Chapter 3

Rem looked out the window of his father's— Shit, his office, and watched Liv work with a new mare in the paddock. He'd been home a month and the realities of what it meant to run a working ranch were just now sinking in. He would never have been able to make it through the day without Liv's guidance and he grinned as he thought about the irony of it all. His father had worked him and Jeb as hard as full-grown ranch hands when they'd been younger, pounding every bit of ranching wisdom he could spout into their heads. Liv, the tagalong, had been the only one to listen, to learn. She loved this ranch, their home.

He grinned as he remembered her lovely face this morning as she lay in his bed, her hair tousled around her on the pillow. He loved to watch her sleep.

He'd moved her into his room the day after he'd taken her virginity in the barn. Shaking his head, he still couldn't get over the fact that she'd never taken a lover. She was amazing and he fought back the ache in his chest that told him he didn't deserve her.

Gazing outside, he watched Liv slowly mount the horse. She'd spent days preparing to break it, getting it used to her and the saddle so she could ride the mare. He stood and walked to the window, forcing back his worry as the horse pranced nervously. He could see her patting the horse and speaking to it. She was a natural equestrian and sometimes he teased her about her ability to get along better with horses than people.

He shook himself for his anxiety and returned to the desk, trying to force himself to concentrate on the paperwork that had piled up since his father's death. While Liv was a born rancher, she clearly preferred the outdoors to working inside. He worked his way through the mountain of invoices and bills while trying to decipher his father's system of bookkeeping.

He glanced over to check on Liv's progress just as the horse reared up. She was managing to keep her seat, just barely, but that was all Rem saw as he ran through the house toward the stable. As he approached the fence, he could see Liv leading the horse back to its stall. She smiled when she saw him standing there.

"Taking a break?" she asked.

"I saw the horse rear up. Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Damn bee stung her. How's that for bad luck? Of all days. Going to try again tomorrow. She's completely spooked now."

"You didn't fall off?" he asked, aware that his tone was terse. His body was tense from the fear that she could have been hurt.

"Fall off?" she asked, her voice filled with fake affront. "Just who the fuck do you think you're talking to, cowboy?" She laughed as one of the ranch hands took the horse from her and she walked over to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "Worried about me?"

He forced himself to relax but as soon as he smelled her skin—a combination of soap, horse and sweat that was oddly arousing simply because it was so Liv—he felt a different part of his body tense up.

"Very worried about you," he said, grasping her hand and tugging her toward the house.

"Where are we going? We've still got a lot of work to do today."

He glanced over at the fence he'd promised to mend this afternoon and shrugged. "We'll get back to it eventually. There's the issue of your punishment to take care of first."

"Punishment?" she asked, and he detected the slight breathlessness that accompanied the single word. His Liv was a sucker for a good whipping. Always set her off quicker than firecrackers in July.

"I counted two curse words." His spankings had done little to deter her foul language. In fact, he was beginning to suspect she used the words more frequently just to force his hand.

"Damn," she muttered, breaking into a big grin when he stopped to scowl at her.

"That's not funny, Liv," he said as they walked into the house and up to their bedroom.

Their bedroom.

He loved the sound of that.

Leading her to the bed, he released her and placed his hands on his hips. "Get those jeans off, woman. I'm gonna have to start putting you in skirts and keeping you inside where you'll be safe and sound. Besides, I don't like bein' kept waiting so long when you've been naughty."

Liv merely shrugged at his threat and he had to fight to remain impassive as she shimmied the tight denim off. The woman could work her curves better than a damn stripper—and she knew it. His mouth went dry at the sight of her bare bottom.

She turned to face him, her gaze seductive, her smile sweet. She was a rare mixture of angel and minx and he struggled to figure out which part he loved most.

Loved…

What would she say if she knew how he felt? He'd sensed her hesitance whenever he spoke about a future together. Despite his insistence that she was his and he was here to stay, he could feel her doubts.

She frowned and he wondered what she'd seen in his face.

"Rem? You really were worried, weren't you?"

He walked forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "I just want you to be careful, Liv."

