by Reece Butler
“What?”
“Marci won’t give Dorothy or Josh’s mom her special lemon bread recipe,” said Tom. “Josh is partial to it.”
Dull anger throbbed under his thick skin. “You call out like you’d pulled a gun on me and then ask about home baking?”
“Just answer the question, son,” said Tom.
For some reason he didn’t feel the usual anger at being called a word no one had ever meant.
“It wasn’t in the breakfast of leftovers Lila packed for our ride this morning.”
“You know how to ride?” asked Josh. It was less of an interrogation then a semi-friendly question.
“I thought I did,” he replied, wincing. “My ass disagrees.”
“It’ll be worse tonight,” said Josh with a grin. “Get Lila to massage it. Serves her right for taking you out too long.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He’d do more than that, he’d demand she work on him from ankles to shoulders, then flip him over and concentrate on his middle. “Check the kitchen while I clean up. You know where everything is more than I do.”
Jet took his time scrubbing his fingernails after they’d left. Something was up. If they’d been here about his past, or his intentions regarding Lila, they wouldn’t have left him alone. His mind was still turning over possibilities when he entered the kitchen.
“This is so good!” said Josh, mumbling around a slice of yellow cake. He held up a slice. “You should try some.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” said Jet. He leaned against the counter to keep his vertical advantage. “You’re not here to warn me off, or you wouldn’t be stuffing your face.”
“I only had one slice,” said Tom.
“Yeah, but it was an inch thick!”
“It was still just one slice.” The older man nodded serenely at Josh.
Jet shook his head at the way things worked in Climax. Anywhere else if the local law came by out of uniform and made like he’d pulled a gun on him, Jet would’ve figured he’d be well on his way to the highway with a few bruises to remind him not to bother his betters. Instead, he helped himself to a cup of coffee and a piece of the cake. It was really, really good, so he took the last couple of slices. Josh gave him a nasty glare.
“Talk,” said Jet. “I’ve got a lot of work to do before the boss gets back.”
“We want you to take Lila to that bar in Dillon tonight,” said Tom. He was all business now. “We want you to make this thing you have with her very public.”
Jet’s mouth was full so he motioned for him to continue. He continued to slowly savor the treat. Home baking was not something he’d often had in his life. The way Lila’s aunt liked to feed people, he might gain twenty pounds while he was here.
“Nobody knows you, or your buddy,” said Tom. “You warned us against Stanley ‘Tank’ Jefferson. Turns out he planned to visit Lila after her parents were gone, as in move in.” Tom’s eyes narrowed. “He wasn’t going to give her a choice of bed partners. We need him to know you’re here so he won’t drop by.”
Jet’s blood went cold. If he’d driven past Tom’s roadhouse…
“We want him to come after you instead of Lila,” said Josh. “We figure you can handle yourself. The family knows the plan, and won’t say anything positive about either of you.”
He wanted Tank to come after him as well. The threats in the bar were to a stranger. Now that he knew, and cared for Lila, this was personal. Tank would not set a finger, or even his eyes, on Jet’s woman.
“Will Lila know about Tank being in town?”
Tom’s coffee mug stopped halfway to his mouth. He looked at Jet over it. “Why do you think we’re here now, when she’s away?”
“I told Lila that Tank wanted the job,” said Jet. “I let her think he wasn’t anywhere near.”
“If Lila finds out Tank’s in town, she’s likely to go storming down to his place and take him on,” said Josh. “He’s meaner than a stomped rattler. We want him locked up, fast.”
“So I tell him what’s going on?”
“You’re not going to say anything to him,” said Tom. The only indication of his mood was a lifting of the lines around his eyes. “Lila never had a boyfriend. Some of the out-of-town girls were pretty nasty to her in high school.”
“The type who are now divorced and hang out in bars in Dillon,” added Josh.
“We want you to show up with Lila on your arm and do something to prove she’s your woman. Tank will find out within hours. It will also make Lila feel good to show you off to the female barflies.”
