Her Cowboy Doms [Pleasure, Texas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

  “Yes you do. You submitted to my brother and me that night and you will again.” He came at her so fast that it made her jump. Tunneling both his hands through her hair, he took her face between his palms and stared at her, his jaw muscle clenching. “Look at you. You’re not resisting at all.”

  She started to complain, tried to make herself push him away, but when he crushed his mouth to hers, every thought of resisting was gone. Instead, her nipples hardened and the ache between her legs that had started the moment she’d recognized him grew hotter, wilder. His tongue savaged her mouth, rushing blood to pound in her ears. If he’d told her to fall to her knees and beg him to take her, she would’ve done just that.

  Was he right? Was she ready to submit to him? She’d been drinking that first night, but she was stone-cold sober now and wanting him just as much. Every dream she’d had of Paul and Destin had included them dominating her, but she’d thought that was only sex dreams. Yet hadn’t she come to them, hoping they’d take control again? She needed them to take charge, needed to let go of the pain, and hated the burden of guilt that she’d shouldered for far too long.

  Instead of intensifying, his kiss lessened and he pulled back to give her a look filled with hunger. Then he kissed her a second time, lightly brushing his lips against hers. She moaned and clung to him, digging her nails into his denim shirt.

  He took her mouth again, covering hers and drawing her tongue into his mouth. Sucking, he played with hers, and lifted his hand to place over her breast. She pushed her chest out, rubbing the other taut nipple against him.

  When he stepped back, she almost fell forward, this time really stretching out her arms to bring him back. “No. Don’t stop.”

  “Trying to get me to do what you want isn’t a good idea, sugar. But don’t worry. You’ll learn our ways in time.”

  She fought to keep from shouting at him. He had to know the turmoil he’d caused inside her, so why was he taking away her chance of easing the craving he’d started?

  “Take your jeans down to your ankles.”

  “What? Here? Out in the open?”

  As he’d done before, he cocked his head at her. “Listen, sugar. It’s your choice. Neither Paul nor I will ever force you to do anything you don’t want to do. So, if you can’t handle our giving the orders or if you don’t want us to take charge, then say so right now. Just remember that if you tell us to stop, we’ll do it, but you’ll lose the one thing you seek. Freedom to let go. Freedom to give in and feel safe while you do it. Freedom to let us give you more pleasure than you’ve ever known.”

  “I don’t understand.” She was torn. Letting go sounded wonderful, yet frightening.

  “Like I said. Give it time. But until then, make your decision. Do it. And don’t forget how you should speak to me and my brother.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me.” Tears sprang to her eyes, the emotions she’d held in check for so long threatening to take over. Years of training, of fighting to make the male officers treat her as their equal, of finding her way in the world as a strong woman rushed to the surface. What was she doing? She wasn’t a weak woman who’d let a man command her to do whatever he wanted.

  But I want it. I want it so bad I can taste it.

  “Do as I told you. Drop your jeans.”

  Her hand shook as she reached to unbutton her jeans. Why was she doing it? Anyone could come along and see her with her clothes puddled at her feet. And yet, excitement at the possibility of another person seeing her white panties gleaming in the sunlight thrilled her. Her pride, however, wouldn’t let her give in to the urge to obey him.

  “No. I can’t.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t like what I have planned for you?”

  “I don’t know what that is.” She didn’t add the title of respect, determined to keep her resolve. Shouldn’t he respect her, too?

  “Fine. I told you. I’m not going to force you.”

  She was stunned when he pivoted and headed toward his horse. “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t bother to turn around, instead throwing his words over his shoulder. “To the ranch. It’s up to you if you want to come with me.”

  She had to choose. Did she go back to Atlanta and forget her dreams? Was that was even possible? Or did she get in her car and follow him? Did she take a chance that he was right about her?

  Making her decision, she slid behind the wheel and turned the ignition. He swung his leg over his mount, glanced back once, then urged his horse into a trot.

