Claiming My Cowgirl, page 1
Claiming My Cowgirl
Kash Lamar
Contents
Claiming My Cowgirl 1
1. Beck James
2. Clint McCall
3. Beck
4. Clint
5. Beck
6. Clint
7. Beck
Claiming My Cowgirl 2
Prologue
8. Beck James
9. Beck
10. Beck
11. Clint McCall
12. Beck
13. Clint
14. Beck
15. Clint
16. Beck
17. Clint
18. Beck
19. Beck
20. Clint
21. Beck
22. Clint
23. Beck
24. Clint
25. Beck
26. Clint
27. Beck
Claiming My Cowgirl 3
Prologue
28. Clint McCall
29. Beck James
30. Clint
31. Beck
32. Clint
33. Beck
34. Clint
35. Beck
36. Clint
37. Clint
38. Beck
39. Clint
40. Beck
41. Clint
42. Clint
43. Beck
44. Clint
45. Beck
46. Clint
47. Beck
Epilogue
Also by Kash Lamar
Making Her Mine
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 & 2019 by Kash Lamar
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, 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, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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
Claiming My Cowgirl 1
Chapter 1
Beck James
The local cafe is quiet with a few scattered customers but come supper time there won’t be an empty seat in the place.
Aunt Helen sees me come in, waves me over to the counter where I slide on to the red leather stool. My heel hooks on the rail like always.
“I hear you signed the dotted line,” she says, her excitement bubbling up.
“Sure did and not a minute too soon. That’s what I stopped in to tell you but…” I chuckle at the fact she already knows.
“You’re way too late, Beck. I knew before you put the pen down. Everybody knows save for Clint,” she points to a table behind me. I take a fast glance over my shoulder at the man. Never would I expect to see the likes of him in this pocket-size mountain town. He could start up any woman on the first go and keep her that way all night.
“He’s been gone for a while.” She winks at me, pours coffee and takes my order.
This cowboy set me back on my heels… hard. Can’t pin down exactly why but sparks went off inside me— something akin to the often denied emotion called lust. I best take a deep breath and gather myself…
I’m about to shake hands with the devil.
The C & W is a local home style cafe right out of the 1940’s complete with chrome accent counters and red leather booths. Every inch is shiny enough to use for a mirror and the waitresses are friendly, maybe because they’ve seen me every day for the past week.
I’ve been in a bidding war with every person interested in buying the Far End Ranch but I made up my mind that land would be mine at first glimpse. I went the full run to get it.
I heard Aunt Helen has owned this cafe most of her life and I see she’s well loved by all who walk through the door. She still waits tables at a fast pace and never a mistake despite her advanced age. She’s in her seventies, I’d say.
The collective atmosphere is the way I remember a small town cafe should be. Plenty of garden fresh foods and home baked pies in a sideboard cabinet. When I walk through her door life feels right.
That hunk of man seated behind me still has me rattled. To say he’s hot to the point of outrageous is a pure understatement! The times I’ve seen a magnetic man like him I can count on one hand— right now and once years ago. I want to take a longer look at his massive shoulders and arms but it would be too obvious. I’d rather walk to hell before I’d let a man see me display instant interest in him. Seeing his massive size I understand the fact he could move me around like a rag doll without the need to catch a breath. I freaking squirm at the thought of it.
Aunt Helen stops to refill my coffee. “Yes ma’am, the whole towns talked all day about you and the Far End Ranch. They can’t believe a young single gal is tough enough to live way out there all year without any help.”
“You don’t say,” I answer and smile as I recall how news can fly through this kind of place.
The wall mirror behind the counter gives me somewhat of a view of him and I can’t help but steal a glance when he won’t catch me. Nor can I help but notice he’s looked at my ass more than a few times.
The heat stirs between my thighs reminding me I’m still very much alive in spite of the hell I’ve been through. The true giveaway is the tingle in my nipples as they harden to the thought of his touch. It’s a reaction I haven’t felt for a long time and it caught me off guard.
It’s impossible to miss the fact the men are checking out my boots, my belt, my hat— every inch of me. I know ranch men well enough to understand they’ll size me up by the style and condition of what I have on.
They need to see if there’s spur marks on my boots, who made them and how worn they are. They’re looking for rhinestones on my belt and hat band, if they see any it’s points off. They’ve searched for chap marks on my Wranglers and rope marks on the belt loops. When they finish they’ll know all there is to know about who I am, where I’m from, and how I handle livestock.
