Beauty Submits To Her Beast (18 page)
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I wanted you. Wanted to become the man you needed me to be. So I stayed, told myself you were full of crap and I’d prove it to you, but, instead, I’m ready to admit you were right.”
She smiled and tears tracked down the side of her face. “That’s a start.”
He swiped the tears away. He could actually smile and feel the knots and tension easing from his shoulders. “Does this mean we can spend some time together?”
“I think we can arrange to go riding together.”
“Just riding?” He pulled her closer.”
“Hmm, what did you have in mind?”
God, his mind was suddenly in overdrive. He could take her on her desk, on the floor, have her kneel and take his cock in her mouth. His blood pooled between his legs and set off fresh waves of need. Three weeks felt like three months.
“Know any good Doms?” Her voice was low and throaty.
He lifted a brow. If that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know his women. His subs. On the verge of stepping back and taking control, he hesitated. She was willing to take him now, start building that relationship. But as much as he wanted to claim her and fuck her until they were both yelling and screaming, he wanted something more. He wanted her friendship and her respect.
He bent his head, kissed her long and hard, drew her taste and scent deep into his soul. His body and mind were relieved at her passionate response, and his dick grew hard and ready for what was to come.
Instead, he lifted his head, smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones, then stepped back, dropping his hands.
“I know just the Dom for you. He knows what you need, and he wants to give it to you. But when he comes to you, he wants to be a whole man. He wants to be your Dom and your man. The man got lost, forgot how to live, but he’s coming back. Can you give him time, give him a chance? Maybe let the man and woman catch up to the Dom and sub?”
Caitlin laughed low in her throat and eased close. She stood on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips, then stepped back. “The woman would love to get to know the man.”
Damon returned to the bunkhouse. For the first time since being injured, he had a reason to heal and live.
****
Caitlin leaned on the rail and watched as Dusty and Damon put a gelding through his paces. Like the mare, Damon had bonded with this animal as well, and so far, he was the only one who the horse would allow on his back. She sighed with contentment and studied the man she loved. Her plan had been a success. He’d been here just over three months, and the transformation was miraculous.
She missed him, yearned to have him with her every day and night. The occasional meal and their rides were good. Better than good. She enjoyed exploring his mind, his intellect during what she thought of as their date time. They discussed horses, the ranch, his childhood and hers, and he even shared some of his stories as a SEAL, at least the non-classified ones. But neither made the move to a more intimate relationship. If and when, it would be up to him.
When he felt he was a whole man.
An hour later, Damon trotted over.
“He’s ready to take out.” He yanked his hat off and blotted the sweat from his face.
“You sure he’s reliable. I’d hate for you to get thrown.” She grinned. “Again.”
He laughed. “We’re pals. He won’t even think about bucking me, will you, pal?” He stroked the chestnut.
“All right. Where to?” She treasured their jaunts and outings together.
“How about our little oasis? It’s not far.” His glance slid from her face down her body, then back up to her mouth.
She felt that delicious shiver trip down her spine. The stand of pines near a small, natural spring was one of her favorite places, and the center of many fantasies between her and this man. The sexual tension growing between them was like a snarling K-9 nipping at the heels of a perp. Need and pure lust hummed through her, but she kept it tightly reined.
When he’s ready.
She just hoped he didn’t take too long.
“It’s close enough to walk.” The stand of trees started at her house and ended at the spring.
“Yeah, but I’m lazy. Let the horses carry the picnic stuff.”
Caitie laughed. “Fine. I’ll meet you in ten.”
“No need. Had Josh saddle your mare.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, Damon Steele.”
He waggled his brows. “Nope. Pretty sure you wouldn’t say no, Caitlin Olsen.”
Shaking her head, she opened the gate to the large corral, large enough to hold riding lessons or work more than one animal at a time, let him and the horse through, then latched it. He rode off toward the barn, leaving her to follow.
****
Damon was nervous as teen on his first date. “Got everything, Javon?”
