Chapter Five

Sloane angrily kicked off her boots, stalked to the living area and flopped down on a chair, her mind spinning from what just happened in the barn.

She always knew Shaw could be ruthless on the ice…but ruthless with people's emotions? She never knew him to pull out a dagger and cut into someone just to make himself feel better.

Yet he'd done just that.

She stared into space, seeing nothing until Dylan stepped into her line of vision. He perched on the edge of the sofa across from her.

Raking her fingers through her hair, she let out a puff of air. "I should leave."

He shook his head. "No. You shouldn't."

"I don't belong here. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You came to the ranch to find help for an issue you don't want to live with for the rest of your life. I don't know the whole story, but I have a pretty good idea what happened to you."

Her gaze cut to his. For a pulsing heartbeat, they locked gazes until it became too much for her and she looked away.

"I left my child so I could have sex and get away from my problems. What kind of mom does that?"

"A good one. One who realizes that she can't be her best without taking care of herself first." He pulled off his cowboy hat and set it on the coffee table created from a rustic barrel between them.

His hair was mussed, giving him the boyish appearance that captivated her. But the strain around his eyes revealed a greater depth to this man.

"Dylan, you're a good man."

Taken aback, he jerked. "I'm not fishing for compliments here, love. I'm just keeping it real."

"Your job is to keep me here."

Again, he wagged his head in denial. "Forget about the job. I care about what you're feeling right now, Sloane. Can't you see that?" His brown eyes blazed with truth she couldn't ignore.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to point fingers or shift blame. This is on me—"

"And Shaw." His tone hardened. The line of his jaw bulged as he firmed it. "He was out of line. He's been out of line since you landed."

A gasp ripped up her throat. "What do you mean?"

"He fought for you on that stage. I didn't know why at the time. It's his week off, and I just figured you're beautiful and he wanted a chance with you."

Stunned, she gaped at him, her mouth hanging open with nothing to say in response.

He spread his hands. "Look. I know he retired from hockey and ended up at the ranch. That was over a year ago. Which means you've been a single mom, with no break, for a year."

She gulped at the knot of emotion lodged inside her throat.

"You deserve time for yourself. It means you'll return home to your daughter happy and rejuvenated. If you choose to stay with me, I'll do everything in my power to keep a smile on your face, sweetheart."

Dylan really was the best person to help her right now. The support he offered with his words and actions back at the barn wasn't a service she'd paid for.

"You really care about your job, don't you?"

"Sure. But I care about people more. I got into this line of work thinking it would be a good time. Easy. Soon I learned how difficult it is, and what an honor it is to be trusted with a woman's troubles." His jaw shifted. His throat worked on a hard swallow. "Sloane, I don't know what happened between you and Shaw, but if you stay, I'll make sure he leaves you alone."

A roughened laugh bubbled up. "How do you plan to do that? Shaw's determination is unmatched."

"Oh, it's matched—by me. I'll handle him."

The anger in his eyes was undercut by something else, something she didn't know how to interpret.

"The ranch is beautiful. It feels like I'm in another world. After diapers and doctor visits and sleepless nights having an infant, and now a toddler, I need a break."

"Like I told you, you deserve one."

She held his stare for a long moment. "He made me feel like a terrible mom."

"It was a dick thing to say to you."

While she enjoyed having Dylan at her back and his righteous anger burning for her cause, a deep inner part of her felt the need to defend her ex.

"Shaw supports his daughter. He isn't a total deadbeat."

"Glad to hear it." His clenched fist resting on his knee relaxed a bit.

They fell silent, each deep in their own thoughts. When she looked up, she caught Dylan staring at her with such a sharp expression of longing that her insides somersaulted.

He opened his arms, and she shot from the chair and into them. He gathered her close.

God, the feel of his strong arms were comforting in a brand-new way she never expected when she booked her stay on The Boot Knockers Ranch. She thought she'd be wined, dined and sixty-nined. But talking out her troubles and getting validation that she was doing the right thing never came onto her radar.

He tucked her head under his jaw and leaned back on the sofa. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent. Spicy, masculine, fresh. It stirred her body to life.

Twisting her face, she found his neck with her lips. He issued a low groan when she flicked her tongue over his flesh, tasting him.

