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Authors: Annabelle Weston

BOOK: NotoriousWoman
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His mind had already shifted from what she was saying. He
was on the brink of grabbing her hair, yanking her head back and smashing his
mouth to hers.

She raised her eyes level with his. They were brown eyes.
“So we’re going to be working together, and the only way that can succeed is
for you and me to get along.”

Jake shifted his feet. He hadn’t expected the candor. The
fire and ice had disappeared, replaced by the talk of a practical woman who was
telling him the what for. And yet he couldn’t help but wonder if what she
really wanted was a man in her bed. A man to add sparks to her flame.

He could be wrong, of course, but he didn’t think so.

“From what I’ve seen, there’s plenty of work to be done.” He
swallowed the frog in his throat. “I’m not a man to shy from hard work.”

“Good,” she said, with a hint of a smile. “Now, let’s not
have any more talk of you eating a cold supper out here in the bunkhouse. Jolie
has fixed a spread and she’s a good cook. You don’t want to disappoint my
sister, do you? ”

“No ma’am,” Jake said.

She broke off her gaze. Had they settled something between
them? Jake wasn’t sure. If this was her way of managing her hired help, he’d be
the first to admit he was all in.

How different she was from the woman he’d seen in town.
She’d gone after old Mack with a whip and didn’t give two shakes who cared.
Jake came to the conclusion that as long as he did what she wanted, she could
be the sweet-tempered woman any man would be proud to have as a wife. Cross her
and there’d be the devil to pay.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a wander around before I come
in,” he said. Jake needed to clear his head.

“Don’t be long.” Hospitality sparkled in her eyes but the
smile had faded. He’d no doubt she was used to getting her way.

He wanted to kiss her. Would she let him?

To hell with it.
He’d cogitated long enough. He was a
man of action and couldn’t resist touching her any longer. He took hold of a
dark curl that’d sprung loose from her braid and placed it behind her ear. She
stayed put, her dark eyes smoldering.

He brushed the smooth contour of her cheek, and his cock
jumped. He drew his thumb down to the corner of her moist mouth. An unfamiliar
ache deep inside surprised him. He wanted to take ownership of that sweet,
sassy mouth. And he did.

The kiss was chaste by anybody’s standard, nothing but a
quick brush of his lips across hers. But still it stirred his body as though
he’d plundered her mouth deep and thoroughly.

She flinched from him as if he’d branded her. But in her
eyes there was a desire that ignited his own.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, leaned in for a second try.
She closed her eyes and sank against him, her moistened mouth ready for his. He
pressed his lips to hers, stayed liked that for a minute, enjoying himself.
Then his good sense left him. He stroked his tongue over her lips, between them.
She opened her mouth to him, sighing, and he delved inside to taste her
sweetness.

He grunted his approval at her wanton kiss. But he wanted
more. He tore his mouth from hers and trailed hot kisses over her cheek to her
neck, where he nuzzled briefly before seeking his true quest. Her breasts. With
deft fingers he undid the buttons of her shirt and bared free luscious flesh.
She was creamy-white, silken perfection. Her nipples a delicious cherry red.
God, he wanted to suckle them both at the same time.

She stroked his nakedness, starting at his abdomen and up
his chest with featherlight caresses.

His skin tingled. She continued her torment of his flesh.
Her fingertips rimmed the waist of his pants then caressed the expanse of his
back.

“Jake,” she moaned against his lips—begging him in a
whimper. There was no mistaking what the woman wanted. He was the man who could
deliver.

He kissed her all the more and pressed his hard cock against
the apex of her thighs. He gripped her hips, pulling her closer so he could
feel the heat of her womanhood on his length.

She rocked her hips against his, her fingers no longer
feathery but pressing hard, massaging, begging him to have his way with her.

He couldn’t forget she was his boss and he’d only taken the
job for a bet but right now she was on fire, a woman with a need, and he could
take her to the edge and back.

Gripping a buttock, he found it was firm yet soft. He palmed
a breast. Her nipple puckered as he brushed his thumb across it. No corset for
this cowhand. The only thing barring him from her bare flesh was the denim
shirt she wore.

