"How old are you?"
A shrill voice echoed in the living room from behind Gin. Ginni was having a relaxing day on the couch watching some of her favorite childhood movies. Ginni craned her neck to see who the intruder was, disturbing her peace. Beth had a tumbler full of liquor in one hand and her cell phone in the other.
"Old enough to drink." Gin shrugged, continuing her focus on 'The Road to El Dorado.' "Come, sit with me." She patted the cushion beside her as Beth decided to take a break from her busy schedule, pulling out her cigarettes and a lighter.
"Those fuckers look like Jamie and Kayce." The eldest sister gestured her right hand towards the television before placing a cancer stick in between her lips and lighting it, inhaling the cancerous fumes.
"Jesus, why do you have to ruin a good movie for me, now all I can see is those two shitheads." Gin snorted, trying to poke the bull sitting next to her.
"You cannot tell me, I'm wrong. Even the guy is as much of a pussy as Jamie." Her sister shrugged while taking a sip from her glass, then took a drag from her cancer stick.
"OK, fair."
After several minutes of silence, the eldest turned to the youngest Dutton. "Kayce's back. Dad is pushing him to take over since... Lee." She chided. "I find it to be bullshit, he's never on the property and since his little wifey left, Dad's been sniffing up his ass again."
"I knew he was back. Didn't know Monica left him. He's been in the bunkhouse for a few days, now." Gin didn't really care about her brother's marital problems or that he was back. He left when Gin had just turned sixteen, to start a family and join the military. She didn't have resentment towards him; however he was almost a stranger until Gin begged him to let her visit him on the reservation. After that, she would try to come to Montana to visit them. When Beth came up to see their father and convinced Lee to sneak away and visit with his youngest sister.
"Didn't go retrieve cattle today?" Beth changed the subject of her brother and moved on to work.
"Nah, my flare-ups have been really bad these last couple of days. It's calm today, but I'm exhausted." Ginni hated her flares, she felt as if she drank an entire bottle of Jim Beam, followed by two Adios Mother Fuckers, all while completely sober. If she wasn't getting dizzy, she was either too hot, too cold, or enough brain fog to forget her ABCs on some days. It was miserable. With her meds, all of her symptoms were dulled.
"Understandable. Travis and his boys are up here. Bet he would love to see your pretty face." Beth doused the cigarette in an empty candy dish on the coffee table.
"I'm sure he would." Gin rolled her eyes. You could say she and Travis crossed paths a few times. "Daddy here?"
"Yeah, he's in the office. He should still be in there." Beth stood up from the couch, straightened her dress with her hands and slinked her purse over her shoulder. "Well kid, I gotta go. Gotta make big bucks off of big shmucks."
"See ya." Ginni lazily waved her hand while continuing to watch her movie. She knew she needed to get up and do something for the day. Reluctantly Ginni rose from the comfort of the couch, her body feeling heavy as she stretched her tired muscles. With a sense of determination, she snatched the remote from the table, forcefully shutting off the incessant noise emanating from the television. Upstairs, the world of transformation awaited her, where she could shed the weight of the day and emerge revitalized. Her raven hair, trapped in a disheveled ponytail since yesterday, crying out for a touch of tenderness. Her face felt burned with the weight of the world, suffocating under the layers of the greasiness that tainted her spirit. She paused for a moment contemplating her next move, perhaps it was time to venture down to the arena to immerse herself in the presence of others. To see what the bustling world beyond her own realm had to offer. And yet, a sense of apprehension welled up within her as she thought about encountering Travis and his band of misfits from the infamous Four-6s.
Travis used to come around when she was a teen. He never really gave her a passing glance then. However, about six months after Nicholas was taken to the train station, they ran into each other at The Westerner in Salt Lake. In that fateful encounter, they found themselves engaged in a fierce battle of cues and balls, as if competing for the remnants of the past they never shared. At that particular moment, Ginni found herself caught up in the relentless whirlwind of trying to make ends meet and compensate for her previously lost wages. Yet, being involved in this classified profession was far from a walk in the park. A tiny dancer and a lady of the night, Genevieve slayed her way through the religious city.
