BIG SKY Read online

  BIG SKY

  ___________________________

  By

  Dani Wyatt

  Copyright © 2019

  by Dani Wyatt

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,

  events and incidents are either the products

  of the author’s imagination

  or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  is purely coincidental.

  www.daniwyatt.com

  Cover Credit PopKitty

  Editing Nicci Haydon

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  BIG SKY

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  The One

  OTHER TITLES BY DANI WYATT

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  ONE

  Garrett

  I’M JEALOUS.

  Of a fucking saddle.

  I watch across the corral as she throws her leg over a chestnut gelding named Rooster, getting ready for the day’s ride past Stillwater Creek. The plan is for us to push the small herd of cattle that have wandered onto my neighbor’s property back into my property.

  Each breath has become a challenge because of her. The sun is warm as her brown hair blows in the breeze, eyes the color of the meadow behind her glow with something that calls my name. Her boots are new, her jeans the perfect amount of tight and there’s no ring on her finger, thank Christ.

  She’s city, but with a natural beauty that rivals that of the wildflowers that surround the Oak in the distance. Her stature may be small, but her presence is unlike anything I’ve felt before. She’s got curves in all the right places, and she’s turned my dick into a greedy warrior fighting for the right to claim what is his.

  The day she stepped out of the van from the airport onto the ranch, I knew I was never going to be the same. My mama would be proud. I had a vision—me in my Sunday best, her in a white dress.

  Only, right on the heels of that vision came the others, and if mama—God rest her soul—knew the things I want to do to the sweet, smart, city beauty... well, not sure she would be so proud. See, I was raised proper.

  A good man.

  A sturdy man.

  A man of faith.

  Mary Beth Lassiter has changed me. She’s a brush above twenty years old to my thirty-six. Her soft pale flesh, the swell of her world-class ass, have stirred things in me I’d long ago thought to be dead.

  I’d do dark things to her.

  I’d do evil things to possess her.

  I’d kill to protect her.

  She’s been here two days, and I’m on the verge of madness. Sleep eludes me. Food holds no pleasure.

  Today, my frail control will be tested to the fucking limit when I lead her out on our ride—just the two of us.

  Laying in my bed alone at night, I ease my shame, using the panties she dropped scurrying back to her cabin from the shower to jerk off until my hand is numb and my balls empty.

  I dream she’s touching herself, delicate fingers pressing down between the sheet and into her softness, sinking into drenched folds as she thinks of me. In forty-eight hours, she’s become my obsession and no amount of prayer, or jerking off, has eased my need.

  Last night I fought my own monster and lost. Leaving the main house, I followed the dirt trail to a gathering of pines just on the hill above her cabin. The panties she’d dropped the day before were clutched in my hand, thick with my own release coating the soft fabric. Just knowing they’ve touched her there, I could never let them go, not until I have her for myself.

  All of her.

  The memory of watching her floods through me. There was a low light burning on the nightstand as I peered through her window. The sheer curtain casting a white haze around her. Warm evening temperatures hovering high enough to keep her on top of the covers, wearing just a white tank top and cotton panties. Just like the ones I had held to my face. The scrap of fabric holding her scent now mixed with my own.

  I’d worked my erection until I spent twice watching her, imaging her flavor, growling into the night, watching her roll onto her stomach, her hand pressed under her body.

  She’s turned me into a monster. A man that would do anything to keep her here. To prevent her from returning to a life before me. I even think of tying her up. Binding her here until she understands she can never leave.

  There’s a gnawing want. I’m unfulfilled. There’s a new wildness in me I cannot calm. The animal inside has been unleashed, and I cannot quench the thirst she’s awoken, no matter how hard I try.

  How hard I pray.

  My lungs feel wound with rope, allowing only shallow, half-hearted breaths where the fresh air used to be a balm to my soul. Now, it’s her that will soothe me, only her. But our lives are a thousand miles apart and worlds away from each other.

  Thoughts of taking her to the meadow, of easing her down off her mount and laying on top of her, consume me. My hard body blanketing her under the warm sunlight, kissing her until she arches into me and asks for more.

  So much more.

  I shake the memories of last night away, my cock already painfully full. I focus, fixed now in the present moment, watching her as her eyes flit towards me. She sits mounted on the horse, waiting.

  She knows it will be just us today. I wonder: does she ache inside, the way that I ache for her?

  It’s not just her beauty that’s drawn me. It’s something deeper. She’s smart. I see it in her, but I’ve also listened as Harriet and Buck have talked about the current group occupying our cabins as a respite from their hectic lives.

  There’s strength in her, and softness too. I see it, they see it. Hell, I’ve watched her on Rooster as well, and I’m damned sure he sees it.

  He’s as much a mind reader as he is a horse. He can sense an unkind spirit. But he’s taken to Mary Beth like I’ve never seen. In fact, I think I may have to fight him for her if push comes to shove.

