Bound, Branded, & Brazen

  valerie busied herself going over the ranch paper-work that Jolene had insisted she and Brea catch up on. Tedious, mile-high financial and inventory reports, but Jolene said they both needed to understand the ranch’s net worth and current inventory before they got together to make any decisions about the future ownership.

  Since he had no heirs, Uncle Ronald’s portion of the ranch ownership automatically went to all three sisters, as agreed upon when Ronald and Valerie’s father had generated joint ownership in the Bar M. So Uncle Ronald’s will would have no bearing on the ownership of the ranch.

  “And I thought technical reports were hideously boring,” Brea said, pushing the chair back in the office and yawning.

  Valerie nodded. “I’m sure Jo is doing this to punish us for leaving the ranch in her hands.”

  “In her more than capable hands, from the looks of these reports. The growth in the Bar M the past ten years has been nothing short of phenomenal. She and Mason have done an amazing job.”

  Yes, they had. Valerie remembered Mason talking about plans for the ranch. She’d only half paid attention. The Bar M had been her parents’ ranch. After they died, she wasn’t much interested in what happened to it. Now she saw what a mistake that thinking had been. Her parents would be sad to know she hadn’t taken an active part in making the Bar M grow, in nourishing their dream.

  But Jolene had. And so had Mason. They’d kept her parents’ homestead flourishing and profitable. “Jo and Mason have done wonders for the ranch.”

  Brea sniffed. “I don’t know about you, Val, but I don’t feel like we deserve any part of it. I’ve been so busy with my life in Tulsa, I didn’t pay much attention to what they were doing out here. And to look over these reports now . . . wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow, indeed. While you and I selfishly went about our lives, Jolene and Mason have been busting their asses making something out of the Bar M. Mom and Dad would have been proud.”

  “Of them.”

  “Yes. Of them.” Valerie was ashamed of her fear and her cowardice. And yet she still couldn’t see herself staying here, being a rancher’s wife. Being Mason’s wife. Throwing her heart full-fledged into a relationship, knowing that at any moment it could be taken away. Loving someone was dangerous.

  Just then Jolene burst through the door of the office, her hands, shirt and jeans covered in blood. “Valerie. Come now.”

  Valerie flew out of the chair. “Are you hurt?” she asked as she caught up to Jolene, grabbed her arm and swung her around.

  “It’s not me. Come on.”

  “Hang on a second.” Valerie dashed upstairs to grab her medical bag, slipped into her boots and practically flew down the stairs. Jolene was waiting impatiently at the door. Without a word, they ran out the door.

  “What happened?

  “Knife slipped. Got him in the leg.”

  “Who?” Valerie asked as they jumped into the Jeep.

  “Mason.”

  Valerie went cold; her heart stuttered and her throat went dry. “Mason? How bad?”

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot of blood. He wanted to hop on his horse and come back here. But there’s blood pouring everywhere and I wouldn’t let him.”

  Jolene drove fast, zooming down the road, then off-road as she sailed into the pasture. Valerie held on to the door handle as the Jeep went flying over hard rock and bumps in the field. She saw Mason’s horse tethered along the fence line. He was on the ground, still conscious, thankfully. Before Jolene came to a complete stop, Valerie flew out of the Jeep; she dug her heels in and pushed off into a dead run, her heart pounding.

  “Jesus, Valerie, you’re white as a sheet,” Mason said.

  “Shut up.” She dropped her bag beside her, slipped on latex gloves and grabbed a scissors.

  “Hey. Don’t cut those.”

  “Shut up,” she said again, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Right now Mason was a patient. That’s all she’d allow herself to think about.

  “Jo, go get some of the hands. We’re going to need help getting him into the Jeep when we’re done here.”

  “Got it.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Shut up, Mason.”

  “You’re a mean doctor.”

  She ignored that, too, and cut away his jeans from the bottom up and over his knee, then gently pulled away the material. The blood was fresh, the gash on the top of his thigh deep. Dear God, it was so close to his femoral artery. A few more inches . . .

