Making Her Mine Read online

  Making Her Mine

  Kash Lamar

  Contents

  Untitled

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Making Her Mine Book 2, 3 & 4 available: Also as a Box Set

  Prologue to Book 2

  Making Her Mine Book 2 sample

  Follow the Author

  Copyright © 2018 & 2021 by Kash Lamar

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Making Her mine Book 2: From Lust to Love

  Follow the Author

  Chapter 1

  Race Dorrance

  He’s close— real close. When did he fall in behind me? My carelessness to miss it. Now I’m intrigued by his sounds and smells.

  Each step he takes throws out the bold tap made only by Cuban heeled boots. It screams old style cowboy. The kind of cowboy you don’t see around anymore. The stride length gives me the impression of a tall man 6 feet or more. Smells of fresh cut alfalfa, wet leather and sweat are dominate. A hint of Stetson after shave finishes it off… all dead giveaways.

  He’s the real deal all right. The only kind of man who can light me up against my will. It’s near impossible to resist the magnate power of this kind of cowboy. Sometimes I can’t but mostly, I don’t want to resist. There’s always a steep price to pay for the charge of excitement they give. That I know firsthand.

  Countless women will believe they hit the jackpot if they tie up with this kind of smooth talker. Believe me, I get it. Cowboys are sexy. They’re hot blooded to the boiling point and damn good dancers.

  On the other hand, cowgirls know by experience one basic fact.

  A cowboy can deal out misery beyond anything you’ve ever known.

  They don’t plan to. They don’t even realize they do it. It’s more about the way life goes on a ranch— the values taught and lived by. The love of bucking bulls, fast roping horses, rodeo and wild terrain is in their DNA. Beer drinking with their buddies goes with it and they put high priory on these things. Sometimes higher than their woman back at the ranch. They work hard to become the man they are and have no plans to change. Not for any reason. Not for anybody. If you don’t grasp it, their lifestyle will grind you to dust.

  Approach with extreme caution.

  Why is he right on top of me? His eyes have devoured every curve of my ass a dozen times. I can feel the burn of his eyes. It’d be a complete lie to say it doesn’t turn me on. My damp panties say it does.

  Here’s the problem. It’s a love-hate situation.

  I love it, at the same time, I hate it.

  My bad girl rushes to the surface when eyes are on me with enough intensity to penetrate my skin—the way he’s doing right now. Every woman enjoys the look of a man who’s dry fucking you strong enough you’re engulfed by his lust. Don’t they? Okay. Maybe not all women, but I sure as hell do.

  Yet…

  On this day it’s a sucker punch to the flood gate of memories I fight to keep pushed back.

  And why in hell didn’t I see him? It’s my fault I didn’t which irritates me. Chalk it up to fatigue from the long drive on black ice roads and a desperate need for strong coffee.

  He’s closer, if that’s even possible, as I continue toward the entrance of the historic Denver Cattleman’s Hotel.

  “That’s a big truck to wheel around,” he says in a gravel voice full of masculine appeal.

  “Think so?” The smart ass in my tone is obvious. I don’t care if he hears it but don’t let the quiver of excitement show.

  “I didn’t think anybody could fit a truck that big into that spot.”

  “No options— the lots are full.” I stay on the move toward the hotel entrance. I love the sound of his deep voice. Wouldn’t it be outrages to hear him mumbling in my ear? It would.

  “I’d say it’s the truck you use for pulling,” he quizzes.

  “Good guess.”

  “Yes ma’am, no doubts it can handle a heavy load. Might I ask what’s your payload?”

  “Livestock. Cattle and horses.”

  If he doesn’t get his eyes off my ass and pay attention where he’s walking, he’ll trample me. I should be concerned since he’s somewhat forward. But fear of this man isn’t what’s on my mind. My fear is the flush of internal heat in my guts… heat of a woman who’s been alone for too many nights. This is not the time for me to get my attention side tracked. But it’s already happened.

  His after-shave scent is stronger now which tells me his steps are right in mine. If I turn around to look at him, I’m sure the full length of our bodies will collide. He’s too damn close. He could’ve passed me up with ease at any point. Why hasn’t he? This cowboy needs to go on his way.

  Curiosity is working on me. Now I wonder what’s actually on his mind. There’s no sense of violence but he’s been following me quite close for too long. I slide my fingers under my jacket and lift the hammer strap off… just in case.

  Come on girl— one look can’t hurt. If his looks match his vibe, I’ll be in deep trouble. I don’t need troubles right now. Focus! I need to stay focused on the task at hand. And that is to get ahead of the ‘ole boys club’ in the meeting tomorrow.

  I take a small hesitation in my step and pivot around. As I knew would happen, he knocks me into a backward spiral. In a split second I’m in his arms with him crushing me into his body and thank god for it. Being sprawled out on the ground isn’t my best look. My body goes loose allowing him to pull me tight to his chest.

