Vying for his Affection (A Loving Nip Book 19) Page 2

  “We won’t need him, since I brought Lily,” Murdoch pointed out as he returned carrying a saddle.

  “Right.” Rhyme should have realized that. “I’m gonna put him in his paddock. Be right back.”

  Murdoch grunted in response, and Rhyme untied the extra horse and headed away.

  When Rhyme returned, he grabbed the bottle of water he’d left on the ground near the tack shed. After twisting off the cap, he lifted it to his lips. As he gulped nearly half the bottle, he noticed the saddle Murdoch was placing on Lily.

  Huh?

  After swallowing, Rhyme lifted his brows in question. “Why are you putting one of our kid’s saddles on her?” It was a larger kid’s saddle, but it was still one they used for children. Then he grinned broadly. “Is the little stringbean really that small?”

  “I’m not small. All you cowboys are just oversized,” a melodious tenor snapped from behind him.

  Spinning, Rhyme nearly swallowed his tongue as he looked at the speaker. He was definitely small, although it was easy to see that the guy was an adult male. Rhyme took in his skinny frame covered in relaxed jeans and a form-fitting polo shirt that just accentuated his leanness.

  Rhyme took in the man’s shock of red hair, flashing green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses, and the freckles on his pale features and felt his blood heat.

  Cute as a button.

  “Aww, don’t be that way, little bit,” Rhyme responded before he could think better of it—after all, the guy’s crossed arms and scowling lips made his displeasure clear. Except, with arousal singing through his veins, Rhyme wasn’t thinking with his big head. “You’re such a tiny thing. You really could fit in that saddle.”

  Seeing the way the man’s face flushed, Rhyme inhaled deeply as he eased a step closer. He desperately wanted to smell the fragrance of the blood filling the guy’s cheeks and neck. As soon as the sweet iron-rich scent filled his nostrils, he barely managed to fight back a moan.

  Exquisite.

  Rhyme had never scented blood so enticing. His stomach clenched, and his mouth watered. Need for the man before him caused his half-hard dick to thicken so fast Rhyme nearly swayed on his feet.

  Gods! Could this human be my beloved?

  “Oh, little bit,” Rhyme mumbled. “Let’s go for a moonlight ride.”

  “Really? What the hell makes you think I’d go anywhere alone with you?” the man snapped, resting his hands on his hips. “First you insult me, twice, and now you think I’m gonna give you the time of day?” He snorted as he turned away from him, then sauntered toward Murdoch. “Looks like you got a little pony ready for me, handsome.” He stopped before the animal and eyed it somewhat warily. “What’s its name?”

  Rhyme’s stomach clenched for a whole new reason. He hated being dismissed... but he hated the upset scent rolling off the sexy man even more. The human who could very well be his beloved had thought he’d been insulting him.

  Shit!

  When Murdoch glanced Rhyme’s way, a question flashing in his eyes, Rhyme mouthed, Name? His friend and fellow vampire offered an almost infinitesimal nod before turning his attention to the human.

  “This is Lily,” Murdoch told him, rubbing the mare’s nose. “And she’s not really a pony. She’s just small for a quarter horse.” Holding out his hand, he added, “What’s your name?”

  “I’m tired of people making fun of my size,” the man stated, ignoring the question and petting the horse’s neck. “You’re a pretty girl, Lily. Are you a nice girl?”

  “She is a nice girl,” Murdoch assured. “And we pulled her out to make you more comfortable, not to make fun of you.” He offered a reassuring smile as he added, “We do the same for all our guests.” Pointing at a huge behemoth of a man, Murdoch told him, “Just like our friend over there is paired up with that gelding on the end.”

  Rhyme watched the human’s eyes widen as he took in the size of the horse Murdoch had pointed out. Charlie was a seventeen-hand gelding who was part quarter horse and part friesian. They’d ended up with the animal when one of their bigger mares slipped through a broken fence and got into the pen with Gypsum’s stallion. The resulting foal ended up big. Fortunately, he’d been born with his mother’s sweet disposition.

  “You all put your foot in it,” a young woman stated from where she’d stopped beside Rhyme. She smirked at him as she held out her hand. “I’m Lilibeth. Which horse is mine?”