Amid the chaos, a close friend from work introduced her to the infamous Madame who orchestrated the clandestine world of a massage ring. It seemed like a quick and effortless way to earn some extra cash- that was the agreement she struck with herself and her job. Erotic rubdowns are not the most saint-like profession. But it paid the bills and made others happy with themselves.
Since that night at the Westerner and Travis dropping two thousand dollars to receive a buff job from John Dutton's youngest daughter, he's been regularly making short runs to Salt Lake for a very much-needed sale.
~ Ryan's Point of View ~
The sun's rays began to beat down on the cowboy's backs as they bopped and weaved their horses through the sea of bovine. Ryan, Jake, Travis, Kayce, and Rip worked their way cutting the steer from the heifers. It was insemination day.
Mr. Dutton kept the bulls at bay while Avory manned the heifer Shute and Jimmy watched the intake gate. Eight hundred down, two hundred left in the mix. Ryan used the back of his forearm to wipe the sweat from his brow, he was grateful for the job. But it had its days.
The sound of metal crashing as the bulls broke loose from the separation pen. "Keep those Bulls from the cows!" Jake called.
"Move! Move!" Rip bellowed as he made a pin turn in the dust. " Hey! Bulls!" Each one of the tenured cowboys used their horses to form a barricade between the male and female bovine. "Jimmy get up here!" Rip's voice echoed over the thundering sounds of the herd. "Get ready to close that fucking gate!"
Everything was happening so quickly around the men. Bulls snorting and bellowing, aiming to charge for the cows. Jimmy disputed his orders while whining as Ryan continued to back the massive beast into a corner.
"They're angry!"
"No shit they're angry. Their job's to fuck, Jimmy!" Rip's voice thundered over the noise. "And they ain't fucked in six months. Better grow eyes on the back of your head with these bastards!"
Jimmy finally had the latch locked tight, ensuring the bulls no longer escaped. Ryan shook his head. He was also grateful he was no longer a greenhorn and didn't succumb to Rip's wrath when it came to common sense. He decided it was best to perch himself to where he could overlook the entire arena. But also, to be the first to see Genevieve, if she decided to descend the hill from the lodge. He had not seen her in a few days, which was causing a sense of longing for her to be around. He couldn't explain the feeling he was having. Definitely not love. He's been in love before, this wasn't love. Maybe infatuation.
But whatever it was... Ryan was not sure how to handle it, this woman was evading his dreams, his spare thoughts. He wondered what she was dreaming about, what her deepest fears were. Ryan wanted to know everything.
"Ryan!" His name being called jarred him from his thoughts. "Get over there and help Lloyd count the heifers," Rip demanded as he trotted his horse to where John Dutton overlooked his legacy.
Ryan nodded his head until he saw a flash of hot pink make its way down to the arena from the massive house that overlooked Paradise valley. He couldn't help but pause and disobey the foreman's orders. She looked ravishing in the glow of the sun. Her ravenous hair swayed behind her with each step she made. She wore black Ray-Ban's to shield her light eyes from the sun's UVB rays. A Hot Pink tank top stretched around her breasts, accentuating the two globes that spilled over the neckline. Tight polished leather pants encased her thighs and ass, emphasizing each earth-shattering movement. She was a goddess. The very Succubae of this very ranch. Beth is pretty, but nothing compares to the creamy touch of Genevieve Dutton. Ryan's mouth began to water as he continued to gander at the girl. Once again, gaining the frustrated attention of his superior.
"God damn it, Ryan!" Rip's thunderous voice boomed once more. "If I have to ask you again, so help me god, Ryan, I will knock your ass into next week."
This startled Ryan out of his daydream. His mind couldn't help but slip to the trip up to the lake with the Dutton Queen.
"Yes sir, sorry."