  * * * *

  The ranch wasn’t difficult to find. If she’d turned another right, then a left she would’ve run right into the double wrought iron gate with the huge ornately carved PR at the arched top. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and watched Destin lean off the side of his horse and punch the button on the automated entry system. The gates swung open and he urged his horse through then waved at her to follow him.

  Following a man on a horse meant slow going, but that gave her time to take in her surroundings. The hot Texas summer had taken its toll on the land on both sides of the paved road, turning green grass into brown, but it was still a picturesque sight. Horses and cattle mixed together to graze on the dry grass or out of the feed troughs. A huge water trough had a circle of horses drinking from it.

  She slammed on her brakes when a flash of light brown and a dot of white zipped in front of her, then let out a short curse at the jackrabbit that had raced across the road. Thankful that she hadn’t hit the little creature, she took a breath and put her attention back on the road.

  Destin was like a cowboy in a movie. His body didn’t bounce up and down in the saddle as many inexperienced riders did. His hat, a plain one with air holes running around the brim, was pushed back, bumping at the collar of his denim shirt. His long legs were bent with his cowboy boots securely in the stirrups, but it was his firm butt that entranced her.

  She gripped the steering wheel harder and imagined what his ass would look like once she got his jeans down around his ankles. She hadn’t gotten to see much that night in the cab, but she’d had plenty of time to conjure up her own images of what both men’s butts would look like. And how they would feel. Good glory, how amazing they would feel. Round and firm but with the perfect amount of give for her to hang on to. Or to spank.

  She was so immersed in her thoughts about his rump that she almost didn’t notice when they made a turn and headed toward the house. The home was huge and sparkling white in the sunlight. A veranda-style porch straight out of the old South adorned the front with several rockers and tables resting there for a peaceful night’s relaxation. The windows glinted in the sun and a huge smokestack dominated the roof.

  She stopped the car not far from where Destin had brought his horse to a halt, then handed the reins off to one of several cowboys moving around the house, doing whatever cowboys did. Most of them paused for a moment, their curious gazes locking on her, then at a word from Destin, they went back to doing their own thing.

  Another road led off to the right and down to a grove of trees. A large structure shaped like a barn rested underneath the shade, but she had the impression that it wasn’t a barn. Her suspicion was confirmed when she noticed the words The Club emblazoned in gold over the single wooden door.

  Destin opened her door, then reached out his hand. “Welcome to Pleasure Ranch, sugar.”

  Chapter Four

  Destin had done well to keep his excitement in check. He’d always thought of himself as a lucky man, but when he’d seen Georgia sitting in the truck, he’d almost let out a whoop that would’ve startled the cattle. Paul and he had talked often about returning to Atlanta to find her, to win her over, but life had gotten in the way. Paul had insisted that if she was the right one for them, that they’d find their way back to each other. Either with them returning to Atlanta, or as they had hoped, her coming to find them. It was nothing short of a miracle to him, but Paul had a way of reading people
. To his great relief, he’d read Georgia right.

  As Paul had said he would, they’d checked and found out that she wasn’t married. He’d still had to ask her the question. Just to be sure.

  He led the way into his home, then stood back to enjoy the way her mouth had fallen open in unabashed awe when he’d led her inside. Pleasure Ranch was magnificent by either Atlanta or Texas standards. He and his brother had labored over the house plans when they’d built the place, making sure that each of the rooms had a distinct impact of its own. They’d purchased furnishings, a lot of which were custom-made from imported leather, that were sophisticated, yet still retained a homey feel. The grand fireplace in the oversized living room was his favorite piece of architecture next to the massive bedroom they planned on using once they’d found the right woman.

  “This is amazing.” She turned in a circle, trying to take in all the paintings and sculptures the men had accumulated over the ten years of Pleasure Ranch’s existence.