  Harriet and Buck gossip about the new arrivals every week. They see their files, sure, but they look them up too. Investment bankers, junior partners in law firms, real estate developers, we get them all. I never used to care, either. Used to ignore all that. But now I listen to everything, in case there is some crumb of information about her.

  So far, I know she’s already graduated from Columbia University in New York City. A journalism major who dreams of living abroad and exploring the world, then sharing it through her writing.

  I’ve never left Montana, and until she came around, I never considered that to be odd. Or a
problem. Now, thinking she could leave, it is a problem. A big fucking problem. Because there’s no way I’ll let her go.

  I shift in my saddle, trying to find comfort for my ever-present erection, but relief evades me. I can barely concentrate on the ranch and the work I used to love. My mind is consumed with thoughts of her naked, mouth open, legs spread.

  So vulgar.

  So obscene.

  So beautiful and perfect, and only for me.

  She looks over at me now, green eyes piercing my heart and driving blood into my girth. My balls are heavy, weighed down with what I want to give her.

  Today will be the closest I’ve ever come to her. When I prayed over my breakfast this morning, I asked God to please give me this one thing. Fulfill the dreams I didn’t know I had until I saw her.

  In the six months we’ve had the dude ranch up and running, I’ve seen my share of city beauties pass through here, looking for fresh air and freedom under the big sky.

  None of them ever did to me what Mary Beth has done. She’s ruined me, and I’ve never even touched her. Barely spoken to her besides a ‘Hello’ and a tip of my hat. I don’t usually work with the guests directly. I run the cattle and let Buck and Harriet take care of the tourist ranch duties. Up until two days ago, that sat just fine with me.

  I don’t find I have much to talk about with anyone, unless they know cattle and ranching. The tourist deal was my sister Harriet’s idea. She decided she wanted to introduce people to our way of life at five thousand dollars a week, so we built a few cabins, and I have to hand it to her, it’s taken off.

  I didn’t care much either way. We have the space, and Harriet said she’d take care of everything. I just needed to pay the bills and be polite. Paying the bills isn’t much of a problem. I don’t spend much, Harriet gets a nice salary out of it, and so does Buck, my partner.

  Although we keep cattle around, I don’t sell them off like I used to. For the most part, they’re pets. More like props for the ranch.

  I have three oil wells on the back end of the property that have been producing enough oil to keep us sitting pretty for a couple of generations.

  So that’s been my lot in life. Until fate took a hand.

  You see, Mary Beth has something called a travel blog, and she also writes features for websites and travel magazines. Harriet insisted I take her out on the ride today myself, to give her an ‘authentic cowboy experience’ for her article.

  Shit, I’ve got so many authentic cowboy experiences I want to give her she won’t walk right for a month.

  TWO

  Mary Beth

  THE LAST PLACE I THOUGHT I would start feeling like a boy crazy teenager is out here.

  Except, what is making me crazy is not a boy. Nope. One hundred percent man.

  When I got the invitation to review the Big Sky Dude Ranch for my blog—and write a companion article in Travel USA magazine—I figured five days in the fresh air and mountains would be fun. Besides, I’m hoping my articles and my blog will continue to catch the attention of Conde Nast or International Life, and they’ll bring me on as a regular consultant.

  Travel the world and get paid for it.

  Every dream I’ve ever had revolves around traveling. Figuring out how to bring that joy to others through my writing is living my very best life, and I’m not even twenty-one.

  Only, having fun in the mountains of Montana doesn’t begin to explain what’s happened to me since I got out of the van from the airport and looked smack dab into the blue eyes of a cowboy who has stolen part of my heart with barely a word.

  For two days I’ve barely been able to eat. Forget about sleep.

  In the evening, I walk into the tack room of the barn and run my hands along the smooth leather of his saddle, thinking that his manhood is just on the other side of his jeans when he sits here. I lean in and breathe in the scent of leather, swearing to myself there’s a bit more. That there’s the scent of him.

  I see him looking at me now. I’m on Rooster, the horse I’ve been riding since I arrived, waiting.

  Because today it’s going to be just the two of us. The thought has me pressing my soft parts down onto the hard saddle looking for relief, but it eludes me—as it has since I arrived.

  In my cabin at night, all I can think of is the cowboy that’s barely tipped his hat my way since I got here.

  But his eyes... God, those blue eyes seem to be on me whenever I glance his way. I’m like a little girl at night, kissing my pillow and playing scenarios in my mind where he finds his way to me. Somehow, his lips working down my neck....

  I want to feel his weight on me. To feel the brush of him the first time he centers himself between my legs and eases forward.

  Gah. I’m going to soak through my panties and jeans before we even leave the corral.