He slid down, pleased when his thigh didn’t protest. Dusty’s nightly tortures with that smelly horse ligament and rough but firm massages had done more than all the PT he’d tried. Better than going back under a knife to remove scar tissue adhered to bone as his last doctor had suggested.
“Yo. And here’s your pack.”
Working quickly, Damon attached a quilt, basket, and the small bag he’d dropped off earlier that morning to his saddle. He put up with the good-natured teasing from those in the Caitie Club. Everyone knew he was more than just one of Caitie’s Boys, and it amazed him that no one minded. When Caitie, as he now thought of her, arrived, all teasing and crude remarks were zipped. There wasn’t a man on the ranch who didn’t love this woman in some fashion.
He grabbed the reins of her mare and handed them to her, then helped her into the saddle. Again, with an ease that never failed to astound him, he mounted, and together, they headed toward the back of the sprawling ranch house, then followed the trail that ran down the center of the groove of pines. They discussed the condition of the horses, the repair schedule, and Damon’s recommendations for more repairs. As a contractor, he’d found himself quickly put in charge of the buildings.
“Got a crew starting next week on raising a new barn. It’s bigger, with more storage.”
“That’s great news. The one on the property when I bought it is about to fall down.”
“It’s gone now. Had the men take it down. Saved what we could to reuse.” He liked the idea of incorporating old and new. Old history and new tomorrows. He eyed Caitie. Was he old history or did they have new tomorrows? He’d soon find out.
When they reached a small clearing surrounded by Douglas Firs and Ponderosa pines, she dismounted. He followed suit and handed her the quilt and basket. “Talked Martha into frying up some of her fried chicken.”
Caitie spread the blanket. “You didn’t have to talk her into anything. All you did was grin and say please. I swear she’d walk over fire for you.” It was nice to be away from the noise and what she often thought of as organized chaos and heavenly to be alone with Damon.
Damon’s hands came down on her shoulders, and he pulled her against him. This woman had given so much. Because of her, he felt alive. And at home. “And you, Caitie? Would you walk on fire for me?” He turned her and stared down into her eyes
She cupped his face. “You know I would.”
“I was so angry for the first few weeks I was here.”
She smiled. “I know.”
He leaned his head against hers and wrapped his arms around her. “You were right. You have an amazing gift, Caitie. You saved me.”
“No, you saved yourself. I just gave you the tools.” Two tears fell.
He wiped the moisture and held her chin. “I was too damaged to find help.”
“And now?” Her gaze searched his.
“On the mend. Still have a ways to go, but for the first time since I came home, I’ve found peace.”
Tears ran in a steady stream. “You’ve forgiven yourself.”
“Yeah. Dusty and the others have beat it into me that I wasn’t to blame, that war is fucked, and good men die. Bad shit happens. I did my duty, have no guilt there anymore. The enemy who ambushed us is to blame. Not me.”
Caitlin threw her arms around him. “I’m so glad, Damon.”
“There’s something I’ve never told anyone, not my commanding officers, not even the men here. I want to tell you.” Needed to come clean with her.
“Okay. I’m a good—”
“Listener.” He chucked, pulled her around so he could see her, so she could see him. “That last mission didn’t go quite as planned. We had three teams, plus troops and support staff. Command wanted to hold my team in reserve, as back up. I convinced them, instead, to let me take point.” He drew in a deep breath. “Had I not wanted to get in and be in the center of the action, my team would be alive. All because I countered command.
Caitie rose onto her knees. “And this is why you blamed yourself. Not just because they died, but because they didn’t have to die.”
“Yes.” He pulled her back into his arms as the last of the weight fell from his shoulders. He held the woman he loved, breathed in her scent, and allowed himself to feel, to hope and to dream. “I still have issues and nightmares, will always deal with them, and probably some pain as well, but I hope the regrets I hold will eventually fade. Though I never want to forget those men or their families. They shouldn’t be forgotten, and I’ll remember the good times. But I no longer blame myself. Had it not been me and my team, it would have been another. The mission was doomed from the beginning. I could never wish that pain of loss on anyone else.”
