by BJ Wane
Panting, Leslie shook in the restraints, straining toward him, her eyes remaining glued to his pummeling dick. The look on her face undid Kurt, the edgy arousal that changed to a need so strong she winced as if in pain. Her womb clenched and flooded with liquid heat as she clamped around him and screamed in pleasure, the spasming grips of her climax pulling his orgasm from his balls to spew into the latex and orbit him to the same plane of ecstasy she appeared lost in.
“Still think I don’t want you?” Kurt rasped as he dragged his cock slowly out of her still clinging depths, his breathing as heavy as hers, his heart still thundering in his ears.
Leslie’s flushed face turned even redder. “I…” She inhaled, struggling to catch her breath, and when she did, a wicked gleam entered her eyes. “I may need a few more examples, Sir. You know, just to be sure.”
His lips twitched. She didn’t reveal her lighthearted side often enough. “I’ll see what I can do about that.” He squeezed her warm ass, her grimace drawing his smile. “I wouldn’t want you to make the same mistake twice.” Releasing her bonds, she fell against him with a laugh and he held her soft, naked body close, wondering how long she would cling to him before pulling away again.
Over the next two weeks, Leslie’s resolve to guard her feelings was put to the test as Master Kurt left her with no doubts about whether he desired her or not. He instructed her to get dressed up and took her out to dinner at the most expensive restaurant in Billings and then for a drive outside of town to fuck her on the hood of his truck, leaving her hard-pressed to concentrate on her students the next day.
They returned to her apartment after going out for hamburgers and miniature golf and he fucked her against the wall as soon as they got inside, ripping her panties off in his haste. She’d fallen into bed still vibrating from the three orgasms and his tender look as he’d told her good-night.
He attached nipple huggers and inserted dual bullet vibrators before taking her to the newest comedy film. Seated in a private balcony booth, he cut off her laughter more than once with a flick of the switch that started the toys pulsating in soft waves inside her pussy and rectum but refused to let her climax until on the way home. She’d stumbled into her apartment on wobbly legs, still chuckling from the movie.
Damn, that had been the longest two hours of her life, Leslie mused with a fond smile as she tried grading papers. But that hadn’t been as bad as missing him the following day when he called but they didn’t go out or last night, when he’d lifted his face from her needy, saturated pussy, his mouth glistening with her juices, two fingers still moving inside her and asked what made her decide to move to Montana. The personal question had caught her by surprise and stalled her climax, angering her. She winced as she remembered snapping at him, telling him it was none of his business and how he retaliated by slamming out of her apartment. She’d feared that would be the end of their affair and then fretted over the tight constriction around her heart the thought caused. But he called thirty minutes later, just as she’d crawled teary-eyed into bed, and made plans for the next evening as if nothing had happened, and she’d fallen into sleep without further thought or stress.
Leslie leaned back from the desk and stretched with a rueful shake of her head. He thrilled her, confused her and pissed her off, but she was having fun for the first time in four years. Not just getting her submissive needs met, which was what she’d been settling for since joining The Barn, but actively enjoying herself with a man for the first time in a long, long while. The only nagging question that kept intruding and marring her enjoyment was, How long can this last?
Reno, Nevada
“I’m in.”
“It’s about fucking time,” Edwin snapped back, impatience tightening his gut as he gripped the phone. Swiveling his office chair around to look out the window of his downtown high rise, he cursed the time it had taken to find someone with the skills he needed and then make sure that person was willing and trustworthy to hack into government data. In the weeks since he’d buried his sons, the itch to see the woman responsible for their deaths wiped from the face of the earth had intensified. It wasn’t right she got to live after she’d sent his boys to that Godawful place where they didn’t belong.
“Look, I told you this wouldn’t be easy. The best hackers in the world work for the government so I had to move slowly and carefully.”
