Held for the Stud

by Vonna Harper

  Soaking up energy, heat, wanting.

  No matter how much her ass throbbed, she couldn’t deny the sensations taking place in her pussy. Her so-sensitive nerves there jumped and quivered. As if determined to absorb any and all sensation, they defied her attempts to pretend he hadn’t turned her on.

  Her body had never reacted like this, damn it! She’d long insisted on being treated like an equal, in control of her sexuality.

  “Please stop. Please—I—stop.”

  “No more trespassing? This is the last time I’ll see you here?”

  No! “Yes. Whatever—yes.”

  The strikes continued, but with more time between them and less strength. Although she was far from relaxing, the now muted blows allowed her to better assess what was happening. A drumbeat of primitive arousal was rolling through her. Every sensation resonated from the top of her head to her toes, but most of it settled in her breasts, belly and between her legs.

  There was a drunken quality to her response. Only this one thing mattered—this acknowledgment of herself as a sexual creature. She was almost sorry when he stopped using the crop. Her body continued to hum and shiver, to wait.

  Confused, she risked lifting her head and looking up at him.

  “What? You want more?”

  “No… Of course not.”

  “Your ass is a lovely red, the color covering your buttocks and the backs of your thighs, some of it between your legs. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  Not really. “I get it,” she made herself say. “Lesson made.”

  “Maybe.”

  Something about his tone had her thinking he wasn’t done talking. She set her mind to figuring out what she had to do to keep his hand still. The seconds kept ticking. Thanks to her sweat, her belly and the fronts of her thighs stuck to his jeans, but that wasn’t the only moisture coming from her.

  When he pressed against the back of her head, she lowered it and concentrated on her breathing. She couldn’t say why she was out of breath. Her body had gone somewhere it had never been, become disjointed parts. Pain played a large role, but something else was going on.

  She’d submitted. Hadn’t fought, not really.

  Why, damn it? Why?

  “Spread your legs,” he said almost conversationally.

  Weren’t they already? Apparently not, she concluded as she complied. The risk of sliding off his knees kept her from putting much space between her legs, just enough to give him access to—

  A masculine hand intruded to press on her inner thighs. His thumb grazed over her pussy lips. Whimpering, she started to arch upward, then stopped. The pressure on her pussy increased. Her mind spun.

  “What…”

  “What am I doing? I’d think you wouldn’t have to ask.”

  His thumb slipped past wet, swollen flesh and into her. She gripped his ankles, pressed her breasts against him and bowed her spine in surrender.

  Damn, but it feels good.

  He kept going, his thumb taking ever more liberty, intruding. Claiming.

  “Oh—no.”

  “No what? You’re soaked.”

  He wiggled his thumb to make his point then withdrew, taking some of her juices with him. She told herself she wanted him gone from her life, no more of him messing around where he didn’t belong and fracturing her mind. Then a finger replaced his thumb.

  “Turned on,” he muttered. “You’re fucking turned on.”

  No!

  “You aren’t going to try to argue the point?” He stroked her, reaching and withdrawing while the woman she’d been dissolved. “Tell me. This isn’t the first time this has happened? You like your sex rough.”

  Maybe. Right now, I don’t know. “How can you expect—you have no…”

  “Never mind. I don’t want to listen to you after all. Concentrate. Make sure you never forget this.”

  I won’t. I can’t.

  He laid the crop along her spine, pressed down on the small of her back and kept on finger fucking her. Her splintering mind gave up trying to hold on to some semblance of sanity. She climaxed, keening like a wild animal in heat, straining against her captor’s thighs, excited and scared.

  What happened? Where did I go?

  Chapter Four

  “I don’t see how that’s a problem,” Croft said as he handed Banner an icy bottle of beer. “It’s not like we’re running a secret government operation.” He chuckled. “The further Escape can stay away from the red tape that goes with the word ‘government’, the better. So there was just that one person?”

  Banner settled himself in a lawn chair and let the sun’s warmth seep into him as he popped the top on the bottle. He swallowed, feeling the cold booze seep through him. He’d been looking forward to this almost since he’d gotten up today. Too many days had been like this lately, a million things needing to be done when, damn it, he deserved R&R. His mind was done in, his body taut thanks to a lack of a certain kind of relief. Asha had wanted sex. He’d made her climax, but although he’d enjoyed forcing her to let go, he hadn’t expected his reaction.

  Next time, if there was one, would be different.

  “As far as I could tell it was just her.” He studied his right palm. “I’m willing to bet she won’t be back.”

  “She?” Croft leaned forward in his chair. “Why didn’t you say that before? Did you scare her off? Ugly and mean as you are—”

  “Let’s just say I got the point across that she doesn’t belong on our property.”

  “Are you saying what I think you are?”

  “Depends on what you’re thinking.”

  Croft chuckled. “I have a vivid imagination. I take it you’re hoping she’ll spread the word that we don’t want civilians, specifically women who realize it’s mostly young men here, trying to let said men know they’re available.” Croft patted his flat belly with his free hand then took a deep swallow of his beer. “Did you make that clear?”

  “I got my point across.”

