Primal Surrender (11 page)

On one side stood her father and his life’s blood—Schmidt Properties, and on the other side were the people of Stone River who were accepting her and embracing her in every way except business. She had no desire to change the town, or shift their ideals. She just wanted her father to accept her as an equal, and stop treating her like a teenager whining over her zits and gossiping about her date to the prom. If she was ever going to be taken seriously as his heir to the position of CEO, then she had no choice but to push this project on the people of Stone River. No matter what her personal feelings. It just didn’t sit right.

“You’re awfully deep in thought for a woman who’s supposed to be enjoying her day off with a relaxing trail ride,” Mack said, and she looked up, startled to find they had traveled far enough she couldn’t see the Brooks family home anymore. They were surrounded by a sea of rolling hills and thick green and yellow grasses. In some areas the grass was knee-high to the horses who grazed on it. She couldn’t imagine a sight more magnificent than the peaceful serenity of this Texas ground.

“Wow. It’s so pretty here,” she declared. “This is all Brooks land?”

“Mmmhmm. They’ve owned it for decades the way I understand it.”

“How long have you known the Brooks family?” she asked, adjusting her seat in the saddle. The horse had a pleasantly even gait, but the slope of the saddle was just different enough from what she was used to that she felt a little awkward in her seat.

“I met Parker probably eight years ago when I owned my own business. He was a customer of mine, and we hit it off as friends,” Mack explained. She admired the grace he and his horse had together. A symbiotic relationship that appeared to be completely fluid and fulfilling for both man and horse. And he looked damn hot in the saddle with a cowboy hat pulled low over his brow, his trademark red bandana peeking out from underneath.

Jerking in the saddle, she fought to remember what their conversation had been about as her hormones dominated her thought process again. What was it about this man that sent her hurdling off the cliff of reason just being close?

“You had a business?” The subtle way he dropped the fact into conversation but didn’t elaborate wasn’t lost on her, but she wanted to know more about his life pre-cowboy days. “What kind of business?”

They’d reached the edge of an oval shaped pond surrounded on three sides by trees. A fire pit and a dock dominated one end of the pool, and she could imagine many a campfire late into the night with the smell of wood-smoke and burnt marshmallows heavy on the air. Mack stopped his horse and faced her, meeting her eyes before he answered her question.

“At one time in my life I was a Master leather artisan. I ran my own company, Saddle-Up Leather. I created all kinds of things out of leather. Saddles, bags, belts…even floggers and harnesses for BDSM players.” He sounded both proud and wistful about his past, “I was making money hand over fist for years, but as good as I was with leather, I was equally bad with business. I chose the wrong employees, the money was mismanaged, bills weren’t paid on time. It was a disaster of monumental proportions and the business collapsed underneath me.”

“You loved it though.” It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t expect an answer. She could see on his face and in his eyes how much he missed working his craft. “Would you show me some of your work sometime?”

His face split into a wide grin, “Sure. Look down. You’re sitting on one of my saddles.”

She felt her mouth drop open, and she heard her gasp of surprise, but she didn’t remember sliding out of the saddle and dropping to the ground to inspect it closer. Her fingers traced the deep grooves in the supple leather, and she wondered out loud how many hours something like that would take.

“An intricate one like this can take up to forty man hours. A simpler design I can have done in thirty. It just depends. Saddles are where I got my start. My father enjoyed creating them, and taught me everything he knew when he realized I had a knack for it.”

Meeting his eyes after he climbed off his own mount, she smiled up at him, “You do amazing work on saddles, Mr. Thompson, but I must admit to being curious about the other items you listed. How does one go about making harnesses and floggers?”

“Hmm, well for that kind of explanation I would really need to give you a demonstration, and it’s not going to happen today. Just suffice it to say I’ve learned what sells the best over the years by testing them in my hand and even on my own body.” His nonchalant way of stating his experience left her open mouthed again.

“You let someone flog you?” she asked. “But I thought you were into BDSM because you liked to flog women?”