“It didn’t take you long to jump at the amount I offered,” Edwin snapped back, his impatience a live wire zapping his control. “Now, give me the information and we can be done.” He wrote down the whereabouts of the state’s witness, made arrangements for the final payment to be sent and then contacted the hired mercenary waiting to carry out his next orders. Once his man took care of Leanne Davis, a.k.a. Leslie Collins, Edwin might hire him to do away with the hacker. He’d learned early in his business dealings never to leave loose ends lying around for others to pick up.
Fifteen minutes later, satisfied with the mercenary’s promise to act fast, Edwin poured himself a whiskey and silently toasted the soon-to-be demise of the person who caused him such insurmountable grief.
Two days later
Leslie checked the time, grabbed her purse and started out to her car with a warm rush of anticipation threatening her resolve to stay detached from relationships. Somehow, during the last two weeks of going out with Kurt followed by submitting to whatever demands he commanded of her body, the need to guard against involvement had been overtaken by the escalating desire for more of Master Kurt’s sexual dominance and Kurt, the wealthy cattleman’s attention. It wasn’t until her phone rang as she slid behind the wheel and she saw Agent Summers name on the display that she was reminded how life could change on a dime.
It was too early for Cathy’s monthly check-in, which meant something had happened. Leslie’s throat closed as she gripped the phone, a sense of foreboding overshadowing her excitement for spending the day at Kurt’s ranch.
“Cathy. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry, Leslie. Word has just come down our system has been hacked. We’re not sure when, but best guess from our IT department is at least forty-eight hours. There’s no way to know if your identity has been compromised but we can get you moved within hours.”
Moved? Start over again with yet another name in yet another city where I know no one? Where I’ll be alone again? No, she couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it. She remembered how the girls from the club reached out to her a few weeks ago despite the way she’d held back from getting too friendly and her eyes went damp; the faces of her second graders who were catching on to reading and learning addition and subtraction, of the ones who still needed extra help and the spontaneous hugs from others popped up, and her stomach cramped.
She thought of Kurt and her chest constricted. This was what she got for letting herself hope she could have a life here, for dropping her guard and getting involved, for losing the battle of caring too much.
“What are the odds Glascott is still holding a grudge or that whoever hacked your data bases would pass on the information?” She was grasping at straws, but didn’t care.
“This isn’t a Reno casino game were playing, Leslie. I didn’t want to add to your burden by saying anything sooner, but we’ve kept feelers out on Edwin Glascott and rumor has it he took those boys’ deaths hard and has been in a volatile state of mind ever since. Do you honestly want to take the risk of staying where you’re at, because I can’t force you to leave?” Cathy’s exasperation and empathy rang in Leslie’s ear.
She didn’t want to cause her grief. She also couldn’t bear it if, by staying, she put someone else in the crosshairs of whoever Glascott might send after her. God help her, if it was just herself she had to worry about, she would honestly consider saying to hell with the risk. But the last attempt on her life proved how easy someone else could get caught in the crosshairs and end up hurt, or worse, for no other reason than they were with her.
“I can’t be ready in a few hours. I have to contac
t the school principal. I won’t disappear on them without a word.” And she longed to see Kurt one more time, owed it to him to tell him good-bye in person. The tears swimming in her eyes dripped down her face and she swiped them off with the back of a hand. Lamenting her circumstances wouldn’t help, only delay the inevitable.
“I’ll get everything set up. Call me when you’re ready. We’ll take care of the apartment. We can also take care of contacting your boss, if you’d rather,” Cathy offered in understanding.
“No, but thank you. It’s Sunday, but he won’t mind if I call him. I’ll make up a family emergency and be in touch this evening.”
Leslie hung up before she changed her mind. Those fleeting thoughts of staying and taking her chances were dismissed as soon as the memory of her neighbor jerking and falling against her from a drive by gunshot wound popped up unbidden. Her fingers shook as she started the car and pulled out, her mind racing with what she would say to Kurt. He was astute at reading her expressions and seeing through her lies. The truth might be her best bet, after all, what could he say or argue about? He’d likely escort her off his ranch as soon as she told him everything he’d been pestering her to reveal about herself, and she wouldn’t blame him.