"Love…"

The endearment sank into her brain. Of course, it was only a word. Something people just said. She'd heard it enough on movie sets and photoshoots, from men and women alike. But now the word spread a warmth through Sloane that trickled into her belly.

She rocked in his lap, dragging another low groan from him.

"I feel better. A lot better. You made me feel better, Dylan." She slipped off his lap and landed on her knees between his splayed thighs.

"Christ, Sloane."

Need coiled inside her. Reaching for his belt, she worked it open, then popped the button of his jeans and slowly slid the zipper down. "I want to return the favor."

* * * * *

Desire flared hot and bright inside Dylan as Sloane's sweet lips wrapped around his cock and she engulfed him in her smoldering hot mouth.

"Fffuck!" Lifting his hips, he shoved his jeans and boxers down to free himself.

She sucked him deep into the back of her throat. Tangling his fingers in her silky hair, he watched her. He'd witnessed a hell of a lot of erotic things around this place, but this by far stole the prize.

His muscles clenched as she drew off his length inch by inch, and ran her tongue around the tip.

"You're so fucking hot," he ground out.

She hummed and her smile lit up her eyes as she sucked him in again. His length stiffened. His balls throbbed.

The occasional client asked to pleasure him, but he wasn't usually in this position with a beautiful woman on her knees sucking his cock.

And damn, could the woman give head. Each sucking pull curled his toes. Hell, it curled his hair.

All of a sudden, he pictured her sucking Shaw this way.

"Fuck!" A pulse hit his system. His cock stretched deeper into her hot mouth, and she moaned around his length.

Confusion stole through his mind. He was pissed at Shaw. Wanted to show him just how to treat a lady—with his fists if necessary. But the idea that he'd been inside Sloane's mouth, her pussy, had him biting back a roar of release.

"Stop. Love. I'm going to…"

Clearly she had no plan to listen to him and doubled her efforts. All he could do was go along for the ride.

Cradling her face, he brushed his thumbs over the corners of her lips as she took him again and again until his hips rocked up of their own accord.

When she took him into the back of her throat, he pressed his palm lightly over the back of her head, guiding her a fraction deeper.

"Ahh!" He came with a hard pulse. Cum shot into her mouth. She swallowed fast, which only primed him more. His eyes rolled back in his head on a mind-blowing orgasm.

When he regained his wits, he peeled his eyelids open to look down at her. Her eyes shone with a level of excitement that brought another growl to his lips.

Hooking his hands under her arms, he yanked her up his body and kissed her.

The flavor of his own release on her tongue only made it hotter.

She drew back. "Let me rinse my mouth—"

He cut her off with a deep pass of his tongue. She melted, and by the time he came up for air, he had her on her back on the sofa.

"Thank you for that." His statement made her eyes widen.

"For sucking your cock?"

He dipped his head in a nod. "For sucking my cock. But taking is only half the pleasure to be had, as it seems you already know. So…" He lowered his lips to her throat. "Your turn."

He stripped off every scrap of her clothes. Then, stretching out between her legs, he threw her ankles over his shoulders and buried his tongue in her.

"Dylan!" Her already soaking pussy flooded with juices, which he swirled his tongue through, gathering every drop.

"It feels so…" She broke off on a cry, fingers biting into his shoulders.

He dragged his tongue up and down her folds, tunneling until he found her soaked opening. Thrusting inside, he tongue-fucked her, lashing her inner walls and then pulling out to latch on to her hard clit.

She screamed his name. Rocking into his face, she took what she needed, and he was more than willing to give it.

What they started in the barn had been cut short. Her body didn't forget where they left off, though. She quivered. Every cry grew rougher as he worked even harder to give her all the pleasure she deserved.

Using his thumbs, he parted her pussy wider and applied more pressure to her clit.

"Dy…lan!" Her hips hovered off the sofa and she went utterly still for a solid heartbeat.

Then bucked like crazy.

Lucky for her, he was damn good at taming things that bucked, and he rode it out, licking her clit through her strong orgasm.

When he felt her body drop, he plunged his tongue deep into her channel. A moan of bliss left him when her cum coated his taste buds. He could stay here for days, just pleasuring her with his mouth in an attempt to make up for the damage Shaw had done today and before.