"Get movin!" Rip circled around on his horse. "You three!" He gestured to Jimmy, Colby and Avery. "Go help the vet get set up for insemination."
Ryan trotted his horse to where Lloyd was stationed.
"Kid, you really got to be on your toes." Lloyd quipped as Ryan sat himself parallel.
"How'd you figure?" He gave the old man a side eye while he attempted to focus on his duties.
"You didn't start fucking off until Miss Ginni exited the lodge." Lloyd jerked his head towards Genevieve, who was now laughing at something her father had said. Her smile dazzled the arena. Ryan caught himself losing focus again. "See what I mean?" The old man chuckled.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lloyd?" Ryan shrugged off the accusations as if they were not true.
"Yeah? How many cows just gone through?"
"Ugh..."
Ryan was caught.
"22?"
"Jesus Christ, kid." The seasoned cowboy snickered. "38." He shook his head, before pulling the reigns to turn his horse towards the arena gate. "Just go with the flow on this one. Rip is severely protective of not just the Duttons, but specifically her. Ever since he came to the ranch." He suggested. " Let her be her, and everything will come out in the wash."
That being said, Lloyd cantered away. Ryan shook his head and continued to 'count' the separation from cows and bulls.
"Old ass cynic." Ryan clicked his tongue signaling his horse to move.
~ Ginni's Point of View ~
"Do you think we will have a successful season?" Ginni asked her father, while she leaned her back against the post arm folded across her chest and ankles crossed over each other.
"Hard saying." Her father scoffed, with a loud snort. "As long as the cows take the insemination and nothing happens to the herd till spring, We should triple the profit."
"That's a fair speculation." Ginni shrugged. "Who was the pretty blond that followed you out the door?"
"You saw that?" Her father chuckled, not realizing his youngest daughter was descending the stairs when her fault escorted the young lady out of the lodge. "Your sister believes she would be the best candidate against your brother for Attorney General."
"You're kiddin'? Beth is determined to beat Jamie? Why am I not surprised." Ginni shook her head and kicked a stone with her boot. "Look I'm going to take Vegas for a run real quick."
Before her father could say anything, Genevieve walked off to the stables.
While she was gathering the tack for the Gypsy Vanner, the sound of dirt crunched under someone's weight, but not ten feet from the girl. Her body stiffened as the hair on the back of her neck raised. She paused with her fists tightly wound around the leather.
"Hey, gorgeous. Couldn't come say Hi to me?" Travis. Gin knew that West Texas drawl anywhere. Knowing who had approached her, allowed her to drop her guard and relax a bit.
"Hello Travis, Sorry... I'm in an odd head space today, ya know?" Ginni grinned, while they stood mere inches from each other.
"Mmmm... Anything I can do to clear your mind?" He tucked a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear as a devilish grin painted itself across his handsomely tanned face.
She snorted, "You know what we did was transactional." She turned on her toes and walked to Vegas' paddock.
"How much will it cost for a quick ride in the hay loft?" He followed close behind, so close that Gin could feel the moisture from his breath.
She couldn't believe he said that so loudly. "Jesus Travis, say it louder so my father can hear ya." Gin hissed.
"Ooh... are you telling me, Daddy doesn't know?"
"No... And if he finds out, you're dead." She grinned at him while opening the paddock. Gin proceeded to close the gate before Travis' strong hand stopped it from latching. He swung his form around the gate and then latched it behind him while he entered the single stall.
"Mmm... You know, I like the challenge." He stood behind her placing his hands on hers, slipping his fingers around the leather tack, and taking the straps from her limp and nimble fingers and placing them on the rails. "Or, maybe, just a quicky for old time's sake." He placed his hot mouth on the nape of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent.
"Travis," She breathed. "We'll get caught."
God this was not fair, this man was so hot, you could cook bacon on his abs. He made Gin wetter than Niagara Falls even if he paid her thousands just for this.
