Ropin' Hearts: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 4 (6 page)

She gave a shiver of mock horror.

“My brother tried to fight off the sentence, pleading his case. It only dug him in deeper. Mom was a tough one to argue with.”

Bree rested onto her back again, her mind deep in her own childhood arguments. Especially one. It still niggled at her.

“The last fight I had with my mom was over the phone.”

He grew still. This time his silence was a gift. When had someone truly listened to her?

“I was at college. Some friends were going to San Diego for a weekend and I wanted to go.” She swallowed down the burning guilt at how she’d spoken to her mother that day.

“Your parents weren’t in agreement?”

“No, they weren’t. I yelled at my mom and said…she wasn’t taking care of me anymore. The least she could do was put money in my account for a long weekend getaway.”

Ty was hovering over her suddenly, eyes soft. Her chest did an emotional stutter thing, coming against his, but he didn’t move or tell her not to be upset that she’d fought with her mom.

“That was our last conversation before Daddy called and told me about the cancer.” Her voice sounded small and wispy. But Ty heard.

With extreme tenderness he directed a lock of her hair behind her ear then leaned in and kissed the spot between her brows. She let her eyes fall shut, drinking in the man he truly was. He wasn’t judging her or making her feel more guilt than she was already burdened with.

She slipped her hand around his nape and held him close, just breathing the same air. After five breaths, unease stole over her. She didn’t like sharing that time in her life, not even with her father. And she really didn’t like remembering.

She couldn’t let this be her last statement to Ty. Her brain caught up and she found she did have a smart remark to bait him with.

“Did you forget to take your pill today?”

“What?” He pushed away to stare into her eyes.

“Your blue pill. The one that keeps you going. You have a willing woman alone and you’re not even aroused.” She pushed upward against his hips, noting a leap against her lower belly that said she’d spoken too soon.

“I don’t need a pill to keep me hard.” Amusement quirked his lips upward.

“No?” she taunted. Damn, he was like cowboy crack and she was suddenly a junkie.

“Nope. I can go all…night…long.”

His drawled words and the intense way he looked at her dialed up her need. But instead of taking her, he pulled her to her feet and took her back to the fence.

“I’d tell you to stay off the ranch, but I know you won’t, Bree. So I’ll just say ‘see you later’.” He dropped her a wink she would feel the repercussions of for days.

The country singer’s powerhouse note trilled through the bar. Couples revolved on the dance floor and cowboys were bellied up to the bar. Bree leaned back in her chair, bored out of her mind.

She pinched the straw in her fruity drink, between her fingers, and stirred. She had as much interest in her beverage as she did this scene. In her college days she’d gone to bars like this looking for some fun, but now…she felt far removed.

The kind of fun she was looking for was on the Boot Knockers Ranch.

In the past month since her escapade in the mud with Ty and—what was his name?—she’d come to realize she needed something more than what she’d been originally searching for. The other Boot Knocker was a hunk but she needed more than a fun romp.

Like something Ty had given her with only his words and looks. Hell, even that hosing off had revved her engine. Why?

She’d been trying to figure that out, with no luck. And she’d had plenty of time to think. She’d attempted to keep her father happy by hanging around the ranch and acting like the perfect daughter. Tonight she’d come out with her old high school girlfriend Tia as a way to shut off her brain for a night.

She couldn’t get Ty’s dark, smoldering stare out of her head. She displeased the hell out of him, so why was that a turn-on?

“Wanna dance?” A cowboy extended a hand, smiling at her from under his battered hat brim.

She shook her head. She had no interest in a cowpoke when men like the Boot Knockers existed. “She might want to dance.” She pointed at her girlfriend, who jumped to her feet, throwing Bree an unapologetic grin as she was whirled onto the dance floor.

The song changed and a line dance broke out. Sighing, Bree hunched over her drink and sipped it. Strawberry and alcohol teased her taste buds but she wanted so much more.

She had to get to the Boot Knockers Ranch. Not to find Ty—no, she needed to avoid that tease at all costs. But to find someone who made her insides tingle as much as Ty had that day, and who actually delivered.