He drew back. “If you’ll have me, I want to stay with you. Be part of your life. With you, I’m alive. And I feel like I’ve come home.”
“Oh, Damon.” She hugged him tight. She’d known there was more and was honored he’d shared it with her. No wonder he’d been so tormented and lost.
Holding her close, he nuzzled her hair. “I love you. Can you accept me as both your beast and your forever prince?”
Caitie tipped her head back and stared at him. “Only if you’ll also be my Dom and my man and move into my house with me. I love you, Damon.”
He feathered his lips across hers. “This Dom doesn’t care who’s in charge at the moment. He just wants to kiss you and make love to you right now, right here. In our bedroom.”
“Bedroom?”
Grinning, he picked up his pack and removed a roll of paper. He pulled her down and spread the large sheet. “I figure our bedroom is about here. But up a good thirty feet.”
Caitie’s jaw dropped as she stared at the plans for an elaborate tree house. “Our very own tree house?” Her gaze tracked platforms, rope bridges, and a multilevel house. The entire project took up a good portion of the stand of pines, and the color printout showed that it blended perfectly, looked as though it had been planted with the trees and grown naturally with them.
“Yep. Notice the bridge that leads to the tree right outside your bedroom window. Going to add a balcony so we can sneak out and go to our own special place.”
She was impressed. And amazed. “You can really build this?”
“Had the trees checked out by an arborist. A couple are too weak and diseased and will have to come down, and we’ll have to do some trimming of deadwood, but otherwise, that’s a very healthy stand of pines, Ms. Olsen.” He rolled up the plans.
“You know I have a business. On hold for the time being, but I want to specialize in designing and building tree houses if you don’t mind me taking on outside jobs here and there.” He shrugged. “Even had a couple of local ranch owners ask for quotes and advice. But if you don’t want me to continue with my business and want me to just work here, I’m good with that. You have a great place here, Caitie. I’m grateful to you, Glorie, and Bryce.”
“Damon, I love the idea of you doing tree houses and whatever contract work you choose. I think it’s healthy for you to have your own interests and business. We’ll work it out. Now, Sir. I believe you’re talking far too much and not doing enough kissing.” She stood, kicked off her boots, and quickly undressed, then lay back.
Grinning, Damon followed suit and glided his naked body over hers. He pulled her arms over her head. “Guess I’d best take care of my duties. Want to go trick or treating?”
“Only if there’s lots of candy.” She let out a long, satisfied moan when his fingers slid through the curls of her mound and settled on her clit.
“How much candy can you handle, Ms. Olsen?
“Got an incurable sweet tooth, Mr. Steele.”
She sighed when Damon’s mouth closed over hers and hoped the first house he took her to was a duplex. Or even better, a triplex.
About the Author
Sydney St. Claire is the pseudonym of Susan Edwards, author of Historical Native American/Western/Paranormal romances and of the popular White Series. During her career, she has been nominated for the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award for Western Historical and Reviewer’s Choice Best Book Award.
Sydney takes her readers into the world of erotic romance where her characters come together in explosive passion as they solve life’s problems and find true love along with the best sex our hero and heroine have ever experienced.
She credits her mother for her writing success. Encouraged to read, Susan always preferred happy endings, which meant romances were her favorite genre.
Susan resides in California. Her office is quite crowded with two small dogs at her feet, another huge girl in her recliner, and five cats to keep her company while she writes. Life gets fun when all five insist on supervising…
When not writing, she enjoys crafts including quilting, sewing, cross-stitch, and knitting. She and her husband of thirty-plus years are avid gardeners. Camping, fishing, biking, and hiking are other outdoor pursuits she enjoys. She is, of course, an avid reader and hates cooking and housework.
Contact Susan/Sydney at:
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