They want to see if I’m a line dancer or a ranch raised cowgirl— most times there’s a large difference between the two. Nor have they missed a chance to take in as much of my face and front rack as possible from their angle.
I haven’t turned to look at them head on and I won’t. No reason to since I can see enough in the mirror plus hear most of what’s being said. It seems the handsome Clint McCall took a trip and their talk is about the news since he’s been gone. It’s not clear how long he’s been away but I’d guess a fair length of time.
I’m still in awe of the fact they’re far more attractive than the average men, all three of them. Now how often does that happen? Not very often in the city and highly unexpected in a mountain town like this.
Still, the big guy stands out from the other men with him, not because of looks but the quality in his gruff voice, the way he puts words together with instilled calm and confidence. His strong build jumps out above the others, muscular broad shoulders, flat belly. It all adds up to one outrages sex machine. I’d like to see if there’s a gold band on his hand but in reality, it doesn’t matter. Most cowboys don’t wear rings for safety reasons.
Aunt Helen passes me the check. “I’m glad you’re set to move in, Beck. Don’t be a stranger now, I took a shine to you,” she hesitates as her voice cracks. “You remind me of myself in past years.”
“You’ll see me more than you think. No way to pass up good cooking and good company,” I tell her patting her shoulder.
All eyes are on me and I feel the burn as I walk over to pay. I’m not offended as they’re respectful, no cat calls. I don’t mind a look from an appreciative eye.
“Let me know if you need any help with the move and I can get you fixed up,” she tells me. I thank her and start to the door as my heart beats faster. I want a better look at this big cowboy.
As I move toward him we lock eyes and hold it right up to the last step that puts me beside him. I break the gaze and look around the table at the other men.
“Ma'am,” they say and all hats tip. I return a polite nod.
Damn— I can’t believe that man’s vibe. His energy shoots out from his body like a flame thrower.
I definitely made the right decision to hang my hat here in Silverton. It makes me wonder why in the hell I stayed in the city struggling to make a worthless relationship work. It never did from the start and I knew it. I’ve been like a fish out of water for a long time but not anymore. I’m with my own kind now. I understand ranch folks and how life goes.
Their low-pitched chatter continues after I’m past the table but still easily heard.
“She’s an impressive cowgirl,” one of them comments.
“That’s a High Points Cheyenne buckle… it’s the real thing all right.”
“Is she the one who bought the Far End Ranch?”
“Did you say a woman bought the homestead?” Clint ask.
Their voices are cut off when the wide doors close behind me. A quick glance over my shoulder through the window shows me what I want to see.
He’s at the window in a position to track my steps to the truck. I read that as interest.
I need to meet this man!
Chapter 2
Clint McCall
I didn’t think she’d notice me watch her through the checkered curtains along the sides of th
e large window. She did— maybe that’s not a bad thing. I want her to know I’m interested. More than interested.
Truth is she got a good hold on me the second she looked my way. This woman is unusual, authentic in every sense. That fact alone makes it impossible for me to let her go by. Women like her aren’t in abundance around Silverton, or anywhere else I’ve been.
A strong sense of self and ability shows in how she handles herself. It’s to be admired, and I do, but right now it’s her physical attributes that are kicking my mind in a circle. I couldn’t keep my rock hard cock in check the entire time she sat on the lunch counter stool.
That tiny waist of hers pulled my eyes straight to her perfect round ass— tight as a drum. There’s not one doubt she’s spent her entire life on a horse and I don’t mean a walk around an arena.
Heavy spur marks on her Olathe boots make that fact clear. Wannabes don’t even know what Olathe’s are. Don’t discount her belt with dozens of rub marks from ropes pushed through the loops. It tells me she’s a roper. But what seals it is her Cheyenne High Points buckle. Only the best of the best leave Cheyenne Frontier Rodeo with High Points. The only way to get a buckle like it is to win it and that’s no easy feat. Few women have the honor to own one.
A braid of hair thicker than a pulling rope falls to her waist from under the flat top Buckaroo hat. Not worn that way for looks but to keep it out of the way when working stock which is most likely every day.
White pearl snaps and half moon piping on her shirt says she grew up in the old style ways. She isn’t one to bling out like the new group of dress up cowgirls do. That one-ton Dodge Ram Diesel truck of hers is rigged with everything needed to pull a seriously heavy load of stock. My guess is the day she turned old enough to get her permit contestant card she took to the rodeo circuit.
She’s traditional cowgirl to the bone. This woman is not only attractive but she knows ranch life inside out living it everyday. That suits me perfect. No woman on earth is more provocative than a woman like her to a rancher like me.
