Page 3 of Rough

He hopped down off the table, picked up his hat and settled it on his head. He didn’t make a move to leave. Hell no. He was trying to make amove.

The asshole had the nerve to grin, then slap my back with his good hand, much harder than necessary. “Well, we’d better get into the chutes. Almost time for the bull rides. You gonna watch me, Doc?”

I gave him a look that screamedfuck off, she’s mine.I might’ve even growled a little, too.

We had a short stare down, and he finally relented. He sighed, flicked the rim of his hat. “Ma’am.”

I knew Abe was a smart guy because he finally left, and I was alone with the hottest female in all of Montana.

“About that tour,” I said, taking a step closer and giving her my easygoing smile. I tucked my thumbs into my front pockets.

I wasn’t the kinda guy who believed in signs or gave much credence to fate, but after my wolf’s reaction to her presence, to discover such a gorgeous creature was living in my hometown felt significant. After all the wandering the fucking country riding angry bulls, and she’d been right fucking here. It was fate the rodeo was in my hometown, and she was working it.

“Oh, no,” she dismissed me immediately, turning away to clean up from tending to Abe. “I’ll watch the bull riding and see you and Abe ride but have to go right back to work when I go home. Thanks, though.”

Shot down. It was just a tour. Sure, it meant I wanted to show her around… my dick, but I’d show her a few sights first. Maybe she needed to see me in action. First on the back of a bull, then maybe in bed. Who didn’t want to fuck the champion? It wasn’t like I had anything to worry about. No human could out-ride me. Especially not when I wanted to win.

I definitely wanted to win now. I stuffed my hat back on my head.

Doctor Audrey wanted to see some riding? I would show her exactly how it was done.

2

AUDREY

The testosteronein the arena was overwhelming.

Unfortunately, my undersexed body was standing up and taking notice. I would swear my ovaries dropped two eggs when Boyd entered the med room. All cowboy swagger and charm. He’d stepped so close I’d been able to smell his aftershave and soap, and it did something crazy to my head. I mean, my body. Everywhere. I got all hot and tingly, and my brain lost power for the moment.

I already had a thing for cowboys. The hats, the loose hipped gait, rugged exteriors and the air of…maleness.It was definitely a perk of moving to Montana. Boyd was about as gorgeous as God made them with that chiseled jaw and lazy smile. Sandy colored hair that was a few weeks past a haircut. Pale eyes that had roved over me as if I were a tasty treat he wanted to devour. A crooked nose that proved while he might be quick with the smile, he was probably quick with the fists, too. It was the whole package—all six feet plus of pure muscle and virile man that made my nipples harden and my panties get damp.

My body had reacted to his presence like I’d been seeping in pheromones that crazily enough made me feel like I was in heat, and he was some kind of stallion ready to mount. I might not have been with a man in a while… close to a few days short of forever, but I knew the signs. He’d wanted me as another notch on his bedpost.

My mind was a total slut—wanting to be tied to that notched bedpost—which it had no business being. The animals might be branded, but each one of those Grade-A cowboys should have a mark that guaranteed them players. They were all quick-grinning males who could make a woman wet with just a wink and have her drop her panties with the crook of a finger.

These rodeo champs apparently thought they were God’s gift to women, although why Boyd and Abe—Abe might have been subtle about his intentions, but he’d flirted nonetheless— bothered making a play for me when there were a dozen or more scantily dressed cowgirls out there for the taking was beyond me. They probably dished it out to every female they met. Cowboy code or something. My panties were ruined after being in the same room as Boyd for even a few short minutes, but I fortunately still had them on. Or, unfortunately, because I had no doubt the guy knew his way around a woman’s body, and there’d been a perfectly sturdy exam table for me to be bent over and fucked.

Yup, my slutty mind was pretty darned busy. Abe was the only injury so far for the event, and I was able to head to the stands and watch the bull riding. I was the doctor on call. If someone got hurt, I was to tend to them, connect with the ambulance standing by and get the person to the hospital.

From where I sat—unless someone randomly started choking on a corn dog in the vendor area—I’d know if my assistance was needed. I sat near the aisle with easy access to the competitor area and a great view of the chutes. This was where the bulls were held and readied, then the cowboy climbed the fence and hopped on its back. Once the man was secure, the gate was flung open and off they went, the pissed off bull doing anything to fling off his rider. It practically guaranteed me a few more patients before the event was over.

I scanned the chute area for the two of them, watched as the first few competitors completed their rides. I was equally turned on and filled with dread as one after another had his turn. The crowd felt the same as me, cheering and gasping in equal measure. Riding a bull was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. And the dumbest.

I didn’t know how these guys lived past thirty. Maybe they didn’t. That thought made my chest unexpectedly tighten, like I’d already developed an attachment to the two cowboys I’d met.

Not the first one, the second. Abe was handsome. Gentle, considering his size and what he did for a living. Sweet, even. Boyd, though, was… dangerous. I wasn’t afraid he would hurt me physically, although he had at least a foot on me and probably fifty pounds, but something else. He could hurt my heart. Screw with my plans. I’d been so focused on med school and my residency. On my career. It wasn’t like me to deviate because of a perfect ass in a pair of Wranglers. He was a bad boy who I knew was trouble but wanted anyway.

A rider was flung from his bull and landed hard, then rolled to clear himself from the back hooves of the bull. The rodeo clowns—I was sure they had some other name I didn’t know—ran over, redirected the animal, so the rider could get to his feet. I exhaled as the crowd cheered at his high score. He dusted himself off, lifted his hat in salute and walked out of the ring.

Boyd’s face appeared on the jumbotron, his quick smile twenty feet wide. The crowd went wild, which meant his ego was probably as big as his image on the huge screen. Yeah, I needed to keep my distance from that one because I wasn’t the one-night-stand kind of woman. With med school and residency, I barely socialized, let alone dated, let alone had tons of sex. Or any, really. Maybe a fling would be best for my crazy schedule, but no, that wasn’t me. I was the long term, commitment type. In fact, I’d moved to small town Montana to settle down. Slow down. Find a partner and start a family, just as I’d always longed to have. A family made up of two parents who loved each other and a gaggle of kids. I wanted that kind of insanity. Sledding, science fair projects, pet gerbils. That was what I longed for. Especially babies.

Screwing a rodeo champ was not part of that picture, and I doubted a rodeo champ wanted to fuck a woman who had baby fever. The words “ticking clock” wasn’t the same for him as it was for me. His plans lasted eight seconds, mine a lifetime.

Still, my body went on full alert when I spied his name on the ticker—Boyd Wolf vs. Night Sweats, which was a crazy name for a bull.

I leaned forward to spot him down in the chutes. They all looked the same in their helmets, safety vests and chaps, the sponsors’ logos splashed across the shoulders of their collared button-downs. But then I saw him—at least I was fairly certain it was him. The rider oozed the same raw confidence he’d shown in the medical room.

He straddled the snorting black bull then set about adjusting his grip on the rope with easy, deft movements. Only his hand held him on that beast. I knew none of the details about bull riding, only that I’d overheard it was called a rough stock event.Roughwas the definitely right word.