Bound, Branded, & Brazen Page 11


“Mason, I—”

He slid his hand over her breasts, cupped one and lazily circled her throbbing nipple with his thumb. “How about we stop talking?”

Distracted by the sensations, she realized he was right—she should just shut up and enjoy being with him. She always overanalyzed the hell out of everything. Now wasn’t the time. Not when his c**k nudged her pussy, and she ached to feel him inside her.

She cupped the back of his head and drew him on top of her, absorbing the feel of his body against her. Sometimes she wondered what the hell she’d been thinking walking away from something that felt this good, especially when Mason slid his c**k inside her with a powerful thrust. She gasped, and he claimed her mouth with a demanding kiss.

And she felt a hundred times stupid for ever leaving this man. No wonder women from all over wanted him. She’d oh so conveniently allowed herself to forget what it was like to be made love to by Mason. He pushed inside her, then withdrew, swept his hands underneath her butt to lift her pelvis against his, grinding against her cl*tand causing explosions of sensation that made her cry out and forget that they weren’t in the house alone.

She lifted against him, wanting more of him inside her, more of him moving intimately against her, more of his mouth, his tongue licking against hers. His possession of her was relentless, demanding, sweeping her away until she had no thought left. She could only feel his c**k sliding in and out, thrusting hard, moving her back against the mattress as if he wanted to crawl inside her. That’s what she wanted, his ultimate possession of her, what she’d missed so damn much but refused to face. She raked her nails down his arms and he growled against her mouth, deepened his kiss at the same time he plunged deeper inside her.

Tears threatened, and she knew being close to him like this would open her emotions like never before. Being with Mason had always been more than sex.

It had been love and sex—a dangerous combination. With Mason, her heart wasn’t safe.

But oh the things he could do to her body. He moved his mouth from her lips to her neck, licking his way down her throat. She shivered and he groaned, lifted up and drove deep, and that was all it took for her to crumble. She let out a soft cry and shattered around his cock, rocking against him with wild abandon. He moved back to her mouth and kissed her, tightening against her as he came in several hard thrusts.

They stayed glued together like that for a long while. Valerie smoothed her hands over Mason’s sweat-soaked back, her legs locked around him like she never wanted to let him go.

But she would let him go. This had been a onetime thing, never to be repeated.

“I’m hungry,” he said against her neck.

She laughed. “What time is it anyway?”

“No clue. But I’ll bet we missed supper. Let’s go check the kitchen for leftovers.” He swung his legs over the bed and went into the bathroom for a minute, then came out and grabbed his jeans. She took a look at his leg as he got dressed. The wound wasn’t bleeding, so their sex session hadn’t affected his injury.

He zipped his jeans and grabbed his shirt. Valerie made no move to climb out of bed or get dressed.

“You coming?”

She drew her knees up to her chest. “I don’t think us being seen together is a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want people to know.”

He sat on the bed, slid his hand up her thigh. “Val. We’ve spent the past few hours up here in your room. I think folks will make the connection.”

She laid her head on her knees. “Damn.”

“Hey, maybe I’m not a movie star, but I’m hardly ugly enough to have to put a bag over my head when you f**k me.”

She laughed and raised her head to look at him. “That’s not at all what I meant. It’s just that people will assume we’re back together.”

“And we’re not.”

She knew it would come to this—she was going to hurt him again. “No, Mason, we’re not.”

“So you just want to meet me in dark corners and f**k me?”

She snorted. “Uh . . .”

His hand drifted up her thigh, and her body flushed with heat and desire.

“I think you worry way too much about what people think. But if you want to use me like a sex toy, then that’s just between us and nobody else’s business.”

That wasn’t at all the Mason she used to know. “So that’s what we’re down to? Just sex?”

He shrugged. “You’re the one setting the ground rules, darlin’. I like a good f**k just as well as anyone else. And we’re damn good in bed together.”

She blew out a breath. He was right about that. “And you’d be all right with that? With it just being about the sex?”

“If you are.”

Could she be? If Mason was, she supposed she could be, too. God knows there wasn’t enough sex in her life, and when she got back to Dallas there’d be no time for it. Why not enjoy it with a man she had such incredible chemistry with, while she had the chance? “You’re on.”

“Okay, then.” He stood, pulled off his shirt and unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he climbed onto the bed and pulled her on top of him.

“Getting started.”

“I thought you were hungry.”

He drew her body up so her nipple teased his bottom lip. He grinned up at her. “I am. We have two years of lost sex to catch up on. We can have food later.”

eight

according to jolene, mason’s injury was the big news around the neighboring ranches for the next several days. Though Valerie had no idea why it was such a big deal. Mason seemed to heal fast; in fact, the next day he had been back to work riding his horse and herding cattle, as if nothing had happened to him.

Truth be told, she probably had overreacted. So had Jolene, who admitted being freaked out by seeing the shock of crimson spreading from his jeans. But Valerie assured her sister she’d done the right thing by coming to get her. There was no way to know how bad Mason had been hurt, and like a lot of ranching men, Mason would have tried to brush her off no matter how bad the injury was.

They all thought they were impervious to serious injury.

And okay, he was fine. More than fine. Every spare moment he had, they spent together, alone, making out or making love. Valerie doubted they were fooling anyone—at least no one at the house. The curious and knowing glances they got from her sisters, Lila and the hands told her everyone was aware of what was going on between her and Mason, but no one had said a word. And as long as no one asked, she didn’t have to explain their relationship. Since there wasn’t a relationship. They were ha**g s*x as long as she was on the ranch. And when it was time to leave the ranch . . .

