Dane's Restraint
Authors: J.J. Ranger
Dane’s Restraint
by
J.J. Ranger
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dane’s Restraint
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by J.J. Ranger
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, July 2012
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-548-5
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
Wabbit, without you I would have been eaten
by insanty long ago.
Callie, may our Dume boys live forever in the hearts of our readers.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
J.J. Ranger
AND HER BOOKS
DUSTIN’S GAMBLE
“Dustin’s Gamble reads very quickly but draws you in from the first page and doesn’t let you go. In a short amount of time I was very invested in Shannon and Dustin’s crazy relationship and rooting them on.”
~Sizzling Hot Books
“I love how Ms. Ranger tells a story in 70 pages and…makes it believable. Shannon and Dustin are in depth characters that you can't help but cheer for…There's always something sexy about a cowboy on a ranch…The story is a good fast read that you'll be glad you delved into.”
~You Gotta Read Reviews
“DUSTIN’S GAMBLE
is well-written and provides more insight into the series and the events…occurring between these amazing couples in one weekend…In addition, Dustin and Shannon both learn that in order to get what they both want, they need to trust and give. All this magic takes place on the famous Dume Ranch, and once you get to know the Dume brother’s, they will have you lusting for more.”
~Lace, Black Ravens Review
Chapter One
The Dumen Ranch was approximately two miles down on the opposite side of the road from Gran Piermont’s ranch. Pastures gave way to thickets of trees and then back to pastures. Sara Piermont bypassed Gran’s ranch and made the next right onto the gravel road, the entry blocked by a massive beige cobblestone and wrought iron gate. Dumen Ranch was scripted in iron across the rounded top of the gate. The ‘N’ in Dumen dangled.
“Do Me Ranch. Ha!” How appropriate for the weekend of debauchery she had planned.
She drove the winding gravel drive to the lodge. Green grass and trees landscaped the property as far as her eye could see. What a change from the dirt brown desert of Las Vegas. She could get used to this scenery.
The Dumen Ranch was a dude ranch that specialized in giving guests the ultimate cowboy experience, and this weekend it was home to her cousin Bridgette’s bachelorette weekend. Sara parked in a gravel lot next to the swimming pool and got out of the car. Humidity dampened her skin, and she swore she felt her wavy hair frizz into unruly curls. So much for the hour spent straightening.
The interior of the main lodge was homey. Large wood beams framed the room and supported the roof, adding to the rustic feel. It smelled of leather and sunshine. A few people milled around the room. She recognized a few friends of Bridgette’s and waved. Her cousin’s head popped around the doorframe.
“Sara, you made it!” Bridgette, her long hair caught up in a ponytail, jogged across the room and wrapped her in a hug. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Bridgette made casual look chic and beautiful. “Yay, the family is almost all here.”
“Shannon make it yet?”
“Yep. She got here about an hour ago. Poor kid’s trying to avoid Bandera as much as possible.”
“Because she doesn’t want to deal with Gran’s estate?” That didn’t sound like her normally sensible cousin. Shannon had been devoted to Gran, the woman who’d raised her, so for her to avoid dealing didn’t make any sense.
“No, because she doesn’t want to deal with Dustin Dumen.”
Sara’s eyebrow rose. “Ah, the ex-boyfriend. I completely understand.” During junior high and high school Dustin and Shannon had dated. As she remembered, their breakup had been extremely hard on her cousin.
Bridgette gave her a wicked grin. “We are in for an interesting weekend. Speaking of which, I’ve got to run and take care of a few things. Why don’t you get checked in and settled, and we’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
Sara bid her cousin goodbye, crossed to the office, and poked her head in the door. A thin blonde of twenty-ish, with baby blue eyes, looked up from her computer and leaned forward, pushing her exposed cleavage almost to her chin.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a lilting southern drawl.
“Checking in.”
“Last name?”
“Piermont. Sara.”
“Of course, Miss Piermont. You will be in the Annie Oakley cabin.” The blonde handed Sara a key and a packet of information that included a schedule of the weekend’s events and a map of the property.
“Thank you. By the way, how close is that to my cousins’ cabins?”
“You will be next to them.”
“Perfect. Thank you for your help.” She gave the woman one last smile and returned to her car. Following the map, she drove to the parking space behind her cabin. A quick glance around the surroundings showed that her front porch faced the riding stables and corral. To the left were two cabins, the same on the right. Each cabin had about twenty feet separating them. She’d have to remember to keep her windows closed. God forbid anyone hear her moaning in the middle of the night from a great wet dream.
So sad, you can’t fantasize about moaning during a great
real
orgasm?
Six months single and she was sexually repressed. Depressing.
Annoyed with herself for allowing her shyness to cloud her life, she snatched her luggage from the backseat and stomped up the wooden steps. She had enough presence of mind not to slam the door. The poor building didn’t need the abuse.
The interior of the cabin was quaint. A double bed adorned with a pastel-plaid quilt sat in the middle of the room. A chest of drawers was under the window. The room smelled slightly of leather and pine. She inhaled deeply. It smelled like home. Well, not her home in Vegas, more like
homey
.