Her question seemed to stop him in his tracks as he worked his brain to come up with a suitable response. His jaw tightened and relaxed more than once and his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “BDSM isn’t just about men hitting women. It’s never about abuse if it’s practiced correctly. I’m not much for inflicting pain, but it turns me on a lot to have control over another person’s pleasure. I’m Dominant ninety percent of the time, but I’ve also walked on the other side of the line. I’m what they call a Switch. I can switch back and forth between Dominating and submitting and still find my pleasure, but I lean toward the Dominant side.”

She let him lead her down the slope of the hill into the trees and over to the bank of the creek, barely noticing the saddlebags he carried until he was spreading picnic accruements on the grassy edge. He pulled out plates, silverware, and napkins, before bringing out a half dozen sandwiches, potato salad, and watermelon wedges. “This is your idea of a few sandwiches?”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t hungry. Riding is a workout when you’re not used to it. Eat up.” He passed her a bottle of water and a plate and she helped herself to the food. Bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches were one of her favorite summer foods, and she moaned as she inhaled her first sandwich.

“This is delicious. Did you make all of this?”

He nodded looking slightly uncomfortable at her praise, “It’s not a big deal, just something quick to fill the grumbly hole up. Did I make you uncomfortable with all of that BDSM talk?”

Claudia hesitated before she answered thinking her response out. “No, not really. I’m curious, not put off. When you’re being Dominant what exactly does that mean?”

“It depends on who I’m with.” She flinched at the reminder that he would have to have had a partner to explore BDSM with, and he frowned at her. “I’m not a priest, Claudia. I’m thirty-five years old. I’ve been with other women.”

A hot flush crept up her cheeks. “I know. I just don’t like thinking about the other women you’ve been with.”

He gave her a blinding smile that highlighted his perfectly straight teeth and deep dimples. “You’re jealous? Good, then we’re making progress.”

“You want me to be jealous?” she asked in confusion.

Shaking his head, he laughed, “Not necessarily, but if you are it means you care. And I definitely want you to care, sweetheart.”

He dropped a kiss on her lips but pulled away before she could deepen it. His lips were like crack and she felt like an addict. Just one taste and she was a goner. “Back to the point, what does Dominant mean to you?”

Pushing her plate away, she relaxed into the grass, resting on her side as she waited for him to answer. To her surprise he seemed completely comfortable talking about the subject.

“I prefer to be in control in my relationships for the most part. Not in the sense I need to micromanage my partner’s every waking moment—that would be a Master/slave relationship and it’s not appealing to me. Instead I like to know that if she needs something she will look to me to provide it. Whether it be comfort after a long day, a sounding board for her daily life, or mind-numbing pleasure all night long. I want to be the central focus of her life as much as she is mine, but I want her to trust me to make decisions for her benefit.”

“So you want a mindless twit you can boss around?” she asked. Her tone was righteous and indignant, but everything she knew about BDSM could be held on a tablespoon, and he wasn’t exactly making it any more appealing.

“Not at all. In fact, I prefer a partner and completely open communication. You have to be able to have an intelligent conversation with your partner, otherwise what’s the point? No, most of my Dominant tendencies appear in the bedroom, and in my over-protective nature.” He finished packing away their lunch, and stretched out on the grass beside her. Once he was settled he held out his arm, indicating that she could scoot closer. Her head settled into the crook of his shoulder, and his masculine fragrance filled her nose, addling her brain. “I find it hard to explain what I want out of a partner, because there’s a small part of me that gets a thrill out of allowing a woman to take temporary control in bed too. I’m not averse to a bit of bondage in my bed, even if it’s me being tied down.”

She could hear the blood rushing through her ears and her heart pounding as she tried not to give herself away. It wasn’t time for him to know how much his fantasy turned her on. The bedroom was the only place she ever seemed to be in control, and it scared her he might ask her to give it up completely. Her whole life was dictated by someone else. It always had been. So when she started dating, she found herself selecting men who were easily directed. Men who were on the doormat side of pushover, and none of her relationships lasted very long. Just because she wanted to take over in bed on occasion didn’t mean she didn’t want a man who could be a real man in other aspects of their relationship.

“You’re thinking an awful lot. This is supposed to be relaxing,” Mack said, and she tipped her head to find him watching her.

“You’re giving me a lot to think about. I guess I’ve always assumed people were either Dominant or submissive. Not both. I’m not sure how it can work, but I’m intrigued.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose with a chuckle. “Good, I can work with intrigued. So tell me about yourself.”

