Page 61 of Branded

We work in silence, communicating with hand signals and minor positional adjustments. Lennox was right; she can do the work of three people. She reads the cattle’s movements before they happen, anticipates which ones will try to break off, and positions herself to block them before they can scatter.

I grew up on this ranch and did cattle work my entire childhood, but watching her work is like watching an artist designing a masterpiece from nothing. Every movement is precise, efficient, instinctive.

We find the last five head split into two groups: the three bulls near a fence line and two grazing alone in an open pasture. Getting them joined up takes patience and careful maneuvering, but Lennox manages it with quiet confidence.

Twenty-three head. All accounted for, all moving north toward our property line.

The sky is turning from the black of night to the early blue of morning when we reach the cut fence. Dawn is coming, which means we are running out of darkness to hide in. But the cattle know where they are now. I can see recognition in the way they move, the eagerness to get back to familiar ground.

“Push them through,” Lennox calls. “Once they’re across, they’ll head straight for the south pastures. That’s home.”

We drive them through the fence opening, and she’s right. The lead cow picks up her pace, the others following, and within minutes, they’re trotting across our land toward the pastures they know. I hop off Cisco and roughly tie each of the four wires together. It will hold until Pete can send someone out here in a few hours.

I look up at Lennox, her face flushed with exertion and satisfaction, her blonde braid coming loose, dirt on her cheek. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You did it,” I say as I climb back on my horse.

“We did it,” she insists. She is smiling, relaxed in the saddle, as she watches the animals move away from us. “Told you it would work.”

“You were right. About everything.” I urge Cisco to get closer to Duchess. “The timing, the approach, the cattle behavior. You were completely right.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I know what I’m doing.”

“I can see that.” I reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re incredible, Lennox. Absolutely incredible.”

The elation shifts as she holds my gaze, a hunger burning where pride just was, as she leans into my touch. She doesn’t pull away. “Sebastian.” Her voice breathy, her eyes locked on me.

“Come on. Let’s get the horses put away before someone realizes we’re gone. Then I have plans for you.”

We ride back to the barn as the sun starts to turn the horizon pink. The ranch is starting to wake up, lights coming on in the bunkhouse, early risers heading toward the main barn.

But we manage to make it to the smaller barn near our house without being seen. I dismount and start unsaddling Cisco, my hands working automatically while my mind races.

The adrenaline from the night is catching up to me. The fear, the success, the image of Lennox working cattle in darkness like she was born to it. My body thrums with energy that needs her.

I look up from unsaddling Cisco to find her watching me, and I see my own adrenaline reflected in her eyes. The flush in her cheeks isn’t just from exertion any more. Her pupils are dilated, her breathing shallow, and I can see her pulse racing at the base of her throat.

“Lennox,” I say, my voice husky. She bites the corner of her lip and lets her eyes fall to the floor before looking back up to me, her eyes on fire and a smile forming on her face.

I cross to her in three strides, grab her face in both hands and kiss her hard enough to bruise her beautiful, pouty lips. She kisses back with equal hunger, her arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer, demanding more.

“I want you,” she gasps when I move to her neck, teeth scraping skin. “Now.”

I pull her jeans open, buttons popping loose. “Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

I spin her around, pressing her face-first against the barn wall. Her breathing hitches as I yank her jeans and panties down to her ankles in one swift motion.

“Spread your legs,” I growl. “Show me that pussy.”

She obeys, widening her stance as much as she can with her jeans around her ankles, arching herself toward me, and I see how wet she already is.

“Fuck, look at you.” I run two fingers through her wetness, making her gasp. “Soaking. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? About me fucking you. All night while we were working. Because that’s all I was thinking about. Watching you ride, wishing we were at home in bed.”

“Yes, God, Sebastian, please,” she moans as I grind my hips against her ass.

“Please, what?” I push two fingers inside her, no gentleness, just raw need. She’s tight and hot and so fucking wet. “Tell me what you want.”

“You, inside me, now.” Her breathing is ragged, and I can’t stop the grin crossing my face. This is what I’ve wanted, her to beg for me. We’ve only been married a couple of weeks, and she’s at my mercy.