Chapter Five

“Did you like that?” Logan asked, after the intruders had finished and, chattering to each other, left the barn. It had been a little uncomfortable listening to the sounds of their passion, with his fingers deep inside Hanna. But only because he’d wanted something else up in there.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, at least.

She’d surprised him with her proposition.

He didn’t have his wallet with him.

And Logan had one hard-and-fast rule when it came to making love to women—even Hanna Stevens. No glove . . . sorry dude, no action.

But he’d enjoyed this. Hell yeah, he had.

Touching her. Tasting her. The sound of her panicked moans. The sight of her splayed before him, naked, with her wrists tangled in the reins.

Hell, it was nearly more than a man could take.

In all of his fantasies—and there had been a lot—he’d never imagined she would be this glorious.

Her lashes fluttered. She wiggled a little, releasing her wrists from the makeshift restraints. “I did like that.” She sat up and shyly kissed him. His cheek, just to the side of his mouth, as though she were too timid to take what she really wanted. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” he chortled. “We’re not done yet.”

“We’re not?” She bit back a smile.

“No, ma’am. My fee covers the whole weekend.”

“The wh-whole weekend?” He liked the way she blushed. Her gaze flicked over his chest and down, down to his groin where his passion was firmly outlined by too-tight jeans. Her blush rose.

“Yes, ma’am. We can continue this tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her brow rumpled. “Tonight is the Hunky Hoedown.”

“We can sneak away after dinner. Meet back here?”

He loved the way her expression tightened. Loved the light in her eyes and the way her lips parted as she thought things through. She nodded and a flare of anticipation burned him.

Because he was going to have Hanna Stevens. Finally. After all this time. After all this need. After all this ache.

He was going to plant himself inside her and take her to heaven.

And tonight? Come hell or high water, he was going to have a condom. Maybe six.

***

Cody, damn his hide, threw a wrench in the works. Apparently, he had other plans for Logan.

When Logan showed up for dinner—after a quick shower, which didn’t include a shave because she’d seemed to enjoy his scruff so much—his friend cornered him in the foyer of the big ranch house. The guests milled about the dining room to their left, laughter and music twining. The tantalizing scents of supper rose on the air.

“Where the hell have you been?” Cody asked on a growl.

“Working. In the barn.” Logan couldn’t hold back his grin. Cody didn’t need to know what he’d been working on. Or whom.

“Goddamn it, Logan.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re supposed to be mingling with the women.”

Logan didn’t understand Cody’s clipped tone. The situation hardly warranted that level of aggravation. “The bet was for a weekend working on the ranch.” He shrugged. “I was working.”

“The bet was a weekend working for me. You assumed I meant ranch work.”

“Naturally.” What man in his right mind would ever agree to a bet to wiggle his ass in a pair of Speedos?

“Well, balin’ hay wasn’t what I had in mind. I need you to join the games tonight.”

Logan frowned. He had other games in mind for tonight. He intended to sneak Hanna back to the barn at the first opportunity. “You know I hate games.”

Cody gored him with a dark glower. “You like poker well enough.”

His gut roiled. “I had three jacks.”

“You lost.” Cody slapped him on the shoulder and affected a sympathetic look. It was not terribly convincing. “Sorry, bro. You’re in it for the weekend. The full Monty.”

Logan winced. “I am not doing the full Monty.” No way. No how. A bet was a bet, but he was not stripping for a room full of drooling women. Even if one of them was Hanna.

Cody chuckled. “No nudity required. Just play along.”

Annoyance riffled Logan’s gut. “What do you need me for, anyway? You have plenty of . . . them.” He waved at the herd of strippers, oiling up on the stage.

“I needed a twelfth man,” Cody grumbled. “And besides, you owe me.”

Logan snorted. “I’m beginning to suspect I was bamboozled.”

“Suck it up, bro. And relax. You might just enjoy yourself.” He glanced around, a quick skim of the hall, and leaned closer. “I saw you with her on the hayride.”

Logan’s heart stuttered. Heat sluiced through his bowels. “Who?”

“You know damn well who. Did you talk to her?”

His fingers curled into a fist and he shoved his hand in his pocket. There was no call to flatten Cody’s nose, just because his eyes lit up as he spoke of her. He set his teeth. “We, ahem, spoke.”

Cody’s grin was evil. “Excellent. Still pretty as hell, isn’t she?”

Logan growled in response. She was pretty as hell. Prettier than she’d ever been in high school. Of course, in high school, he’d never been able to gaze down at her features, fixed as they were, in rapture.

“Excellent. It’s a start, I suppose. Well. Have fun tonight,” Cody said, as he handed Logan a purple bandanna. “And wear this.”

“What the hell is this for?” Logan asked as he followed Cody into the dining hall. And why purple?”

Cody grinned and winked. “You’ll see.”

