Chapter 34

Levi and Wiley stay back at the barn because they have other things to do they claim. So it ends up just being Dakota and me. He grabs one of the four-wheelers and hops on before gesturing for me to hop on the back. I climb up and wrap my arms around his waist before he takes off, speeding away from the house.

I’ve ridden on the back of a motorcycle before. Questionable choices in men led to questionable modes of transportation once upon a time, but none of that prepared me for riding on the back of a four-wheeler across rough ground. It’s a bumpy ride that throws me tighter against Dakota’s back, my groin grinding against the back of his jeans and driving me insane. At one point, my hat flies off and we have to stop for me to grab it and shove it down further on my head. Dakota keeps driving until we’re at the base of the mountains. Only when he’s happy with the position does he stop and help me off.

“We needed to come all the way out here to shoot?” I ask, looking around. I have to admit, it’s a beautiful spot. The mountains above us are gorgeous. I often think I could sit out and stare at them all day.

“It makes for better practice,” he shrugs. “Besides, I like the way the sounds echo out here.” He reaches into the bucket hanging from the back of the four-wheeler and pulls out a bunch of glass beer bottles, all empty. “Targets,” he offers as explanation before going and setting them up on a log.

“You think I’m gonna be able to hit those?” I ask with raised brow. “I’ve never even shot a gun before.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be hitting ‘em,” he replies with a smile. “Now come on over here.”

I step up to his side as he holds up his revolver.

“This here is mine. It’s gonna be too big for you to use all the time, but it’ll be fine for practice. I’ll get you a smaller one to carry.”

“To carry?” I repeat. “I have to carry one?”

“Well, a gun don’t do much good if you ain’t got it on you,” he laughs.

I grimace. “True, I suppose.”

He points to the barrel. “This is where the bullet comes out of.” When I level him with an annoyed glare, his grin widens. “You said you’ve never shot one. I figured we’d start with remedial gun facts.”

“I’m not stupid,” I growl, thumping him in the bicep. “I know how it works. I’ve just never shot one.”

He nods. “Okay, okay. Well, main rules. Don’t pull it out unless you plan to use it. Don’t point it at anyone at any time unless you’re going to shoot them.”

“Understandable,” I nod. “What else?”

“If someone else has a gun pointed at you, shoot first,” he says. At my look of disbelief, he shakes his head. “You’re an amateur. If someone is pointing a gun at you, they won’t be. Don’t prolong it. Your best chance of survival is shooting first. Always aim for the largest part of the body.”

“So, the chest,” I mumble, nodding.

“Unless he has a monster cock,” Dakota says, drawing a giggle from me. “Then aim for that.”

“Good to know,” I say, shaking my head. “Okay, show me how to shoot it.”

He points to the gun. “This is a revolver. A handgun won’t work exactly the same and that’ll probably be what you carry, but we’ll work on that later. I’ll show you this one.” He points to a part on the back of the gun. “The hammer is also the safety on a revolver. This notch is the safety. The cylinder holds six bullets. To shoot, you pull back the hammer, and squeeze the trigger.”

“So there’s no fancy safety switch?” I ask, studying it.

“Nope. Just the hammer. This is a bit old school.”

I reach up and brush my finger along the golden inlaid work along the grip. The ranch brand is inlaid in the carved ivory worn but well kept.

“It was my dad’s,” he offers as explanation even though I don’t ask. “The one he used when he shot himself.”

I jerk my hand away. “What? Why would you carry that with you?”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It was passed down from his pa, and now it’s mine. It’s how things go. Besides, I don’t blame the gun. I blame the man.” He gestures for me to stand beside him. “Now, watch this.”

He aims the gun, using both hands to steady it as he turns to the side. He looks down the sight for a second, cocks the hammer, and pulls the trigger. One of the bottles shatters as I cover my ears from the boom. It’s louder than I expected, and it echoes over and over again through the mountains. A flock of birds take off behind us, screeching their protest.