  “It wasn’t intentional,” Rhyme muttered, feeling his cheeks warm. Good thing his dark skin hid such things. After a quick glance over Lilibeth’s frame, he pointed toward the gelding next to Lily. “That’s Jake. He’s a nice boy.”

  “You did not just check me out,” Lilibeth said with narrowed eyes.

  Rhyme barked a laugh as he shook his head. “No, ma’am,” he immediately assured her. “Just verifying leg length and body type so I can put you in a comfortable saddle.”

  Lilibeth nodded, her stance relaxing. “Okay.” Then she headed toward the horse Rhyme had indicated.

  Over the next several minutes, Rhyme and Murdoch went through the process of assigning horses and getting everyone comfortable in the saddle. When Murdoch moved toward the little guy at the end to finish the process, Rhyme gripped his upper arm, staying the action. “This one’s mine,” he murmured upon seeing the fellow vampire’s surprise.

  “You sure?” his friend muttered back. “Doesn’t seem to want much to do with you.”

  “I’ll have to fix that, then, won’t I?” Rhyme didn’t extrapolate. There wasn’t time. “Start the usual spiel.”

  Murdoch nodded and headed toward the front of the group, not questioning him again. As a lower-ranking enforcer for their vampire coven, his buddy wouldn’t question him. Murdoch would follow Rhyme’s orders.

  “I’m sorry you thought I was making fun of you,” Rhyme stated after stopping next to the man on Lily. He rested his hand on his knee and squeezed lightly. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  The human peered down at him with narrowed eyes. “How else should I have taken being called the little stringbean?” There was a snarl in his tenor voice. “Get your hand off me.”

  Rhyme grimaced as he lifted his hands in placation. “Okay. You’re right. That was thoughtless of me.” Scowling at his memory of their first meeting, he grumbled, “And you called me oversized, so I don’t know if you have any room to talk. I’m only six-foot-two.”

  “With a giant frame,” the man pointed out, stabbing his finger in the air at his torso. “Wide shoulders, big pecs. I bet you even have a six-pack under there. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Just adjust my stirrups and let’s get on with this bullshit company activity.”

  Swallowing hard, Rhyme tried to figure out what he could say to mend the rift that his overheard comment had created. If he’s my beloved, shouldn’t the pull to bond be working in his favor? He’d seen it happen with other vampires.

  Doing as the man had ordered, Rhyme swiftly adjusted the length of the stirrups to a more comfortable position for him. Once he was done, he couldn’t resist gripping his calf and helping him get his foot in the stirrup. He squeezed lightly along the skinny calf, rubbing his thumb over the faint muscle.

  “Damn, you’re skinny.” The words were out of Rhyme’s mouth before he could stop them. All his focus was on touching the slender man on the horse before him and how it made his blood burn and thud through his veins. “So fucking—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” the human snarled, jerking his foot away from Rhyme’s hand. “I said get your hands off me.”

  In the process, the man slammed his heel into Lily’s side. The mare jerked and shifted sideways, instantly responding to the unexpected pressure. She didn’t have far to go, considering Jake stood next to her.

  Still, it was enough.

  The man lost his balance and tumbled toward Rhyme, squeaking in alarm. On instinct, he caught the human. As luck would have it, the man knocked Rhyme’s hat from his head with his flailing limbs, then slammed one pa
lm into his face and the other to his shoulder.

  Rhyme couldn’t help but gasp, which caused his fang to scrape over the human’s palm. The man’s blood oozed from the scratch, filling his mouth. The sweet metallic taste caused Rhyme’s vampiric instincts to flare to life as his entire body surged with hunger.

  Mine!

  “Let go of me, goddammit!”

  Coming back to himself with a mental thud, Rhyme realized that he was holding his sweet beloved around his waist. He had his face tucked against the man’s neck, and he was inhaling his scent. Rhyme even rubbed his right hand up and down his near leg, since the other one was still draped over the saddle.

  Lily had calmed. Probably thanks to Murdoch, who stood at her head, rubbing her nose. His fellow vampire stared at him quizzically.

  Unable to explain right then, Rhyme settled his beloved, the human he hoped to soon make his forever bonded love, back into the saddle. It took every damn scrap of self-control he had to release him.

