by BJ Wane
Nan didn’t look worried as she bit into a sugar cookie. “I’m betting Kelsey beats me to it, after all, sharing a bed with two men offers twice the opportunities to plant that seed.”
The bell above the teashop door chimed as two women entered and took a seat. Nan rose to wait on the newcomers, a twinkle in her eyes as she smiled at Lillian. “If you get a chance to meet both her guys and don’t envy Kelsey, there’s something seriously wrong with you. You can ride out to the Dunbar’s with me when I close up here and stay overnight at our place afterward, if you want. Just let me know next week.”
She wasn’t a prude, but the images popping into Lillian’s head flushed her face with heat as Nan walked away and she turned toward Avery. “Two?”
“Oh, yeah.” Avery fanned herself with an impish grin.
Lillian returned her smile and then asked, “What else can I bring that you and your friends can have?”
“Nothing, we’re good.” Avery rose with her. “Sydney was a chef at a fancy restaurant before moving here, and now she cooks for all the hands on the Dunbar ranch. She’d be offended if you brought something, even a bottle of wine, and trust me, anything she makes is great.”
“Then I look forward to it, and to meeting your friends. Thank you for inviting me.” She waved to Nan before walking out with Avery.
“I have to put in a few hours at the IT office in Billings this afternoon. What are your plans?” Avery asked, fishing her keys out of her purse.
“Painting. I’m behind and there are a few shows I want to attend this spring and summer.”
Avery’s eyes brightened with interest. “Don’t leave town before I get a chance to see your work.”
The afternoon sun warmed her face as Lillian opened her car door, lifting her hand in agreement. “Come by any time.”
With a wave, Avery pulled out and Lillian drove in the opposite direction toward Mitchell’s street, unsettled by the pang she experienced when Avery mentioned her leaving. She’d hung around Willow Springs for two weeks and the welcome she received from everyone she’d met had put a crack in the ice surrounding her heart that left her so cold following Liana’s death. The way Nan and Avery had pulled her into a quick friendship even though she was just passing through had prompted her to linger in the small pleasant town, and then she’d seen Mitchell again.
As she parked in front of his garage and her thoughts switched to her temporary landlord, she wondered how much he had played into her staying so long. Other than last Sunday evening when he’d come up to ask if there was anything she needed, she’d only seen him from the upstairs window as he left for work each morning. His face had been stamped with disapproval when he’d chided her for not waiting for his help to haul her things up the stairs, but then he’d let her be, just as she had him. That hadn’t kept her dreams from continuing to relive that one hour in his cabin when his hard hands had delivered the most powerful orgasms of her experience.
“I might have to move on just to forget that night, and that damn man,” she muttered, entering the cozy apartment and shucking her coat. A Murphy bed was folded up against the wall and a small sofa faced a television mounted on the opposite wall. The compact kitchenette with apartment-size appliances took up the third wall space with the bathroom and a closet located off a short hallway. The one large window offered a wide view of the open fields behind the street and a glimpse of the side driveway. The piles of snow from the blizzard two weeks ago were already melted down to small mounds here and there with peeks of dried grass showing. White swirls of snow decorated the far-off mountain peaks and she could only imagine the stunning view come summer.
Turning away from the vista and the thought of so far in the future, Lillian settled behind her easel set up in front of the window and got back to work. If anything could keep her from fantasizing about another scene with the country doctor, losing herself in her art could.
That evening, Lillian started a new painting off a picture she’d taken of Mitchell’s cabin, and was still immersed in putting that scene on canvas late the next day, Friday afternoon. Something about the rustic abode with its backdrop of ice crystal-draped trees and plume of smoke traveling up into the gray sky appealed to her. Before getting stranded there with him, the closest she’d gotten to roughing it was when she and Liana spent a week at a Colorado ski resort, complete with their own private hot tub and an indoor pool. She was quite proud of herself for handling the tight, drafty quarters, limited hot water and basic meals so well, not to mention her autocratic but considerate rescuer. Those off the charts orgasms likely lessened the memory of how uncomfortable those few days were.