“Your turn,” he says, turning back to me. Eyes wide, I step up and let him fold my hands around the gun before he braces me with his body. “Now, this one has a nasty recoil. Keep your hands tight and don’t let your elbows bend back unless you want to be smacked in the face.”

“Great,” I mumble, squinting my eyes to try and aim at one of the bottles.

“Take your time. No need to rush. Most people can’t hit a beer bottle at this distance.”

I take a deep breath and pull back the hammer. My hand shakes and I try my best to steady it. When I pull the trigger, not a single bottle shatters. The bullet hits the ground harmlessly behind them. The gun jerks my hands back, but I manage not to hit myself in the face, at least.

“That was a good first shot,” Dakota murmurs in my ear.

“I missed,” I point out.

“I expected you to miss,” he laughs. “I’ve been shooting since I was five, Kate. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

We spend the next thirty minutes firing at the bottles. Or I do. Dakota mostly just watches and encourages me on how to fix it. Eventually, he stops bracing me and my hands get steadier. Still, I don’t hit a single bottle. He shows me how to reload the gun, how to pop out the cylinder, and drop six more bullets in. He always makes it look far sexier when he reloads and spins the barrel. I doubt I look nearly as attractive fumbling with it.

I try one more time, getting closer, but still never hitting any of the bottles. I groan as I fire off the last shot and scowl. “This is such bullshit.”

“Nah, I think you’re doing great. A regular ole Calamity Jane,” he teases.

“Pretty sure Calamity Jane hit her targets,” I point out.

“That she did,” he nods. “And you will, too. Keep in mind those are small targets and further away than your targets will likely be.”

His words remind me why we’re doing this, and I set the gun down on the back of the four-wheeler and sigh.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” I say, feeling my heart rate kick up in anxiety. “This is so stupid.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dakota coos. “You’re a part of this family now and we protect our own.”

I press a hand to my forehead. “I should have told you from the beginning.” Maybe they wouldn’t have even hired me had I told them. They’d be safer that way.

“We understand why you didn’t tell us,” he counters. “It’s fine.”

“I’m gonna get you all killed,” I breathe, looking down.

His strong fingers find my chin and tilt it up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “You belong with us, Kate. And we ain’t letting you run away without a fight.”

“You hardly like me,” I say, frustrated.

“What makes you think that?” he asks, his brow raised.

“You said so in the beginning. I’m just a city girl. And despite Levi’s change in attitude, he probably still hates me, too,” I argue, shaking my head.

He grins. “You don’t question Wiley though?”

“Of course not,” I muse. “He openly likes me.”

His fingers leave my chin and his grin falls. “It seems I’ve done you a disservice then, Kate.”

“What’s that?” I ask, looking up at him.

“You should know exactly how amazing and beautiful you are. And I should tell you every day that I want you here,” he breathes, leaning closer.

“Don’t I just make things harder?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not at all. You took a few weeks to learn but you’re a damn fast learner. The only thing you make difficult is me focusing on what I gotta do every day. You distract me with your existence. I find it hard to work when all I can think about is you out there working, you out there while I’m stuck inside.” He leans closer. “Only because I get hard at the most inconvenient times thinking about you with Wiley or Levi, about how you must look while screaming their names.”

My breath stops. “What?”

“You think I don’t think of it every waking moment?” he asks with a growl. “I see the way they look at you, Kate, and let me tell you, Levi doesn’t hate you, just as I don’t. You think we’d go through all this trouble for someone we hate?”

“You might,” I breathe.

“We’re not that noble,” he says, pressing me back against the four-wheeler. “You can think us that, but we ain’t. We’re hardly some beacons of righteousness.”

“You don’t seem so bad to me,” I murmur.

He threads his hand into my hair and jerks my head back, forcing my chin to tilt all the way up as he presses against my front. His other hand grabs my hip and squeezes. “You ran from one set of demons, and you don’t even realize you found another.”

My heart seizes. “What do you mean?”

“Too late to run now, Calamity Kate,” he purrs. “You found a nest of rattlesnakes. You can’t fear their venom now.”