She didn’t want to think that far ahead. For now, it was fun. She’d finally given up feeling so tense around Mason and everyone else in the house, which she was certain made everyone happy as hell, since she realized what a total bitch she’d been since she arrived. Maybe getting laid had helped. She giggled, glad she was alone in the kitchen after having insisted to Lila that she was perfectly capable of putting the breakfast dishes away. Poor Lila did everything around here. Valerie had already talked to Jolene about bringing in someone to help Lila, though she suspected Lila would pitch a fit about it, claiming she could manage just fine without someone underfoot getting in her way. But Valerie had noticed that Lila didn’t bend as easily as she used to; her ankles were swollen, and she rubbed her back a lot. It was time for her to start taking it easy.

Valerie had just gotten the last of the dishes put away in the cupboard when she heard the front door. She hung up the dish towel and saw Brea swoop in, her cheeks pink from the strong spring wind.

“We’ve got company,” Brea said, pulling off her jacket and tossing it over one of the kitchen chairs.

“Really? Who?”

Valerie stepped around the corner and smiled at the older couple in the entryway. It was Bob and Margaret Stenner from one of the neighboring ranches. “Bob, Margaret, come on in.”

Bob nodded and took off his cowboy hat, but he wouldn’t step off the front door rug. “Don’t mean to bother you, Miss Valerie, but Margaret has been complaining about this pain in her neck for about a month now.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a doctor, Valerie,” Brea whispered over her shoulder.

“I know I’m a doctor,” Valerie snapped back in a hushed whisper, then turned and smiled at the couple. “Um, I’m sorry about your neck, Margaret. Have you been to see Doc Parmalee?”

“Doc Parmalee retired three years ago, Miss Valerie.”

“He did?” She scratched her nose. “I didn’t know that. Who’s the doctor in town now?”

“Isn’t one,” Margaret said.

“There isn’t? So who treats everyone?”

“No one.” Bob shook his head. “Gotta drive all the way into Tulsa now if we wanna see a doc.”

Valerie was stunned. “Really? That’s too far.”

Margaret nodded, then winced and reached her hand up to her neck.

“Let me take a look at that, Margaret. Brea, will you take Bob and Margaret into the kitchen while I get my medical bag?”

“Sure. Come on, you two. I’ll put some coffee on.”

“Sounds great,” Bob said. “Much obliged, Miss Brea.”

While Brea got Bob and Margaret settled, Valerie went upstairs and grabbed her medical bag, then hurried downstairs and met Mason in the entryway.

“Someone else stab themselves?” he asked, looking down at her bag.

“No. Bob and Margaret Stenner are here. Margaret has a sore neck.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding as he followed her into the kitchen. “Hey, Bob, Margaret.”

They all said hellos, and while Valerie washed her hands, Mason helped himself to the coffee Brea had made. Valerie realized that examining Margaret in the kitchen while everyone sat around sipping coffee and gaping at them just wasn’t going to work. She needed to undress Margaret to get a good look at her muscles.

“What’s wrong?” Margaret asked, concern lacing her voice after Valerie took a step back.

Valerie laid her hands back on Margaret’s shoulders “Nothing. You and I just need some privacy so I can conduct a thorough examination.”

“What about the old kitchen?” Brea suggested. “No one uses that anymore. It’s got plenty of room, plus a sink to wash up. And God knows Lila keeps every room clean in this place, so you don’t have to worry about whether it’s a sterile enough environment.”

“That’s a good idea.”

They relocated Margaret to the old kitchen. It was a little sparse, but after they dragged a couple chairs in, Valerie had plenty of light—and privacy—for what she needed to do.

“I can’t really tell for sure without X-rays, Margaret,” she said, after finishing her examination and pulling off her latex gloves. “But it feels to me like a muscle strain. It seems to be most tender back here.” She gently placed two fingers at the C-spine area of Margaret’s neck. “But I don’t think it’s spinal in any way.”

Margaret pursed her lips. “Bob’s snoring is driving me crazy, so I’ve spent a couple nights on the sofa.” She tilted her head back to look at Valerie. “It’s not the most comfortable piece of furniture. I bought it more for looks than comfort. That was a mistake.”

Valerie laughed, pulled up a chair in front of Margaret and sat down, then took out her prescription paid, grateful she’d gotten her medical license—and malpractice insurance—in Oklahoma as well as Texas. Not that she’d intended to let her family know that. But she wanted to be able to practice medicine in this state, just in case. “I’m going to write you a prescription for some muscle relaxers. They should help. And while you’re at the drugstore in town, get some earplugs. Those should help with Bob’s snoring.”

Margaret laughed and laid her hands over Valerie’s. “Thank you, dear. Your parents would be so proud of you. You make a fine doctor for our town.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

But Margaret had already taken the prescription and headed out the door.

“—staying.”

Valerie sighed, put away her stuff and closed her bag. Brea popped her head in the door.

“Might as well leave that bag open.”

Valerie frowned. “Why?”

“Better come look.”

She came out of the kitchen and rounded the corner, then rocked back on the heels of her tennis shoes.

There were half a dozen people in the main kitchen, all sipping coffee and visiting with Lila, who was grinning and offering up cinnamon rolls while happily chatting away as if she’d invited them all.

“Who are all these people?”

Brea’s lips lifted. “Your next patients. Word’s out that you’re the only doctor within a hundred miles, Val. Might as well hang a shingle on the front door.”

before he walked in, mason waited until leonard Russell ambled his way out of the old kitchen, tipping his hat to Mason as he did. Valerie was cleaning up medical instruments and washing up the counter. He shut the door behind him and turned the lock.

“Long day?”

She turned and offered up a tired smile. “You have no idea. I must have seen forty patients today.” She tossed the paper towels into the wastebasket and pulled up a chair, then collapsed into it.

He had two bottles of beer in his hand. He handed her one.

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