She sucked in her breath and nipped at his lips as he rolled
the turgid peak with his thumb and finger.

Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling.

Jake couldn’t resist. He ducked his head and circled her
nipple with his tongue, taking pleasure in her gasps and moans. Her fingers
threaded through his hair, tugging him closer.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue
furiously over the peak. Her back arched but he snaked his arm around her waist
to hold her steady. He gave his attention to her other breast while his fingers
fumbled with the buttons of her britches. At last he breached them and found
her thigh.

She jumped, and for a moment he feared she would pull back,
but she didn’t. Instead, her nails dug into the back of his head, urging him to
suck her nipple harder. He continued his trail up her leg.

His fingers met with dewy curls at the juncture of her
thighs. She was wet for him. He inhaled deeply, smelling the musky scent of her
arousal.

“Oh woman, you are so hot…” he murmured. He drove a finger
deep inside her. The muscles of her cunny clenched tight. He withdrew then dove
back in with two fingers, then three. He stretched her wide, loving the slick
feeling of her cream sluicing down his fingers. He brushed a thumb over her nub
of pleasure, reveling in her bucking as he did so.

“Yes,” she panted. “Don’t stop.” Her words were shaky, just
as her legs were.

He wrapped one of her legs around his waist so he could gain
better access to her cunny. He continued to drive his fingers inside her,
pumping like he wanted his cock to do. Her breaths were ragged now, her grip
tight on his head and shoulders. Her body rolled with each thrust of his
fingers and brush of his thumb over her swollen nub.

“God, yes, come for me, Kate.” He wanted her to tighten, to
clench and release around his fingers. Wanted to toss her to the ground and
fuck the hell out of her, but first he needed her pleasure, to let her
understand that her experience was just as important as his.

Within moments, her cunny vibrated as the spasms of orgasm
took hold. She shrieked, her body stiffening and then shuddering.

He drove his fingers deep, sucked her nipples hard, until
her climax subsided. She sighed with contentment, her body still a little
shaky. He let her leg down, pulled his fingers from her cunny and sucked them
into his mouth.

“You taste so good,” he growled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise her fist. The
next thing he knew, she’d punched him with a right swing to his chin.

Jake’s head snapped to the side and he staggered backward,
the room spinning. “What the hell?”

Completely confused as to why she’d hit him, he reached out
to steady himself but bumped into the iron rail of the top bunk.

“I’ll ask you to mind your manners,” she said, her tongue as
sharp as a razor. She pulled up her britches.

He clamped a fist to his throbbing forehead, his fingers
still wet and sticky. There wasn’t any blood but his teeth felt loose and his
head hurt like hell.

Had he misread what she was after? Not Jake Madden. Kate had
enjoyed every damn minute of what he’d done to her. Her climax had been
monumental with his fingers buried deep inside her. She’d been a willing
partner.

Why had she just bucked him off like that?

Kate stormed out of the bunkhouse, shoulders back and head
held high, leaving him to wonder.

Tarnation. This bet had just gotten a damn sight harder.

* * * * *

Kate stomped into the house and slammed the door. What the
fuck had just happened?

“Scoundrel,” she muttered under her breath and started
pacing.

“What have you done now?” Jolie asked from the stove, her
back to Kate.

“Never you mind.” What she had done was explode into a
thousand pieces. Why had Jake done that? Why had she let him?

“Pardon me for asking,” Jolie replied.

Kate looked a fright and didn’t want her sister to see her.
Her cheeks were hot. At least she’d had the foresight to fix her clothing
before she came inside. She rushed into her room and splashed cold water on her
face. She squinted in the mirror. Her hair had come out of the braid. He’d
tucked a strand behind her ear. His touch had unraveled her. What he’d done
next she couldn’t be held responsible for.

When she emerged from her room, she’d calmed down, but not
really. Her entire body hummed from the overpowering burst of shooting stars
Jake had elicited from her.

Stew bubbled, steam rising from the lid of the kettle.
Delicious scents of the vegetables, spices and venison filled the room. Jolie
had gone to a lot of trouble to put on a feed for the new foreman.

