Going Home [Party on the Prairie 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)
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Party on the Prairie 1
Going Home
Kira Knudson spent most of her adult life avoiding the place she was raised. She never referred to her grandfather’s farm as her home, and she certainly had not friends from her youth. So when Kira returns to the farm to help her grandfather in his final days, she can’t imagine that she will stay once he passes.
Rock Pyre is a middle-aged man looking for a place to stay as he earns some quick money in the oil fields and find a quiet piece of property on which to retire. Meeting the innocent and obviously misjudged Kira isn’t something that he expected but everything that he needs.
With Rock’s protection and his promise to help, Kira realizes that people will judge her no matter what and as long as she is honest with herself she can handle it. After all, home is where the heart is.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Older H/h
Length: 86,110 words
GOING HOME
Party on the Prairie 1
Redrae Gunn
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
GOING HOME
Copyright © 2013 by Redrae Gunn
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-497-6
First E-book Publication: September 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Going Home by Redrae Gunn from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Redrae Gunn’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Gunn’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
First of all I have to thank Siren Publishing for giving me the opportunity to publish with them. I also have to thank Harris Channing for the unbelievable work on the cover and the editors for their keen grasp of punctuation, points of view, and dialog tags.
I thank my Granny N for providing the happy memories in the setting of this book. (Congratulations on your recent marriage and I wish you a happily ever after.)
Finally, I must thank Rick, my rock, for not being too upset at all the time that I have spent pounding away on a keyboard in my garden. I also need to thank him for being the Master that I needed. Home is where the heart is.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
About the Author
GOING HOME
Party on the Prairie 1
REDRAE GUNN
Copyright © 2013
Chapter 1
Kira looked out the front screen door and into the yard. The snow sparkled brightly in the winter sun. A testament to the frigid air temperature were the snow dogs that hugged the sun on the southern horizon. So little daylight this time of year, especially this far north. She sipped her coffee and thought of Tampa, Atlanta, New Orleans, San Diego, San Francisco, Denver, Phoenix, and all the other places that she had resided. She walked into the bathroom just off of the dining room and pulled her curly, shoulder length blonde hair into a ponytail. Her bangs curled around her face and she stared into the mirror at her dark-green eyes. Thirty-five years old and she was once again playing these games. These games that she swore she’d never play again. Welcome home.
She left the bathroom, walked through the dining room, through the living room, and down the hallway to the only door on the right, her bedroom. She opened one of the sliding mirrored doors to her closet and went to the right side of it. This was the side that she chose from when she was here. She looked over her shoulder, longingly, at the other side of the enormous walk-in closet. Her outfits, the maid, the tight spandex, the barely-cover-her-ass leather skirts, the naughty nurse, the school-girl, and many more hung, begging her to choose them.
Instead, she looked at the jeans, not the pretty skintight ones adorned with glittering sequins or fashionable faded patches. She grabbed a pair of the other ones, that didn’t go with sassy sandals or sexy, knee-high boots. This worn pair of jeans went with her work boots, her it’s-too-cold-and-you’re-too-far-away-from-the-city tan, steel-toed boots. Size six.
Kira couldn’t wear the shiny leather vests with chains and zippers over the breasts, or the gothic t-shirts with holes in the torso, or the delicate lace camis that hugged her like a second skin. She instead chose a large sweatshirt and threw it, along with the jeans and boots, on the king-size bed. She smiled as one of the boots bounced across the bed and hit the dark medieval headboard. She loved the dark wood frame that had three metal rings on both the headboard and footboard. If she had to pretend to be someone else while she was awake, then at least in her sleep she could be herself.
Two matching tables on each side of the bed held lamps meant to mimic medieval candelabras, and she looked at the matching armoire and the dresser with an attached mirror. She pulled
out a pretty pink thong and matching bra from the dresser. She wasn’t going to give up her frilly panties and bra for garbage bag underwear and a sports bra. Hell no. She thought about wearing the thigh-high pantyhose and garter belt just to complete her undergarments but she didn’t want the hose to get ruined by the scratchy jeans.