  “It’s not bad,” he said. “I was just a dumbass and stabbed myself when the clippers slipped.”

  “It is bad. You need stitches. You’re damn lucky you didn’t nick an artery or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “Just throw a few stitches into me so I can get back to work.”

  She jerked her gaze up to his face. “Are you out of your mind? You’re done for the day.”

  His jaw set, he leveled a mutinous glare in her direction. “I’m not a pussy. It’s hardly a scratch.”

  Jolene came back with Walker and Gage.

  “Trying to commit suicide, I heard,” Walker said with a smirk as he came up to them.

  “Fuck you,” Mason said. “You trying to take over my job?”

  “You dyin’ today?” Walker asked.

  “Not likely.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to wait until you pull some other dumbass move.”

  Gage squatted down next to Valerie. “She scissored right through your Wranglers.”

  “I know.”

  “That’s a hangin’ offense, cutting through a man’s Wranglers,” Gage said with a smirk on his face.

  Valerie finished pressure dressing the wound, taped it, then glared up at all three grinning men. “I can’t believe all you’re worried about is his jeans.”

  “Hey, work clothes are hard to break in,” Gage said, standing. He held out a hand for Mason. “Think you can get up or do you need Walker and me to carry you?”

  “Assholes.” He jerked on Gage’s hand and stood.

  “Hey!” Valerie pivoted to shoot daggers of venom at Gage. “Take it easy. I don’t want that bandage falling off and him bleeding again. I just got it stopped. Now, let’s see if you morons can gently get him into the Jeep.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Walker said, sliding around Mason’s side. “Come on, honey. Let me carry you.”

  “You try picking me up and you can pick up your last paycheck when we get back to the house.”

  Valerie rolled her eyes as Gage and Walker snickered the entire way to the Jeep. Men so didn’t take injuries seriously.

  “Take him upstairs to my room,” she instructed when they reached the house.

  “My place is fine,” Mason said.

  “I have more medical supplies in my room,” she replied.

  Gage and Walker took him upstairs. She ran ahead of them and placed a sheet over her bed.

  “Lay him down there. And get his pants off while I get my supplies ready.”

  She went into the bathroom and grabbed some towels, ran a washcloth under hot water. When she came out, Mason was alone. On her bed. Wearing just a sleeveless T-shirt and his boxers.

  “Where did everyone go?”

  “The guys snickered about you ordering me stripped down and what kind of wicked intentions you might have for me, so they said they’d give us privacy. And Jolene and Brea said they didn’t care to see me in my underwear. So I guess it’s just you and your patient, Doc.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She eased the bandage off, cleaned the wound area with hot water, then antiseptic. Mason always had been tough and didn’t even wince when she poured the antiseptic in the wound, or when she numbed it with the needle. He just watched her with that unfathomable gaze of his that never failed to make a room heat up a good ten degrees or so.

  She pulled off her jacket and long-sleeved shirt, leaving her in only her tank top, and went to work.

  mason was enjoying the view. sure,
he’d done something stupid today, but at least the end result was turning out pretty enjoyable.

  “Hey, I didn’t know a striptease went with the stitching.”

  She lifted her head, her bewitching gaze colliding with his. “It’s hot in here and I need freedom of movement.”

  “Whatever you say, Doc.”

  Her lips compressed and he knew she was trying desperately for control.

  He liked her out of control, like she’d been last night. Not thinking, just reacting. The softness of her skin under his hand was enough to make him hard. Which given his current predicament was probably not a good idea. He counted cattle instead of thinking about Valerie’s half naked body next to him.

  “Am I hurting you?” She paused, needle in hand.

  Yeah, she made his balls ache. “No. Not feeling a thing.”

  “This cut is deep. You’re lucky it’s farther down your thigh and not near your femoral artery. Out there, middle of nowhere, stabbing yourself like that. You could have bled to death in minutes if you’d hit the artery. There’s not a hospital near enough we could have gotten you to.”

