Pinch of Naughty by Gem Sivad Read Free Book Online Page A

night, commanding her attentions in ways never thought of before. Her thighs ached, her ribs were tender and her sexual center felt strangely hollow, as though hungry to be filled again.
    Grateful for the distraction the work afforded, Eleanor did the laundry, making a moue of distaste as she sorted through socks that needed darning, shirts without buttons and filthy denims.
     
    Cyrus frowned thoughtfully as he walked toward the barn. He’d come awake when she’d wiggled out from under him the night before. Figuring she was going to use the water closet and come back, he’d disposed of the filled rubber and played possum waiting for her return. Left alone, he’d leisurely stroked his cock, planning on seconds. She’d crept past the bedroom door and he’d listened to the stairs creak as she descended.
    It irritated him more in the light of day than it had last night. He saddled up and mounted, grinding his hard-on against the leather seat. Scowling, he gave the day’s orders. The men were more interested in the status of the cook than in work.
    “Hope you didn’t scare her off, boss,” Henley said.
    “What’d she call them things wrapped around cheese and ham?” Jake asked, then added, “I could eat a plate of ’em every morning and nothin’ else if you don’t run her off.”
    “You hired her, right?” It was Hank this time, chiming in with his own concern.
    “For God’s sake, it’s only food.” He nudged his horse into a trot, swearing under his breath, but it wasn’t her breakfast on his mind.
    In the dark, she’d been silent under him, only her soft gasps and sweet musk signaling her readiness as her liquid heat eased his way through her velvet folds. He wore her scratches underneath his shirt and every time the fabric pulled tight, his cock remembered the feel of her nails digging into his back as he rode her.
    But this morning she’d been Mrs. Prim ’n’ Proper again, staring at him from her smoky purple eyes and delivering her suggested amendments to their agreement. He wanted to go back and bury himself between her thighs. Instead he concentrated on business—fencing.
    It was late morning when he took a break. Jake sidled his horse close as Cyrus mopped sweat from his face. It was the housekeeper the foreman wanted to talk about, not the steers he was supposed to be rounding up.
    “In case anyone asks, you put your duds in the bunkhouse when she took up residence in the house. Right?”
    “She’s a respectable woman. Make sure that’s understood.” Early on, Cyrus had made it standard procedure to protect a woman’s reputation when she moved to the ranch. His ranch hands knew when to look the other way. If some of the women hadn’t been so discreet, well, that was their own fool problem.
    * * * * *
    As Cyrus approached the ranch house at dusk, the smell of fresh-baked bread greeted him and even as his steps quickened—as did the steps of every one of his crew—he recognized the fleeting nature of the experience. Mrs. Lacey was temporary help, a fact everyone needed to remember. But goddamn, great food was awe-inspiring. Eager to experience his new cook’s latest offering, he hustled to get to supper.
    “Wipe your feet,” he told the men, sending them to the front entrance as he headed for the back door. His lips twitched into a grin remembering the way Eleanor had faced him, mop in hand, protecting her territory earlier in the day.
    After supper, the dining hall emptied and she cleared the table for him to work on his ranch ledger. He did more thinking about her than his notations, working with half his brain while he kept an ear cocked toward the kitchen. The meal had been fine, the men were enthralled with the cook, and if he wanted to get rid of her, he’d have a rebellion on his hands.
    Every time he thought of her contentious stance on the bed the night before, arms crossed, hands fisted and ready for battle at the same time her nipples were waving at him, laughter rumbled