Chapter Four

One difference between a military barracks and a bunkhouse was the abundance of hot water. It sluiced over Colton’s head and neck to wash down his knotted spine.

His back wasn’t the only thing that was tense. His cock hadn’t gone down since the minute he put Meadow in the truck.

He slicked his hands over his skull. Christ. What the hell was he thinking, putting her over his knee that way, drawing up her skirt and spanking that ass of hers?

He couldn’t shake the vision of how her thick, round ass jiggled when he slapped it. Or her pale skin darkened in the shape of his palm by the time he was done.

With a groan, he twisted away from the shower spray, but nothing would erase the image of that wet patch on the crotch of her thong panties.

God, he wanted to rip those off her curvy body and play with her pussy. Edging her until she was in tears, begging to be allowed to come while promising him that she’d learned her lesson.

He wouldn’t give in, not until he knew for damn sure that she did learn that lesson.

Then he wanted her on her knees, showing him how sorry she was. Then, and only then, would he let her come.

And only around his cock.

He dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling and fighting the dark urges inside of him.

Forest would kill him if he knew the things Colton was thinking about his baby sister. Her father and probably a handful of ranch hands who’d become her protectors over the years, too.

Question was why Meadow required a protector at all. Most women were able to handle themselves by her age. But she was more vulnerable. Maybe her big blue eyes made her a target for her innocence.

Goddamn if Colton would be the next asshole to try to take advantage of her sweet sensuality.

He couldn’t lay a hand on her ever again. He wouldn’t. This was Forest’s little sister—he was supposed to be watching out for her, protecting her.

Not being the thing she needed protection from.

When she told him she was a virgin, that alone tested his control in the worst way. He wanted to tear her apart and help her discover the sounds he could pull from her sexy, inexperienced body.

He wanted to train her in the ways he liked it. Rough and raw.

And ruin her for any other man.

Again, he pivoted to face the spray. Hot water struck him in the face, but it did nothing to wash away this pounding desire he felt for her.

Forest had to know what a woman like Meadow would do to him. After years of fighting together, hunting terrorists through godforsaken conditions, Forest knew Colton better than anybody in the world.

And guys talked about things like women. Yes, he and Forest had touched on the darker acts that got Colton off. Forest had had his kinks too, though they weren’t as hardcore.

Colton had spent his entire life wanting that control, both in the bedroom and on the battlefield. It got him in a lot of trouble in his youth. The military tried to knock it out of him but failed.

No one—and he meant no one—could rein him in in the bedroom. His private life stayed private.

If he wanted to make a student of Meadow?

Fuck, he couldn’t go there.

Yet Forest had sent him here to help his father keep the ranch afloat. While leaning up against a building they were staking out, he and Forest talked for hours into the night.

Colton told him about his own family, how they hadn’t been able to control him the way they wanted and so they sent him away at an early age. That only succeeded in placing so much distance between them that they felt like strangers. These days, he didn’t speak to them at all.

Forest was close to his father and sisters. Ever since his mother’s death following a car accident on a slick mountain road, he realized the importance of family.

That led to more stories spilling out of his friend, about how hardened their father had become since losing his wife. All that strictness came down on Meadow, who was just a floundering teenager at the time.

Meadow was immature, stunted because of the tragedy. Forest confessed he worried about being killed in action and furthering her pain. At that moment, he’d turned to Colton and made him promise that if he died, he’d go to the ranch and watch over not only the legacy built by generations of Graceys, but his sister too.

Meadow.

She wasn’t immature anymore, at least not in the physical sense. Her banging body was all woman. Curves in all the right places and legs for miles.

He drowned in images of his palm on her ass. His fingers stretching over the ripe curve.

Fuck! He gripped his dick to stave off the desire coursing through him, but it did nothing. He gave it a jerk in his fist, fast and rough.

Then he released it and planted both hands on the wall, head bent.

Forest would never approve of him toying with Meadow. Hell, he’d told her to wait to give herself to somebody who loved her. That man was not Colton. He wasn’t even capable of love.

A hard pounding noise blasted through the bathroom.

He whirled toward the noise, mind already searching out the location of his weapons. He’d traveled here with a concealed carry and a knife. Both were stashed underneath his bunk but within reach if he needed them.

More pounding rattled the door, followed by a holler. “You’re using up all the hot water, asshole!”

That dickhead Webb. Always running his mouth. When it came to Colton, he had nothing good to say, and no number of weeks on the ranch would change his view of Colton.

Slowly, he switched off the shower. Placed a hand on the curtain and slid it to the side. When he reached for his towel, another explosion of pounding came. Outside the door, deeper in the bunkhouse, he heard laughter from the other guys. They thought it was funny when Webb harassed him.

It was far from funny to Colton.

When he wrapped himself in a towel, he whipped open the door. The ranch manger stood there, fist raised to knock again, his lips twisted in a sneer of amusement.

