Freed (25 page)

When he sends the bull into a reverse spin, I almost come unglued, but I right myself, hoop, holler, and grin big. Finally the bull slows, and I chuckle as I realize I must have ridden my eight seconds, but my laughter dies out quickly as the bull springs back to life. I’m jarred off balance, and Ransom’s hat flies off, but I manage to pull myself back up and ride out the series of moves he dishes out. When he slows this time, I don’t let my guard down until I feel him stop completely, and my score is announced. I didn’t catch it, but I glance up to the clock and finally do cheer when I see my time went over eight seconds.

Giving one last
whoop!
and throwing my fist in the air, I fight coming back down to earth, not ready to relinquish the high. I throw my leg over to hop off, but instead, I end up throwing myself into Ransom’s waiting arms. I’d thought the crowd was nuts before, but now they are positively manic. Ransom and I wrap our arms around each other as he walks me off the cushy mat in a full-body hold.

Burying my face in his neck, I marvel, “I get it. I
so
get it.” I don’t sound like myself. I sound like a young, giddy version of me, though, so I don’t fight it. Lifting my head, I capture him with my gaze and then with a quick kiss. I can only imagine what I must look like right now. I know I have a wild look in my eyes, and my hair is as sticky with perspiration as is my face and back.

If the look in Ransom’s eyes means what I think it means, he must not mind. “What do you get?”

“The ride. The letting go. The living in the moment. No thinking, only feeling and being. God, the amount of trust you have to put in it and yourself, knowing it could gut you and leave you broken and shattered, but when you see it till its end … it’s exhilaration. Power. Peace.”

I don’t know if I stop talking and he kisses me, or if he kisses me to stop me from talking, but either way, he kisses what little breath I had clean out of me until we rest our foreheads together, gasping for air. It dawns on me then that I’m still dangling from his arms, but I’m good with that.

“Denver, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He says it playfully so it kind of rhymes and makes me giggle. “She still broke two of my rules tonight, and for that, she’ll have to face the consequences,” he says, still playful but with an edge. My eyes widen, and my giggling quickly subsides. And the body that had just begun to cool off, flares with heat once again. He sets me down, angles his cowboy hat just right, and whispers, “You and the girls have fun. I’ll see you back at the apartment,” before strutting off back toward the bar.
Sonofabitch!

“I don’t know about you girls, but I’m about to get my cowboy and head home,” Stephanie decrees, only slightly slurring her words.

“What happened to ‘arrive together, leave together?’” Lauren asks.

“Well, I suppose, in theory, it sounded good. Right up until our naughty boys crashed the party.” She gazes over my shoulder, presumably eyeballing Gage as I’d caught her doing several times tonight. “I mean, look at the guy. Those abs. You’ve seen them?” she urges. We all nod in agreement because, good Lord, yes, we’d all fallen victim to gawking at Gage’s eight-pack. They’re already legendary. “I didn’t even know they made such a thing,” she continues. “They deserve their own Facebook page,” she declares, ignoring the raucous laughter she sets off. “Yeah, it would be like a public service thing, educating the masses.”

“OK,” Lauren wheezes, “we get that you’re obsessed with Gage’s abs. What about you, Maggie? Pete’s finest asset?” She waggles her brows.

“Mmm,” Maggie purrs. “Hands! Gotta go with those talented hands.”

“Ugh, Maggie, TMI,” we whine in chorus.

“Meredith, care to discuss Austin’s biggest draw?”

“Well, before tonight, I would have said his sense of humor, but that boy can dance too.”

“Yes, he can,” I agree.

“Denver?” Maggie taunts. “What about Ransom?”

“Easy. Eyes … and ass.”

“No, that’s cheating,” Stephanie complains. “You gotta pick one.”

“Sorry, ladies. No can do. Ransom looks good going …
and
coming.”

“Denver!” Maggie squeals once again, and we fall out laughing again.

I guess our loud behavior gets the boys’ attention because they pick that moment to come, scoop us up, and carry us away.

Chapter Nineteen

Denver

I
’M AS SPOOKED
as a green horse on her first day at competition, and I ponder how on earth I got myself here in this moment and time. Ransom and I left the bar together and had a quiet ride back to his apartment, even though he never stopped with his gentle touches and little stolen kisses.

He told me to get ready for bed, which I interpreted as
no playing tonight
.

I groaned aloud because that meant my punishment would be no orgasms.

He chuckled at my obvious display of pouting.

Then he proceeded to blow my mind with
Oh, you’ll have your pleasure, but not before you get the spanking you earned.

I was left to wonder why, exactly, that did the craziest things to me on the inside—gut clenching, core throbbing, ass already stinging.

When we both dressed for bed, he sat me down and explained how I had broken not one, but two, rules. And God, did he know how to draw the whole ordeal out.

You pretended not to know me when you ordered that drink. Counts as drinking without me.

I told you, under no circumstances, were you to put yourself in harm’s way. You told that operator to take you all the way. Not safe.

Now, you’ll have to accept your punishment like a good girl.

My eyes went wide, and he made me repeat my safe words.

Ransom ordered me to stand in front of him, and he massaged my arms, my lower back, and my thighs. I moaned as he worked all the little kinks out.

Then he demanded, in that cool, collected voice of his, that my eyes stay on his while he swept his gaze over my entire body—devouring it, wanting it.

And once I realized I’d completely lost myself in his touch, I likened my reaction to that of a lamb being led to slaughter.

Obedient.

Peaceful.

Willing, in its innocence.

Until he uttered those words … Bend over across my lap, Denver.

Oh, my. Oh, my. OH. MY! Anticipation and fear battled and tangled deep within me.