  He was pretty sure she was talking to herself and not to him, so he let her ramble. Her hands were sure as she sewed him up. Part of her hair had escaped her ponytail and fell against her cheek. It didn’t seem to bother her any as she concentrated on her task. He wanted to reach out and sift strands of her hair through his fingers. He already knew the sensation—it felt like silk. He remembered how it used to slide across his thighs when her mouth had been busy on his dick.

  She jerked up, stared at his now erect cock lying rigid against his boxer briefs. Her gaze slid to his face.

  “Do you mind? I’m trying to work here.”

  He grinned. “I have to do something to pass the time.”

  She lifted a brow. “Mason.”

  He shrugged. “Can’t help if it I was thinking about the last time you were . . . down there.”

  Her face turned a pretty shade of pink. “Goddammit, I’m sewing you up here. This isn’t foreplay.”

  “Sorry. I’ll think about horse shit instead.”

  Her lips quirked. “Uh . . . thanks.”

  She bandaged his leg after she finished sewing, then filled a syringe. “Roll on your side.”

  He did. She drew his boxers down over his hip to give him a shot.

  “You just want to look at my ass.”

  “I’m giving you a shot of antibiotic to ward off infection.”

  She wasn’t going to give. Even a little.

  “Want a Band- Aid?”

  “I’m not twelve, Valerie.” He rolled back over, then started to sit up.

  “Oh no. You stay right there.” She planted her palm on his chest and applied pressure. As if she could keep him down if he really wanted up. To placate her, he stayed there.

  “I’m stitched, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a good doctor, Valerie. Thanks. But I’m going to be fine.”

  There was something about her expression that was . . . off. He didn’t know what it was.

  “Just . . . hang there for a minute, okay?”

  She didn’t wait for his answer, just pivoted and went into the bathroom. Mason heard the water running, so he slid off the bed and walked in there.

  She was leaning over the sink, the water running. She gripped the sides of the sink so hard her knuckles were white. So was her face. Their gazes met in the mirror.

  There were tears in her eyes. He stepped into the bathroom, stopped just behind her.

  She didn’t turn around. “I told you to stay on the bed.”

  He wound his arms around her. “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  He’d seen the tears in her eyes, felt the tension in her body. “Valerie. What’s wrong?”

  She shuddered, sighed, then leaned against him. “This is what’s wrong, Mason. What’s always been wrong.”

  “You caring about me. Worrying about me.”

  “Yes.”

  She was shaking.

  “Honey, it was just a little cut.”

  She shook her head. “All that blood. It wasn’t just a little cut.” He smiled over her shoulder. “If Jolene hadn’t made such a big deal out of it, I’d have stopped the bleeding, slapped a bandage on it and gone back to work.”

  She shuddered. “It was a deep gash. It needed stitches.” “Maybe it did. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten cut up doing chores around here. That’s ranch life. We get hurt out here all the time.”

  She lifted her gaze to the mirror, met his. “And sometimes you die.”

  “Your parents didn’t die on the ranch.”

  “I know. But people do die out here.”

  “People die in the city, too. Every damn day. Odds are higher there than here.”

  “I don’t . . .”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.” She tried to pry his fingers loose. This time he wasn’t going to let go. He turned her around, cupped her face in his hands.

  “You can’t run from how you feel, Val. Sometime you’re going to have to face it.”

  “I can’t.”

  Her pain hurt him. He wished he could take it out of her and make it go away. But he couldn’t. Instead, he drew her lips to his, brushed his mouth across hers. Her breath whispered across his with a quivering sigh.

  “Mason.”

  “Quit fighting what we both want.” What they both needed. He walked backward, leading her into the bedroom.

  “Your leg . . .”

  “Is fine. Not bleeding. You stitched it up good.” He held on to her, leading her to the bed, sitting down with her, then lying down with her. On their bed, where they belonged together.