As she left Billings and got onto the highway, following Kurt’s detailed instructions, she railed against being thrust into another situation where doing the right thing required such heartache. With despair clogging her throat and cramping her abdomen and her thoughts centered on what she would tell him, Leslie didn’t notice the car on her tail, or see it swerve around until it sped by her so fast she jumped.
“Moron,” she muttered, glaring at the taillights disappearing over the rise ahead. There was little traffic on this outstretch, with nothing but miles of prairie on either side of the road with an occasional turnoff here and there. The isolation made it easy to let her mind wander until a loud rapport, sounding like a car backfiring, came out of nowhere, disturbing the peaceful quietness of the countryside. Startled, Leslie gripped the steering wheel tighter, her rear tire blowing in the next instant, shaking her even more.
With a panicked cry, she hit the brakes as the car lurched to the side, icy fear twisting around her heart and stealing her breath as another shot pinged against the back side. Leslie barely had time to acknowledge someone was shooting at her before she hit a rut and went airborne for one horrifying second. A terrified scream ripped from her throat as the car came crashing down on the passenger side, tossing her against the door with a jarring, painful impact, her head cracking on the window before leaving her dangling sideways in the seatbelt. Her vision swam, bile rising into her throat. Pain engulfed her whole body, dread cramped her muscles and then agonizing despair pulled her under.
Chapter 9
“I talked to your therapist last night.” Kurt glared at his father and then glanced at the time again. Leslie was late, which put him in no mood for another sparring match with Leland. But, after speaking with Tamara last night at the club and hearing how much more he was capable of doing with a little effort, Kurt felt this couldn’t wait. “Give me one good reason why you can’t put yourself out to go to physical therapy more than once a week.”
Leland’s jaw went taut and he shifted his stormy eyes out the window again. “It’s my life. Quit nagging me about it.”
Frustrated, Kurt strode across the bedroom to stand in front of Leland’s chair and bent down to grip the armrests, getting in his face. This attitude of his was so unlike the strong-willed parent who never let anything hold him back. As he’d often told Kurt, ranching was in his blood and there was nothing he would rather do, regardless of the wealth that afforded him a much easier life.
“Tamara said you should be strong enough by now to move from the parallel bars to a walker, and eventually a cane, but you refuse to try. Damn it, Dad, you’re the one who should be running this place, not me, not yet.”
Leland’s shoulders went rigid. “I’m seventy-two and ready to take it easy. You just want to continue shirking your responsibilities Get out of my face.”
Tires crunched on the gravel drive out front, drawing Kurt’s expectant gaze out the window. Disappointment swamped him as he saw it wasn’t Leslie but one of the hands. He thought they’d been getting along great the past few weeks, and he had no complaints. He enjoyed taking her out as much as he’d relished her willing submission to anything he proposed afterward, and she appeared equally pleased with their budding relationship. If she didn’t show up soon, he would go after her. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet, not without a fight. But, first things first.
“I returned to help you as soon as I could, so I don’t know how you can accuse me of shirking my duties.” It was time to lay what was really standing between them out on the table. “You’re the one who drove me away when you refused to admit Brittany’s death was no one’s fault but her own.” Leland’s face paled, a bleak expression entering his eyes, but he still stared out the window. Kurt sighed, wishing he could get through to him. “I came home because I only want what’s best for you, and I know damn good and well you don’t want to sit around inside this house feeling sorry for yourself. Even after Mom and Brittany’s deaths, you refused to turn over the running of things to either me or Roy. Be very careful you don’t let your stubbornness drive me away again.”
