Roped and Ridden Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Angelique Voisen

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-647-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Jessica Ruth

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  As always, this goes out to my readers. I hope you enjoy Barrett and Leo’s story.

  ROPED AND RIDDEN

  Romance on the Go TM

  Angelique Voisen

  Copyright © 2015

  Prologue

  “Didn’t you know? Toby’s been fucking three or four other subs whenever you’re out working during the day, or when you’re out of town. Wake up, Barrett.” Rory’s words from the night before reverberated through Barrett’s head. They turned into a mantra as the hours ticked off, making it impossible to do any real work at the office. He numbly glanced at his desktop. The numbers on the report looked incomprehensible. Then he took a long look around the gray-and-black corporate profiles of the office interior with colleagues in designer suits weaving around cubicles. He snorted in disgust.

  What the fuck am I doing here?

  Everything looked so fucking dull and normal it made Barrett hurl. Suffocating. He loosened his tie, the tie Master Toby gave him last Christmas, but it didn’t help. He tore the dark purple fabric off in one jerk and tossed it into the garbage bin by his desk.

  Shit. He’d probably regret that later on.

  “Rory lied. The asshole,” Barrett whispered, except Rory had no reason to lie.

  Rory had been his best friend since high school. They’d torn the skins off their knuckles together, blooding bullies who called them faggots. Hell, they continued to watch each other’s back whenever one of them did a scene at the local BDSM club they frequented, even though Barrett had been in a 24/7 relationship with Toby for almost a year.

  Barrett had been doing scenes with Toby even longer. Years of trusting Toby to push him to his limits cemented the solid foundation that made up their relationship. Rory repeatedly warned Barrett dating a dominant shifter was suicide, because shifters preferred their own kind, but Barrett proved him wrong.

  “Barrett, Chris wants that report on his desk before lunch,” Larry, one of Barrett’s colleagues, said, passing by his cubicle.

  The report Barrett hadn’t even started yet. How could he, after Rory unloaded that bullshit on him? No way he was going to be able to focus on work, let alone function properly like a normal human being at this rate.

  “Hey, Larry. Tell Chris I need to take care of an emergency.”

  “What emergency? Hey, Barrett, where are you going?” Larry called after him, but Barrett had already grabbed his bag and was on his way to the elevator.

  He hardly remembered getting into his car, breaking the speed limits, then getting a ticket for the first time. Barrett had always been a careful driver. It was one of the things Toby liked about him. Barrett drove the way he tackled life—analyzing a problem from every angle before making a decision. He applied the same philosophy in his relationships.

  Take one step at a time, go slow, and end up being the poor sucker people take advantage of.

  “Shouldn’t be thinking like this. Rory made a mistake,” he muttered to himself, vaguely aware he sounded like some paranoid madman talking to himself. “I’m going to head home, confront Toby. Tell Rory he was a damn idiot.”

  Trust didn’t come easily to Barrett. Raised in a single-parent household in small mining town, Barrett had spent most of his time alone, wondering why his father left. His drug-addicted mother, who brought home a different man each night, didn’t bother giving him any answers.

  Together with Rory, Barrett ran away from home when one of his mother’s boyfriends decided to pay his room a visit. Toby knew his history. Heck. They’d done the uncomfortable talk. Barrett told him more of himself and opened up the armor around his heart for Toby.

  Why would Toby betray that trust?

  Still, a bad feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, festering like a wound about to go bad. It was the same dread Barrett felt when Hank McGee drunkenly stumbled into his bedroom. If Barrett hadn’t slept with the .22 Colt Rory stole from his own dad to lend Barrett, Hank would have gotten what he came for and Barrett would end up spending more time with his therapist. He parked by the curb and practically sprinted into the apartment building. Watching the sluggish numbers of the lone elevator, Barrett’s patience fizzled. Cursing softly under his breath, he took the stairs all the way to the eighth floor. By the time he reached the fifth, his knees shook and his front and back were coated with sweat. He staggered into the familiar corridor of their floor, panting like an animal.

  If this was really a pointless exercise, why did he put so much effort into it?

  Something about the welcome doormat to their unit nagged at him. The closer he studied it, the more he noticed the slightly upturned angle and the dark footprints that hadn’t been there when he’d left for work that morning. He leaned his head against the front door, wondering why he didn’t pull out his key. Maybe Toby wasn’t in. Toby worked remotely from home for a mega software company. He could be out running, or working at a café.

  Soft music played from inside, dampening Barrett’s short-lived hope.

  Nothing to worry about. Toby liked hearing music when he worked on his latest software. The sound of another man’s laugh froze Barrett in place. Toby had company. Any other man would burst in, seeking an explanation.

  The sucker—the fucking coward—that Barrett was, he simply stood there, eavesdropping. He heard Toby’s authoritative and firm voice, and the second male’s pleading voice, probably wishing to make amends. Was the sub another shifter, more flexible and with more endurance than Barrett?

  How often had Toby driven Barrett to his knees, demanding his obedience? Made him feel special, transported to a world different from reality? In that space, Toby made him feel safe, wanted, and special. Now, all Barrett felt was barren and numbed. He stared at the smooth grain of wood, cracked his knuckles, then silently counted to ten in his head. The best thing to do was calm the fuck down, and regroup.

