Western Dreams (Rescue Me Saga Extras #1)

by Kallypso Masters

  “Oh, Sir, you don’t know the half of how hot I am right now.”

  He took his free hand and rubbed between her legs, and she sucked in her breath when he touched her, trying not to lose it. “Judging by your response just now, I have a pretty good idea.”

  “Well done, Ryder,” Gunnar said. “I can already tell you’re going to be a natural with the whip—and make this little sub quite happy.” He tugged playfully at her ponytail. “You can release your arms now. Shake them out.”

  Without waiting for her to do so, Gunnar walked over to a table where a grocery-store bouquet of daisies had been placed on the table. He tore away the cellophane and broke off three blossoms on three- or four-inch stems before approaching her again.

  “Stretch out your arms from your sides and parallel to the floor.” She did so, and he placed a flower in each hand, with her fingertips holding the stems and the blooms protruding outward. He didn’t step away. Instead, he held out the third one in front of her face. “Open your mouth and take the end of the stem between your teeth.”

  Her brow wrinkling in confusion, she did as he told her. “Good girl. I’ve taken away your ability to speak your safeword, but if you need to stop at any point, just drop one of the flowers and give me a thumbs down sign.”

  Megan nodded her understanding.

  Taking his mark in about the same place as he’d thrown the whip before, Gunnar sent the whip hurling toward her, cracking the popper to her left. She jumped, but not nearly as much as she had the first time. Then, an instant later, he did so on her right. She held tightly onto the three daisies, although she nearly bit through the one between her teeth. Adjusting it with her lips and teeth again, she tried to prepare for whatever he intended to do next, but the man was unpredictable.

  “Good job, Megan. You’re already showing better control of your body’s natural responses than you did earlier this evening.” At least now she was halfway expecting the sound, although he still seemed to try to catch her off guard. Yet his praise empowered her. She glanced across the space at Ryder, who once again stood out of range of the whip. His nod and smile of approval melted her insides.

  “Before we continue, I want you to take a few deep, cleansing breaths—in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

  She closed her eyes and filled her lungs slowly, then released the air at an equal pace watching the flower petals flutter as she exhaled. After the third complete round, most of the tension had left her body. Megan nodded her readiness, deciding to let her eyes remain closed.

  “Open your eyes open and focus on me,” Gunnar commanded, and she obeyed. “I want you to become accustomed to seeing the whip hurling toward you so that, over time, your natural reflex to flinch or jerk will go away. Only then will you be a safe target for your Dom to play with.” She hadn’t thought about how her unpredictable movements would make this unsafe for them both.

  “Now, I want to show you there’s little to worry about in the hands of someone trained to throw a whip. Of course, I should warn you there have been instances when a whip has become inexplicably tangled.”

  Her heart pounded. She thought he was an expert.

  Ryder asked, “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say the popper struck the target in a less than optimal way. Feels like a bee sting, really. I’ve had it happen to me more than you will because I train a lot of people and am often their practice target. But you need to know it can happen, even with a whip master who has twenty or more years of experience. There are risks inherent in this type of play and many others. With practice, though, you’ll minimize them.” He turned to Megan. “The pain lingers only briefly—and the mark may last an hour or two—but even so, there won’t be any welts or cuts. Not the way I throw a whip, anyway. Or the way I’ll be teaching your Dom to do so. I am aware that you aren’t interested in being marked long-term.” Did she detect a hint of disappointment in his voice?

  “By the time I allow Ryder to do whip play with you, he’ll be well versed in all of the safety precautions and an expert with great precision.” He turned toward Ryder. “Otherwise, I won’t give you the go-ahead to use the whip on her. Understood?”

  Ryder nodded. She had no doubt her husband and Dom would take this as seriously as he did every other safety aspect he used when they played.

  Now she hoped to keep from flinching when Gunnar hurled the whip her way again.

