The boy had asked, but Wyatt had adamantly refused. He couldn’t bear the
thought of his son getting hurt. Even though, having him follow in his boot
steps might have gone some way toward healing Wyatt. Yet he simply couldn’t
allow it.

But now the boy was hurt
despite Wyatt’s watchful eye. The doctors said he was out of the woods, but
Wyatt wanted to get back to him as soon as he could.

As soon as he sought some
comfort in her.

****

They sat in silence on the
porch swing, watching the rain fall. He could smell the scent of her shampoo in
her rain-dampened hair. A mere whiff of it made him hungry—vanilla and brown
sugar.

He reached over and slid his
hand beneath her hair at the base of her neck, caressing the soft curve at the
back of her head. She shivered slightly at the touch.

He leaned in and pressed his
lips to the tender skin and flicked just the tip of his tongue against the warm
spot. She tasted sweet and he wanted more.

He began to suck at her neck as
he nuzzled closer. She emitted a small squeak of tickled pleasure at the
contact. He’d found one of her sweet spots. He planned to find all of them
within the next hour.

He reached up and touched her
chin with two fingers, turning her to face him. Looking into her eyes, he tried
to read her thoughts.

It was unlike her to be so
quiet and without nervous chatter.

“You okay?” he asked as he
rubbed his thumb in a small circle against her cheek.

She nodded but remained silent.

He searched her eyes for
answers, but all he saw was passion, longing, and a desire that made the blood
begin to pump faster through his veins.

That look in her eyes was all
he needed to see.

His lips found hers a moment
later and he kissed her deep and hard. He didn’t hold back and she didn’t
resist. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood from the swing. Taking
her into his arms, he then carried her through the open sliding glass door.

They made it to the bedroom in
a few quick strides and soon he had her completely naked and sprawled out on
his crisp sheets. He leaned back, soaking in the vision of her gorgeous red
hair against the bed linen.

She still didn’t speak. Just
lay there with a certain vulnerability he couldn’t describe.

Only he knew she was giving him
something.
A gift.

He’d already
unwrapped
it, and now he was going to take his time savoring every inch of it.

****

The look in his eyes was different
from any Baylor had seen since she’d met him. It was one of pure desire and
absolute possessiveness. He wanted her. In the same way she’d wanted him the
first time she’d seen him standing in that doorway.

Nothing else mattered right
now. The rain fell against the tin roof of the house and it was the only sound
she could hear other than her heartbeat galloping steadily behind her eardrums.

As he stood there, studying her
naked body, she had the inclination she should feel embarrassed or at least self-conscious.
Yet she was more relaxed and sure than she had been in months, maybe years.

She watched as he knelt before
her. His chest was bare, his hair wet from the shower. He still wore his jeans
but she had a feeling the second those hit the floor, he’d be on her and inside
her. She was looking forward to that more than anything.

He interrupted her careful
evaluation of his half-clothed body by sinking down between her legs and
stroking her aching pussy with his thumb. He pressed the pad of his thumb against
her yearning clit. She twitched at the contact. She was so tender and sensitive
there.

Her clit was swollen and erect
with her excitement, and she felt as if she could come with only the tiniest
bit of stimulation. He seemed to sense her titillation and relinquished the
delicious pressure of his thumb. Then he opted to lick her wet slit with the
tip of his tongue, moving from bottom to top in a slow, torturous rhythm of
expert cunnilingus.

She stretched her arms above
her head and grabbed the head rail of the bed. She wanted to pull herself away
from the teasing tongue as it threatened to drive her over the edge of
insanity. Instead she used the leverage to push herself against his tongue as
it dived into the depths of her tight pussy.

In and out.
Around and around.
Lapping, stroking, tasting, and taunting. He knew just what she needed to send
her flying into an intoxicated rapture.

But just when she thought it
couldn’t feel any better, he inserted the tip of his finger inside the delicate
ring of her ass. The exquisite pressure, the sheer torture of that forbidden
place was all it took to finish her off in a raging orgasm that left her
breathless and a bit tired.

She lay there panting for a
moment, and when she opened her eyes, she found him hovering over her. He
looked like pure sex and carnal heaven on earth all wrapped up in one delicious
package.

“That was…” She didn’t even
have the right word to do his skills justice.

He didn’t wait for her to think
of one. He leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. Their tongues danced
and she tasted the salty sweetness of her own juices. She wrapped her bare legs
around his jean-clad ass and pulled him against her hot, aching pussy.

He ran his hands up her legs
and cupped her ass. The weight of him pressing down on her left her short of
breath. But it was exciting, and the longing to have him inside her reached a
fever pitch as he ground the rough fabric of his coarse denim crotch into her
tenderness.