Page 1 of Filthy and Fierce

CHAPTER 1

DIXON

I’m nursing a beer in one hand and have a woman’s thigh in my other one. She’s sitting in my lap, and if this was ten years ago—hell, last year, I would already have her in the back room and be balls deep inside her. Instead, I’m sitting here, trying to figure out how to get her off my lap without embarrassing her.

She’s a buckle bunny and is always hanging out at the Whiskey Whistler after a rodeo. She’s one of probably ten women that follow the circuit, and she’s known for being up for anything. Hell, she’s probably slept with a few of the guys here. Not that I’m shaming her or anything. I’ve been there, done that.

But I’m not interested.

I don’t know if it’s my age or boredom, but I’m not interested in what she’s offering. She’s shifting back and forth on me, and I’m not sure what she’s hoping for, but whatever it is, my dick is not interested either.

She leans toward me, pressing her fake, too-perfect breasts in my face. The bar is loud, and she has to practically holler intomy ear for me to hear what she’s saying. “You wanna get out of here, cowboy?”

“No.” The word comes out quick and without any hesitancy.

She rears back, surprised, and I’m trying to be polite about it and soften the denial with a smile, but she takes that as I’m interested instead of the fact I said no and meant it. Fuck.

I take my hand off her hip and put it on the couch beside me. Maybe she’ll get bored and get up.

A few people walk over and congratulate me on my win tonight, and after a few fist-bumps, I’m getting frustrated. “Honey, can you get up?”

She smiles real big at me. “Get off? Did you just ask me if I wanted to get off?”

A guy standing next to me laughs, and I grit my teeth. This is not my scene anymore. I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing here. I’m thirty-five years old. I should be at home with a wife and kid about now, but instead, I’ve spent the last fifteen years rodeoing and fucking around.

I’m about to lift the woman from my lap when something draws my attention to the front door. As soon as I spot Faith Allen walking in with her head held high like she owns the damn place, I know my life is never going to be the same.

She has on tight blue jeans, tall black boots, and a shirt that is molded to every damn curve she has. She is sin in cowgirl boots.

I drag in a breath and swallow. Hard.

She’s rolling a suitcase with another bag on top of it, telling me she just got into town.

I shouldn’t be looking at her. Hell, no one in here should be looking at her. She’s too young for most of the men in thiscrowd. I try to calculate it in my head, and she has to be around twenty-three now.Yeah, too damn young and too off-limits for you, I remind myself.

She’s my mentor’s daughter. Hell, Charlie is more than a mentor; he’s been like a father to me, and there’s no way I should be looking at his daughter the way I am right now.

Every man in the place is looking at her, and I can just imagine what they’re thinking. I’m not going to get out of this bar tonight without throwing a punch. Because as Charlie’s daughter, I’m going to protect her. Hell, because she’s Faith, I’m going to protect her.

She’s a lot different from the girl that followed me around her daddy’s ranch, asking me a thousand questions. I knew she had a crush on me then, but she was eighteen, and I had no interest in dating a child.

She’s an adult now.The thought comes before I can stop it, but I quickly tamp it down. Nope, she’s still too young, and it’s not going to happen.

Every man in the bar is looking at her but somehow, someway, she finds me. By the smile on her face, she’s happy to see me, but very quickly it disappears.

“Oh, you wanna take me up on my offer?” I forgot about the woman on my lap, and she’s pressing her ass into my cock that is thickening in my jeans. Fuck. She literally thinks I’m hard for her. I’m no longer worried about niceties. I lift the woman by the waist and set her in the seat next to me.

I stand up, smoothing my Wranglers down my thighs to hide my reaction to seeing Faith. I move to stand with a group of cowboys but keep my sights on the woman that is literally making me second-guess my morals, what’s right and wrong and where the hell am I going to sleep tonight. If she’s staying with her dad, I’m sleeping in the bunkhouse.

Dustin Clay pounds me on the back. “Congratulations on your win today!”

I shrug, not taking my eyes off Faith. “Thanks, but you’ll get it next time.”

Dustin is my biggest competitor in the bulldogging division, and we usually trade off wins at each event.

Sutton Trent barks out a laugh. “Please, you guys have it easy. You jump on a little steer and wrestle it to the ground. I have to ride a bull for eight seconds.”

I listen to Dustin and Sutton argue about which event requires more skill as I watch Faith across the bar. She’s moved to a table, and she has a friend with her, but there’s also three cowboys that are vying for her attention.

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