  He and Croft, plus the others associated with Escape, wanted to keep the facility’s existence as private as possible. They weren’t doing anything illegal, just weren’t officially sanctioned. The government dealt with soldiers’ psyches via psychiatrists, psychologists, medication, yoga, touchy-feely meetings and God knew what else, while Escape—well, they’d soon know whether they were on the right path, specifically a much less structured one.

  “What was she doing there?”

  “I can’t be sure.” Banner tried to conjure up Asha’s image, but he hadn’t spent much time looking at her face. Now if Croft had asked what her ass looked like— “She wanted me to believe she’s concerned about the welfare of the animals that came with the purchase. I probably would have let it go at that if I hadn’t caught her around the stud.”

  “That’s where she was?” Croft looked more interested than he had a moment ago. “I’ve seen that fine piece of horseflesh. Hopefully she knew not to get within reach of those hooves. We might have gotten in over our heads with that one. You’re sure he’ll get the job done? Be a moneymaker, which we need?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  He’d spotted the big stud during an online breeding stallion auction about ten days ago. He wasn’t an expert when it came to horseflesh, but there’d been something about the way Koko had projected high-strung energy that had convinced him to bid on him. Whoever had put on the auction had provided every stud with a mare in heat so potential owners could see how the stallions performed. Koko had immediately gotten down to business, pushing the mare into a corner. He’d whinnied and whistled while pounding the ground, his head high. The action had so excited the mare that she’d lifted her tail out of the way, spread her legs and invited Koko to have at her. He’d had his long, swaying cock plowing into her and his front legs hooked around her rear end.

  He’d made sure to be around when Koko’s former owner delivered him on Monday. Koko had burst from the trailer and hit the corral at a gallop. He’d stopped just be
fore colliding with the fencing.

  “Now he’s your problem.’ The former owner had laughed. “I hope to hell you know what you’re doing.”

  “I’ve been doing some research,” Croft said. “Horse gestation is about eleven months. The sooner we get Koko to work, the sooner we’ll have big, strong, beautiful foals, the kind men who consider themselves macho would pay for. There’s only one problem.”

  “What is it?”

  Banner considered Croft a close friend, the kind of man another man could confide in and know everything he revealed would remain private. He and Croft had been through hell together. As long as they were in the army, there’d probably be more dangerous situations, which was why Escape existed.

  A lot of people thought they were related. At six foot four inches tall, with shoulders and chests that strained every garment, they spoke only when they had something to say and had walked with the same long, deceptively lazy stride. These days Croft limped, which explained why he wasn’t at the border, but he put in grueling hours forcing his leg to do everything he commanded of it so he could walk back into hell. Mostly so he wouldn’t abandon his fellow soldiers. As for Banner, the wound that had made him question his sanity and given him nightmares was under the snakelike tattoo on his back.

  “There’s the not-so-little matter of getting Koko to the mares.” Croft sighed.

  Banner yanked himself free of the dark place his mind went when he wasn’t careful. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. So was she.”

  “She?”

  “Asha, if that’s her name.” Wanting to spare Croft having to ask, he explained he’d stopped her from trying to ride Koko.

  “She was in the corral with that beast?”

  Croft rubbed his thigh where a bullet had penetrated flesh, the gesture reminding Banner of what Asha’s flesh had felt like on his thighs. His life revolved around staying alive and sane. Having something a world apart from that to focus on felt good. She had a reckless quality that mirrored his own, but damn it, she was a woman with long legs and high breasts, not a warrior. If their paths ever crossed again he’d make sure she got the message. It might keep her breathing.

  “She was,” he finally thought to answer.

  “Did Koko go after her?”

  Banner considered. “That’s the crazy thing. They seemed to understand each other.”

  “How’d you come to that conclusion? You asked and she explained?”

  “I ordered her to get the hell away from that beast.”

  “And when she didn’t move fast enough to satisfy you—what happened?”

  He held up the hand he’d used on her.

  “Shit. You’re a bastard. Hopefully she doesn’t know people in positions of authority. You could be in a world of trouble.”

  “I’m not going to concern myself with that.”

  “Because you’re a bulldozer when you believe you’re right. Changing the subject, we can’t keep Koko out there.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Croft turned toward him. “You know what I’m thinking,” he said after a silence long enough to make a lot of people uncomfortable. “We need her.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Asha, if that’s who she was, had impressed him as being trouble when he didn’t need more than he already had. He had no doubt he could bring her in line. In fact he’d enjoy doing just that, but he had to make the most of every minute that remained of his leave. If he decided to put her in charge of Koko, and it was a huge if, she had to understand that this was more than a job. Too many good but troubled men’s mental health depended on spending time at Escape learning how to ride, caring for horses, handling the foals that hopefully would be moneymakers.

  “Have you talked to the others about how to get Koko to perform?” Croft asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Croft finished his beer and reached into the cooler for another. They were sitting on the porch of what the real estate agent had called a bunk house. Situated at the north end of the acreage, it consisted of five bedrooms and an equal number of bathrooms, plus a couple of rooms large enough for several men to relax and unwind in. That plus a view of open land dotted with oaks and a pond stocked with several kinds of fish was close to perfect for what Banner, Croft and the others who believed in Escape needed.

