that she’d never shared with a man before.
He pulled her out of the stall, his hands tight around her waist. Stumbling back, they fell into a pile of straw, their mouths still frantically searching for the perfect manifestation of their need. He tossed his hat aside, then tugged off his gloves, his hands immediately moving to cup her backside. Though Payton knew their privacy in the stable wasn’t certain, she didn’t care. All that mattered was his touch, his fingers tearing at her shirt until he exposed the curve of her shoulder.
His teeth grazed her skin and Payton tipped her head back, inviting him to take more. There were moments when she acted on instinct, as if this woman had always been buried deep inside her and was just waiting to get out. And then, at other times, she felt like a teenager, fumbling her way though her first sexual experience.
He excited her and frightened her all at once. And yet, she pushed aside her fears, rushing headlong into her desire, aching to experience release. Payton tugged at his jacket, pulling it over his arms until she could unbutton his shirt.
“Too many clothes,” she murmured as she brushed aside the shirt and placed a kiss in the center of his chest. He was so magnificent, she mused, his skin deeply tanned and his body finely muscled. Her lips found one of his nipples and she circled it with her tongue.
Brody ran his fingers through her hair, sighing her name softly as if urging her on. Slowly, Payton worked her way lower, trailing kisses over his abdomen. But before she could go farther, she heard the clip-clop of hooves on the concrete floor of the stable.
She looked up to find Callum standing just inside the stable door, his horse’s reins dangling from his fingers. With a soft cry, Payton scrambled to her feet, brushing the straw from her clothes and trying to adjust her shirt. Callum arched a brow as he looked down at Brody. “I can come back later,” he said slowly.
Brody shook his head, cursing. “No. Feel free. We were just…talking.”
“Oh, is that what they call it?” Callum asked. He pulled his horse along until he stopped in front of Payton. “Is my brother bothering you? If he is, you can just tell him to leave.”
Callum was always so serious that Payton couldn’t tell if he was angry or just teasing. She gave him an apologetic smile. “It—it won’t happen again,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Callum reached up and plucked a piece of straw from her hair and handed it to her, a grin quirking at the corners of his mouth. Payton felt her cheeks warm and she took the reins from his hand. “I’ll take care of your horse,” she mumbled.
Tugging at the bit, she pulled the horse along the length of the stable, hoping to get as far away from the two brothers as possible. She would not keep this job for long if she continued to show such a blatant disrespect for her employer.
And she needed this job! She wasn’t ready to go home. The thought of facing her family and Sam was just too much for her right now. Here, on the station, she felt useful, which made her far happier than she’d been in a very long time.
But was it the work that made her happy or was it her growing infatuation with Brody Quinn? She’d be deluding herself if she ignored his part in this. Glancing back, she caught sight of Callum and Brody, deep in conversation, Callum gesturing with his gloved hands and Brody watching him with an indolent expression.
She barely knew the Quinn brothers, but the family dynamics were quite evident. Callum was the caretaker, the responsible brother whose only focus was the success of the station. Teague was the charmer, the smart, funny one with the ready smile and witty conversation.
And Brody…well, he was a little more difficult to define. He seemed to be the rebel of the family, a bit of an outsider. Payton couldn’t understand why he stayed on the station when it was so obvious that it wasn’t his favorite place to be.
She tied Callum’s horse up to a nearby post and began to remove the saddle. When she straightened from unbuckling the cinch, she found Brody standing behind her. He gently turned her around to face him, then bent lower and kissed her.
“Sorry about that,” he said, reaching out to smooth his hand over her hair.
“We can’t do that again,” she said, looking up at him. “I need this job, Brody.”
“You’re not going to lose your job,” he said. “Cal doesn’t care. He’s so preoccupied with Gemma, he doesn’t have time to worry about us.”
“I care.” Turning back to Callum’s mount, she pulled the saddle off and set it on a bale of straw. “I like working here. And I need to pay you back for taking care of my debts.”
“Cal can’t complain about what you do when you’re finished working, can he?”
“No,” she said, setting the saddle pad on top of the saddle. “I guess not.”
“All right, then. We’ll just have to confine ourselves to the hours before breakfast and after dinner. And we’re going to have to find a place that offers some privacy.” He grabbed the saddle and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take care of Cal’s horse and you can finish what you were doing earlier. Then we’ll go eat.”
“You don’t have to help me.”
“Yes I do,” Brody said. “Because the sooner you finish, the sooner I’ll have you all to myself.”
Perhaps he was right. As long as she finished her work, Callum couldn’t begrudge her evenings spent with Brody. “Okay.”
Her second day of work had been as exhausting as her first. But the prospect of spending time alone with Brody gave her a sudden surge of energy. She’d fallen asleep in his arms last night then woken up to an empty bed. She wasn’t about to do that two nights in a row. “It’s a date.”
“Good.” He grabbed the blanket and headed toward the tack room.
Payton watched him, smiling to herself. There was something so attractive about a man who actually worked for a living, a man who used his body the way it was meant to be used—for hard labor…and seduction. Brody was dirty and sweaty, yet she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life.
BRODY DROPPED the phone into the cradle, then pushed back in Callum’s desk chair, linking his hands behind his head. He hadn’t bothered to pick up his messages on his mobile phone since reception in Bilbarra and at the station was nonexistent. But remotely checking the voice mail of his home phone at his apartment in Fremantle had brought an interesting development.
Cursing softly, he closed his eyes, a tightly held breath escaping his chest. When he’d left Fremantle, the team doctors had assured him there was no chance he would ever play football again. But now, a doctor in Los Angeles had developed a surgery that offered a way to reconstruct his bum knee.
Why now, why after he’d resigned himself to his fate? Why even tempt him with the possibility of regaining everything he’d lost? Brody knew it would be a long shot at best. And even if the surgery was successful, there’d be months, maybe a year or two, of rehab. Was he really willing to put in the time, just for another chance to play?
He didn’t