"I don't care." He muttered, while sinking his perfect teeth into her burning flesh, causing the woman's hips to buck backward into his already throbbing groin. A moan escaped his throat while he reached into the waistband of her leather pants and pushed her against the support beam of the railing while rubbing her clitoris in tiny pleasurable circles. Ginni released a soft moan, giving into his woes; throwing her head back, she grinds her hips against his straining member. Travis swiftly plunged two fingers into her aching opening.
"Eh hem..." A baritone voice cleared itself as the owner attempted to get both of the preoccupied being's attention. Ginni's eyes shot up to lock with Rip's chocolate brown eyes. His posture revealed that this was an awkward moment for him. But his eyes burned with a longing for passion and bleeding with lust, or was it jealousy?
Instantly the two pulled away from each other.
"Uh... Mr. Dutton was looking for you Travis. Looks like your boys are almost ready to leave to beat the storm." Rip kicked dirt around.
"Yeah, thanks Rip." Travis walked out of the stall. "See ya around, Gin." He tilted his head, then exited the barn without another word.
Gin shot a quick glare at the foreman, lifting a finger up to her lips as an indication to shush him. "I will rip your balls off with my bare hands if you say a word."
"Wasn't gonna." The smirk he smugly wore grew bigger as Gin flipped her long black hair towards him. She decided that a ride was not in her schedule today. Besides, it looked like it was about to rain, Rip did mention it was going to storm, which was confirmed by the wind picking up. Rip followed her silently while she proceeded to put Vegas' tack away. He watched her every move how gracefully her fingers wrapped around the hoof oil and the grooming brush. Neither of them said a word while she tediously groomed her beloved Vanner with such care.
"What exactly do you want Rip?" The young Dutton cocked an eyebrow as she knelt beside the horse to check his shoes for any debris or damages. Her pants dipped low as a bright pink thong rose with the curves of her lower back and full hips. Rip swallowed fiercely, his eyes were locked on the tiny, fabric.
"Uh..." He swallowed again. "What?" He shook his head to erase the vulgar thoughts that evaded brain.
"What do you want?" Ginni stood up, turned, then placed her hands on her hips. Covering the very item Rip wanted to pull off with his teeth.
"I...Uh..." He cleared his throat, "Kayce left, and there looks to be a storm rolling in. You up to help secure everything?"
"How's the sorting going?" Gin knew they were still going through the herd, separating the heifers from the bulls.
"They're just about done, which is why I need your help." Rip shrugged then turned away to walk out of the barn. Gin shook her head then walked to the opposite side of the barn to lock and secure the south door. Then the other door, leaving it unlocked to allow the other wranglers to put away their tack and horses. Then it was off to the armory and fields.
By the time she and Rip were almost finished the wranglers were done with the sorting, herding the cattle into their respective pastures, and putting their horses away. The rain was flooding the paths and roadways. They all scattered into the bunk house to shower off the mud and sweat from their aching bodies. Jimmy was the last to trot off after helping his superiors secure the gate.
"That's it! Let's go!" Rip yelled over the pounding storm.
The two stomped through the mud, both soaked from head to toe. "Follow me, I'll make some coffee." Rip bellowed. His voice carried above the torrential downpour. He trekked through the mud down the path towards his cabin, Ginni followed tightly wrapping her arms around her body, attempting to get herself warm now that her heart rate slowed down from helping Rip.
He stopped several yards ahead, waiting for Genevieve to catch up to him. Tiny puddles of water pooled in the brim of his hat, cascading in front of his face. The rain was not going to let up.
"Travis? Really?"
Ginni was not but five feet from where he was standing.
"Of all people? Ginni? Jesus Christ."
Gin was taken aback by this sudden outburst from the foreman. "The hell do you mean?" Rainwater dripped down the length of her nose, dropping off of the metal piercings that adorned her face. She was cold and shivering. The vinyl pants chafing and sticking to her skin. She was in no mood to deal with his emotions. Maybe once the two got out of the cold rain and she had a cup of coffee in her hand and her boots off. She could feel her socks squishing between her toes and her senses overloading.