The first thing he saw when he entered the room was Hanna. His gaze stalled on her. His heart set up a manic tattoo. She’d changed her blouse but still wore jeans. Her one concession to the “party” atmosphere was a pair of strappy heels. Her hair caught the light of the hurricane lamps set on the long low tables; she glowed.

God, she was beautiful. All the other women paled in comparison; in fact, he barely noticed them.

When her eye caught his, she stiffened. Her lips parted. Their gazes tangled across the room; a bolt of lightning scored him to the core. He was still hard for her, still aching for her, but this was something more. He’d had a peek at her true self, the Hanna beneath the mask she always presented to the world. And it intrigued him.

Her smile was tiny, but an unmistakable invitation.

As was her wink.

He started for her. How could he not? It was as though an invisible thread connected them, drawing him closer. As he approached, a slender blonde with enormous breasts sidled up to her, hooked arms, and whispered something into her ear.

Logan’s pace slowed as he recognized the blonde. He remembered her from high school. Though she’d been three years behind him, he couldn’t help but remember her. Tibby was Zack Pucey’s sister and a holy terror. Their father had owned the whole town and between them, the siblings had made everyone’s lives a living hell.

No surprise, then, in the shift in Hanna’s demeanor at Tibby’s approach. She went from relaxed and playful to hard and cold in a second. As Tibby drew her toward an empty spot at the table in front, Hanna threw a glance over her shoulder at him. He was certain it was a rescue me look.

Naturally, he shifted his trajectory and headed for that table instead.

Just as he pulled out a chair and took a seat across the table from her, just as their eyes met once again and a shiver sizzled through him, a screech howled through the room followed by Cody’s low tones. “Testing. Testing.” Logan winced as the microphone sent off another ear-splitting howl of feedback. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears and groaned. Cody tapped the mic, glared at his brother Cade—who adjusted the volume—and tried again.

“Okay, ladies,” Cody said. “Welcome to the Double Stud Ranch. Our first activity of the evening is an icebreaker.” He waggled a brow. “You ladies want to break the ice, don’t you?”

Very unladylike hoots and hollers rose.

“Okay. Cade is coming around with a bag. Reach in and draw out a disk. And . . . try to keep your hands to yourselves, ladies. Cade is not on the menu tonight.”

Logan’s gut lurched. Shit. The games had already begun. He glared at his friend, who responded with a smirk.

With something akin to horror, he watched as each of the twelve ladies pulled a disk from the bag, each one a different color. He wasn’t sure if the horror stemmed from the fact that someone out there was going to draw a purple disk, or the sight of Cade’s ordeal.

These ladies were not very well behaved. They did not follow orders. More than one of them made a grab for Cade’s ass. Or worse, his junk. Judging from Cody’s laughter, he wasn’t very sympathetic to his brother’s plight.

But it served Cade right. For helping.

“Does everyone have a disk?” Cody asked.

A chorus of “yeses” rocked the room.

Logan flicked a glance at Hanna’s disk. It was yellow. A swirl of trepidation ran through him. It solidified in his gut when Cody boomed, “Your partner for dinner is the lucky gentleman whose bandanna matches your disk.”

Damn. He’d wanted to sit next to her at dinner. Stroking her surreptitiously beneath the table, reminding her of what had passed between them . . . and what was yet to come.

His heart lurched as Tibby held up the purple disk with a spine-chilling screech. Great. She issued a boob-shaking sigh as her gaze landed on him across the table. She licked her lips. There was a hungry look in her eyes.

He stifled an urge to make a run for it.

“Okay, ladies,” Cody boomed. “Go find your man!”

Chaos erupted as women made a beeline for the preening cowpokes—all but Hanna, who remained in her seat.

Tibby rounded the table, slid into the seat at his side and batted her lashes at him. “Hello there, big boy,” she murmured.

Shit. He recognized that voice. He’d heard it before. In the barn. This afternoon. Warbling.

Logan tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”

“Oh my.” She leaned closer and his vision clouded. On account of her perfume being thick enough to blind a steer. “Polite. I like that in a man.” She stroked his upper arms, then raked his chest, nails sinking in. He felt trapped. Captured.

He whipped his head around to glare at Cody, who only grinned.

“Looks like you’re mine, honey,” she said. “All night long.”

He hadn’t intended to drink with dinner. But it occurred to him he might need a whiskey. Or six.

For the first time in his life, he thanked God he’d been unmemorable in high school. The last thing he wanted was Tibby Pucey knowing who he really was.

The meal was miserable—and not just because the chili was bland. His dining partner chattered through it all. Well, in between making not-so-subtle forays under the table. If she squeezed his thigh or grabbed his cock one more time, he thought he was gonna lose it. He fantasized about tying her up . . . but not in a good way. Just so he could eat in peace.

Her perfume annoyed him. Her laugh—a nasal titter—annoyed him. But what annoyed him the most was watching Hanna, across the thick-planed table, with some other dude.

He didn’t know the guy, but he wanted to bash his smarmy face in. When he draped his arm over the back of her chair and drew his fingers over her shoulder, Logan had to stifle the urge to break them off. When he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, Logan fantasized about grabbing him by that ridiculous ponytail and yanking him into next week.