  “You shooting for a pity fuck?” she asked as he rolled her to face him.

  He laughed. “Is it working?”

  Her lips lifted, color coming back to her face now. “Maybe. I’m worried about your leg.”

  “Then I guess you can keep close watch over it, Doc.” He grabbed her butt and rocked her against the long, hard part of him that ached to be inside her.

  She gasped, pressed her hands against his chest. “You rip those stitches out with . . . strenuous activity, I’m not sewing you back up.”

  “Duly noted.” He slid his hand against her neck and laid his mouth on hers, let her know how much he wanted her, wanted this. Her pulse kicked up and he supposed that was his answer—she did want to be here with him, no matter how much she protested the opposite. The warmth of her breath released against him in a sigh and her body relaxed. Whatever war she fought internally, he supposed she’d finally given up the fight.

  That was all the encouragement he needed. He let his hand slide from her neck to her collarbone to her breast. She didn’t have a bra on, and her nipple peaked under her flimsy cotton shirt. Damn, it felt good to touch her, to feel the softness of her body against him again. He smoothed his palm over the hard bud to torture it a little more, and she arched into his hand, filling it with the softness of her breast. He jerked the material to the side and planted his mouth over her nipple, encouraged by the sounds she made as he sucked and licked. He’d missed those sounds of pleasure, had always loved listening to her in the dark when she writhed against him. The one thing Valerie could never deny was the sexual chemistry between them. There might be a million things wrong with their marriage, but sex hadn’t been one of them. Here they could connect, and all problems were tossed. It was just the two of them, naked, him inside her, rocking her until she screamed.

  He wanted that now, wanted to give her a release he knew she needed. He let go of her nipple, lifted her shirt off, and she rolled onto her back, gifting him with that serene, knowing smile that said she knew there was no going back now. She raised her arms over her head and let him remove the rest of her clothes.

  Naked, she still took his breath away. He slipped off his briefs and shirt, then rolled back onto the bed, cli
mbing between her legs to press a kiss to her inner thigh. He slipped his hands under her butt to lift her, then laid his mouth against her sex, taking in the sound of her delighted sigh.

  God she was hot, her taste tart and sexy, and it made his cock so hard he could go off right there, spilling all over the sheets like a first-timer. Valerie did that to him, always did, made him hot and hard and ready in seconds. He never could resist the taste and sweet smell of her. She’d been a fire in his blood since he first became a man. She’d always been the only woman he craved like a drug he couldn’t do without.

  She lifted against him, her eager movements urging him to lick around her clit, flick the hard nub until she let out a soft moan, her juices melting all over his tongue and chin.

  He licked her pussy, slid his tongue inside and ate all she gave him. He could never get enough of Valerie, had always loved spending nights pleasuring her, listening to her moan, making her come. Her body responded to his touch, to his mouth, with wild abandon. Once she had given up thinking about all the reasons she shouldn’t . . . or wouldn’t . . . then yeah, she gave it all to him.

  He slid a finger inside her, and her walls grabbed onto him while he thrust. He licked her, sucked her clit, felt her tighten inside and out.

  Yeah, baby, give it to me.

  She arched, her body tensed, and she shuddered, cried out with her orgasm. He held on to her, licking her, taking her down easy. He waited for her body to stop shuddering, then reached onto the floor and into his jeans pocket for the condom he’d stuck in there—just in case. Now he was damn glad he’d thought about being prepared, even if he had presumed. The last thing he wanted was to be without, especially right now. His balls throbbed and he wanted inside Valerie so badly he was about to burst.

  She rolled onto her back and watched as he tore open the packet and applied the condom. “So you either carry those things on you all the time or you thought I was a sure thing.”

  He spread her knees apart and climbed between them. “I don’t carry them with me all the time. Just . . . recently.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Because . . .”

  “Because all I’ve done is think about fucking you since you showed up here.”