"In the fucking barn! What the fuck, Gin!"
"Rip, I don't want to talk about this right now!" She walked past him. "So let's get inside and warm up. Either we can go to your cabin or walk triple the distance to the lodge."
"Fuck! Fine!" The foreman stomped towards Gin, giving her the notion that they would seek shelter in his cabin. On their mission, Gin tried to process what just happened in her brain over and over again. She could not understand why he was so pissed off about earlier. They're not dating. They've only fucked once, the flirting the other day was nothing but consensual and platonic, right?
Rip unlocked the French doors and kicked it open. He pulled a lighter from his pocket, small puddles beneath his boots formed as he approached a round dining room table. On top of the antique table sat a glass oil lamp. The cowboy pulled off the bulb from the basin, turned the tiny brass knob to give the woven wick some length. With his calloused thumb, he struck the lighter igniting the wick. Allowing it to burst and then settle into a brightly glowing flame. Placing the bulb back onto the oil basin. He turned to Gin who stood on the wet mat, dripping onto the floor.
"Take off your boots there, I'll find you something warm." He grumbled as he followed his own orders peeling off his own water-logged footwear.
Rip disappeared down a hallway and in through a door to the left. Ginni wrapped her arms around her body, attempting to control the shivering. Her blue eyes wandered the quaint cabin. It was small, maybe a good six hundred square feet. One side had a love seat, a coffee table lamp, and a side table. Then the dining room table, kitchenette, and wood-burning stove loitered on the other side of the open space.
Rip emerged from what Gin assumed was his bedroom, carrying a towel and what looked to be navy blue sweatpants, wool socks, and a thick flannel shirt. "If uh... You want to shower, it's the door to the right," he said in an almost submissive voice.
"Thank you." Ginni grabbed the clothes swiftly. "I should be okay for now; but if you need to, just let me change and you can shower." Ginni didn't want him to feel obligated about having to keep her company. He has been working all day out on the ranch, and on top of being soaked by the downpour. He had to have felt muddy and musty.
"Right. Okay. I'll get a fire started." He knelt in front of the iron stove and opened the door to scoop out the ash with a small brass shovel that that sat with a completed hearth tool set.
Gin nodded her head then tip-toed across the hardwood floor to the bathroom. The room was small. A stand-up shower in one corner, a toilet in the other, and a small floating sink, with a small side table filled with the Cowboy's toiletries: razor, shaving cream, a bottle of 1776 Elsha cologne, deodorant comb, and a small cup that held his toothbrush and toothpaste. He was a simple man.
Gin had not been inside this cabin for years, at least a good few years before she left. She was roughly fifteen when she last crossed the threshold of the Ben Cook cabin. It was the same day her father asked Rip to move into it. The sweat was slightly big on Gin, barely hanging on the edge of her hip bones, while the flannel shirt drowned her. The fabric was soft against her chilled skin, Gin ran her nimble fingers over the material, grasping the collar and pulling it up to her nose, inhaling the familiar scent that was specific to Rip. Cedar, wild grass and musk evaded her senses as her lips curled into an erotic smirk. A moan quietly escaped her lips as she relished this small opportunity.
Bringing herself back to reality, Gin cleared her throat smoothing over the large shirt and opening the oak door to let herself out of the bathroom. Rip was kneeling before the fire, but this time a flame was flickering in the belly of the cast iron stove. He was using his breath to ignite the embers in the kindle, allowing it to light the larger pieces of wood. Not to mention, he had also taken off his shirt.
Gin's heart skipped a beat as her gaze swept across the tanned, sinewy physique that enveloped him so effortlessly. A surge of emotion welled up within her, causing a lump to form in her throat. Each muscle, meticulously sculpted and defined, seemed to radiate an irresistible allure. The soft gleam of perspiration, sparkling like precious diamonds, adorned every ridge, further enhancing his mesmerizing presence. Gin's mouth grew dry, inhibiting her from forming even the mousiest of sound. She tantalized the thought of walking up to him and placing her mouth between his shoulders, running her tongue down the length of his spine, savoring his sweet and salty essence. Groaning internally, Gin wrapped the flannel tighter around her form. Sucking air through her teeth, she couldn't tear her eyes away as she witnessed him rise from his kneeling position, his muscles gracefully contorting into their rightful posture.