The heavy clomp of feet tromping up the side staircase reached her ears as she noticed the time. It ceased surprising her how fast the hours flew by unnoticed when she couldn’t pull herself away from her work.
Mitchell’s irritated voice followed a sharp rap on the door. “Lillian, I need to talk to you.”
Even annoyed his deep baritone could deliver that warm rush she had never experienced with another man, and that irked her. Striding to the door, she flung it open with a glare. A shiver went through her, but whether from the cold air or the swirling emotion turning his hazel eyes more brown than green, she wasn’t sure. Reminding herself this was his place and she was staying here for free, Lillian lightened her frown and stepped back to let him in.
“What’s up? Did I disobey some unspoken rule of tenancy?”
Mitchell brushed by her, his sheepskin coat flapping open to reveal he was still dressed in slacks and a button up shirt, the attire she’d seen him wearing every morning as he left for the clinic. The fact she couldn’t help glancing out the window at exactly 7:30 a.m. every day this past week was another deviation from her character that puzzled her.
He turned to face her as she closed the door, fisting his hands on his hips. “No, you reneged on our bargain.”
Puzzled, Lillian searched her memory and then recalled the appointment she was supposed to make at his clinic, realizing he was right. Oops. She shrugged and offered him a self-deprecating smile. “Not on purpose. I meant to, but I started a new painting and completely forgot.” Instead of forgiving her, Mitchell narrowed his eyes, his reply amusing her even as it sent a small thrill trickling through her veins.
“Someone should have taken you in hand years ago.”
With her hair pulled up in a scraggly ponytail, a smudge of white paint on her face, a pinched frown between her eyes and her cute bare feet showing below her long skirt, Mitchell’s first glimpse of Lillian all week struck him like a sucker punch to the stomach. The paint-spattered, loose flannel shirt she wore untucked from the denim skirt was a sloppy deviation from the winter wool slacks and dressy sweaters he’d seen her in before. And yet, his quicksilver response was the same.
All week he’d checked his schedule and watched the clinic’s doors for her to keep the appointment she’d promised him. More than concern for a patient had prodded him into obsessing over her continued absence, and he’d fought against confronting her until closing today. Giving up the battle, he figured she would argue she didn’t need the x-rays or checkup, thus giving him a good reason to put her out of his mind once and for all.
Instead, she shook him with that small taunting smile and admitted her fault. Why couldn’t she act in a predictable manner and make dealing with her easier? Like at the cabin, one minute she would berate him for being bossy and the next, start a playful snowball fight without warning. He sure as hell wasn’t prepared for the gleam that entered her eyes and tilt of her head as she smirked with a comeback that rattled his control.
“Gee, Doc, do you want to spank me?”
Mitchell could tell she didn’t take that comment seriously, but he did. His palm still tingled whenever he recalled the warmth of her soft buttocks after he’d delivered those light smacks at the cabin and it itched now for a repeat. He needed to turn the tables on her fast and delegate her to the status of every other woman he’d scened wi
th since losing his beloved Abbie. That of a submissive acquaintance.
Taking a step forward, he cupped her chin and held her head up, keeping her eyes on him as he replied, “In the worst way, pet. I enjoyed playing with your ass before and wouldn’t mind another chance, especially if it leads to you keeping your end of our bargain and getting those x-rays.”
Surprise and a flare of heat entered her direct gaze, but he could see her fighting against remembering the arousal his touch had produced. She jerked against his grip and he released her. The rapid fluttering of her pulse in her neck was enough to prove how much he’d affected her.
Her slim brows dipped into another frown. “It was an honest memory lapse, not a deliberate attempt to go back on my word. I’m not one of those women who wants to kneel at your feet and let you dictate to me.”
Lillian took a step back and Mitchell moved forward, refusing to let her off the hook yet. “Afraid you won’t measure up? You needn’t be. I don’t compare.” Her shoulders went rigid and back, a telling sign she didn’t back down from a challenge. Good to know.