Kira looked at herself in the mirror and felt like Clark Kent covering up Superman. Fitting in on the outside and being herself underneath the costume. She grabbed her backpack, headed out of her room and to the end of the hall. She entered the door to the garage and looked at the two vehicles parked inside. Her adorable white Smart car sat next to the black four-door Dodge Ram 2500. The difference was like night and day, just like her closet of clothes and her personalities. She flipped off the Ram and backed her Smart car out of the garage. The roads would be fine to Watford City and back as long as she didn’t get run over by some sleepy oil-field driver. When she rolled through the tiny unincorporated town of Keene, she decided breakfast would be just fine at Dixie’s Café on Main Street.
Kira smiled at the thought of a main street. The town had three streets, including Main, and two avenues. With only two cars out front, both with out-of-state license plates, she was sure that she had little chance of running into anyone she knew aside from the owner.
There were two oil field workers inside, seated at separate tables. The cook came to take her order. She knew him from her frequent stops. He wasn’t from here, originally.
“Kira, I thought you’d be headed back to the big city now that…” Matt trailed off.
“Now that pops is dead?” Kira finished, saving Matt from his embarrassment. “He knew he was going to die, I just helped him through the final stages. It’s okay.” Kira looked at Matt and saw that he was still embarrassed about his lack of sympathy. “I’m sticking around to make sure that everything is in order. He didn’t want me to sell the farm and I don’t want to rent it out.”
“That’s decent of you,” Matt said. He finished taking her order and went back to the kitchen.
Kira pulled out her iPad, frowned slightly when she didn’t find a Wi-Fi signal and then remembered where she was. She yanked out her cell phone, made it a mobile hot spot, and continued to browse through her emails. She had a couple of clients that wanted to meet her. They had something of a special order for her to design and build. They were willing to pay a hefty price and come directly to her shop to see her other merchandise.
Kira’s heart pounded. She knew that this would happen. She made excellent furniture. It was different when she had rented shop space in the city. There were always people coming and going. There was always a friend that she could have come over if a client wanted a private meeting to discuss plans, designs, and options. Not the case here. Her closest neighbor was over a mile away and her friend list was zero.
When Matt delivered her breakfast, Kira decided to at least ask. “So now that I am out there by myself, I was wondering if you knew anyone that needed to rent a room.”
“Everyone out here needs a place to stay,” Matt said.
“I’m talking about someone reliable, with references,” Kira said hoping that he wouldn’t suggest someone she knew. “Maybe someone that you know personally.”
“There is a guy, his name is Rock. That’s no lie. It’s on his license. Imagine naming your kid after a stone. He’s been staying at the Hudson’s, but they have a daughter moving back so they’ve been looking to set him up somewhere.” Matt tapped his chin. “He comes in on Sunday mornings around ten. Seems like a really nice guy, especially since the Hudsons trust no strangers. I could give him your name, number, or directions to your place or you could meet him here.”
“Meet him here,” Kira said instantly. There was safety in numbers and she didn’t need a stranger showing up to her house when she was alone. She hadn’t survived living in the city only to die while she was at the farm.
Matt nodded his head and Kira felt some of the tension start to leave her head. She sketched some designs on a notebook while she finished her breakfast. When she paid, she gave Matt her number and told him to call her if anything changed. Otherwise she would be back on Sunday.
She continued into Watford City to the Jack and Jill. She ignored the rolling eyes as people looked at her Smart car. She managed to run into only five people that she knew and she figured that maybe it was her lucky day.
When she loaded up her groceries she glanced around the parking lot. In the sea of oversized Ford and Chevy pickups her Smart car did look completely out of place, especially being a convertible in the middle of winter. It had been awesome in Tampa and Phoenix. The awkward feeling was why she had left home as soon as she could. That was the problem. She had left, aspired for more, wanted to see the world, experience different cultures, and find herself.
The house was so quiet when she got home and she looked at her cell phone. As if on command, it rang and Kira couldn’t answer it fast enough when she saw it was her Latino friend, Carmen, from Tampa, wondering if there was anyway Kira could come for girl’s getaway.