He liked causing people pain. Colton had known a few men like that before, and none of them were cocky for very long once Colton figured out how to break them down.

“What took you so long, asshole? Couldn’t get lucky down at the Badlands so you had to jerk off?” Webb’s question brought another round of raucous laughter.

Colton’s nostrils flared. Everything about this night had pissed him off. First, when he saw Meadow draped all over that black leather-covered chest of the biker in the bar and again when she defied him to the point where he took matters into his own hands.

His fingers curled into a fist, holding in the heat and prickle of the smacks he delivered to her ass and all the arousal it caused.

Colton cocked his arm and used that same hand to deck Webb. His fist connected with his eye.

His head jerked on his neck. Knees buckling, he hit the floor. Blood sprayed from his mouth when his head bounced.

Webb didn’t move.

Colton looked down at the man he’d just knocked out. Gracey would probably kick him off the ranch for that. Good—if he left, Meadow would be safe from him.

Without a care for the silence created by what he’d just done, he shut the door and returned to his shower.

This time he turned the hot water to ice cold. His cock still throbbed for Meadow. He refused to jack off while thinking of her, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do the exact thing Webb accused him of doing.

The guy had picked the wrong time to mess with him.

He took a quick shower after that and eventually his cock eased to half-mast. Once he dressed and walked out of the bathroom, Webb was gone, no longer crumpled on the floor.

He strolled into the main room of the bunkhouse. The open space had a seating area with a TV that was turned off. A card game was taking place between two men at the table.

Everyone stared at him as he moved to the fridge and grabbed a beer. As he stood there sipping, no one acknowledged him. They returned to their conversation.

“She had more than her usual tonight. Even her friend wasn’t sticking around to watch Meadow get drunk off her ass and go home with the worst guy in the bar.”

“She sure was asking for it, though. Did you see that skirt? And her tits spilling out of that top?”

Colton’s ears pricked up. He lifted his head and leveled the guy who was speaking in his stare.

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

His hard words silenced the room again, like a switch turned off.

Colton stared at each man in turn. “If her father gets wind of this, he’ll never let her leave again. So y’all keep your mouths shut. Understand?”

All eyes blinked at him.

Setting aside his beer, he took a step toward the table. “I asked if you understood.”

At last, the men nodded. He swung his gaze to include the guys seated on the couch. They nodded too.

“You’re never going to look at her or bring up this night again. If any of you do, you’ll be lucky if a job is all you’re out of.”

No one spoke.

Colton sauntered out of the room. When he faced his bunk, he bowed his head, struggling with the need to knock out every guy in the bunkhouse. They all wanted her, and their words clearly told him just how little they thought of her. Their protection wouldn’t go very far—if they ever got a chance to touch her, they would take it.

Colton would be there to stop each and every one of them.

That included himself. He would never lay a hand on her again.

* * * * *

The strains of country music blasted from Meadow’s alarm clock. The lyrics edged into her dream until her mind flipped awake.

Something about drowning your sorrows in a bottle.

How appropriate.

Without even opening her eyes, she snaked an arm out from under the covers and switched off the alarm.

While she hadn’t set out to drown her sorrows, she had drunk too much last night for other reasons. After all the alcohol she sucked down, her head would be spinning and her eyes sensitive to light. Regret came crashing in.

She cracked an eye. To her surprise, the sunlight beaming through her window didn’t stab her like a knife to the brain like it normally did when she made this mistake.

Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position, feeling out her body to see just how hungover she was.

Not bad. She could handle this. Apparently some higher power thought she’d been punished enough for what she did and she didn’t need to suffer on top of it.

She raked her fingers through her tangled hair. Everything about the previous night down at Badlands came flooding back to her.

Her friend Desiree cut out early, saying she had work in the morning. She told Meadow to text her when she got home, and after all that happened, she forgot.

She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and pulled up the messages. Sure enough, her friend had left her several texts asking if she was all right.

Thanks to Colton, she hadn’t gone home with that strange biker.

Meadow quickly thumbed a message to her friend, along with an apology for worrying her.

After Desiree responded, Meadow’s mind was eased that all was right between them.

Where she stood with a certain other person still raised a lot of questions.

Meadow set aside her phone and considered her actions of the previous night.

She’d messed up big time.

But had she? The ride home with Colton was also the hottest experience of her life. At the memory of his hand on her ass, her core pulsed. Not only had his spanking her been a huge turn-on, but having her flesh exposed to him ramped her up higher than any other encounter she’d ever experienced in her life.

Not to mention just how hard he’d been.

Whether that was all for her or because of some power trip from the spanking, she didn’t know.

She was going to find out, though.

After a quick shower, she took care to choose her favorite jeans that fit her like a second skin. She donned a red plaid shirt and knotted it at the waist so just a hint of midriff peeked out.

She wanted to catch the attention of the man who wouldn’t seem to leave her thoughts since the minute she picked him up at the airport…but she wasn’t going to press her luck with another miniskirt.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a banana and a cup of coffee for breakfast. When she hitched herself up on the counter stool, she winced.