  A flow of warm breath teases my lips. If my head moves even a fraction, we’ll be in a full kiss. The moment stops, and I do nothing more than enjoy the feel of him against me. Why not grab hold and kiss him right this second? I want to. My hand moves up his chest and touches his square jawline covered by yesterday’s five o’clock shadow. Inquisitive steel gray eyes squint at me from under his well-used hat.

  “38?” he questions.

  “It is.”

  How can he miss the fine tremors in my body? He pulls back for a better look at me. No, it’s more than a look; it’s a detailed study of my face down my neck to my breast.

  It’s his silent interrogation.

  Chapter 2

  Jake Lancer

  Here I am in a parking lot holding this sex pot in my arms tight enough to press her tits into my chest! Unbelievable!

  The chances of running into a woman like her anywhere on a routine workday is nil at best. It’s not even a thought because it’s not going to happen. But it just fuckin’ happened.

  Could the timing be any worse? Doubtful. This business trip is a single night stay after a week of long days between the ranch and the office. I could sleep for a week easy. That’s how beat I am. But if I get the chance to lay this gal on my bed, I’m positive I could revive enough to give her what she needs and take what I want.

  I’m presenting new laws for Colorado water rights in the morning then jump a plane to Idaho by noon. It’s hardly enough time to say hello but I can’t pass up meeting this beauty no matter what the time frame is.

  Hell, no man expects to cross paths with this level of eye candy more than once every year or so, if that often. She’s first class for damn sure. Not even one of my buddies will believe me. They’ll say I’m exaggerating. Sure, maybe I have played it up before but not this time. She’s a full bore knock out.

  Her tits are still pressing into my chest and I tighten my arms around her to keep them there. I know she isn’t going to fall but I want to feel more of her body against me. Her belly is flat with perfect hips flaring out from the smallest waist I’ve ever held. She’s like a doll in my arms.

  My face is still close to hers. I tilt my head back even more to have a clearer visual. Damn. Her eyes are full of sparkle and a deep green I’ve never seen. Fuckin’ out of this world. Creamy smooth skin frames her plump red lips. Long untamed hair moves with the breeze. She can’t be real.

  She’s an exact vision of the fantasy woman I dreamed of from high school all through college and law school. I never dated one gal who came anywhere near what I wanted— I can’t recall even seeing a girl who was close. I gave up on the possibility of her existence other than in my late-night fantasies when my hand wrapped around my erect shaft.

  Judging by her quick wit and sassy attitude—she’d be a damn good piece of ass, that is, if she picks you. She has more confidence than she needs and feisty as hell. She’s the kind of woman who blows my cock up and gets me ready for a long night of hard core fuckin’. That sassy mouth of hers turns me on as much as her sweet firm ass I’ve been following. With an ass like that she’s got to have a perfect pussy.

  I already know she’s a ranch raised cowgirl. It’s a good thing in a lot of ways but, on the flip side, they can give you worries of the painful kind. A large amount of finesse is what’s needed for a ranch woman. A man can’t be too sweet, but they won’t tolerate too much roughness. Don’t even think about any straight-o
ut meanness …their daddy taught them how to shoot by the time they were five. They can burn you down in a heartbeat. Chances are high they carry on their body, even if you don’t see it. I didn’t see her .38, but I felt it when she was in my arms. She wears it in an underarm holster within easy reach. It’s a given the truck has an arsenal in it.

  I want to claim her wet lips right now while she’s in my arms, but I know better. Not the right move. She’d be pissed and any chance to hook up with her would be over. This woman is not your anything-goes-kind of gal. She’s not desperate and she calls the shots.

  She’s a no bullshit hard-ass cowgirl who does things her way.

  It shows in everything about her; the traditional western clothes, no excessive cleavage, a scant amount of glitz, and not over done with makeup. It’s a turn on to see natural beauty like this in a woman.

  If my instincts are right, she’s warm and romantic as a winter fire with an inferno of heat between her thighs. All of it hiding behind her protective shield of distance. I sense she likes the feel of my touch. She wasn’t trembling for no reason and it sure wasn’t fear. It’s doubtful this lady fears much of anything.

  She likes being in my arms— plain and simple.

  Chapter 3

  Race

  The energy from this man is intriguing, sexual in the most primal way. But also, a warmth of heart is present. He’s complex. His breath is heavier now as he entwines his fingers into the thickness of my wavy hair. Slow, with purpose, he pulls the curls up to his face and inhales. A faraway look crosses his face as if he’s lost in the moment.

  My fingers dig into his upper arm enough to feel the bulge of thick muscle under his jacket sleeve. It’s clear he’s physically stronger than the average man. A vision of his rock-hard body plants a stream of desire inside me— being wrapped up in him all night would be well worth any misery that came with it.

  Freakin’ hell! This guy is not your average dude.