The taunting smile returned. “I’m not afraid of any man. Just ask my ex.”
“Don’t mention that ass to me,” he warned in a hard tone. The bruises might appear almost gone, but he would always remember his first look at the trauma inflicted upon her delicate features. She took another step in retreat, and he followed. “If that’s the case, then I can only surmise you’re afraid you’ll like it. You didn’t complain or stop me last time.” Mitchell questioned his sanity in needling her but couldn’t seem to stop himself.
Bumping up against the couch, Lillian waved a hand with a shake of her head. “That was foreplay. Is that what you’re suggesting? Because I might go for that.”
Mitchell chuckled, enjoying the back and forth with her. It was something he hadn’t done with a woman since his preference for dominant control took over his sexual encounters about fifteen years ago. He could tell she couldn’t decide whether to be peeved or amused by the suggestion. His chest tightened as he once again found he needed to put her in the same category as the others, even if she wasn’t a submissive.
In a move that caught her unaware, he snatched her hand, sank down onto the couch and yanked her over his knees, taking a chance this would do the trick for both of them. “I’m thinking more along the lines of a disciplinary lesson that will help you remember to keep your promise the next time. Lie still.”
She stuttered on a laugh, whipping her head around to look up at him with bright eyes. “This is ridiculous. A grown woman lying over a man’s lap like a recalcitrant child.”
“I figured you would berate me for being bossy again.” Placing a hand on her butt, he kneaded the soft flesh through her calf-length skirt and watched her eyes darken with arousal as she stiffened. “You’re definitely not a child.” He never claimed to play fair.
Lillian struggled with dual responses to Mitchell’s highhandedness and coaxing touch. It was difficult to discern which was strongest, the hot gush pooling between her legs from that intent gaze and fondling hand, or the need to prove she didn’t go for the dominant, bossy type as she’d claimed. He settled the matter in the next second, while their eyes were still locked and he slid down her thigh to inch up her skirt. The cool air wafting over her exposed legs didn’t temper the heat spreading from her face to her toes.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Before, he’d caught her in a vulnerable state of grieving and she’d assumed that accounted for giving in to his touch so easily. Yet now, the brush of that calloused palm up her bare thigh was enough to stir her arousal to the same feverish pitch, negating that excuse.
“I suggest you decide quickly.” He inched further up her leg and rested his hand at the crease where thigh met the under curve of her buttock, one finger swiping the sensitive skin just under her panties. “You’re not afraid, right?”
Lillian narrowed her eyes at the provocation. Growing up, it had always been she who loved issuing challenges, especially to her more timid sister. There was a heady rush, she was learning, to taking on a dare just to prove a point.
“Like I said, Doc, I don’t fear any man. Do your worst.” Flipping her head back down, she wiggled her hips and held her breath.
“You couldn’t handle my worst, pet,” Mitchell drawled as he lifted his hand and smacked her cheek. The slight sting came and went, leaving behind a warm pulse that curbed her tongue. “But let’s see how you take a little more than the taps I gave you before.”
I’ll show him. I can… “Ow!” Lillian reached around and rubbed her butt where he delivered a spank hard enough to burn. Shoving aside her hand, he caressed the pain away, that soft rub going a long way in defusing her annoyance and dampening her sheath. That’s just not right, she bemoaned as her pussy fluttered in a cream-drenched response.
“My memory hasn’t failed me,” he said as he spanked her again. “Your ass has an enticing bounce and your muscle tone,” he squeezed one globe, “is firm but still soft. I like that.”
Lillian gripped his calf as he lowered her panties and bared her buttocks. “Gee, I’m so glad you approve of my butt.” She had intended sarcasm but her voice wobbled with the lust slowly roiling through her veins when he cupped her naked flesh.
“I would say I’m an ass man but there’s nothing about a woman’s body I don’t like.” He took a moment to trail his hand down one leg and back up the other, his light touch raising goosebumps in its wake and her awareness of her vulnerable display by the time he returned to her cheeks. “Take a breath.”