Damn. He really had spanked her. That wasn’t a drunken figment of her imagination—the tenderness she felt back there was physical proof.

She hopped off the stool, but she could still feel every single millimeter of flesh Colton had touched. Her nerves tingled in a reminder of his hands on her.

She polished off the banana, and the caffeine helped wake her up the rest of the way. Now to go find the man whose touch she still felt on her body.

The man she’d admitted her most terrifying secret to, the one only Forest had known about.

The clouds from the night before had blown away on a warm summer breeze. Okay, so maybe her eyes were a little sensitive from drinking. She tugged her cowgirl hat lower to shield them from the brightness.

The ranch buzzed with the usual activity. One guy on an ATV was hauling feed to the cattle troughs. Dude was busy letting the horses out of their stalls so they could hit the pasture to graze.

She had plans for the day too, and only part of it included working with her mare. The other involved talking to Colton again. But getting his attention was another conundrum. So far, he’d been avoiding her every single time he spotted her.

Surely, this time he’d wander over to see what she was up to. When she trained with her prized mare, Jewel, she got everyone’s attention. The ranch hands often came to stand at the fence and watch. Webb stood by like a nervous father waiting to pick her up off the dirt in the event she fell.

With a bounce in her step, she walked into the barn. Jewel’s stall was located toward the back since her skittish mare liked peace and quiet more than some horses. Glancing around on the off chance Colton was hanging out there, she made her way to the horse.

Just as she reached the latch to open the stall door, she heard the scuff of a boot behind her.

Twisting, she cast a look over her shoulder.

Her hopes fell.

“Oh. Hi, Dude. I’ll get Jewel today. We’re going to have some fun, aren’t we, girl?” She stroked her knuckles down the black mare’s nose, over the white star marking the center.

“Sounds good, Miss Meadow. She could use some extra exercise.” Hesitation rang in his voice, as if he wanted to say more.

He wouldn’t quite meet her gaze either.

With a sinking stomach, she realized why. Her behavior last night. Dude was at the bar. He’d tried to get her away from the biker she’d been draped all over like wet on water.

Dropping her stare to the ground, Meadow took Jewel and led her out of the barn, into the training pen.

One of the other guys who’d been at the bar also avoided her gaze. A third saw her coming and took off in the other direction as if his legs couldn’t carry him away fast enough.

Great. She was the pariah of the Gracey Ranch. An embarrassment to even the rough men who worked here.

If they felt this way about her, what must Colton think?

Focusing solely on her task, she outfitted Jewel with tack and led her to the middle of the training ring. The long rectangle of space was the perfect size for jumps and even turning barrels, both of which Meadow had been working with her horse on.

She sometimes rode competitively, but since Forest’s death, she’d had no desire to compete and stuck close to home. Jewel, however, was pining for a good hard push of exercise, and she was determined to make one of them happy.

Soon, she was engrossed in her task. Being outdoors with the breeze stroking the hair off her shoulders and the sun warming her, she threw her energy into her horse.

The minute she settled in the saddle, though, she winced.

She felt that. Had Colton left bruises on her backside? He hadn’t spanked her all that hard. She’d only been shocked by the sound and sting of his hand on her flesh.

The memory stroked across her senses like a caress and dipped between her thighs, leaving her aching in other places.

She stole a glance at the fence. To her surprise, not a single ranch hand stood there watching her.

Maybe she’d acted more out of line than even those big tough guys could handle. She shoved her hair over her shoulder. Anyway, who cared what they thought? She had a horse to train.

She took Jewel through several jumps. Watching her own form took some focus, since she really did feel the effects of that spanking.

Being with her horse made her feel better than she had in weeks. Maybe even months.

The exercise had her warm. She felt the glow which started on the inside and spread outward through all her limbs. She drove Jewel toward a jump. The gallop made Meadow hold her breath in anticipation. Together they sailed over it in a perfect arc.

When her backside landed in the saddle a little too hard, she couldn’t stop her wince. “Good job, Jewel. You did so well!”

On her way past the fence, she caught sight of a man standing there watching her. A man who set himself apart like there was no other person on earth he wanted to spend time with. Who admitted freely that he was the person responsible for Forest’s death.

Still, she didn’t believe him. It was battle. Terrible things happened in battle.

If her father bought into his claim, Colton wouldn’t have lasted thirty seconds on the Gracey Ranch.

Her heart tripped at the sight of Colton—and then sped with annoyance when she saw the smirk on his face.

Damn him. He was enjoying her discomfort. The discomfort he had given her.

Why did that make her blood heat?

Should she walk over and talk to him? He’d probably just leave.

That left her with only one line of attack: She had to lure him closer. She already knew she turned him on. His impressive erection last night was proof.

There really was one way to get what she wanted…and she had every intention of making Colton Nox crawl to her.