  My heart is in my throat as I see him mount his spotted gray gelding and click in his teeth as he eases his mount my way.

  My attraction to him has surprised me. Relationships and the whole happily ever after with someone has never been my thing. I think about my father and my life growing up. He was professional, controlled, everything planned out, living comfortably in the suburbs where nothing exciting ever happens, but you have a sense that you’ve arrived. That you’re safe.

  Then, there’s my mom. She’s great, but she’s June Cleaver and Martha Stewart on Prozac. She made a great wife to my dad and a fantastic mom to my twin brother and me, just always questioned my own wanderlust. I always wanted to go.

  Be places. Have experiences. Not things.

  And going to the mall and having my nails done every week was my definition of prison. I have ants in my pants, she would always say—a need to move around and explore.

  My best friend is my twin brother Benjamin, and he’s my greatest fan and encourager. Somehow, he had the same need to go out into the world as I did, but things didn’t work that way for him, so he lives vicariously through me.

  He’s a single dad to Malory, who is three now. Benjamin had a girlfriend toward the end of high school, and they had an oops. She didn’t want the baby, threatened to have an abortion, but Benjamin talked her into keeping it, and then she signed away her rights. He always dreamed of being in the Coast Guard, had even qualified to go to basic training, but his life took a turn.

  They say twins have a special bond and with us, it’s true. I can sense when he needs me to call, and he’s the same with me, but more than that we both build each other up every chance we get.

  He’s an amazing dad, but I see how he looks at me when I talk about my travels, my freedom, and his life is not what he had planned. He was the high-school quarterback. He was hot then, and he’s hot now, even as his sister I know it’s true.

  He’s always been a magnet for girls and women, reminding me of a dark-haired Chris Hemsworth type, but to his credit he doesn’t partake in the buffet of pussy that is thrown his way. We look alike in our hair and eyes, but size wise he’s a linebacker to my pixie.

  I skim just under five foot three, and he’s just over six feet four.

  As Garrett now approaches, one hand goes to the top of his black hat and he tips it upward, nodding at me, forcing my stomach into a tailspin. When I look at him, I see a man unlike any I’ve encountered. He’s wild, yet at the same time calm and quiet. There is a lack of polish and civility about him, and it only adds to the pull I feel like a tether in my gut.

  I’m drawn into his orbit, but the truth is I have no idea what I would do with a man like him.

  He stops his horse just a foot away from mine.

  “Ma’am.” He licks his lips.

  Perfect. Kissable lips.

  Oh, and he’s older. Just the right kind of older.

  He’s carved from fresh air and hard work. His face is balanced but real, with full lips and a set jaw that tells me he could take a punch if needed and throw more back if called for.

  “Sir,” I reply with playfulness in my voice, nodding as his horse snorts.

/>   “I’ve watched you ride. This isn’t your first time in a saddle.” His sapphire eyes trace up and down, and I feel wherever they touch me.

  “No, I rode growing up. Mostly flat seat and hunter jumper. Never did much Western. Even did some horse shows, had my own horse for a few years before I left for college. Thought about riding again once I graduated, but I’ve been so busy with work.”

  “Uh huh,” he answers, but I’m not sure if he’s bored or disgusted. Or maybe I don’t speak cowboy. “You look a little young to be done with college.”

  “I’m an overachiever.” I can’t help the smile that sticks to my lips, making my cheeks hurt. He must think I’m a simpleton, the way I’m half star-struck. “Never took summers off. Graduated faster than most.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.” He clears his throat and settles his hands on the horn of his saddle, and I think he might say more, but instead, the talk turns to business. “So, today we’re going to ride out up over the creek and herd about ten head of cattle that have wandered onto a neighboring property. You follow my lead, and we’ll be fine. You have any questions, you just ask, okay? Keeping you safe is the most important thing.”

  I nod, feeling the sincerity in his words, and a cloak of safety calms me. “I’m ready. I want to have the whole Big Sky experience so I can let my readers know exactly what to expect for their money.”

  Garrett murmurs and nods, then tips his head and eases his horse forward. I follow, taking in the width of his shoulders and the way his body shifts and moves with each step of the horse. The hint of hair peeking out under his hat is dark, with barely a hint of silver. I’ve never craved a man’s attention, but I admit the last few days I’ve spent a little more time looking in the mirror.

  Checking my hair. Fussing with my tits in my bra, making sure they are at their perkiest. Wearing my tightest jeans. Debating the whole panties or no panties dilemma.

  My common sense is evaporating, and I seem to be at a loss as to how to stop it.

  He shifts in his saddle, tipping his head toward the meadow behind the corral. “We’ll ride out about a mile, to the west pasture. Hopefully, find the cattle still up there, then it will be about two hours to the north. We should be back in plenty of time for dinner. You eat a good lunch? Don’t want you getting hungry.”