Cowboy Double-Decker (11 page)

No. She’d given up control in return for thinking he loved her.

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That someone actually wanted to spend their life with her.

What a crock that turned out to be.

She’d adored Freddie, thinking it was love rather than her need to be wanted. Thanks to him, she learned that most men were total bastards. A woman couldn’t trust their promises to take the garbage out, much less give a lifetime of love. She didn’t need a man’s love.

Once her parents died, no one had ever loved her. Scotty she was all she had.

Bryan didn’t promise love, just a week of caring for Scotty.

And orgasms. Don’t forget them!

But even without that, having Bryan care for Scotty was worth putting up with his arrogance and demands.

She groaned, turned around, and sat on the toilet. Bryan always remembered to put the seat and lid down. Mostly for Scotty’s safety, but she still appreciated it. Another point in his favor.

She worked hard to be strong. Freddie had thrown her for a loop, but she recovered and with Scotty to live for, was stronger than ever.

Strong enough to put up with a live-in lover for six more nights.

But was she strong enough to let herself be tied up by him? Strong women shouldn’t enjoy being dominated by a man’s strength and power.

So why did the thought make her melt?

She’d once read that powerful men paid big bucks to dominant females who made them crawl. In their jobs they had to be in control all the time, making decisions that altered the lives of thousands.

Because of that, they wanted to give up the burden of control to another, focusing only on pleasing one person, their dominatrix.

Was the ultimate control the ability to give up, yet still be yourself?

Bryan said Candy enjoyed both the submission and the hot sex that came after. The photos proved it. She couldn’t forget the orgasmic look on Candy’s face when Bryan held her down and Adam slammed into her from behind.

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Groaning at her body’s instant reaction, she stood up and stared in the mirror. A hot blush stained her skin from hairline to blue T-shirt.

A T-shirt that had two swelling breasts topped with hard nipples pushing through her bra.

Though it was invisible, she felt the heat all the way down to where Bryan’s thick cock had pounded her with unimaginable pleasure. What would it be like to totally let herself go? Unable to do anything but enjoy the sensations Bryan brought her body?

Everyone had bad things happen. She survived and moved on, thinking she escaped Freddie and all the bad memories by moving here. But flinching when Scotty let loose on Bryan’s chest proved she brought her past with her. Would letting herself be free with Bryan also free her from her past? Would it replace shameful memories of restraint, spanking, and humiliation with delightful sexual ones?

Giving up control didn’t have to be bad. Not if it was her choice.

But what if he gave it up first? That would prove he wasn’t just spouting words. She’d explored his chest, had ridden the hard cock often straining to escape his jeans. But she’d not had a chance to explore the rest of his body. Or any man’s body. Doing so would give her a heck of a lot more confidence. She wanted to nibble his taut buns and draw her nipples down his back. Lightly scratch her fingernails down his muscular arms, leaving her mark on his skin. If he could move, he’d distract her exploration by touching her. Bound, she’d be free to do whatever she wanted to him.

She nodded to her reflection quickly and decisively. “You deserve to have everything you want. So go get it, girl!”

She unlocked the door and stalked out of the bathroom. Scotty sat on the floor in the lounge, pounding his ducky with a soft hammer, part of a toddler tool kit Bryan found in the local hardware store. He insisted the boy needed “guy toys.” Of course, Scotty loved it. Her baby was already growing up, needing male things she hadn’t thought of.

She turned to the much larger male in front of her. Bryan leaned
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one shoulder against the wall, waiting with thumbs in his front pockets. Big and strong and wanting. Wanting a lot by the look of what waited behind the fabric framed by his dangling fingers.

“You first.” Her words came out more of a croak than demand.

Bryan blinked. He opened his eyes wide. “Me?” He snorted and shook his head. “What about ‘ladies first.’”

“Nope.” She shook her head back, breasts aching for his touch.

“You go first or forget it.”

He pushed himself upright, strolled over, and leaned his palms on the wall on either side of her, looming like a hungry vulture.