  He’s so far past handsome it makes the word useless.

  Get a hold of yourself— you’ve seen good looking men before.

  He’s holding me much longer than necessary— a turn on for me.

  “My, my…”

  “See what happens when you tailgate?” I whisper using my best effort to contain my interest.

  “And I’m damn glad I did,” he declares, revealing a perfect smile liken to a magazine model. His arms are still around me tight enough to keep my breast pressing into his chest.

  “Do you plan on letting me go at some point?” Moving away wasn’t at all what I wanted.

  “Yep— definitely a ranch gal. The hardest women in the world to impress,” he answers then laughs in a contagious way forcing me to join in.

  “I don’t even know you.”

  “But the question is…do you want to?”

  No words come to me. I do the only thing I can and allow my eyes to reveal the heat of my desire. It’s up to him to pick up on it. If he doesn’t, that’s my answer. Not a match no matter how slick he is.

  He lets his arms fall away from my waist.

  “Much nicer holding you,” he said.

  “I agree with you.” I drop my cocky attitude giving a sincere smile to him, finally.

  These flush pink cheeks of mine tell the story of tingling between my thighs and knots in my gut. Difficulties of my own making— a raging flame inside me from my breast all the way down to my clit.

  Snap out of it girl. Don’t get this distracted from tomorrow’s business.

  This is the most important session of the year for the Colorado Cattleman’s Association. Needed changes can be made in several areas if things fall into place. In order to handle the Chairman of the board, I need to be on top of my game. This accidental encounter is pulling my mind off track.

  It’s easy to notice how relaxed and upbeat he is despite my distant, rude attitude. The problem is he’s too much of what interest me. He’s pulling deep feelings to the surface and I don’t want to deal with them now, or any other time.

  The lobby doors are in view and I’m ready to get through them. When I go through those doors, I’ll lose track of him. Not what I want but it’s what I need to save myself. If I have to endure his sensual smell much longer, I’ll come unwound from the inside out… like a green horse on the third day under saddle.

  The lack of romantic love, sex, whatever you want to call it, hasn’t been in the forefront of my mind for a long time. Not today either. In fact, I’m not all together sure I can remember what lust, or love feels like. It’s been a while since… Months have slipped by with nothing more than a couple weekend flings. I’ve not allowed myself to feel any kind of emotion but when this man’s voice sent flutters through my entire body it stunned me with disbelief. I didn’t know I could still feel excitement from a few words. It thrills me and with it comes a flood of memories. The kind of memories we all fight to forget.

  The perfect dream life was what Cain and I had—the complete package. Nights full of raging love and days laced with silly fun and challenging work. We had it all for a few years— until he didn’t come home from the Cheyenne Rodeo.

  Congratulations to my best girlfriend who persuaded my husband to leave me. For her.

  Do I sound bitter? Good! because I still am. I’m still angry. Ripped to shreds through every fiber of my being. Healing doesn’t come easy and certainly not fast.

  My husband was one of the good guys, so I thought. The idea of having another relationship isn’t in me. I can’t say when it will be— which puts me in the position of learning to live with an occasional night between the sheets with a stranger. It’s hard to hold another man and usually a disappointment for me. For the most part, I’ve given up on it.

  Days go best when I stay busy with the ranch operation. I won’t deny that sometimes memories of how it felt to have my body ravished raises its ugly head of torment. I never thought once of Cain hurting me. I trusted him with everything I was. He tried to come back— her smell all over him as he pleaded how sorry he was— but a thrown stone can’t be gotten back.

  Chapter 4

  Jake

  I exchange several glances with her attempting to size up the situation. We weave down the rows of vehicles without speaking but she’s doing the same thing I am. I know she has some interest, but her hardball game is on, and she’s exceptionally good at it. There has to be a work around and I need to find it.

  “Yeah, George Strait…he’s one of the few great musicians left. Heard you playing his new CD,” he hesitated, “you know he’s appearing at the Denver Rodeo this year.”

  “I didn’t know. Thanks for the tip.”

  “You come into Denver often?”

  “Only when there’s no way around it,” she says and looks away.

  “I take it you live a fair distance from here— my bet is in the mountains.” Easy to figure out since her truck show signs of wet snow.

  She doesn’t answer so it must be the right guess. The west side mountain area is home to the largest cattle ranches in Colorado. Now to figure out which one she’s connected to. I’m screwed if she’s somebody’s wife. I can’t see a wedding ring or mark on her finger. I’ve already checked for it. If I have any luck, she’s a ranch hand. The last thing I want is a crazy husband at my door. But deep inside I already know if push comes to shove, I’ll risk it to get closer to her.

  The conversation is failing. I need to get something happening and fast. We’re almost to the lobby and once she’s in the hotel she could disappear in a heartbeat.

  “You know you’re one in a million, exceptionally pretty, too.”

  She snaps back with a ‘fuck you’ answer.