That she looked as miserable as he, that she shot him woebegone glances didn’t help. Not one iota.

He stretched out his leg and felt around until he found a foot. Hopefully her foot. Indeed, she stiffened and pulled it away. Her gaze flicked up to meet his and he smiled. She relaxed a bit. Her lips quirked a tiny bit. And—holy God—her foot nudged his.

A wave of lust, unlike anything he’d ever known, scorched him.

Since high school—since he’d evolved from an awkward, unconfident teen into a man who knew what he wanted and took it—he’d been around the block. He’d had women. Seduced women. Pleasured women.

He might even have played footsie under the table a time or two.

But never, ever, had it affected him like this.

When her toe skated up beneath his jeans to toy with the top of his boots, and he realized she’d kicked off her shoes and her feet were bare, he almost came.

She took a sip of her sweet tea to hide her smile, but he knew what she was doing, the minx. She was teasing him.

It thrilled him to the core.

But when her tiny toe slipped from his pant leg and made its way up his calf, up his thigh, heading for holy ground, he nearly popped his lid. He nearly reached across the table and grabbed her. Nearly tossed her to the ground and covered her right there in the humming dining hall.

With everyone watching.

He restrained himself. But barely. He caught her foot in his hand. She wriggled a little to get free, but he did not allow it. And then, he drew his nails up and down her arch.

She spilled her tea.

He tugged her closer, with an unintended growl, and rubbed her against his cock, letting her feel his need.

“Hmm.” Tibby edged closer. Logan’s eyes crossed as her perfume surrounded him in a cloud. Her long talons raked his chest, making their way down to his lap and he, perforce, released Hanna’s delectable foot. Probably not a good idea to let Tibby find it in his lap, but damn, he hated letting it go. “I love a surly man,” Tibby whispered into his ear. “The strong, silent type.” She bit his earlobe and he just about shot out of his chair.

He caught Hanna’s gaze; she smirked.

Damn woman. She’d pay for that. “Later,” he mouthed. And her eyes widened. Her smile broadened.

His cock surged.

Yeah. She’d pay for that too. Because just then, Tibby found him. Her breath gushed over his cheek as she warbled a moan. “Ooh, Logan,” she murmured. “How much?”

He stilled. “What?”

“How much. For the night?”

That was it.

He couldn’t take it. Not anymore.

He pushed back his chair and mumbled a strangled, “’Scuse me, ma’am,” and escaped.

He hid in the bathroom until Cody came to find him.

“What are you doing in here, Logan?” he asked, though the smile on his lips made it plain, he knew.

“Goddamn it, Cody. These women are barracudas.”

Cody shoved his fingers into his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Don’t I know it. My bread and butter.”

“When I said I would work this party, the offer didn’t include being manhandled.”

His friend, the bastard, threw his head back and barked a laugh. “Never heard you complaining about that before.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Yeah. It is.” Cody clapped him on the back. “You should have folded that hand.”

He should have. But he’d had three jacks. Thought he had a winner.

He should have folded. Cody had held four aces.

“Now, go on. Get back in there. Your date awaits.”

Logan glared at his friend. But he wasn’t a welsher. He threw back his shoulders and sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and headed back out. To Tibby and her wandering hands. As soon as he could swing it, he was taking Hanna back to the barn.

He couldn’t wait to get her naked. To run his hands all over her body. She liked being tied up? Oh, he’d tie her up. And tease her, torment her. Make her writhe. Make her his. Fulfill every single fantasy he’d had about her since high school—

He had to quit thinking about it.

It made him uncomfortable.

A chance to make love to Hanna Stevens, a chance to finally win her, something that had always been beyond his wildest dreams, had just fallen, literally, in his lap.

As Logan took his seat, Cody grabbed the mic again. Damn, he liked that mic. “Evenin’, ladies! I hope you enjoyed your down-home dinner.”

The food hadn’t been terrible. But it hadn’t been great. Still, the ladies cheered.

They cheered for everything, this lot.

Logan tried not to snort. Their “down-home dinner” had been dry tri tip and mashed potatoes, with cornbread and an arugula salad. Oh, and the “chili.” He could forgive everything but the chili. There was something wrong with a Texas ranch serving substandard chili. It was an unforgivable sin in Texas. He’d have to have a chat with Cody about that.

“And now, on to the entertainment for the evening. First, the fellas are going to put on a show and then . . .” The velociraptors slavered. “And then we’re gonna have an auction. A man auction.”

Cody’s gaze drifted over to him and Logan’s heart stuttered. Shit. The bastard was going to make him pay but good.

“But before we begin the auction, I think the lady of the evening, our bachelorette—the woman about to sink herself into a life of marital servitude, I mean marital bliss—should come on up here for some sexy, steamy lap dances. Honey, why don’t you come on up here and take the hot seat.”

To his horror, Hanna stood.