“You want to tie me to the bed and have your wicked way with me?”

“Uh-hunh.” She licked dry lips.

“Then I can do whatever I want with you?”

He purred the question, but they both knew it was a demand. He was so much stronger physically, he could do anything he wanted and she couldn’t stop him. She shivered at his intensity. She’d seen the same look in hunting cats, crouched low and seemingly uninterested until they sprang for the mouse.

She cleared her throat and looked up at him. “Yes.”

“Fine with me.” He brought his lips closer to hers. “Either way, I win.”

* * * *

“You can do this,” said Kaela to herself. After putting Scotty down she bathed, primped, and put on her emerald green silk nightie, a wild purchase from the thrift store. It slid over her breasts, scooped into her waist, then drifted to mid-thigh, shifting against her skin like butterfly kisses when she moved.

He wanted her, even if it was because he was horny and she was the only female available. That didn’t matter tonight. A gorgeous, intelligent man who made her body sing would let her do whatever
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she wanted to him.

She mentally stomped on any thoughts about what would happen after. She was in control tonight and that’s all that mattered. She’d worry about turnabout later.

She stepped out of the bathroom straight into a warm, muscular chest. She inhaled a gasp and looked up when his hands settled lightly on her shoulders. She inhaled a whiff of the hot cinnamon candy he popped now and then. A faint hint of leather lingered from his earlier ride.

With muscles gained from working on the ranch almost his whole life, he could easily make her do whatever he wanted. Yet she held the power tonight.

He straightened, his eyes trolling past the nipples poking at the soft silk to the vee of her legs, almost visible below the short garment.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

He kissed the top of her head and released her. Forcing away everything but this moment, she followed him into the bedroom and shut the door. He set the stage, stripping the covers off the bed and lighting candles. But she focused on the body she’d soon explore. He popped the button of his jeans, then paused and stared, nostrils flaring.

“On or off?”

“Pants off,” she croaked.

“Front or back?”

“Lie on your stomach.”

“Thank God the mattress is a pillow top,” he muttered. “What’ll you tie me with?”

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a roll of fluorescent orange plastic ribbon.

“Flagging tape?”

“Why not? It’s not sticky and it’s easily cut.” She picked up her manicure scissors. “Unless you have four silk ties you want to sacrifice?”

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“Nope.” He turned his back and slowly unzipped. “You’ve got a kinky mind, Michaela Jones. I bet I get a hard-on every time I use the stuff from now on.” He dropped his pants an inch and turned over his shoulder to look at her. “How the hell am I going to explain
that
when I’m working on a construction site?”

“Stop stalling and drop your pants.”

“Yes, may-am.”

Watching her intently, he took his time to ease the soft denim over his hips. Inch by inch until they dropped to his ankles. Tonight, that body was all hers. He kicked his pants off and keeping his back to her, eased himself onto the bed and lay on his stomach. He muttered and winced as he stretched his arms and legs into an X.

He looked like Da Vinci’s drawing of a naked man in a circle, only from the back. Candle flames flickered on taut, curved buns. His long feet pointed to her, lightly furred legs leading to the dark space between his thighs. His broad back, the dark tan stark against white sheets, widened from waist to shoulders. A few white lines marked scars, ones she’d trace with her tongue. He’d cut his hair short, leaving a faint, white, high water mark around his neck and circling his face.

“Start any time,” he said, lifting his head to see her.

A familiar heat rose from her belly. She hadn’t blushed as much in her entire life as she had since she first saw this man.

Though he was the one who’d be tied down, she realized he was still very much in control of the situation. They both knew he allowed her to do this to him. Not a conquered man, but an eager participant.

He wriggled, settling himself, and startled her into action. She cut four long orange strips, doubling them over to make loops. She pretended he wasn’t watching her as she tied him to the bed, first his ankles, then his wrists.

“Such a lovely gown, milady. It gapes so enticingly.”