He presses his lips against mine before I can ask him what he means. My anxiety flares, but when his hand tightens in my hair, it flies out the window. What was I worried about again? The fact they’re keeping secrets? We all have secrets.

And fuck if I don’t want to let this man consume me, rattlesnake or not.

He shoves me against the back of the four-wheeler before hoisting me up on top of it, balancing me there before stepping in between my legs.

“I ain’t ever fucked a woman on my four-wheeler,” he rasps as he shoves my shirt and bra up in one fluid motion. “I think it’s time I rectify that, don’t ya think?”

“Yes,” I pant as he covers my nipple with his mouth. “I agree.”

He reaches down and unbuttons my jeans before shoving them down under my hips. I kick my boots off as he does, trying to help, but he stops me as I’m about to reach for his jeans. He jerks my hands over my head and forces me to lay down on the seat. When he wraps my fingers around the handlebars, I eye him.

“Don’t let go,” he warns.

I do as he says, not expecting much of anything until he immediately leans down and buries his face between my thighs. I cry out and close my legs, but he shoulders them back apart and glares at me.

“No,” he growls. “You stay open now, or else I might not be so nice.”

But he’s being too direct and my legs slowly start to close again. He smacks me right on my clit and I jerk in surprise and pain.

“Ow!” I growl, glaring down at him.

“I told you not to close your thighs.”

“Then do it fucking right,” I snarl. “You’re being too aggressive!”

His eyes crinkle. “Am I being too aggressive, city girl?” he hums. “Them city boys don’t fuck you right, do they?”

I open my mouth and close it. “Well. . . not really, no.”

“Shame,” he chuckles. “We do it different out here.”

He stands and unbuckles his pants then before shoving his jeans down around his hips. His hand immediately wraps around my throat and squeezes, holding me still as he lines his cock up with my entrance.

“After this, I’m gonna fuck you while I drive the four-wheeler,” he muses, and then thrusts inside me.

I would have cried out if not for the tightening of his hand on my throat. It cuts off all sound. I forget for a moment that I’m supposed to hang onto the handle bars and bring my arms down to grab at him. He immediately pulls out and flips me, bending me over the four-wheeler before brutally slamming inside me.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he groans. “The mountains in the background, your ass in the air.”

My toes don’t even touch the ground because of the height of the four-wheeler, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. His cock slams inside of me over and over again as he ruthlessly fucks me. I scream, enjoying every minute of it, but just before I can finish, he jerks out of me and smacks me on the ass.

“Not yet,” he growls, before grabbing me around the waist and lifting me up. He climbs onto the four-wheeler with me in his arms and bends be over the handlebars. “Hang on,” he orders, just before he slides back inside me and starts up the four-wheeler.

My eyes widen as he starts to jerk my hips back against him, instructing me to move as he kicks the four-wheeler into gear and takes off. The wind pushes my hair back and after a moment of disbelief, I start to move, riding him as we ride the four-wheeler. It’s a rush, and I fully trust him not to wreck us as we drive. My eyes close as the wind rushes past up, pebbling my nipples as I hang over the handle bars. When I start to come undone, he groans and pulls back on the throttle, sending us flying. My adrenaline skyrockets.

“Dakota!” I cry, my hands clenching tight on the handles.

“Right there,” he groans, shoving me down harder. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

My legs shake as he starts to moan, his own releasing finding him there in the adrenaline of the mountains, and the four-wheeler finally slows to a crawl. His hand clenches tightly on my hip, holding me down on his cock, forcing me to take all of him.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as we stop completely. “That was as good as I imagined.”

I’m windswept, and still in disbelief that stoic, buttoned-up Dakota just took me on the four-wheeler ride of my life.

“Yeah,” I pant, going to move.

His hand tightens on my hip. “Not just yet, Calamity Kate. I’m not done with you.” And then he hops off the four-wheeler and fucks me against it real good, proving yet again that a cowboy knows how to ride.

And goddamn if I don’t enjoy every minute of it.