He couldn't erase Shaw's words from her memory…but he planned to find his fellow Boot Knocker and bring him here to the bungalow. Sloane deserved an apology.

* * * * *

No amount of physical labor could vent the anger Shaw felt. The rage wasn't directed at Sloane. It wasn't even aimed at Dylan.

He was furious with himself.

He gripped the shovel handle hard enough to snap it. Each thrust he made into the rocky earth wasn't nearly punishing enough. The point of the shovel struck a rock. He located the edge of the stone and used all of his strength to pry it out of the ground.

A huge stone came free with a pop. He glared at it as if the minerals had formed thousands of years ago just to piss him off.

Then he dropped the shovel and hefted the rock into his hands. He held the weight for a moment, gauging how big it was. He'd held his daughter a few times before walking out of her life forever. The stone was heavier than Marigold.

Christ, he was such a dick.

Chest burning, he hurled the stone to the ground and grabbed the shovel again.

"What'd that rock ever do to you?" The deep drawl made every muscle in Shaw's body freeze.

Ramming the shovel into the earth, he pivoted his head to look at Dylan.

Poison burned on his tongue. "Where's your client?"

"Having a nice massage." He squared up to Shaw. "We need to talk."

Shaw's instinct was to rush away and ignore what was coming at him. What he deserved.

But he knew from his hockey days to have the guts to hold his ground. "I knew we would have this talk sooner or later."

Dylan opened his mouth. At that moment, the sound of giggling carried on the breeze. They both glanced toward the path in time to see Beatie with a redhead wearing wire-framed glasses strolling toward them.

Shaw twitched his head to the side, indicating Dylan needed to follow him.

Wordlessly, they crossed the field to the barn.

"You never did say what you were digging." Dylan entered after Shaw.

"You never asked. New fence going in."

"That's what the post hole digger's for."

Shaw didn't respond.

Dylan cocked a brow. "You were beating up your body on purpose."

His chest tightened. Still, he didn't speak.

Hooking his thumb in the front pocket of his jeans, Dylan eyed him. "Look, what you said to Sloane was wrong."

"I know," he said before his throat could close. "I fucked up. I didn't know how I'd feel when I saw her face-to-face. But I sure as hell hoped I wouldn't find her naked in your arms, you son of a bitch."

His brow hitched higher. "I'm her Boot Knocker. She's supposed to be naked in my arms. And in my bed. In the hot tub. Up against the—"

"Enough!" When he whirled and sank his fist into the nearest wall, the thunder of the blow rang clear to the rafters. Something clattered to the floor.

Both of them looked down to see the purple twelve-inch dildo at their feet.

At the same time, they grunted.

"Fuckin' Hunter." Shaw glanced away from the toy that they occasionally found in the strangest places around the ranch. More than one Boot Knocker could attest to the fact that Hunter was the culprit, often playing with a woman and then abandoning the toy for his own cock or fingers.

Dylan's shoulders were set. His jaw, too. "She could turn you in for harassment, you know."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"You'd be kicked off the ranch."

Did he want that? Hell, he didn't want to be here anymore. Now that he'd set eyes on his ex again…any other woman assigned to him wouldn't even begin to strike interest in him. Nobody could measure up to Sloane.

"Whatever their reasons, the powers that be around here chose me as Sloane's Boot Knocker." Dylan pitched his voice lower as if some of the fight had gone out of him.

"I can't live with that." The words tripped off his tongue before he could bite them back.

Lowering his head, Dylan sent him a long, appraising look. "Are you trying to get in the middle? Because I can't let that happen, Shaw. You and I have had some fun together, and I enjoyed it. But it doesn't make you exempt from my fists if you try to get in the middle of us again."

"Does that mean you want her now?" He took a hasty step toward Dylan.

He didn't back down. "You had her. If you want her so badly, explain how you could let her go."

They glared at each other, their anger almost electric inside the barn. With the sparks coming off both of them, it was a damn good thing that it was grounded against lightning.

Shaw growled low in his throat. "That's the burning question, now isn't it? Get the hell away from me, Dylan. I need to be alone."

Dylan heaved a sigh. "Fine. Just remember your role on this ranch."

He did.

He also remembered the role he should be playing…with Sloane.

With his daughter.