She tops the chart from the back view but when I see the front of her I lose it.
Fuckin’ Hell! She’s ON. FIRE. HOT!
First thing I lock on to is her breast pointed straight out— round, full cleavage. What a fine pair of tits!
But too soon her sculpted face steals the show. Her creamy porcelain skin is a surprise since everything about her tells the story of long days in the sun. I’d say her wide brim hat does its job to protect. Full lips call out to come taste me— intense blue eyes back up the summons.
She’s not tall, about five feet four, with far more cut muscle than most women but it doesn’t take away her feminine appearance. Her build can deceive in that she’s firm and muscled. But her full tits and round ass say she’s a comfortable lover. Make no mistake though, she can handle a hard day’s work with any crew of men. I’d lay money on it.
With all these perfect physical qualities— believe me, they are far past outstanding— beyond them is a hidden trait. It jumps out loud and clear through her eyes and facial expression. The way she moves her body screams it out.
I recognized it in an instant even though I’ve never met a woman who had it in my entire life—only heard about it a few times years back as a young man when on a hunting trip with older family men. It’s hard to put a finger on it. Harder to describe but it’s what all men look for in a woman and seldom finds.
I guess you can say it’s passion. A loving heart full of passion for her life and a body full of fire for her man. She over flows with kindness and respect but has inner strength enough to stand her ground to the death.
I know I’ll lay down with her. I have to. And that’s the problem. She’s too much of what I want in a woman. I’m out for some temporary tosh, that’s all. But this woman can make a man forget what temporary means.
Years back I made a promise to never let any woman twist me up in knots again. Been there, done that, didn’t like it. That promise literal went to hell in a hand basket when I laid eyes on her! This woman wrapped me up in a tight ball in less than a minute without a spoken word between us.
I need to seriously think about this… I don’t want to get into a relationship with anybody.
Who the hell am I kidding. I already know I’ll come up with the same answer.
I need to get her.
“What did you say about a woman and the Far End Ranch?” I ask.
“I heard talk a woman made the high bid on your old homestead but can’t say for sure if it’s true.”
“What do you boys know about the lady?” I ask around the table. All heads give a shake to the effect of nothing.
“I’ve seen her here a few times the past week at breakfast but she’s a quiet one— stays to herself,” Bob says. “No reason for me to ask questions since I have the woman I want.”
The men have a big laugh. “You don’t want another ‘up close and personal’ visit with that cast-iron pan,” I remind him for the hell of it.
“You, Harley? You always know about the new gals in town,” I say as a tease but know it’s the truth.
“First time I’ve seen her… but maybe not the last! I might have to investigate.”
My face tightens, my jaws clinch together. “You’ll have to go over me first.”
Not a doubt Harley got my message to back off on that idea. He’s known as the town playboy and he works hard at living up to the label. He thumps the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. The table goes quiet until the waitress stops with fresh coffee.
“When you see Helen ask her to come over,” I tell her as she fills the cups. Helen will know all the news around town.
“She’s already gone home.”
“Cindy, did you heard who bought the Far End Ranch?”
“All last week people were in town to bid but haven’t heard who won. But who in their right mind would live way out there?” We all laugh with her knowing there’s some truth in her words.
I know I can’t find out much more about her tonight. It isn’t likely she’s the buyer of my families’ homestead as I’m positive Dad said a man and wife bought the ranch. Dad, and the lawyers, took care of the sale and he left for Texas after the documents were signed this morning. I doubt I can reach them tonight.
Might as well go home and drive myself crazy over her.
Chapter 3
Beck
The drive up the narrow mountain road back to the ranch gives an exquisite view of jagged peaks and meadows. Excitement flows over me as I see the future possibilities of success and happiness returning to my life. I’ve bought the ranch of my dreams and seen one of the most handsome men a woman could come across. Sparks flew like none other when our glance met. I’m guessing he likes what he saw as much as I did. If my luck holds, I’ll run into him again. I’m feeling lucky.
It’s not likely I’ll ever grow tired of being among the charm of this historic log cabin. It just feels right down in my bones. As I walk from room to room again looking at each detail a sense of calm and cheerfulness is present. The one thing I’ve missed the past few years is a good man who wants to ravish me inside and out, but I have an idea that can change.
A long-distance move is never easy even in the best situation and after a brutal divorce it can feel near impossible. Those emotions aren’t present—I don’t know why but they’re gone and I’m glad for it. That’s all over now. Thousands of miles separate me and the old life and I’m ready to start new.