She bristled at the command and then swore as his hard hand connected with her bare skin with enough force to demonstrate the difference between teasing slaps and a real spanking. Heat blossomed across her buttock, the sting once again sliding away as fast as his hand had landed. If the pain lingered longer, went deeper, she was sure she could have fought off responding to it. It went against everything inside her, everything she’d ever believed about herself and her desire to feel her pussy swell and spasm with the next smack. Heat flooded her sheath along with another gush of cream as the next slap echoed along with her gasp. She wiggled her hips again, this time seeking relief from the increasing waves of throbbing, hot pulses moving up and down her vagina in tune with those rippling across her buttocks.
Mitchell gave her one more smack and then casually roamed over the flesh he had just reddened. “You tempt me to push your limits, Lillian, and that’s not a good idea.”
No, it’s not. She hadn’t been prepared to respond so strongly this time, and that was before he shifted his caressing hand down between her legs and trailed a finger over her slit. This wasn’t like her, to lie docilely over a man’s lap and let him do whatever he wanted, but, damn, she craved that finger moving inside her drenched, aching pussy.
Turning her face up again, she shook her hair out of her eyes. “Told you I wasn’t afraid. Now, don’t I get a reward?” She pressed her pelvis down, against the finger he refused to move again.
Shaking his head, a rueful smile tugged at his lips. “You are so not what I expected.” With his eyes pinned on hers, he thrust inside her.
“Oh, God.” Hiding her face again, Lillian lifted into Mitchell’s next deep stroke, the press of his palm and thumb against her sore cheek igniting the warmth and emphasizing the continuing throbbing. Lillian shivered as he circled her clit and then groaned with his sharp tug on that tender nub. Small contractions convulsed her swollen inner muscles and increased with each, tormenting yank of her clit.
“Now, pet. Come on my finger.”
The order grated but there was no ignoring the erotic demand. A mortifying whimper slipped past her tightened lips as she arched into his now pummeling fingers, squeezing them with her inner muscles as a climax burst in a fanfare of bright sparks and sweat-inducing pleasure. Her head whirled and buzzed as her entire body went up in a blaze of ecstasy. By the time she floated down from the incredible high and realized she was lying
over his knees in a quivering, sated heap, her chest heaving as Mitchell calmed her with slow, almost casual strokes inside her, a different kind of mortification took over.
Lillian stiffened, rolled off his lap and got to her feet. Keeping her face averted, she pulled up her panties, grousing, “I told you not to call me pet.” Dropping her skirt, she looked at him as he rose and she noticed he still wore his coat. For some reason, that added to the humiliation of succumbing to him as easily as she imagined the women at his club did.
“I keep forgetting. I’ll try to do better.”
He looked serious, as if he meant it, but she doubted it. “See that you do. I have to get back to work.”
Without arguing, Mitchell strode to the door, tossing over his shoulder, “Monday morning, 9:00 at the clinic.”
After he shut the door behind him, Lillian mimicked in a mock voice, “Monday morning, 9:00 at the clinic. That man is way too domineering for my tastes.” But as she settled on the seat behind her easel and moaned from the pressure on her still sensitive butt, she couldn’t prevent a grin of satisfaction. “Bossy, yes, but boy, can he deliver.”
“How was your getaway week?”
Mitchell glanced at his friend, Kurt Wilcox, as the rancher took the bar stool next to him. Soft cries following the snap of leather against bare skin resonated down from the loft above them where a few couples were enjoying the BDSM equipment of their private club, The Barn. Behind the bar, others were gyrating to the beat of the music on the dance floor. The smile tugging at the corners of Kurt’s mouth hinted he had heard about his guest and distracted him from watching Master Brett grip his wife’s bare ass under her short skirt as they ground their pelvises together while dancing.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Wilcox. It went just fine.”
“Yeah, sounds like it. Nothing like a bruised, stranded young woman to liven up your week off work.” Kurt turned serious with a frown. “She wasn’t hurt too bad?”