She snorted, “I’m pretty boring.”

Poking her in the side, he growled a little. “So tell me the boring basics. What’s your middle name?”

“Dawn. Claudia Dawn Schmidt. What’s yours?”

“Granger.” He rolled his eyes when she frowned in question, “It was my mom’s maiden name. I’m Cormac Granger Thompson.”

“Cormac?”

Nodding, he explained, “My father’s mother was Irish, and he and my mother wanted to honor her heritage. I hated the name as a kid, so everyone called me Mack.”

“I like Cormac, but Mack seems to suit you better. What’s Ryker’s middle name?”

“Denver. It’s where he was born. Mom and Dad had a trip to the mountains planned for their fifth wedding anniversary. Mom was seven months pregnant and she fell getting out of the cab at the hotel. It sent her into labor, and she never even made it to the mountain. Ryk was born small because he was early, so he and mom had to stay in Denver for a few weeks before she could bring him home.”

“Wow! I never would have imagined Ryker would have started out premature. He certainly grew up,” she said with a laugh. Her laughter died when she realized Mack had gone tense underneath her. Rising up on her elbows, she looked down into his face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Do you like Ryker, Claudia?” he asked bluntly.

“Of course I like him, Mack. Why are you asking?”

Shaking his head, he gave her a concerned frown, “No, I mean do you
like
like him?”

Her eyes were rolling before he even got the whole question out of his mouth, “Are you fucking kidding me? What’s next, a note that says check yes or no? We’re not in junior high, Mack. Spit it out.”

In an instant she found herself on her back, with Mack sprawled over her. His large frame pinning her to the soft grass, with his hips wedged between her thighs. Her wrists were held loosely above her head in one of his massive hands, while the other hand gripped her hair, holding her in place.

Dilated pupils and flaring nostrils told her he wasn’t joking when he snarled down at her. “You know what I mean, sweetheart. Do you want to fuck, Ryker? Do you want his cock in your pussy, fucking you, claiming you? I know you want me. I see it in your eyes, and I smell it on the air every time you get close to me. So tell me the truth. Do you want Ryker just as much?”

Air pumped out of her lungs wickedly fast as she tried to contain her rising lust. Between his body position, his angry possessiveness, and his dirty talk she was ready to fuck without another word, but it wouldn’t help this situation.

“Yes. Damn it. I’m attracted to Ryker. His kiss turned me on, and I’ve thought about him. I’m sorry if it hurts you, Mack, but it’s the God’s honest truth. I won’t lie to you.”

She watched him apprehensively; terrified he would pull away from her now that she had admitted her attraction to Ryker. Instead, his fingers clenched tighter around her ponytail, and he rocked forward, grinding his erection against the inflamed V of her thighs and making her moan out loud.

“Thank you for being honest. Now, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think Ryker and I are built the same way the Brooks brothers are, or the Keegan brothers are. I can’t see us sharing a house for much longer, much less a woman. We’re two very different people, and I understand your attraction to him. All I’m asking is that you let me show you how good it can be between the two of us, before you decide if you want to pursue Ryker.” Worry filled his eyes, but it was tempered by his desire. He had amazing self-control because she was ready to self-combust.

It took her several tries, but she managed to squeak out, “Yes.”

A satisfied smirk lit up his features before his mouth dropped to hers, and he began his seduction. As his kiss branded her lips, she felt it leave a permanent mark on her heart too. He may not realize it yet, but she had already given her heart to him. The only catch was his younger brother had a grip on it too.

*****

Mack couldn’t believe his good fortune. Not only did he find a woman who was beautiful, intelligent, and kind hearted, but she seemed to genuinely care about him as a person. Since he declared bankruptcy on his life’s work, and walked away from Saddle-Up, he had avoided dating. It was completely out of character for him to walk up to a woman and ask her out, but with Claudia it seemed natural. Something about her hooked him in from the moment he heard the whiskey notes of her voice, and spotted her lush curves. He wanted her with every fiber of his being, but the scary part was he already knew he needed her too. Three days shouldn’t have been enough to feel that way, but somehow it was.