Jesus.
She wanted to sink her teeth into that beautiful slab of meat. Clearing her throat, grabbing Rip's attention, who turned on his heel with a percolator in one hand and its lid in the other.
"They fit okay?" He asked, masking the fact she startled him. He walked over to the tiny sink to fill the tin basin. He pulled out the coffee chamber to fill it with coffee grounds that sat in a latch jar on the small counter. Generously, he scooped the grounds with a 1/4 measuring cup, placed the lid on the chamber, situated it on the hollow tube, and then placed both pieces into the water chamber. He capped the pot and placed it on the stove.
"Yeah, they're fine, thanks." Gin smiled brightly; she didn't understand why she felt awkward. She has known Rip for years. They both have seen each other naked, hell, Rip saw her topless but not two days ago. That couldn't be the reason. Maybe, it was due to how vulnerable they both were in this situation. Rip has never had anyone in his cabin. John would stop no further than the threshold and no cowboy dared to even step foot on the short patio that attached itself to the main entrance. This was Rip's sanctuary. His quiet place to shed the tough exterior he presents when out in the world. This was the Rip she knew. Who grew up on Batman comics and Merrill Haggard. Aside Gin assumed he had never revealed to her sister, who's always so vapid and self-absorbed that forced everyone to be on their toes around her.
"Um... Shower's free." Gin hitched her thumb behind her.
'No shit, we are the only people here.' Gin mentally scolded herself. She is a dancer for Christ's sake, there is no reason for her to be acting like a virgin on her first date.
"Yeah... Uh, thanks. I should be out in about fifteen minutes." Rip brushed past her. The salty scent of his sweat mixed with rain and smoke blasted Gin's face like a draft coming through a crack in an old window. Inhaling deeply, she allowed her pale blue eyes to follow the acting Forman, who disappeared into the bathroom. "Make yourself at home." He hollered before shutting the door with a heavy thud.
Welp.
This was awkward. It will be several minutes until the water would boil and saturate the grounds, making a delicious brew. The pipes creaked, giving the indication that the dirty cowboy turned on the faucet of the shower, and water was rushing through the copper tubes. Genevieve clicked her tongue as her eyes wandered the cabin. She tiptoed her way towards the sofa, anxiety bubbled in the pit of her stomach as Ryan crossed her mind. She oddly felt guilty, even though her and Rip has not done anything. She still had a feeling of remorse swelling in her heart. She really couldn't care for Beth's feelings, that woman had little remorse in anything she did.
But, Ryan...
He was a good soul, quick witted and was an incredible fuck. But, he's been severely busy and she too, has needs. Plus, she was a Dutton; she couldn't fuck any random cowboy in Montana. She needed to make herself appear available, but never be available while dancing. Besides, she had high standards, and it was amusing to spite her father behind his back. She's been doing it her entire life, so why stop now?
As her fingertips grazed the intricate stitches of the Afghan her great grandmother lovingly knit eighty years ago, a surge of emotion swept over her. The once vibrant navy-blue yarn had softened over time, now resembling a faded denim blue. This simple blanket held within it the threads of her family's history, a tangible reminder of the generations that had come before her. Every corner of this ranch held a piece of their legacy, a connection that transcended time and bound them together in a tapestry of love and memories. However, her father had told Ginni that her mother insisted on an upgrade with the appliances and kitchen. Her father compromised with brand new saddles, bridles, and other various equipment, that needed to be replaced. He told her they spent two million dollars just the year after she was born on it.
She meandered to the oak bookshelf that stood against the wall opposite from the door. There were a few books, but the one thing that did catch her eye was the framed polaroid of the two of them.
Ginni smiled at the memory.