She glanced at the wall clock sporting a beer logo. It was late, but maybe slipping in under cover of darkness would work. She understood a bit more about the workings of the ranch now, and surely she could find someone to play with.

Standing, she gathered her itty-bitty jeweled handbag and waved at her friend until she caught her attention. She waved Bree away, laughing and having fun with her dance partner.

Outside Bree welcomed the cooler air on her hot skin. Suddenly she was overheated with the thought of sneaking onto the forbidden ranch. She slipped into her Jeep and headed out of town.

What did the Boot Knockers do on Friday nights? She was about to find out. Grinning, she navigated the roads to the ranch.

The road forked. Left and she’d end up at home, sitting in front of the TV with her father. Right was sexy cowboy heaven.

Or hell.
She wanted to jump into the fires of lust and sin with those hot cowboys. She took the right turn. Partway down the dirt road leading to the ranch, she pulled off into the high weeds and parked. She’d walk in.

When she reached the ranch, not many lights greeted her. Maybe Friday nights were spent in the bungalows having mind-blowing sex
.

Tonight I’m getting under one of those red roofs.

The walk did nothing to ease the ache between her legs or cool her thoughts. The closer she got, the more worked up she became. She moved through the night, head swinging side to side and heart thumping. If Ty found her, what would he do this time? Take her to the cops?

No matter, she could sweet-talk her way out of any charge. Ty was no match for her, no matter what he said.

As she approached the swimming pool, soft voices reached her. She paused, straining to hear. She poked her head around the corner, drinking in the view of a woman with short hair settled on the side of the pool, legs spread and her knees up around someone’s ears. In the darkness, the woman’s features were blurred, but her sounds revealed her pleasure.

Bree’s nipples tightened into hard gems. Longing burned hot in her, brighter than the moon. She sneaked away and wandered the ranch but didn’t run into any more lovers taking their pleasure in the open. And damn if she wasn’t half disappointed not to have run into Ty yet.

In fact, it bothered the hell out of her that he was probably snuggled up with another woman, giving her that same smoldering look that had burned into Bree’s mind.

There was one unexplored spot on the ranch—the big metal building lured her. The door opened quietly and candles flickered within, pointing her way to a stage.

Her step faltered as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. A glorious man in a cowboy hat and leather pants, wielding a whip over a woman’s flesh. She was tied to a stool, her bare ass reddened by his attentions.

An invisible rope connected to Bree’s pussy yanked, and her panties flooded. She clung to the shadows, watching but yearning to participate. This was just the sort of thing she’d come to the ranch to be part of.

Before she knew her own intentions she was leaving a trail of clothes right up to the stage. When she set foot onto the gleaming floor totally nude, the man in leather turned to her, eyes shining.

His gaze raked over her, leaving her feeling more exposed and almost as shaky as she had under Ty’s blazing eyes.

“I’m Bree.” She held her head high, breasts thrust forward, leg extended to show it off.

He tipped his hat. “Stowe. They call me the Dom from Down Under.” She could see why—or hear it, rather. His Australian accent licked her senses. Wetness pooled on her inner thighs.

“Have you ever played before?”

“No.” Her word released as a shiver.

“Pick a word, darlin’.” His accent seemed to mix with a Texas drawl, making her nerves leap.

“A word?”

“Any word that has importance to you but comes to mind easily.”

She searched her mind, feeling like a blank dunce. She dropped her gaze over his chiseled body to the bulge distending black leather. “Longhorn.” It was her university’s mascot, as well as the cattle her daddy raised.

His mouth quirked at one side but he gave a nod. “Longhorn it is. Take your place, Bree.”

She could hardly make her legs move. She looked between several pieces of furniture scattered around the stage. Padded stools, benches, something with pulleys and ropes. And a cross.

She’d heard about such crosses in sex play but had never seen one. She moved toward it as if tugged by one of those ropes. He lashed the kneeling woman two more times then walked across the stage. His steps were slow and measured and his face looked wicked.

“Place your back against the cross.”

She did, quaking inside.

“Now stretch your arms onto the X.”

While he roped her onto the frame, she watched him. God, he was a beautiful man. Dark-haired, his jaw angular and rough with stubble. A whip tattoo curved around his pec and his biceps bulged as he pulled the ropes restraining her wrists tight.