****
Dane Dumen shifted in the saddle, watching guests file in and out of the lodge from his vantage point at the edge of the woods, hidden from view. God, another bachelorette weekend. All those poor saps settling down, hanging up their spurs for good. Hell, even his older brothers were all in a tizzy over this weekend’s activities.
Dane wasn’t against marriage, he just wasn’t there yet. After a nasty engagement and breakup, he hadn’t been looking for a woman who made him think of rings and roses. He was in no hurry, either. In just the few hours since the guests started arriving, he’d been hit on four times. Not that he hadn’t been tempted. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. If all he wanted was to get laid, those women would have worked out fine. He may not be after marriage, but he was old-fashioned enough to want something out of a relationship.
He groaned. Now he was starting to think like Dustin. His older brother hadn’t stopped talking about the love of his life coming home, and his lovesick bullshit was starting to rub off.
Damn. Maybe he needed to take one of those women up on their offer or maybe take several of them at once. Scratch the itch and move on.
The cell phone at his hip buzzed. He grabbed it and checked the display. Speaking of his older brother… “’Lo?”
“Are you done checking the trails yet?” Dustin asked.
“Just finished.”
“Well, get your ass to the lodge. Deacon’s chomping for help wrangling this gaggle of females.”
Dane rolled his eyes. Like his eldest brother wasn’t capable of sweet talking women into doing anything he wanted them to. “And he needs both of us?”
“Apparently.”
Why hadn’t he taken the weekend off? Right now, he could be kicked back with a few beers, fishing, and enjoying some much needed R&R. He glared toward the lodge, willing his brother to read the “fuck off” look on his face, then shook off the negativity. He’d agreed to be here, so he’d just have to suck it up and play nice with the guests and his family.
Or die trying…
****
Sara dropped her bags on the bed, and one flopped to its side spilling the contents onto the comforter. She stared at the sex toys scattered across her bed. What on earth had possessed her to buy ball gags and butt plugs? She’d be lucky to get over her shyness long enough to hit on a guy, let alone use restraints on him.
Maybe the dude ranch would have a spare hunky cowboy she could borrow for a few days. She knew the Dumens had four sons, but she’d never gotten to meet them during her brief visits with Gran.
If she hadn’t promised Bridgette she’d attend this weekend’s bachelorette party, she would have stayed safely tucked in the confines of her home with her new toys.
“Right, because the sole purpose of buying the damn things was to use them on yourself. Coward.” She snorted and hefted the suitcase off the bed.
Her mother’s solution to anything was to get out and sample the sexual world—sage advice from the most popular stripper at The Pier Strip Club in Las Vegas, which happened to be owned by Sara’s father. Even Sara’s ex-boyfriend had thought they should be adventurous by experimenting with orgies and couple swapping.
After so many years of avoiding working for the family business and living behind her self-imposed curtain of purity, she was ready to live. Come hell or high water, this weekend she
would
step out of the shadows and into the world of the sexually deviant.
A light breeze kicked up as she stepped onto the porch. So far, she had not seen one cowboy.
Across the gravel lot in the corral, a horse whinnied. She dropped onto the rocking chair and watched the animals. There were four chestnuts and one dusty gray gelding. All were saddled but not tied.
A cloud of dust rose from behind the small riding office. Another horse rounded the corner—this one black with a white strip down his face—ridden by a man dressed in typical western wear. Dark denim clung to powerful thighs, a long-sleeved maroon shirt stretched across a broad chest.
From this distance, she couldn’t make out facial features, but when he removed his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve, she saw brown hair darkened by sweat. He oozed raw masculine power, the kind that sent her heart racing and made her nipples pucker.
The man looked in her direction and tipped his hat. He smiled and clicked to the horse who responded by turning and disappearing behind the building.
Intrigued, Sara walked across the road and followed the path around the office to a fenced corral. She watched the man strip the horse of its saddle and bridle, though she knew there was probably some appropriate terminology like desaddling or untacking. All she knew was that was one lucky horse.
Finally, the cowboy approached the horse with a round brush—a curry comb, she vaguely remembered it being called from her visits with Gran—and ran it in circles over its side. The large animal drank from a bucket tied to the fence post.
The man himself was tall, somewhere over six feet—she’d never been good at estimating anyone’s height. He turned at her approach, and her heart jilted in her chest.
Holy hell, he was gorgeous. Light brown eyes, the color of rum, were framed by long, thick black lashes. He smiled in welcome, revealing perfect straight white teeth. Her nipples pebbled against the lace of her bra.
“Uh, hi,” she stammered. “I hope you don’t mind, but I saw you ride in and thought I’d come check out the horses.”
Gees, why don’t you just say “I think you’re hot and want you to be my weekend fuck buddy.”
The cowboy tipped his hat. “Not at all. Are you planning to do some riding this weekend?”
Heat flushed her cheeks. “That’s the plan.” She reached out and gave a tentative stroke of the horse’s hip. The animal shifted and leaned his butt into the caress.