"Rip...!" Gin ran over to the younger cowboy who had his back turned, heading to the truck. "You won't forget me, will you?"
He bus was about to leave. She couldn't afford the cost of a plane or train ticket. The driver had just barely stuffed the last bit of luggage in the storage compartment.
"You know I won't." He kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. "You be safe kid."
"You know I will." Ginni began to rummage through her carry-on and pulled out a large Polaroid camera. Without hesitation, she tossed her arm around his shoulder and pulled him in close to where their foreheads nearly touched. "Say cheese!"
She pressed the button, and a flash emitted from the device, after a few seconds a tiny square piece of paper emerged from the slot in the bottom of the camera.
"Last call!" The bus driver looked directly at Gin, giving the impression that the warning was for her.
"Here, don't touch this part," She handed him the image that was still developing. "I must go." She stood up on her tiptoes, kissed his cheek then left Montana for the next six years.
"What you doin'?"
Rip's voice startled the Dutton girl, she turned on her toes only to come face to face with a very tanned, very toned, and very wet wrangler.
Oh. My. God. Ginni's throat instantly became dry as she raked her eyes over his body from head to toe. Rip only wore the fluffy towel he originally left for her, loosely slinking around his hips. Muscular dad bod. Oh lord is that the kryptonite for eighty percent of the female US population.
Ginni subconsciously bit her lip. She couldn't take her eyes off him.
The percolator rattled fiercely, signifying that the coffee was bubbling over. This took Genevieve from her hypnotic trance.
"I didn't think you still had this?" She picked up the photo to show him what she was referring to too. She could see the cowboy's cheeks deepened as he scratched the back of his head and shyly adverted his eyes to the floor.
"Yeah." He chuckled then turned on his heels to take the coffee from the stove as it was beginning to seep onto the scalding surface, sizzling into steam. He sat the hot pot on a turret and walked over to the cupboard. As he reached up to grab two mugs, the towel around his hips slipped below his left butt cheek. Revealing the cleft of his ass and a glimpse of the other side.
Oh. My. All muscle.
This time, Genevieve bit her bottom lip to suppress the moan that was aching to escape. Jesus Christ. She was in trouble, and she knew it. Rip placed the mug on the counter, tugged up and over his hips, and then reached for the second one and placed it on the tiny counter as well. Facing the wall, he opened the towel and readjusted the cloth against his hips, and fastened it in a tight fold to prevent it from falling, while he used both hands to grab ahold of the two ceramic mugs and bring them to where he sat the percolator on the trivet. The Dutton woman did everything in her power as a woman, to not pounce on him like a feral mountain lion stalking their prey. Why did he make her so ravenous, so hungry for his touch? Maybe it was because Ginni knew it would piss off her sister. Maybe it is the way he held himself when he was around the other wranglers. The difference between Rip and Ryan was that Rip had put her family before his own safety. He showed his loyalty time and time again. While Ryan, he was still a greenhorn. He hasn't quite developed the trust and loyalty that is entailed when it comes to the ranch.
Not that it really mattered, it's not like Rip would make the move to sleep with her. He was a gentleman at the proper moments.
After filling the cups with coffee, he picked them both up and walked over to Gin handing her one of the mugs. The hot ceramic warmed her fingers as she wrapped her hands around it, savoring the heat it emitted.
"I'm sorry, I don't have any cream or sugar." Rip shrugged, still shirtless and sporting the towel. He sipped his own black coffee after giving Ginni hers.
"It's not a problem. I enjoy my coffee dark and thick." Ginni grinned while taking a sip herself. The coffee tasted as if the grounds sat a while and became stale. As expected, some of the granules bypassed the filter. Giving it a bit of a smoky grit.
Without another word, Rip disappeared into the hallway leaving Ginni once again to process her thoughts.
Thank you so much for you patience with this chapter. I have gone through a bit of a rough patch these last few months and have been busy with everything. However, I'm still here, and still writing!
Thank you all again, please feel free to write a comment, vote etc.