  He’d confront Toby about what he heard when he got home. Break up amiably, without the accusations, mess, or violence. Make it very clean and civilized. Barrett was nearly in his thirties and Toby in his late thirties. That was what adults did.

  Besides, Toby could easily rip his arm out with his supernatural strength. Although Toby had never used his fists, claws or teeth on him in anger, Barrett had been with Toby long enough to see him lose his temper.

  “Thank you for being my Dom, for showing me the ropes, but I think it’s about time we both moved on,” Barrett could imagine saying. Except Toby had moved on without telling him and had probably been bringing subs back to their fucking apartment for God knew how long.

  “Fuck civilized.” Barrett fished for his key with shaking hands, then walked in.

  The logical and practical part of him reminded him to count to ten again. Mitigate the damage, or somehow contain it. After all, Toby and he had created wonderful memories together, took the same journey in the dark, with Toby leading him, blindfolded, bound and leashed. Maybe they could still fix this. Fix them. Root out the problem. Besides, a human confronting a shifter or two wasn’t the wisest decisi
on in the world.

  Fury washed over him when he caught sight of Toby sitting on the couch. Toby had a naked, younger guy who looked like he was in his twenties bent over his lap.

  “Barrett, you’re home early,” Toby said with obvious surprise.

  The fucker didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed or guilty. Barrett clenched and unclenched his fists, but he couldn’t remember what number he was at. He saw red and snapped.

  Chapter One

  The dark-haired fucker was huge. Could’ve passed for a ranch hand with his muscles and tan, but Leo knew otherwise. Every inch of Barrett screamed city slicker, outsider and unwanted company. His rumpled suit and trousers gave him away. So did his clean and manicured hands that had never seen an honest day of work under the sun. Just the sort of man Leo mistrusted and loved to hate. He bet the broad shoulders, arms and chest had been the by-product of hitting a pricey gym a couple of times a week.

  By rights Leo should’ve turned him away. Hell. Lee and Lucas, his brothers, would’ve taken the sawed-off shotgun hanging in the kitchen to get him off the property if he persisted, maybe even flash claws and canines and give the bastard a rude awakening about toying with the supernatural. Have a laugh about it later on.

  Of course, Leo’s brothers had better sense than he. Always did. All Leo ever saw was the outside package—body, ass and face. See if the bastard was worth a roll or two in the hay.

  Barrett Graham would certainly look like sheer temptation naked, sweaty, his entire body splayed open, dusky skin bound tightly in rope. He’d look fucking exquisite with a gag on him while he glared at Leo with his hooded, wolfish eyes. Barrett suddenly stiffened, as if he could see the wheels turning in Leo’s head.

  Leo tipped up his Stetson, showing off a toothy grin. Leo wondered if Barrett had any clue the kind of perverse thoughts he harbored.

  “What kind of name is Barrett anyway?” Leo asked, eager to push him.

  Barrett sighed, like he’d heard the question a thousand times. “My dad liked guns.”

  “Ever worked at a ranch before?” Leo asked.

  Barrett stole a quick glance around the property—the fences, the dirt road, the barn. They stood at the porch of the house Leo’s brothers and he shared. No doubt Barrett wondered why Leo hadn’t invited him in to talk details. It was a quick glance. Barrett shifted one polished leather shoe.

  A nervous gesture, perhaps?

  Barrett bit his lip. “No, but I helped around my grandfather’s farm when I was younger.”

  “Ranching is a little different from farming.” Leo did his best not to sound too amused, but Barrett picked up on his tone. “How should I put it? It’s a large-scale livestock operation. You’ll be working with three other hands.”

  “I know what ranching is.” Barrett took a deep breath. “I learn fast and people say I’m a hard worker.”

  “People? What sort? Desk-bound pencil pushers? Suits?” Good Lord. It should be a sin how much Leo was getting a kick out of this exchange.

  “I know how I look, but I didn’t have time to change.”

  Leo glanced over his shoulder to peek at Barrett’s beat-up Mercedes. He spied the hastily packed duffel bags shoved in the backseat and scented the lingering smell of blood. In fact, when Leo looked closer, he saw tiny red spots here and there on Barrett’s shirt. Smelled the recent hurts on him and knew if he ordered Barrett to strip he’d find bruises, scratches and the evidence of a recent fight.

  Leo narrowed his eyes. “You running from something, or someone? Authorities, maybe? We don’t welcome trouble here, or harbor fugitives.”

  Jesus. The new knowledge this human came with some unexpected bite to him only made Leo want him even more. Barrett wasn’t just ornamental eye candy. Taming him would be a hell of a challenge, and Leo couldn’t remember the last time he had that. A worthy prize.

  “Nothing like that,” Barrett said quickly.

  “What, then?” Leo asked curiously.

  “Life. I kinda blew up after walking in on my live-in Dom fucking another sub. Lover.” Barrett corrected himself at the last second, as if afraid he had revealed too much. “So I packed my bags and said goodbye to the fucker and to my stupid firm at the city.”