  She was amazing. His memory of her hadn’t done her justice. Long ebony hair flowed down her back while her startling blue eyes made him think of steamy nights with her legs wrapped around him. Her breasts were firm, just ripe for his hands, while her lean waist made his palms itch to touch her smooth skin.

  His cock hardened thinking of what it would feel like inside her mouth, then inside her pussy. If he had any say in it, he’d have it both ways before the night was over.

  “I can’t believe this is a ranch. It’s too…elegant.”

  He laughed. They got that a lot. “I’m not sure I’d call it elegant. We tried to make it feel comfortable, like a regular home. And yeah, it’s a real working ranch. Just because we wear boots and belt buckles doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the finer things in life. Of course, Maria our housekeeper, still gives us hell when we track in mud. Or worse, cow shit.”

  “I don’t blame her.”

  He smiled, not at what she’d said, but at the freckles trailing over her nose. She was the perfect mix of sultry and sweet. Her face, caught in a moment where she’d lowered the tough façade, was pretty, with lips that had his heart pounding and his cock growing stiffer. He’d desired many women in his life, but he’d never felt so drawn, so turned on before meeting Georgia. The attraction was even stronger than it had been in Atlanta.

  “Georgia.”

  He turned along with her as the double doors leading to Paul’s study opened wide. His brother stepped toward them, his expression one of pure joy. He could understand how he felt.

  Paul was as enthralled with her as he knew he’d be. He should’ve called Paul, warning him before she arrived, but he’d wanted that short time for himself, to bask in the anticipation of her coming to their home.

  Together they’d built the ranch and then the club, and together they would teach her how to be the perfect sub. Paul was more dominating than he was and that was all right with him. He was the more adventurous one and often led the way in enjoying a scene with a sub, but all that was done. Since they’d found Georgia, they hadn’t had an interest in any other women. They’d kept the club running, making sure all the members followed the rules, but they hadn’t joined in any of the play. The club was their outlet just as much as riding the range was. Both fulfilled their need for control and for freedom to do as they pleased. But they’d known neither the ranch nor the club would be complete until they’d found the right submissive.

  And now they had.

  “Paul.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  Destin choked back a laugh. She made it sound like they’d had lunch a week ago.

  Paul came to her, taking her hands, his gaze pinned to her as though he was afraid that if he looked away, she’d disappear. “You came.”

  Her face had lost some of its sweetness, reverting back to her harder expression. Yet his brother’s words made that hardness fade a little.

  “That’s what Destin said when he saw me.” She tugged her hands from Paul’s. “You act like you were waiting for me.”

  “We were.”

  Slow down, bro. Don’t throw too much at her.

  Never mind that he’d done the same thing.

  “O–kay.” She moved away from Paul, giving his brother a moment to toss him a look.

  “I found her lost, sitting in her truck on the side of the road, trying to find the ranch. Myrtle gave her directions.”

  Paul relaxed a little, although Destin would’ve bet it was forced. “Shit. It’s a wonder you didn’t wind up in Oklahoma.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Destin said that, too.”

  “We tend to think alike.” Paul was next to her again, pulling her into his arms. Although she flattened her palms against his chest, she didn’t push back.

  “Let me show you around the place.” Paul frowned as she stepped back. “What’s wrong?”

  “This isn’t a visit. Not really.”

  “I know. You came to find us. That says it all.” Paul crossed his arms. His brother crossed his arms whenever he was faced with a problem and searching for a solution.

  “Then why did you come?” Destin liked putting her on the spot and seeing her squirm. Not in a bad way. Instead, it made her seem more vulnerable.

  She swallowed, unprepared for the question. “I needed time away from my job and I had to go somewhere.” She shrugged, but the gesture was anything but nonchalant. “I figured here was as good as anywhere.”

  “I see.” Paul zeroed in on her. “Then it is a vacation. But we’re not a dude ranch, Georgia. We’re a working ranch and club. You’re welcome to stay, but you’ll have to contribute.”