Which brings me to the here and now, as Ransom scrunches my camisole nightie to rest high on my back. His fingertips skate down my spine, and he whispers how beautiful I look. How proud he is of me for trusting him to fulfill my needs.

“Do you know what you did wrong tonight?”

He didn’t tell me how to address him now, so I go with my instincts and with a sigh, I answer, “Yes, John.”

“What happens when you break one of my rules, Denver?”

Moaning, I answer, “I have to be punished, John.”

“Mmm … ” He works his hand over the fabric of my panties, complementing me on how lush and beautiful my behind is, and when his words make me squirm, I feel his hard length dig into my hip. “Be still,” he orders. Letting out a quiet sigh, I force myself to relax. “Good girl,” he praises.

After several long seconds of him torturing me with his hand and the wait, he asks, “How many do you think you deserve?”

What would happen if I say too many? Or too little?
“However many you think I deserve, John,” I reply.

“Fuck,” he grounds out. I smile against the mattress—must’ve been the right answer. “Ten. One for each time you made me hard tonight.”
Oh God!

His hand finally stops moving at my backside, but then I feel it pulling at the rubber band holding my braid. Swiftly, he unbraids my hair and pushes it off my neck. “Hmm … these cords of leather you had braided through your hair are perfect. Well, I really only need one,” he says, sounding completely unaffected. I don’t have to wonder what he means for too long. He quickly folds my arms behind my back, wrapping the soft thread of leather around my wrists before tying it up. “There. Now, we don’t have to worry about you moving around.”

I have to bite my lip before I yell at him to get on with it.

“Ready?”

“Yes, John,” I barely breathe.

The flat of his palm lands squarely on my left cheek, forcing a rush of air from my lungs. I’m relieved it didn’t actually hurt and I was able to stay still. Another smack across the other cheek, and I’m still good. I suck in a startled breath on the next spank because it’s slightly off-center and decidedly harder. He lands a couple of more slaps, never in the same place.

“Let’s see how you’re doing,” he muses, before sliding my panties down to rest at my thighs. His hand roams over my smarting bare behind, caressing and then squeezing. “Pink,” he whispers in awe. “Hot,” he breathes. “And so wet,” he rasps as he slides one finger inside me. I should be humiliated and embarrassed, and on one level I am, but turned on and proud beat those other emotions into submission.

He massages me at an infernally slow pace and peppers me with his words. “Do you have any idea what it did to me when I realized how high you asked to be taken? I fought with myself over pure pride, and paralyzing fear. If you succeeded, you’d be on top of the world. If you failed, you could have hurt yourself. But that’s OK, because now you’re making it up to me.”

His slips his finger out of me, ignoring how my body instinctively clenches around him as it tries to hold him there. When the first slap to my naked bottom sounds out across the room, so does my first cry.
Hurts
. Tears prickle my eyes as the dueling sensations of pleasure and pain work their way through me. The spanking over my clothes was just a warm-up.
This
is the real deal. Again and again, blows rain down on me, and John shushes me and whispers words of praise and encouragement. Just as I think that has to be ten, a final slap lands where the first had, my tears spill over, and two fingers enter me. And, like heat-seeking missiles, they hone in on that sweet spot, forcing an orgasm from me in record time.

He has me pinned against him so I am forced to ride out the gentle waves of pleasure, and I feel like I’m surfing and being warmed by the sun. Ransom must loosen his hold because I’m suddenly writhing in his lap, and when I do, my clit grinds against his knee. John catches my subtle movement and rewards me with a pitch to my tender bottom, ratcheting up my pleasure by yet another notch. Latching on to all those sensations extends my release, and when I start to come down, it feels like I’m free falling from heights unknown.

My hands are released from the leather cord, and I feel my body being turned and pushed up to lie on the bed properly. Ransom slides against me, his legs intertwining with mine. “Damn, baby. You were incredible. Trusting me like that, letting me have control—nothing could please me more.”

Hmm
… is all I can manage. Sated and secure, I just drift.

Blinking my eyes open, I glance around the quiet, darkened room. Looking at the clock, I realize I haven’t been out for long. The bed is empty, of course. Just like it always is after he brings me to climax. This time is going to be different, I determine. Glancing down my body, I note that Ransom must’ve shifted my clothes back in place.

My footsteps bring me to the bathroom door, and sure enough, I hear the water beating down from the shower. Other than letting me explore his chest and his back and his arms, Ransom has never let me touch him. We’re long overdue to change that.

I try the handle, and the door opens unhindered. Pushing it back slowly, I ease in the room, and the sight before me takes my breath away. God, how many times have I imagined a naked Ransom? Too many to count. He lives up to, no exceeds, every fantasy I’ve ever had. I want him inside me with a longing so fierce—like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I want to taste every inch of him, show him every bit of pleasure he’s shown me, and I’m willing to do anything to make that happen.

I stare helplessly through the clear shower door as the water cascades down Ransom’s back, over his hips, and down his legs. My senses sharpen, and I feel like I observe every single drop that rains down on his tanned, taut skin. Moving my gaze back up, I admire his strong profile as he rests his head against one folded arm. His jaw is clenched as tightly as his eyes, but then he releases a little sigh of pleasure. When my eyes slip down to see his hand clasped around his rigid cock, his hips moving rhythmically, a loud groan escapes me before I can even think to stop it.

Ransom shifts his head, his eyes opening and pinning me in place. “Denver,” he grunts. And that animalistic tone has my center clenching and needing all over again. His hips still while he stands there panting and returning my stare, no surprise on his face. Maybe he sees the inevitability of our finally being together, all coming to a head tonight.