“It’s a long drive for just a few hours,” said Jet. “Won’t she wonder why?”
“If you make it a shopping trip, then dinner, finishing at the bar, she won’t know it’s a setup,” said Tom. “Lila’s dreamed about rubbing a few noses in it for a long time. She’ll jump at the chance.”
“The place will be packed,” said Josh. “It’s a Saturday night, the weather’s cooperating, and people want to celebrate winter being over. I’m betting half the jails in Montana will be full by morning.”
Jet used the excuse of finishing his cake to give himself time to think. Josh had already finished his last piece, so Jet made a good show of licking his fingers just to hassle the man.
“There’s more to this than Lila,” said Jet when he was done.
Josh, all serious now, leaned forward. “We can’t pin anything on Tank without credible witnesses coming forward. His mom and sister are scared stiff. I’ve checked out some of the towns around here, and he’s suspected in a number of assaults. None of the women will come forward. He makes sure he chooses the ones close to the edge of the law and afraid of the police, or already so beaten down they’re unable to stand up. We think if we can get him on one charge, and get him safely behind bars, others will feel safe, and they’ll talk.”
“Why would Tank go to jail?”
“For assaulting you.”
Chapter 22
Jet was still in pain. Only this time it wasn’t just his ass. He had a bad case of blue balls. Usually he could keep this from happening. Nothing was usual when Lila was around.
The three of them had worked hard all afternoon and then showered together. That was a complete exercise in frustration since there was no time for sex if they wanted to shop before dinner. Lila, of course, was eager to go to Murdoch’s Ranch and Home Supply. Not for clothes or dancing boots, but because they had a special on fence posts.
He ducked out, supposedly just for gas, and bought non-acetone nail polish remover and three colors of polish. Lila was going to learn to paint her own toes. She had a choice of pink, red, and purple, which for some crazy reason was labeled “coconut kiss.”
Lila had asked why he wanted to go to this particular bar. He’d told her he wanted to thank the man for suggesting the Circle C ranch job. She’d thought about it for a moment, and then, grinning, said how much she wanted to show him off.
He’d played the hired hand while shopping but once he pulled out of the ranch store it was a date. He’d been proud to have a laughing, gorgeous woman on his arm at Papa T’s, where they ate burgers and fries. It was now time to play out the real reason for their trip.
Beside him, Lila inhaled a ragged breath and then shuddered. He hid a grimace. They were both horned up. The difference was her breasts could swell all they liked in that T-shirt and she wouldn’t be in pain. The pussy lips he knew were swollen and wet rubbed against the center seam of her jeans every time she shifted on the seat. That wouldn’t hurt near as much as his cock swelling inside a pair of crisp new jeans that had no extra space to begin with.
She looked at the side window, chewing her lip, as he slowly got his blood above his belt. She slanted her eyes at him, looking up from under her lashes. She wasn’t stringing him along by flirting. Lila did it naturally, unconscious of the effect it had on him. By the time he and Houston headed out she’d know what she was capable of.
No matter how much she
pretended she wanted to act like a man, every one of Lila’s seventy-one inches was female. It was his job, along with Houston, to prove to her that being female was a very, very good thing. He gave her That Look. She responded as he expected, with wide eyes and an indrawn breath. She blinked, not speaking.
“Remember, you will follow my orders tonight, or be punished.”
Jet let Lila sputter and mutter under her breath. If she was really upset, she would have told him bluntly where to put it. He slid his fingers between her thighs, rubbing against the center seam of her jeans.
“And you will love every minute, even when you’re screaming.”
“Ha!”
She shifted on the seat, moving her knees apart. It was no accident. He pressed his hand harder against her seam, where her clit should be. She arched against him even though she continued to glare.
The action showed everything about her. Lila wanted to seem tough, as that was the rancher ideal she’d grown up with. He understood that. If you didn’t stand up for yourself, you got knocked over. If it happened enough, you got stomped into the mud. Too many stompings and you no longer stood tall.