  * * *

  Ryder’s pride in Megan abounded. Almost unflinching in just a matter of minutes. He wished he’d started his training weeks ago and would be the one wielding the whip tonight, but he also wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing before going anywhere near her with one, except for the incredibly sexy introduction to the whip he’d given her moments ago. His lady loved leather, especially when it came in the form of a braided bullwhip.

  Gunnar turned to him and gave him some instructions on what to watch as he prepared. Forcing himself to pay close attention to the man’s hand, wrist, and whip, Ryder watched him spring into action.

  Crack!

  He moved so quickly, Ryder was left wondering what he’d done. He glanced back at Megan, one flower in her mouth, another in her right hand, but in her left, only a stem remained. Ryder’s attention went to the floor where the head of the daisy lay snipped off but otherwise undamaged.

  “Incredible.” Would he learn to do that without hurting Megan or completely missing the target? Damn, he intended to if he had to practice in the round pen every night and spare moment. The look of awe on Megan’s face would be worth every minute.

  “Let me slow it down for you this time,” Gunnar said. Addressing Megan, he said, “Just hold that pose. We’ll be with you again in no time.”

  Placing the handle in Ryder’s hand, Gunnar showed him by guiding him through the paces how to get the whip to curl and roll toward the target—thin air, in his case—and let him practice several times until he, too, could throw it smoothly.

  “When you go home, I want you to repeat that about a hundred times—every night—until I see you again for our next session. If you want to try for precision by consistently hitting inanimate objects, line up some empty cans on a fence or wall for starters.”

  “Will do.” Man, he couldn’t wait to start.

  The men turned their attention to Megan who stood exactly where she’d been told to, posing the same as before. “Megan, you’re doing great. Ready for me to relieve you of your remaining flowers?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Ryder tried to focus more intently on the whip this time, but it still happened so quickly that he heard the crack of the popper and the tip of the flower had dropped from her hand quicker than a flash.

  Megan giggled, but maintained her stance. Nerves of steel.

  “Awesome job, baby!” Ryder said.

  She grinned, but her teeth didn’t let loose of the final daisy. Ryder seemed more worried than Megan did about what would happen next. Clearly, she trusted Gunnar to do no harm.

  “Megan, do a quarter turn in either direction you’re comfortable with.” Facing toward her left, in the direction of the other stations in the dungeon, her eyes widened in surprise. Ryder glanced in the same direction to find that Marc and Angelina had stopped whatever they’d been doing to watch. They both remained silent, respectful, and serious. Ryder wondered if Gunnar might have another Dom in Marc wanting to train with the whip soon.

  “Now, Megan, place your hands in a box hold behind your back,” Gunnar began, “bend forward, and keep your head tilted back so that the daisy is sticking straight out toward Angelina.”

  Ryder wasn’t sure he’d be as calm in such a predicament, but she did as instructed. Blood rushed in his ears as he waited, wanting this to be over. If anything happened—

  Crack!

  Ryder jumped, but Megan didn’t seem to move an inch. How she’d learned that kind of discipline was beyond him. Pride welled up in him again.

  “You can stand up strai
ght now,” Gunnar said. “It’s over.”

  Ryder had a lot to learn, but was determined to start tonight. Marc said Angelina was intrigued now, too, so while the two women hung out a while, Gunnar gave Ryder and Marc a joint lesson.

  In the hands of an expert, a whip would be formidable weapon against almost anything but a sidearm. In this day and age, it also would have the element of surprise. He looked forward to learning more. There would be a time in the not-to-distant future when the ranch would have strangers roaming around and, while they’d do their best at screening and could ban firearms, there would be some troubled people making use of their services. He’d need to protect Megan, Cassie, and others working with the program.

  The daunting responsibility weighed heavily on him as the primary caretaker of the ranch and its occupants.

  God, don’t let me fuck this up.