  Was he in a 24/7 relationship with this Dom? Barrett had just upgraded himself from good-looking and interesting prey to Leo’s had-to-fuck conquest list.

  Barrett shook his head, clearly not eager to share any more details about his personal life. It didn’t matter, though. The possibility of driving Barrett to his knees, seeing him at his most vulnerable, and finally pushing him to spilling his secrets instantly gave Leo a hard-on. No way Leo was letting him go now.

  “The point is, I’m not in trouble with the law,” Barrett eventually said.

  “Pay’s mediocre. The work’s hard and exhausting with little rewards. It’s kind of like a jack-of-all-trades type of work and it isn’t for everyone.” Especially not some city slicker in a suit, Leo didn’t add. A pissed-off Barrett, sweltering in the summer heat in his suit, painted a pretty picture. He scowled at Leo. He played right into Leo’s hands, because Leo got such a kick out of provoking him. Leo didn’t give a shit about what his brothers thought. In his mind, he’d already hired Barrett, and he would be putting him hard at work. If the arrangement wouldn’t work, then Leo would just have to put up another advertisement at the local grocer and town hall.

  “I know what I’m getting into,” Barrett asserted.

  You clearly don’t, but you seem determined enough.

  “Please. Give me a chance,” Barrett finally pleaded.

  “Please. I like the sound of that word on your lips, Barrett.” Leo stuck out a hand.

  Barrett dubiously eyed Leo’s hand for a fraction of second before hesitantly shaking it. Leo didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he tightened his grip, letting Barrett feel the strength in his fingers. Barrett emitted a sound, not one of protest but a little, surprised gasp. His gaze drifted up to Leo’s. He looked a little confused, reminding Leo of a pup no one wanted. Slightly lost, but Leo let him in on his little secret. Gave Barrett a glimpse of the dirty deeds he would like to do to him.

  What would it be like to see Barrett’s pupils dilate with pleasure, his lips slightly parted, begging to receive what Leo had to give him?

  “You’re hired. Welcome to Wolf Ranch, Barrett Graham.” Leo released his hand and avoided smirking when Barrett stared at it a few seconds.

  He straightened up. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this.”

  “Already calling me sir?” Seeing the flush creeping up the man’s neck, Leo had to chuckle. “If you aren’t keen on finding a place in town, you can bunk in with Raul, another ranch hand. He’s currently sleeping in the guest bedroom of the house.”

  “That’s—” He hesitated, then met Leo’s eyes again. “Perfect. Thank you.”

  “You shouldn’t be thanking me yet. Who knows? You might not even last three days here.”

  Barrett’s jaw clenched. “I intend to prove you wrong.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Chapter Two

  “Bastard wasn’t kidding around when he mentioned this was a jack-of-all-trades kind of work,” Barrett muttered under his breath.

  That day alone, aside from his usual duties, Barrett had helped another hand, Raul, at birthing a calf. What an eye-opener, especially for a city boy who had never been around animals much. He’d learned far too much about animal husbandry.

  Barrett then spent the rest of the afternoon fixing up the fence around the property. Leo hadn’t been kidding around that it was backbreaking work. Barrett had been tempted to throw in the towel a couple of times. Say “screw it” and hand in his resignation. Except he knew Leo and his brothers had made bets about how long he’d last. Barrett had already abandoned his pride when he ran away from his problems. He couldn’t take another fall again.

  “That’s the last one.” Barrett examined the newly repaired fence before gathering his
tools. Not exactly splendid work, but it looked decent enough.

  He closed his eyes. Breathed in the smell of dirt and sun and felt the cool late afternoon wind caressing his sweat-soaked clothes. This was hard work, true. Nothing like sitting in front of his cubicle all day long, typing out reports, but Barrett felt a strange kind of satisfaction settle deep in his bones each time he completed a task.

  Trying, failing, and trying again at something he was unfamiliar with while being out here in the open land—well, it wasn’t exactly awful. There weren’t any noisy neighbors here, or cursing commuters in a packed train. Nothing here but quiet contemplation while he worked.

  Despite his aching muscles and the calluses hardening on his palms, Barrett realized inwardly that some part of him liked it here. Acknowledged that maybe he didn’t want to leave Wolf Ranch, and not just so he could prove Leo and his brothers wrong. The ranch had started to dig its hooks into him, started whispering to him that this place could be just what he needed to reenergize. Reboot. Forget about Toby completely and move on.

  Still, it was also lonely. Barrett got along with the other ranch hands just fine. He made friends with Raul and the others and occasionally went into town with them for a drink. He even got hit on a couple of times at the bar, by both men and women, but he only had eyes for one man.

  An arrogant, gorgeous cowboy he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with for more than a couple of minutes without exploding. Sometimes Barrett didn’t know what he wanted more—to punch Leo McLeod in the face, or beg him to fuck him senseless. He shook his head. There was no use thinking about what he couldn’t have, because Leo was off-limits—his own personal rule.

  Barrett didn’t even know which team Leo played for. Sure, Barrett felt that unmistakable spark. That strange, dark vibe from Leo that kind of reminded him of the Doms at the club back at the city, but he could be wrong.