Kate’s cheek still burned where Jake had touched her. Her
lips twitched as she remembered the kiss, his mouth on her breasts, his fingers
deep inside her. She’d had all the willpower of a cat in heat when he’d caressed
her. Instincts bade her to lean into his touch. The need for him to give her
what she wanted had been her undoing.

“Damn scoundrel!”

“Are you talking about the new hire?” Jolie asked
innocently. She lifted the lid and gave the pot a quick stir.

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“What did he say?” Jolie said. “Or should I ask what did he
do?”

“What does it matter? He’s no good.”

“How can you pass judgment? You’ve only just met the man.”

Kate stopped and glared. “Believe me. I
know
a
scoundrel when I see one.”

Jolie tapped her wooden spoon on the side of the pot and put
it down. “Don’t talk to me in that tone, Kate. I’m not a child.” She tramped
out of the room and into her small bedroom, slamming the door.

They’d both been doing that a lot lately.

Kate pulled herself together. There was no reason to snap at
Jolie. Sure, Jake was quick on the draw and had caught her off guard. She
could’ve prevented the situation from happening with a little more ladylike
self-control.

What was she going to do with a man who had one thing in
mind? Hell, what was she going to do with herself? Could she face him after
what had just happened? She’d never been more mortified.

She knocked on the bedroom door. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

Jolie opened the door. Her color was high.

“Forgive me?”

Her sister smiled a fraction. “Sure.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled but Jake is driving me
loco
.”

“Oh?”

“Not in a good way.”

“So what did he do?” she asked, eager for details.

Kate bit her lower lip. She could
not
tell her sister
everything. “Not so much what he did but what I did. I hit him.”

Jolie’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

“I’m afraid I did.”

Jolie’s shoulders sagged. “Now he’ll leave—just like Mack.”

Kate feared the same.

“I’ll go see if he’s all right,” Jolie said, reaching for
the shawl that hung on the back of her door. “Let’s hope Jake is a forgiving
man.”

She left and Kate went into the parlor and collapsed into a
chair. Less than one hour had passed with Jake Madden on the ranch and she was
already addlebrained. What was wrong with her? Where did they go from here?

* * * * *

Jake sat on the bunk and closed his eyes. His head throbbed
when he tried to open his mouth. He’d been told some people heard music when
they took a blow to the head. Well, both his ears were ringing like church
bells on Sunday.

Luckily the blow hadn’t drawn blood.

He heard a knock and didn’t answer. What did that female
want now?

The door opened. “Are you all right?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Go away.”

She touched his shoulder, held him down. “Stay quiet, Jake.”

“What the…” Jake shrugged out her grasp and struggled to his
feet. Kate Crowley wouldn’t nail him twice.

“Take it easy.”

“Keep your distance, woman.” The room spun around him and
his vision went gray. His legs had the strength of corn mush. He reached out
for something, anything to support himself. His legs wouldn’t hold him and he
collapsed on the bed.

To his relief, Jolie Crowley knelt next to him, a picture of
sympathy and concern.

“It’s me, Jolie. Just try and relax,” she said. “You’ll be
back to normal in no time. She didn’t hit you that hard.”

“Hard enough,” he exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Make no
mistake. Your sister packs a wallop.”

“Tsk tsk,” was her reply. Jake couldn’t help but wonder if
the two were in cahoots.

She examined him closer, touching his swollen jaw. She
smelled good and her touch was gentle, but his mama didn’t raise no fool. The
Crowley women were as mean—and unpredictable—as rattlers.

“Leave me be,” he said, pulling away from her and stared at
the rough-hewn wood of the ceiling.

“You’re luckier than most. You’ve only got a bump the size
of a pigeon’s egg in the middle of your forehead.”

He started to shake his head and stopped. The pain was
getting worse. “More like a goose egg.”

“I’ll run and get some whiskey from the barn,” Jolie said.

“Whiskey would suit me fine.”

She lit out of there.

He’d had his fill of these Crowley women. What he needed was
to escape while he could. He’d have a sizable debt to pay for not finishing
what he’d started, but he’d stay alive.

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