“Okay, darlin’?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded almost normal, even if she was shaking.

He tied her ankles next. When he lingered in a crouch, nose brushing near her pussy, she cried out.

“Beautiful. Just like that, Bree. Let yourself free to feel and the experience will be richer. I’ll keep you safe, but if you get frightened, say longhorn.”

She nodded.

He walked away from her. She twisted her head to watch him deliver a few more light blows to the other woman’s bare ass. She wore a ball gag and her sounds were muffled, but Bree understood they weren’t cries of pain.

Tingling with awareness, she waited. Stowe paced back to her, a short whip with a leather handle in his grip. “We’ll start small. Work you up good before I tell you when to release.”

“I need it now,” she said breathlessly.

“I like my girls eager, but that sort of behavior won’t do, Bree. You wait for your Master to make the choice for you.”

“No. Please. I came here to get what I need.”

He flicked the whip, and short tassels licked over her bare breast. She sucked in a sharp breath, struggling against her bonds. “Hold still,” he ordered.

“Use the handle of that whip in my pussy.”

“No,” he barked.

She hung on the cross, chastised but dripping wet. Too many minutes passed while he returned to the other woman and made her squeal with pleasure. He sucked her nipples, painted her juices over her clit and then did exactly what Bree wanted—he slid the whip handle into the other woman’s pussy and fucked her until she grew pink and screamed her release.

Bree watched from hooded eyes, burning, needing what he was giving that woman. Why wasn’t he punishing
her
? She wiggled, rattling the cross. Then Stowe turned his attention to her.

When Ty entered the auditorium, he felt the change in the air. Excitement hung there, along with a silence he couldn’t wrap his head around. He walked down the center aisle, thinking to take a seat and watch Stowe in action. Since that night he’d fantasized about controlling Bree, he’d become more fascinated with the BDSM life.

He stopped dead.

Long, blonde hair hung around a delicate oval of a face he recognized. Bree. Splayed on the cross, her trim patch of pale curls glistening in the candle flames lighting the stage.

Stowe had the crop and he was spanking her hard, pink nipples.

A roar built in Ty’s chest as he stampeded down the aisle. He mounted the stage in one leap, temples pounding with fury. He ripped the crop from Stowe’s hand and threw himself in front of the woman who had no goddamn business here.

“Ty!”

“I’ll deal with you later,” he told Bree a split second before Stowe barreled into him. He rocked Ty’s head with a punch to the jaw. Ty felt his jaw creak under the force. Blood filled his mouth, driving his anger.

He threw himself at Stowe, landing an uppercut to the midsection and another to the man’s cheek.

“I’ll kick your ass for interrupting, Ty. She was in her headspace,” Stowe growled.

Jesus, her headspace? No one was putting Bree anywhere unless Ty did it. He launched himself at Stowe, flattening him onto the stage. They struggled, fists flying, boots glancing off shins. Ty took a hit to the left nut that punched the breath from him. But he’d taken worse hits from stronger men, cattle too. He came back twice as strong, giving Stowe a blow that made him curl up like a bug.

Ty scrambled to his feet, spit a glob of blood and grabbed his knife from his pocket. Bree’s eyes grew round as he came at her with the blade. He edged it beneath the ropes binding her and cut her down.

“Get your clothes. You’re coming with me.”

She didn’t move. Dammit, was she still in some strange, dreamlike headspace under Stowe’s spell? Almost roaring his displeasure, Ty wrapped his fingers around her waist. Her breasts were pink from blows, and her arousal fogged the air.

Stowe was on his feet, glaring. “Don’t ever come back to this stage, Ty.”

“No problem.” He dragged Bree off. Her clothes were spread up the side aisle like breadcrumbs leading into the forbidden forest. Pissed off more than he ever had been in his life, he picked them up and shoved them into her arms. She stared straight ahead, eyes glassy.

Hell, what if she was really hurt? Maybe she needed to be brought back like a hypnosis patient. For several minutes he caressed her bare body, checking her for marks. Her wrists were pink but nothing that needed attention. When she started to pull away from his touch, he locked her against his side and walked her naked ass out of the auditorium.