Free Dynomite: A Stepbrother Cowboy Romance by Layla Wolfe

got enough troubles already with trying to run your poor mama’s business?”
    “Why would the business be causing me trouble?” I asked nervously. Already, he was backing me up against the wall. It was actually a floor-to-ceiling plate glass window that looked into, I believe, the Sammy Davis Jr. bedroom. But the drapes were closed, and no one had been in Sammy’s bedroom in ten years, so Marcus saw nothing wrong with cupping a giant handful of one of my boobs.
    I tried to distract him by talking about his holy business. He didn’t do a quarter as much work as my dad did on the business, preferring to hang out at the country club and the cocktail parties of other ranchers. “I’m not having any troubles running the ranch, Marcus.” Gently I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, tried to remove the hand. I’d always protested his manhandling of me. It just wasn’t right. It had started when I was about fourteen but lately had become much worse, more urgent and forceful. “Everything is going perfectly smoothly. Some cows over on the Belt Buckle Ranch are in heat and a couple of our bulls decided to take a little trek—”
    He flipped his thumb over my nipple. I cursed the day I’d decided not to wear my padded bra. Of course the nipple stiffened. And I had chosen the wrong subject matter to distract my uncle. “Now, can you blame them? Bulls get randy just like people do. Especially with a giant, luscious, round boob staring them in the face like this. You make sure you don’t rile that boy livin’ under our roof now, young April. I can see where his horny young eyes are going straight to your rack.”
    I put more force into pulling his hand from my boob. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. His mind is firmly focused on the rodeo. And I’ve got my boyfriend , Lawson Willard. Which is why you shouldn’t be touching me.”
    I’d never told Lawson about these occasional maulings from my uncle. I couldn’t. I had told Dad a couple of times a few years ago, and he’d brushed it off as being “nothing to get upset about.” I knew he didn’t want to rock the boat with Marcus, what with Marcus owning at least half the ranch, especially now. Cliff Pleasure had only actually come into ownership of half of Hardscrabble recently, when his wife passed away. Only then had it become official. But Marcus Seaver and his sister Hattie, originally from Oklahoma, had been the sole owners when Cliff Pleasure had asked for her hand twenty years ago. Now? I could understand why my dad didn’t want to cause trouble with Marcus.
    There were other reasons why Marcus shouldn’t be touching me. But that was the most logical one to use against someone who saw nothing wrong with incest. Me being too young, and related to him by blood, well, those weren’t strong arguments to use against someone that twisted.
    “I heard tell Lawson Willard was going back east to college.” He said “back east” as though he’d come from there. A Bostonian with an Okie twang. He was elite for no reason, having inherited half a ranch he didn’t even know how to run. I knew way more about the inner workings of Hardscrabble than he did. But we had to pay respects to him. He pinched my nipple. “Ah, hell, April bug. You just get purdier and purdier as you grow. You’re not going to be a little girl anymore.”
    This time I did twist his arm away. “I haven’t been ‘little’ for quite a while, uncle . And it’s been wrong of you to touch me this whole time. I need you to stay away from me.”
    There. That cloud, that darkness coming over his face. That told me something bad was going to happen, and the familiar doom sunk its tentacles into my entrails. I started inching toward the slider, but Marcus scooted between me and the door. Grabbing me by the upper arms, he twirled me around, slamming me against the sheet glass.
    Now he was snarling. “Listen here, young missy. You know the drill. You’re not changing the rules on me this late