  As Rhyme nodded at Murdoch and joined him before the group, he prayed his aching erection wasn’t noticeable, since his flannel over-shirt was untucked. As he listened to his fellow vampire start the instruction spiel they gave every time they took a group on a trail ride, one thought reverberated through his mind.

  I met my beloved, and I don’t even know his name.

  Chapter Three

  “I can’t believe you filed a report on that cowboy,” Lilibeth hissed as she fell into step next to Max. “Why did you do that? He was hitting on you! And he’s hawt!”

  Max rubbed the back of his neck as he winced. “Probably not my finest moment, but he just made me so mad,” he admitted, glancing her way and taking in her wide eyes and parted lips. Yep. Shocked. “The first words I hear out of his mouth is how I’m a little stringbean. Then he calls me little bit and won’t stop.”

  “That’s because you refused to tell him your name,” Lilibeth interjected.

  Rolling his eyes, Max shrugged. “Well, so.” Yeah, I can be a stubborn bastard sometimes. It came with his Scottish heritage. “Maybe he should have gotten the point and left me alone.”

  “Oh, come on,” Lilibeth said, obviously unwilling to let the matter go. “If he’d been hitting on me, I woulda let him in my panties.”

  Max smirked at Lilibeth. “That’s because you’re a hussy.”

  “And you’re a queen,” she countered.

  “And proud of it,” Max responded, sticking his nose in the air.

  Lilibeth laughed, then sobered. “Still... I’m not sure what you did was the right course of action.”

  Sighing, Max nodded. “I know.”

  “Does that mean you’re gonna apologize?”

  Max rubbed his hand over his face, feeling it heat beneath his palm. “I’ll think about it.” By then they’d reached the cabin Lilibeth was sharing with Esmerelda, and he paused at the bottom of the steps to the small porch. “How is it staying with Esme?”

  It was Lilibeth’s turn to shrug. “We don’t really talk, so it’s okay. We just stay out of each other’s way.” Then she started up the steps while calling over her shoulder, “See you in half an hour for lunch.”

  With a wave and a nod, Max started toward his own cabin. The first night hadn’t been bad at all. The bedroom had two full-size beds, and the sofa had pulled out to a king size. When Stanton had asked who was going to sleep where, George had replied with, “I’ll take the sofa. That way I can jack off without someone else in the room.”

  Yeah. That was an image Max hadn’t needed to think about, but whatever. It gave him access to the bed, though, so it was cool.

  Max rounded the side of the cabin being used by the bosses and Jerome, cutting down an alley. Moving quickly, he anticipated washing off the horse hair and sweat left over from the trail ride. His clothes stuck to him in places he wasn’t used to, and he picked at his polo shirt, tugging it away from his chest.

  “Ugh,” he grumbled, when as soon as he released the fabric, it returned to clinging damply to him.

  As Max walked, he thought about Lilibeth’s comments. In truth, he’d been flattered by Rhyme’s attention. After all, the cowboy was sexy as fuck. His broad shoulders and sculped chest beneath his open flannel and t-shirt called for Max’s fingers to massage and tease. He’d so badly wanted to rub his hands over Rhyme’s bald dark head.

  Is he naturally smooth, or does he have slight prickles betraying he shaves his head?

  If only the guy hadn’t kept calling him names.

  I mean, really? What the hell was that all about?

  Even through it all, Max had been hard as nails. Too bad his comments kept making Max see red. Even with his erection urging him to give in to his attraction, all Max could think about was shutting him up.

  Lost in his thoughts, Max didn’t notice he had company until someone grabbed his arm. He was jerked around to face whoever and found himself looking up into Anthony’s angry visage. Benjamin and Curtis flanked him, their arms crossed over their chests. All three men sneered down at him for an instant before Anthony’s shove back toward the alley caused Max to lose sight of them.

  Max’s shoulder slammed into a cabin wall, drawing a hiss of pain from him. He quickly turned so he could face his attackers. Rubbing his shoulder, Max glanced between the three homophobes he was normally good at avoiding.

  Just great.

  “You make me sick,” Anthony snarled, stalking closer. He cracked his knuckles as he approached. “You and the rest of the fags around here.” Glancing left and right, exchanging nasty looks with his friends, Anthony smiled cruelly. “We’re gonna teach that cowboy fag a lesson, and you’re gonna help us.”