  Ryder & Megan:

  Horsing Around in the Barn

  Ryder entered the barn, leading O’Keeffe to her stall with Chance hot on his tail. The dog had been at his side all day and now headed straight for the water and food bowls at the end of the barn. He patted O’Keeffe’s neck. After working with this horse, the most severely wounded of Luke’s rescues, these past few months, Ryder was pleased that O’Keeffe had calmed down enough to finally let him take her into the barn at night. Not a moment too soon, as winter prepared to set in for good now in late October. The sense of accomplishment Ryder felt in being a part of the animal’s transformation made him feel like a king.

  Living on this ranch had transformed Ryder, too. Well, he had to credit more than the ranch for that. Having Megan as his bride had made the biggest difference of all in his life. While he still tried to avoid crowds, recently he’d ventured into Breckenridge with her a few times to have dinner at Angelina’s place. Talk about crowds, but the hostess was always accommodating and gave them a quiet table in a corner near the rear exit where he could keep his back to the wall and watch both doors. Okay, progress came slowly, but he’d probably never lose that instinct to be prepared and on guard when among lots of people. It was even more acute now because he needed to protect Megan.

  Of course, they’d been to Gunnar’s dungeon in Breckenridge many times, too, but his house was far outside the busy tourist town. Most recently, though, he’d surprised himself and braved taking Megan into nearby Fairchance for a local celebration that brought out hundreds of local people. They’d only stayed an hour or so but had met some of their neighbors. Progress.

  If Megan hadn’t been beside him, it was doubtful he’d have gone to any of those places. He’d still be hiding away on a pueblo outside Albuquerque.

  But Megan and this ranch had become his sanctuary. Both helped to keep him grounded. He’d be content to stay in this place for the rest of their days, as long as he had her beside him.

  Megan seemed to thrive here, too. She’d joined the local arts council and would be teaching a photography class this winter. Good training for when the ranch had its first group of guests. She’d also opened a studio in Breckenridge near Angelina’s restaurant and had already booked a number of weddings and other events well into next summer.

  He’d worried at first about how this city girl from Chicago would acclimate to the slow-paced, sparsely populated area of Colorado they’d chosen to settle down in, but Megan said she welcomed the chance to focus on her art without a lot of distractions. She still spent more time outside the studio than in, setting up shoots in some places she’d scouted out for the more adventurous couples wanting engagement photos, or the parents of new babies looking for unusual shots. Her eye was impeccable.

  After O’Keeffe was settled in, he rotated his shoulders to work out some kinks. They ached from this week’s fence-mending project with Luke. It was taking him longer than expected to get used to the amount of physical labor running a ranch required.

  While physically demanding, the hard work helped keep his mind away from dwelling on the past too much, which wasn’t easy with the eighth anniversary of the attack his team had taken on that rooftop in Fallujah only weeks away now. Autumn had been the most difficult time of the year for him ever since.

  The last few nights, he’d come in late and fallen into bed exhausted soon after supper, sorely neglecting his bride of four months. Thank goodness he and Luke had finished work early today after spending all morning and most of the afternoon mending the last of the fences. Ryder was ready to kick back awhile, and he got the impression from Luke that he wouldn’t be coming off the mountain again for a couple of days.

  Straddling O’Keeffe’s flanks out on the range, Ryder’s thoughts had drifted to baser ones a number of times. As they did again now.

  Where’s that woman of mine?

  A few stalls away, he heard Megan start singing to one of the horses. Cassatt, most likely. Walking down the aisle to that door, he peeked inside, watching her currycombing her favorite mare. Megan enjoyed the challenge of this high-strung horse who displayed more spirit than Fontana.

  She glanced over the black-and-white paint’s back and smiled. “I should be finished here in a few minutes. Dinner’s in the crockpot.” She shrugged as if that was something to apologize for. “I didn’t want to spend all afternoon cooped up in the house on such a gorgeous day.”

  “So you decided to be cooped up in the barn instead?”

  “Oh, no! Cassatt and I took a nice, long ride this morning, and I have the most amazing photos of the lingering amber aspen leaves on the mountain. Then I took some shots of her and the ranch for the web site we’ll be working on this winter. We’ve had all kinds of fun today, haven’t we, Cassatt?” She patted the horse’s neck. “Much more interesting than being in the house or barn—or mending fences. But you’re back early, aren’t you?”