"I am careful," she assured him. "I've been riding horses since I was five. You know that."

"What I know seems to be losing the battle against what I'm feeling. I just need you to promise you'll always take care of yourself."

She kissed him lightly. "I promise," she whispered.

He pulled away slightly to look into her chocolate-colored eyes. They twinkled mischievously and he shook his head at how easily she could sway his moods, set his mind at ease.

"While you're handing out promises, I'll have the one about you not stepping foot in Stan's Bar again. You've managed to avoid offering that one several times," he said. The fact she wouldn't promise to avoid the dingy bar was becoming a bone of contention between them.

She shook her head. "I'm not promising that."

"Why not?" he asked irately.

"Because you and I both know that sooner or later, you're gonna piss me off. When that happens, I'm going to Stan's. Believe it or not, that place is the perfect cure for my anger."

Rem closed his eyes for patience, trying to decide if he really wanted to know the answer to his next question. "Please tell me every time you go there you don't start a major brawl."

She laughed delightedly and he fought back the growl growing in his chest. He'd heard her bragging about their fight to several of the ranch hands a couple days earlier.

"No," she said. "That was actually the first time things got so exciting."

Exciting? He fought to restrain his ire. She thought that fight was exciting. She could have been seriously hurt. The image of Butch swinging that pool cue flashed before his eyes.

"Dammit, Liv?—"

"Now don't get so worked up, Rem. I told you that was the first time that had ever happened. Usually I manage to work off some of my aggressions by kneeing some biker who comes on too strong. After they peel the guy up off the floor, Stan kicks him out and I feel better."

"Did my father know about this anger management routine of yours?" he asked, struggling with the image of his overprotective father allowing Liv to put herself at such risk.

"Dear God, no. He would've killed me." Liv shuddered at the thought and he had to fight back the laughter bubbling within him. She never failed to make him laugh.

"Promise you won't go back without me," he repeated.

"No," she said, her eyes taunting him. Oh yeah, she was itching for a punishment, but he wasn't going to accommodate her this time. At least, not in the way she wanted.

"Turn around," he said firmly. "Bend over the side of the bed."

She smiled as if he'd offered her diamonds and quickly complied. She was a jewel, a treasure. One he always intended to keep close and safe and he didn't care if it took him a lifetime to convince her of his love, his faithfulness. He was never letting her go again. Not without one hell of a fight.

He gently placed his hand on her bare bottom and she flinched slightly, clearly expecting him to spank her.

"I bought you a toy," he said.

"A toy?"

He reached over to the bedside table and pulled open the drawer. He'd slipped his purchases in there earlier this morning after she'd gone down to the barn. He had planned to introduce her to this tonight but, as always, he couldn't keep his hands off her for more than a few hours at a time.

In the past month, he'd merely teased her with the idea of anal sex, tempting her with light touches, driving in a single finger to get her used to the idea and the feeling of being possessed there. Now he was ready to move things to the next level.

"Spread your legs apart," he demanded. He opened a tube of lubrication and worked a generous amount into her ass with his finger. She tensed up for only a second as the cold gel hit her then, as always, her innate trust for him kicked in and she relaxed. He reveled in her faith in him. It was the one thing that had kept him going when things on the ranch began to overwhelm him. She believed in him. Always.

Once she'd accepted the first finger, he added a second and she hissed.

"How does that feel?" he asked as he worked the fingers into her firmly, scissoring them to stretch her tight muscles.

"It pinches…in a good way."

He grinned and removed his hand. She started to rise up and protest but he pushed her back down onto the bed. "Don't move. This will pinch even more…in a better way."

He slowly worked the butt plug into her. "Don't fight it. Relax and let it inside."

"What is it?" she whispered, trying to follow his directions.

"A butt plug. This is going to stretch you so it won't hurt when I claim your ass."

"It's too big," she said, and he chuckled.

"Spitfire, this is the small one. There are two more after this and none of them are as big as my cock."

She sighed and he was taken aback by the impression that, rather than upsetting her, she liked that thought. Once the plug was fully seated, he placed his hand back on her bottom.