Standing tall was important if you were a man, and so was physical strength and the determination to get the job done, no matter what. That was how men were judged in Western towns. It was different with females. They were expected to work hard like a man, yet still look and act like a pretty girl. It was a double burden. Lila did the tough part as well as a man. Her problem was with the pretty girl side of things. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand about dressing like a lady. She just didn’t see the value in it. She also had a potty mouth, which he expected went with the tough gal image.
In the next few weeks Lila would learn a different set of operating principles.
The first step was to learn about her own body. Not what she could do for herself, hurriedly in the dark, but what two men could provide with a leisurely exploration. Lila liked thinking she was in control, though it was an illusion.
She must give up her need for control and follow orders rather than give them. She would first need proof they were worthy of her. With her emphasis on strength, that meant overpowering her physically. She’d certainly come hard after he chased and caught her.
They’d have to do something different to reach her feminine side. They would seduce her during the day with innocent touches, comments, and looks showing how they appreciated her for more than her strong back and knowledge of ranching. Not to demean those abilities, but to show her she was far more than one-dimensional.
He tugged his hand from between her thighs. He lifted it to his nose, watching her reaction. He sniffed her scent. Though his groin hurt like the dickens, he smiled in satisfaction at her reaction. She wanted this.
“Tomorrow we’ll go over our hard and soft limits. Hard limits are things you don’t want to happen. We don’t push you on those.” Her limits would change with experience, and what she now thought was a never-gonna-happen could turn into a request to try before they left. “Soft limits are things you don’t really like, or aren’t sure about. We will push you on those, though you can use your safeword at any time. Other than with the essentials, of course.”
“Essentials?”
She licked her lips, leaving her mouth open just enough for his tongue to enter. Not that she was aware of it. He caught her eyes, wanting to see her reaction.
“Pussy, ass, and mouth. With a blindfold, and maybe something to cover your ears. Perhaps a gag. Spanking, bondage, and sex toys, including a butt plug. Again, and again, and again. In other words, you are going to be thoroughly plundered.”
* * * *
Lila clenched her muscles to stop the flood of arousal, but it didn’t do any good. Jet, the rat, relaxed in his seat, left hand resting on the steering wheel. She was the opposite of calm. Her swollen breasts stretched her T-shirt, nipples protruding. There was a simple way to pay him back while pretending to be innocent. She pressed her shoulder blades against the seat, which thrust her breasts forward. Jet choked.
Good! She was damned if she’d be the only one aching for sex and unable to have it!
His fingers drummed on the steering wheel, a nervous habit she’d noticed. He often did it against his thigh. She waited until he stopped, before shifting and stretching. He gripped the wheel for a second, then his fingers twitched. The truck sped even faster. She hid her smirk by looking out the side window. She hadn’t realized teasing a man could be so much fun.
She met his stare with a sweet smile copied from Aunt Marci. Jet wouldn’t know that her aunt used it as a warning. His eyes dropped to her chest. She also hadn’t realized the abrasion of spun cotton against nipples was so arousing.
“I can’t wait to walk into that honky-tonk with you on my arm,” she said. “I bet there hasn’t been any beefcake as yummy in that bar for years. I’m going to make all the women jealous.”
“I dare you to walk in with your shoulders back, swinging your ass, and make every man in the place wish they’d stood up to Tank and taken the job.”
She squirmed on the seat. Did she want people to know she’d bedded a new hired hand as soon as her parents left town? Why the hell not? They called her a frigid bitch because she wouldn’t give them the time of day. There was nothing she could do to make them think less of her. All those girls who said she’d never find a man because she was so big and ugly would turn green. She didn’t have to know if any of them found out for real. Just knowing their view of her would change was enough to make her day.
“You’re on, big boy.” She laughed, her tension fading. “You can buy me a drink to celebrate while we’re there.”
“Something tells me you’re a whiskey kind of gal.”
“Yep. Jack Daniels, straight up.” She placed her hand just above his knee. He twitched. “Can’t you go any faster?”