  “All done. Luke’s already headed home to Cassie. Probably won’t see him again for days.”

  “Finally! I have you all to myself.” She giggled as she kissed him sweetly and pulled away.

  Her ginger hair had been pulled into a high ponytail. Sounded like Megan might want to horse around, too, knowing they’d be alone a while. He’d been wanting to demonstrate his whip skills on her ever since Gunnar had given him the go-ahead several days ago but had been too bone tired to trust himself with a whip.

  Tonight, they’d play for the first time with the four-foot single tail he’d laid on the worktable in the tack room before supper. Ryder kept some of their other favorite toys hidden in a duffel bag tucked behind the worktable in that room, too. While he knew Luke made BDSM furniture and equipment, Ryder still couldn’t get a read as to whether the private man lived the lifestyle, too, or merely enjoyed using his carpentry skills in this way. Deciding it best to be cautious, concealing his and Megan’s secret lifestyle seemed prudent—and many of the implements they used fit in naturally inside a horse barn’s tack room.

  The sound of a popper cracking would frighten the horses, but Gunnar had taught him that was just for show anyway. His mentor had let his break the sound barrier at the dungeon that time—making Megan jump—but he’d stressed the importance of precision and controlling the amount of force used over showboating, as he called it.

  Ryder had perfected his throw until he didn’t make a sound. Only a swish of air as the whip raced toward his intended target. Tonight, for the first time, that would be Megan’s upper back and ass.

  His cock grew stiff at the thought of seeing his marks on her.

  First, he needed a shower and supper. They walked hand in hand into the house, and he went to the bathroom while Megan finished preparing dinner. He sat down at the table ten minutes later with Megan serving him a hearty bowl of beef stew.

  “Tastes great, baby.” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. “Thanks for making it.”

  “Well, you can thank Cassie for the amaranth bread. Luke dropped it off at the house this morning before you two headed out.”

  “Will do—next time I see her
.” Possibly more reclusive than Ryder, Luke’s wife preferred being up on her mountain, but she occasionally popped in to see Megan and visit with Chance, the mama dog she and Luke had rescued following the fire up on her mountain. Chance was a working dog and preferred to be here on the ranch. Occasionally, Cassie brought Suyana, one of Chee’s littermates, along to spend time with her mama and Chee.

  They finished supper quickly. Anxious to get out to the barn to play, he helped with the dishes. “Red, after we get the horses settled for the night, I want you to go to the tack room, strip everything off, and wait for me—on your knees wearing only your ankle cuffs and collar.”

  Her hand drifted away from the sink, the sponge dripping water onto her boots. “Yes, Sir.” Her husky voice and dilating pupils conveyed her excitement. She grinned, leaning toward him to place a slow kiss on his lips. When the kiss ended, she said, “I’ve missed playing with you, Sir.”

  * * *

  Kneeling in wait on a folded horse blanket, Megan heard Ryder’s boots approaching. She’d put Chance in the house with Chee so as not to upset the protective animal’s mothering instincts. They’d quickly discovered that the dog wanted to come to Megan’s defense whenever Ryder raised an implement to her, interrupting some fun scenes. So it was best not to let Chance be around when they played.

  Megan’s clit throbbed in anticipation. To ground herself, she stared ahead at the eyebolts he’d inserted into the pine plank wall, the ones he usually used to restrain her when they played here.

  She smiled. Her pleasure, too.

  Finally, his long days in the saddle were over—for a while, at least. Apparently, Luke had hurried home to Cassie, too. Newlywed couples didn’t go this long without sex. Both couples had some catching up to do.

  Additional eyebolts had been placed in inconspicuous spots on the floor and walls for the rope and bungee restraints that almost always entered into their play. They grew more adventurous with each scene. She’d noticed the coiled braided leather bullwhip on the worktable the moment she came in here. Did he intend to use it on her, or was he only teasing her with it?