“Pardon me?” She stood up, clutching the tape, and frowned at him.

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“Let’s have some fun with this,” he said, gently testing his bonds.

“It’s the seventeenth century and you’re the lady of the castle. You captured me trying to steal your horse.”

He wanted to pretend, like the sheik thing he did with Adam and Candy.

“Your castle is a twenty-day ride from anywhere,” he continued.

“You’ve been widowed for years after the old goat your parents forced you to marry died. The men who court you are just as bad.

They only want for your land. But it doesn’t matter as, when you marry, they’ll own you and everything else, and can do whatever they want to you.”

“Then I won’t marry.” Getting into the part, she crossed her arms under her breasts and raised an eyebrow at him. His eyes shot to her chest.

“If you haul me to the authorities I’ll be hanged,” he said, ignoring her interruption. “Worse, it will remind them about you.

They’ll marry you off to the highest bidder. Bored and horny, you want to give me a more, shall we say,
personal
punishment.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Of course, I’ve given my word as a gentleman not to escape.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t steal a lady’s horse.”

“Now that I’ve seen you, I want far more than your horse,” he growled. He raked his eyes over her, clearly making his point. “While I shall not attempt to escape from your castle, I said nothing about escaping your bed.”

“Be quiet, thief, or I’ll have you whipped at my post.” She leaned over and pressed her hands on the mattress, purposefully teasing him.

His eyes lingered where the fabric gaped at her neck. “A dozen lashes of the cat will curb your tongue.”

“My tongue is good for more than talk, milady,” he purred.

Flushing in remembrance of the previous night, she scurried to the foot of the bed. She stood tall and admired her work. She’d start at his feet and go as far as the underside of his bottom, where curved cheeks
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met strong thighs. Then she’d turn him over and work her way from face to belly button. Just when he thought he’d be rewarded, she’d start over at his feet and work up.

“If you turn me over, your loyal servant will prove his words.”

“I will hold you to your promise, sirrah. But at my leisure.”

She grinned at her use of courtly phrases, a product of the historical fiction she read to take her far from her troubles. The elderly librarian would burn her membership card if she learned about this.

She ran a short fingernail along his sole. He jerked his foot but couldn’t move it far. She giggled, surprising herself.

“Consider your actions carefully, madam,” he growled. “You must release me eventually.”

She pouted but took his warning seriously. Objective in mind, she crept across the white sheet. Her hands and knees sank into thick mattress. When she reached the top of his thighs she stopped, resting on her knees. She cupped her hand over his curving bottom.

She smacked his pale bottom cheek. He twitched and inhaled a gasp. After a moment, a pink outline the size of her hand appeared.

She admired it for a moment before standing up.

He tilted his head to watch, pushing slightly up on an elbow. She twisted her torso back and forth to flutter the hem. She lifted her right foot, letting him see up her thigh. He groaned, wide eyes catching the flicker of candle flame. She quivered as if the flames licked her from foot to belly. She dragged her toes over him, scraping his bottom, until she stood with her ankles either side of his narrow hips.

With a whoosh, she sank down on the lower curve of his back.

She squirmed, grinding her wet folds into his skin. She flipped the front of her gown over her head so it flowed like a green cape behind her, leaving her front naked. She leaned forward and pressed her breasts against his warm back, snuggling.

“Mmmm. You could keep a widow warm when the north wind blew in from the sea,” she murmured.

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“Winter will arrive soon, madam. I will work for food and shelter.”

“Consider this evening your test of worth, scoundrel.”

He moved his torso from side to side, scraping her flesh against his. She sat up a bit and dragged one erect nipple, then the other, across his back.

“You are branded with my X, thief. The mark may be invisible, but we both know it is there. Now you will roll over.”

“Your wish is my command.”

* * * *

Bryan groaned in relief when Kaela let him turn over and retied him. Even though the mattress was soft, his cock was way too hard to lie flat for long. Especially when she did the nipple thing on his back.