Turning his back on him with that idle threat, Kurt missed the spasm of fright crossing Leland’s face and the sheen of sorrow in his father’s dark eyes. Stomping down the hall, he shoved Leland’s uncharacteristic, annoying behavior to the back burner and engaged fully on one stubborn submissive. Detouring into the kitchen, he put the fried chicken he picked up from Dale’s Diner into the refrigerator. He’d been looking forward to taking Leslie for her first ride today, nestled in front of him on Atlas, snacking on chicken as he showed her his ranch. Since she was over an hour late, they might not have time to ride as far as he’d planned, and if he couldn’t get her out here, there wouldn’t be time to ride at all.
Snatching his hat off the hook by the front door, he stepped outside, the brisk October air cooling his temper as he walked to his truck. Maybe she had a good excuse, he considered, driving down the long lane toward the highway. Or maybe her sense of direction was as piss-poor as Sydney’s. That possibility worried him. He hated to think of Leslie this far out of the city, surrounded by the endless miles of wide-open spaces and worrying about finding her way to his place.
Once on the highway, he drove toward Billings, hoping to see her on the way. The flashing lights of emergency vehicles forcing him to slow down after a few miles filled him with sudden dread. Sweat pooled at the base of his spine as an icy knot of foreboding gripped his abdomen. Idling down to a stop, he saw the under carriage of a car lying on its side out in the field to his right, several cars and trucks pulled over along the side of the road, Grayson’s official sheriff’s cruiser and the county ambulance. It wasn’t until he hopped out that he got a clear view of who was sitting up on the gurney, her face white as a sheet, a bandage on her forehead and eyes glazed with shock and pain.
A fear-induced adrenaline rush propelled Kurt forward, his pulse skyrocketing into his throat with anxious apprehension. He caught sight of Grayson walking around Leslie’s upended vehicle with a deputy, the scowl on his face sending another wave of uneasiness through him. Balling his hands into fists, he paused to suck in a deep, fortifying breath before taking the last few strides to reach Leslie’s side.
“I’m sorry, you’ll need to stay back…”
Kurt whipped his cold-eyed stare on the hapless EMT, shutting him up. “She’s with me,” was all he said. Nodding, the medic stepped back to give him room to stand by Leslie’s side. Leaning over, he brushed his lips around the bandage covering her bruised, swollen forehead. “Jesus, sweetheart, tell me you’re all right.”
Kurt’s dark face swam in front of Leslie’s vision, the deep, concerned rumble of his voice reaching inside her to dispel the last remnants of fog clouding her head
, keeping her insulated from the pain and terror of what just happened. She’d roused to voices calling to her, careful hands freeing her from the seatbelt, more hands catching her as she tumbled down and then gently extricating her from the wrecked car. A cold chill snaked down her spine as she recalled the rapport of gunfire and the loss of control, and shuddered in lingering fear of realizing someone had come after her on purpose.
Glascott, if it was him behind this attack, had wasted no time following the breach of sealed, government files. She doubted he would execute his own dirty work. No, he’d likely hired it out, and that person could very well still be aiming at her from the trees. The field where her car had gone careening off the road might be a vast expanse of prairie grasses, but a mile or two off the highway on the other side lay tree-shrouded woods that made for excellent cover.
She didn’t realize she’d turned her head toward those woods until Kurt placed two fingers under her chin and nudged her to face him again. “Leslie, baby, talk to me. Are you okay?” When she nodded, her throat too dry with fear to talk, he looked at the EMT who had shifted to her other side. “Can you tell me her condition?”
“Concussion, bruised ribs from the seatbelt, left arm is swelling and should be x-rayed but she’s refusing to go to the hospital. She kept mumbling something about it not being safe, but that was likely from being disoriented.”
“Or, it could be because she knows something we don’t,” Grayson stated, joining them with his sharp, assessing gray/green eyes zeroing in on Leslie.
Shit. Hiding her emotions from one narrow-eyed, astute Dom was difficult enough. Now she had two of them regarding her with intense concern.