Thirty minutes later Kira was laughing hysterically as she threw clothes from the left side of her closet into her suitcase. She was blowing this popsicle stand and didn’t care if the house was vacant for the next five days. She needed this. She owed this to herself. On the flight, she checked her reservations again. She would be back in the frozen tundra on Saturday morning. Perfect timing. She could still meet the potential housemate at Dixie’s Café on Sunday.
* * * *
Kira stretched out on the beach. She was so happy that in the middle of December she was wearing shorts. She let her body soak up the sun. Carmen was in long pants and a sweatshirt. She shook her head at Kira and laughed with her friend, teasing her about how cold it was.
“It’s almost seventy.” Kira closed her eyes and smiled, listening to the waves hit the sand. She popped two aspirin and finished off her bottle of water. They had hit the fetish clubs hard last night. Kira hadn’t participated because she just hadn’t found the right partner for her but she had gotten to feel free again, a part of something, not closed off from the rest of the world.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t give it up for that adorable Puerto Rican,” Carmen said. “You like that dark skin.”
“He was yummy, but he didn’t have what I need.” Kira remembered the Dominant from the night before. Carmen was right. He had been nearly perfect. He just didn’t have that edge, the powerful, calm, double-sided edge that she needed to submit.
“Olivia was beautiful, like always,” Carmen admitted, shaking her head. “I was nearly ready to experience a little lesbian action after I saw what she did with that girl on the St. Andrew’s cross.”
“I almost kneeled at her feet when she walked by,” Kira whispered. “She is always so intense. She has it. The edge. She kissed my cheek and rubbed her hand across my chest. My nipples were on fire.”
“I didn’t see that,” Carmen scolded Kira. “What?”
“Then she did this thing.” Kira blushed furiously. “She grabs my chin and makes me look her in the eyes. I nearly disintegrated to a puddle on the floor. Then this little frown comes over her face and she reminded me that I like men. She said it so sweetly that I couldn’t help but hug her, because she knew. She knew that I didn’t care right then. She’s an awesome Domme.”
“What did she do when you hugged her?” Carmen asked.
“She patted my head, said I was a sweet sub, and thanked me for the hug,” Kira said, shrugging her shoulders. “She kissed my forehead and walked away. That’s when she did that scene with that older man on the spanking bench. Haven’t they been together for a while? That was Charles right?”
“Yes, they’ve been together forever. Charles loves Olivia. She knows it and I wonder if she loves him, too. Their scenes are always hot,” Carmen said. “She scenes with tons of other women but if Charles is there she never does a scene with another man. She’s very respectful of him.”
/> “I’ve noticed that,” Kira said. “He looked so happy with his head against her thigh. She was so aware of him, protective of him. She obviously swings both ways though, huh?”
Carmen nodded and they were both lost in thoughts of the previous night’s activities. Then they started talking about the other nights. Carmen scolded Kira for not getting laid and Kira kept defending herself. None of the Dominants that she had met in the past three nights had what it took. She needed the edge. The thin line. The complete control. Only beautiful, black Olivia had what she needed. Sure, there were probably other Dominants that had the edge but either they hadn’t been interested or they were already busy.
Kira didn’t care. She’d had a great time. She sighed as she glanced at her watch. She needed to be at the airport in a couple of hours. She didn’t want to leave.
“Why are you staying up there?” Carmen finally asked. “I don’t want any bullshit answer either.”
“To be honest with you, it’s the shop.” Kira shrugged her shoulders when Carmen raised her eyebrows. “I have two Quonsets to store the items. One is temperature controlled so the leather won’t be damaged and my grandpa’s shop has all the welding supplies that I will ever need, with plenty of room to have multiple pieces going on at the same time. It’s also the memory of pops. It is home after all.”
“You told me about how you were shunned for leaving,” Carmen said. “I don’t want to see you miserable. It’s been too long. A year is much too long. I barely recognized you in the airport, you were so pale. Seriously, you put the white in Caucasian.”