"Are you riding any more today?" he asked.

"No. I'm going to help Bridget do a bit of harvesting in the garden. We're canning later this week."

"Good. I want you to leave this in all afternoon."

"Leave it in?" she asked. "I don't think?—"

"You will leave it in. Now," he said, bending over to lift her. "Stand up."

She rose and stood awkwardly, trying to adjust to the plug in her ass. "How am I supposed to hide the fact that this thing is stuck in there?" she asked, and he laughed.

"We'll practice. Walk to the closet and get me a necktie. Then come back here."

"Rem," she started to protest, but he turned her away from him, swatting her twice on the ass.

She hissed and shivered and he began to suspect she was more turned-on than he'd ever seen her. His woman was nothing if not adventurous.

She moved to the closet more gracefully than he would have imagined and returned to hand him the necktie. "Planning a mid-week trip to church to pray forgiveness for your sins?" she asked.

She was a feisty little thing.

"Actually, I was planning to rack up a few more sins. Lie down in the middle of the bed on your back."

She crawled onto the high mattress on her hands and knees, treating him to a bird's-eye view of her new toy, and he had to adjust his jeans as his hard-on strained against the tight material.

As she lay down, he walked to the foot of the bed. "Open your legs," he demanded and she quickly assumed the position she knew he desired. With her knees spread apart and level with her hips, she watched as he drank in the beauty of her body. "Show me," he whispered and she reached down to hold herself open to him.

"Play with your clit," he said. "Pinch it. Get it nice and hard for me."

She toyed with the swollen nub as he shed his jeans and shirt. Moving onto the bed, he climbed over her, caging her beneath him with his hands, his knees between her outstretched legs. Taking her hands away from her pussy, he used the necktie to secure her hands together.

"What are you doing?"

"I've got an idea of how you can work off some of your angry aggressions," he said, pulling her bound hands above her and securing them to the headboard.

"What do you mean?"

"The next time you get pissed off and try to run to Stan's, I'm going to stop you and drag you here. I'm going to tie you to this bed and we're going to channel some of that pent-up, furious energy of yours."

Her hips lifted at his threat, clearly trying to find his cock. "You'll have to catch me first," she taunted.

"Don't you worry about that, spitfire. I will always catch you."

Moving his hands down to her hips, he lifted her pussy until it was lined up with his cock. She gasped at the feeling of his shaft claiming her cunt inch by inch, the small channel made tighter by the plug in her ass.

"Do you like that?" he asked. "Do you like having both your tight holes filled up?"

"Yes," she hissed. "God, yes."

He moved at a painfully slow speed, anxious to make this good for her, not willing to hurt her even the slightest bit. When he was fully seated, he paused and leaned down to kiss her hungrily.

"Untie me," she said, breathlessly. "I have to touch you. Have to."

He reached up to loosen the tie, wanting her hands on him and well aware that, now that she'd sampled a taste of bondage, she'd be back for more. Her innocent curiosity and desire to try anything left him feeling as if sex were new for him as well.

She attempted to lift her hips against him, willing him to take her the way she liked, hard and fast. Liv was a wildcat—and she was all his. He pulled back and moved in slowly again, dragging it out, touching all her hot spots as he returned.

She cried out, dragging her fingernails along his back. He winced, aware that those claw marks would sting later, but he could see she was too out of her mind to realize what she was doing. On his third retreat and return, he moved faster, harder, and he felt the beginnings of her climax. Her legs tightened around his waist and as her orgasm claimed her, he held himself deep within her, letting her inner muscles caress his cock until he felt his balls draw up and he knew he had to fuck her or die. He gave himself up to the mindless bliss, thrusting in and out until she began to come again, this time taking him with her.

He bent down on his elbows, kissing her gently until she returned from the abyss. She smiled at him as he fell to the side, pulling her with him and careful to remain inside her, desperate for a few more connected moments.

She ran her hand along his face and kissed his cheek.

"Beats the hell out of Stan's," she whispered.