  Being here settled him. Tamped down the restlessness. Let him forget about his scar. Kept the nightmares at bay.

  “What do you suggest?” he asked. “A group text?”

  “Skype. I want to see their reactions when we show them a video of Koko.”

  “It isn’t that big a deal.”

  “No,” Croft said, “it isn’t, but we haven’t all gotten together for, what, more than a week?”

  “About that.”

  Something overhead caught his eye. Wanting a distraction from his responsibilities as guardian of the country’s borders, he studied the winged creature’s movements. He envied the bird’s freedom, its mastery of the airways, its lack of fear.

  “Hawk?” Croft asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Bird of prey. Escape needs some of those, but it also needs songbirds. And rabbits.”

  “Deer. Horses and cows.”

  “And people who know more about livestock than you and I do.”

  Chapter Five

  Three days after she’d been spanked into what still felt like oblivion, Asha gingerly pulled her jeans into place, put on her boots and headed toward the just-shy-of-opulent barn. Fortunately, she hadn’t had to spend much time around her fellow employees at the private stables where she worked since her run-in with whomever the man was. Hopefully by tomorrow she’d no longer have to plan her movements in advance or explain why she preferred to stand.

  She’d been working at Randomwood for going on five years, longer than most of her co-workers. They spent their working hours catering to wealthy clients who equated owning racehorses with status. If she had her way, she’d have a cattle ranch. Quarter horses were sturdier than those bred to race, calmer and not as high-strung. They also understood their jobs when it came to working with cattle.

  Wishing she had a ranch and horses was a fool’s dream.

  Sighing, she left the sunlight and stepped into the barn. As much as she admired the workmanship that had gone into its construction, to her way of thinking the building and everything associated with it was a luxury. The horses stabled here weren’t impressed by the oversized stalls and exposed timbers. All they cared about was ready access to food and water.

  A pair of wealthy brothers in search of a moneymaking hobby had had the barn built on land that had long been in the family’s hands. Considering how close the property was to the border with New Undine, she and her co-workers questioned whether the location was safe. If it had been her, she would have chosen a spot far from the unstable country. That way, not only would she not have to concern herself with security, she wouldn’t be dependent on the army for safety and keeping the land out of enemy hands. The leadership in New Undine changed so often she wasn’t sure who was currently in control.

  However, as the brothers kept pointing out, their taxes paid for safety. Also, citizens deserved entertainment, which the duo provided via frequent races held at the nearby racetrack. Twice a year rodeos took place here. In addition, the brothers rented the acreage and stables to several organizations.

  According to what was told to voters, New Undine’s military force would like nothing better than to seize the border followed by nibbling away at the line between the two countries. That would never happen as long as there was a strong and dedicated military, or so politicians and military leaders assured everyone. It was vital to keep soldiers trained and armed with the latest in weapons via a healthy budget.

  Reminding herself that determining how much money the military needed and deserved was above her pay grade, she headed toward where grain was stored.

  Koko.

  As she rolled the stud’s name over
in her mind, she acknowledged how many times she’d thought about the horse. The big, beautiful creature’s life was out of her control. The man who’d tanned her naked butt made the decisions about him. It did her no good to imagine slipping a halter onto Koko and bringing him here, because it wouldn’t happen. She’d never feel him under her, never rest her hand on his shoulder, never encourage him to—

  “The horse,” she muttered. “You’re thinking about the horse, not the man.”

  Mostly.

  * * * *

  She should give herself credit for going four days before letting impulse or whatever the hell it had been get the best of her, Asha told herself as she got out of her Jeep. If she ran into the man today, she’d make it clear she had no intention of interfering with how he dealt with Koko. She simply wanted assurance the horse was being cared for. That wasn’t a crime, was it?

  Maybe. Probably. Considering how the man threw his weight around she had a pretty good idea how he’d react. Well, she’d deal with him when and if she had to. And if she didn’t see him, she’d eased her mind and return to her world.

  And if he shows up—

  “You’ll do what you always do,” she acknowledged aloud. “Stick by your guns.”

  Instead of waiting for approval or reassurance or something, she reached for a bag of grain and hoisted it over her shoulder. She’d also brought water, but most likely she wouldn’t have to haul it to the corral. Hopefully Koko wouldn’t still be there.

  That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?

  Conflicted, she kicked the Jeep door closed and headed up the hill leading to the corral. She could have driven all the way to it and the decaying barn, but doing so stood a greater chance of telegraphing her presence.

  It hadn’t rained for a couple of months, and the grasses and weeds all around had dried out. She hadn’t seen anything to hold water the other day, but she’d been more interested in getting close to Koko than checking out his accommodations.

  “Then he showed up.”

  A too-familiar shiver up her spine had her briefly closing her eyes. She again reminded herself that she was here for Koko, but the self-argument felt a little hollow. The man was too much everything and her reaction to what he’d done to her stood between her and a decent night’s sleep. Maybe she should go looking for him, get him out of her system.