  Shaking his head, Max replied, “Why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t”—it was Benjamin’s turn to crack his knuckles and chuckle, reminding Max of a bad Bond villain—”we’re gonna mess you up.” Then he lifted his arms and flexed his biceps, showing off his impressive guns. “And these babies can do some damage to a little twink like you.”

  Max took in Benjamin’s guns, feeling impressed despite himself. If the dark-haired man didn’t have such a mean personality, he might have thought him handsome. The analogy beauty is only skin deep popped into his head.

  It sure was true with these three.

  “So, I’m supposed to do... what?” Max asked, thinking quickly while covertly searching for a way out.

  Unfortunately, with the three much bigger men hemming him in, he didn’t see any.

  “You’re gonna ask that fag cowboy to talk, then take him to a secluded spot where we’ll be waiting,” Curtis told him, snickering. “Then we’re gonna rough him up. Teach him how a real man behaves.”

  Max opened his mouth, then closed it again.

  Shit.

  While Max had been angry about Rhyme’s continued short comments, he didn’t want to help these assholes hurt him.

  “You know, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask.”

  Looking beyond Anthony’s shoulder, Max felt his heart trip in his chest. Rhyme stood ten feet away. As one, the three men turned to face him, giving Max a clear view of him. The big cowboy stood with his feet braced apart and his fists on his hips. His black eyes were narrowed as he took in the interaction.

  “On this ranch, we don’t discriminate, so you’d best be on your way and leave Max alone.”

  Rhyme’s deep voice held forceful authority that caused a shiver of arousal to trickle down Max’s spine. His gut tightened, and his prick twitched.

  Damn! Why couldn’t this guy be nice?

  Benjamin barked a laugh as he nudged Anthony. “This place will do, right?”

  Anthony nodded. “Yep.” He peered around the area. “Ain’t no one around.”

  Fear slithered down Max’s spine, replacing his untimely arousal.

  Shit. They’re gonna attack him!

  Max thought quickly and called out, “You guys won’t get away with this.” He met Rhyme’s gaze and
asked, “Is Murdoch still at the hitching posts? I’ll get him.”

  “He is, little bit,” Rhyme drawled, his dark eyes somehow appearing to warm, even beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat. “But I won’t need his help to take out these guys if they decide to get a little rough.”

  “Why the fuck do you insist on calling me that?” Max couldn’t resist snapping, regardless of the perilous situation they were in. “You know I hate it.”

  Rhyme’s expression actually appeared stricken. “Really?” His dark brows furrowed under his brim. “But—”

  He didn’t get to finish.

  Anthony stepped forward and took a swing.

  Rocking back a step while twisting his body, Rhyme swung his arm. He grabbed Anthony’s wrist and yanked. As Anthony stumbled forward, Rhyme slammed the palm of his other hand into his torso while releasing his wrist.

  Tumbling ass over teakettle, Anthony sprawled in the grass.

  Benjamin and Curtis converged on Rhyme. The cowboy smirked as he glanced between them. Lifting a hand, he crooked his fingers in a beckoning motion.

  Curtis lunged while Benjamin swung.

  Rhyme dropped to one heel while sweeping out with his other foot. Benjamin went down. As Rhyme popped back up, he stepped close to Curtis and popped him in the gut.

  With a grunt, Curtis stumbled backward a couple of steps. By that time, Anthony had risen, and he was pulling Benjamin to his feet. All three once again prepared to face off against the cowboy... who hadn’t even lost his hat.

  Glancing between them, Rhyme chuckled. “I can do this all day, boys, but you’re the ones who’ll be walking away with bruises,” he taunted. “Not me.”

  “What’s going on here?” a stranger’s deep voice called.

  Max turned and spotted a huge man in a black cowboy hat. Gaping, he realized the guy had to stand as tall as Stanton at six-foot-five. Big and broad, his presence demanded respect.

  Rhyme tipped his hat at the man. “Howdy, Gypsum. These fellers are a little bigoted and decided we fags needed to be taught a lesson.” He shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled. “I was just showin’ ‘em why that was a bad idea.”