Ten minutes later she wiped her hands on her jeans. It was cold, but she wasn’t going to wear her coat. Jet wanted her to show off her boobs and didn’t mind her big ass. She didn’t give a damn what anybody else thought.
No, that wasn’t true. Life would be perfect if Dixie was here. The bitch had been a year ahead of her in school. Lila paid no attention to her until college, when she finally tried to be girly. She didn’t find out for weeks that Dixie had set up her first experience with sex, by a well-known belt-notcher. By the time she discovered she’d been tricked she’d had her second, equally disappointing, ten minutes and had given up on men.
A few weeks after she’d graduated college she’d gotten dressed up and drove herself to Dillon. She’d walked in on Dixie the Queen Bee, surrounded by her princesses. They’d attacked her with sweet smiles and acid barbs. She’d barely made it to her truck before bursting into tears. Danny had hauled her out a few times to dance since, but not to this bar.
Having been warned about what Jet expected, she waited for him to help her out of the truck. He escorted her to the door, his palm warm on her lower back. The place was jumping. She hesitated, remembering the last time.
“I’m in charge,” he said in her ear. “You are going to do what I tell you. Got it?”
She jerked her head in a nod. Jet moved in front of her, taking her hand. He put the other one on the door and pulled it open. A wall of noise hit hard. Jet pushed his way through the crowd, towing her behind him like a cowboy leading a mare. She thought he’d head for the bar where she could get some liquid courage. Instead, he went for the dance floor.
The jukebox was playing while the band took a break. They were getting ready to start again. There weren’t many people dancing, so she and Jet stood out. Just as they got there, the song switched to a slow ballad. He grabbed her belt loops and pulled her forward, then switched his hands to her butt. She put her arms up around his neck, her senses aimed outward, wondering whether anyone was noticing.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” he said.
She looked into those dark eyes that made her heart thump. “I know.”
&
nbsp; They slowly moved to the music. She’d never been held like this. Danny would pull her close, but he was a friend, and would rather be dancing with one of the cowboys. Not everywhere was as accepting as Climax, especially the army. Being seen with Lila helped his cover.
Jet shifted, pulling her even closer. His thigh intruded between hers, rubbing her right where she wanted his lips and cock. She dropped her hands, sinking them into his back pockets.
“Is that Frosty the ice bitch?”
She cringed, the years evaporating at the humiliating comment.
“That’s the guy who warned me off the job. You know him?” asked Jet quietly.
“Theo is Tank’s best buddy. As usual, he’s drunk.”
The jukebox died, but they didn’t pull apart.
“How much is she paying you to fuck her? Or is that part of the job?”
Jet’s warm body went hard. He turned to face Theo, pushing her behind him. She peeked around his shoulder.
“Apologize to the lady,” he said in a quiet growl.
“What lady?”
Theo brayed his usual donkey laugh. He looked around, enjoying the attention. Jet reached out a lazy arm and grabbed him by the collar. He twisted, making Theo choke.
“Nobody trash talks my woman.”
A month ago she would have gone tooth and nail after any man claiming her with such a demeaning comment, as if she was his possession. It wasn’t demeaning when Jet said it. He was a handsome, dominant man, physically commanding and fiercely protective. That such a man chose her, publicly claiming his desire and pride in her, proved to the barflies that she was a woman of value.
Maybe it was wrong to feel a thrill at his possessiveness, but right here, right now, she felt wanted, and cherished, and beautiful.
“Apologize,” repeated Jet when Theo stayed silent.
“Jeez, buddy, back off!” Instead of letting him go, Jet shook him. “Sor-ree!”
Jet checked with her to see if the apology was enough. If she and Theo were in neutral territory, such as the Safeway parking lot, she could’ve easily taken him down. TJ and Danny would have let her take charge, backing her up as if she was one of the guys, trusting she could take care of herself. It was different here. She’d been so badly humiliated that she froze at the thought of entering the place. Or had, until tonight.