  “Contribute?” Her attention jumped from Paul to him and back. “Are you asking me to pay you?”

  “Not with money, but with time and work.”

  Destin smiled, knowing his brother was slipping into Dom mode.

  “Doing what?”

  If she hadn’t wanted them, she would’ve bolted then. Destin’s mouth filled with saliva as he took her in, imagining how she’d look naked and lying on her stomach with a butt plug in her anus.

  “Let’s not play any more games, baby. At least not these kinds of games. You came for us and we’re damn glad of it. Since I don’t think you know much about ranching, you can work in in the club for your keep.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Look, I don’t know where you’re getting this, but I don’t do that kind of kinky shit.”

  Crap. She shouldn’t have said that.

  Paul reacted the way Destin knew he would. He got close up, his face an inch from hers, his eyes blazing. Paul hated whenever anyone referred to their play in a less than respectful way.

  “Listen to me. You want us. I can feel your pulse racing. Hell, if I bent down, I bet I could smell your juices. You know what we want from you. I think you want that, too, and have since before we met you. But if it’s not, then say so. Whatever happens between us is up to you. That’s the way it is.”

  Her chest rose and fell, pushing her breasts against his chest. Destin had to give props to Paul. If she’d done the same to him, he wouldn’t have managed to keep his hands off her.

  “I’m not a sub. I told Destin that when he ordered me to pull my jeans down.”

  Paul leaned back, a crooked smile softening his face. “So you’ve already talked about this?”

  “Not really,” answered Destin. “But she’s a natural.”

  Paul chuckled. “I agree with my brother. You’re a natural sub. You just don’t realize it yet.” He shrugged. “Or maybe it’s that you don’t want to admit it.”

  She bristled, her nostrils flaring. “I’m not some weak-willed woman you can boss around.”

  Paul clasped her behind the neck. “Listen up and listen good. You’ve got a lot to learn. What we do, we do because we want to give our woman pleasure. Any woman with us is not weak-willed. It takes a strong woman to be a submissive. Especially our submissive.”

  She didn’t resist, but didn’t answer either. Destin
wondered if it was because she couldn’t understand or simply needed more time to think about it.

  Paul took her by the hand and led her toward the front door. “Come on. I want you to see what it’s really like.”

  Destin followed them outside, keeping up with their hurried pace. “Take it slow, Paul.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s tough.”

  Georgia had to run to keep pace with Paul’s long strides. Her eyes were wide with alarm, but he could see excitement and yearning in her face.

  “Do you know what safe, sane, and consensual means?” Paul didn’t wait for her to answer. “It means we never put you in any danger or harm. It means we keep our wits about us and we know what we’re doing. It means we don’t do anything you don’t want us to do. We don’t force you. Not now. Not ever.”

  Destin took hold of Paul’s arm and made him turn her loose. “Sugar, you have to let yourself go. You know there’s something special between us or you wouldn’t have chosen to find us.”

  “I don’t know if I can.” Her tone was soft, unsure.

  Destin cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “Yes, you can. You’re a brave woman. Be brave now.”

  Was she that brave? Brave enough to let go?

  Paul had his hand on the door. “Do you want to go inside?”

  Destin was relieved when she gave her answer without hesitating.

  “I want to stay and see what it’s like. But…”

  “You can leave anytime you want to. Just say the word, sugar.”

  * * * *

  The Club’s interior was a far cry from that of the house. While the house was bright and airy, the club was darker with its hardwood floors and richly painted walls. A reception desk of glossy mahogany blocked the way inside. Once they swept past that, they stepped into an open great room.

  Georgia waited as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, then held her breath as she took it all in. Cameras were positioned high on the walls, strategically pointed so that no area of the club was out of their scope. An enormous bar ran the length of one wall and was bookended by two hallways. Doors dotted the walls of each hallway with brass numbers mounted on the center of each one.