by Jane Jamison
Carnal Cowboys 3
Cowboy Control
Raven Ronnell is a hard-hitting business woman who always closes the deal. Yet when she comes to Garner, Texas to buy up ranch land for the country’s largest shopping mall, she soon finds out she can’t bend every man to her will.
Clint and Hale Yager recognize the fiery Raven as a strong woman. But they know a strong woman often yearns for even stronger men to control her. They plan on teaching her to take their commands and love it.
The Yager men dare her, telling her they can show her real control. They’ll fight her plans for the shopping mall, but what goes on in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. Can they teach her how real freedom feels?
Even after Clint and Hale show her how good being bad can be, she’s dead set on fulfilling her mogul father’s orders. If she doesn’t push the plans for the mall through, going against the men she loves, she’ll lose everything she’s worked for
Genre: BDSM, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 42,063 words
COWBOY CONTROL
Carnal Cowboys 3
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
COWBOY CONTROL
Copyright © 2015 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-138-8
First E-book Publication: April 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing my book. The Carnal Cowboys series is one of my favorites. After all, what could be better than hot cowboys?
Thanks again,
Jane Jamison
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About the Author
COWBOY CONTROL
Carnal Cowboys 3
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
“You’ve got this thing locked up, man,” said Hale.
Clint Yager did his best not to show how pleased he was. He appreciated his brother’s confidence, but no shooting match was ever a lock until it was over. Another shot and another bull’s-eye and he’d be the winner of Garner’s Annual Shoot-off for the third year running. If the match had happened anywhere else, it wouldn’t have been as great an accomplishment. But with men like Mitch and Wy Wilson, not to mention Seth and Jarrod Hill—all expert marksmen in their own right—involved in the competition, earning the top title was tough to do.
Clint lifted his rifle, placed the stock against his shoulder, took aim, and fired. A cheer rose up seconds later. He allowed himself a small smile and lowered his gun.
“Ladies and gents, for the third year in a row, the winner is Clint Yager.”
Hale, who had been eliminated in the previous round, clapped him on the shoulder. “Way to go, man. Let’s head into town to celebrate. You’re buying.”
Their friends gathered around them, giving Clint his due as the winner. Seth was the one who’d come the closest to taking the title away from him, but he wasn’t one to be a sore loser. Between helping each other out with their ranches to riding the rodeo circuit, the men had become close friends. Close enough to consider each other brothers of the heart. They were there for one another in bad times as well as good.
“Sounds like a plan.” The winner buying the drinks at Wasco’s Watering Hole was a tradition he didn’t mind continuing.
“Don’t forget the food, too, buddy.” Mitch shook his hand and congratulated him. “A good drink needs a good meal to go along with it.” His gaze slid to the left and over Clint’s shoulder. “Looks like there’s someone who’s not too happy about your win.”
Clint pivoted around. The men behind him parted, giving him a good view of the woman striding toward him. She held an expensive rifle in the crook of her arm with pearl on the stock, the metal glinting in the sun. It was the type of rifle any man would’ve loved to own but one he never could’ve afforded. Long, shiny raven hair was pulled back to form an obsidian waterfall coursing down her spine. The dark suit she wore was out of place in Garner, but it hugged her curves nicely. Long legs were highlighted by the short skirt and heels dug into the dirt. Expensive-looking silver and gold jewelry adorned her wrists, ears, and neck. The woman had money, all right, but it was the confidence in her walk and the lift of her chin that told him she was someone used to getting her way.
Her glistening green eyes stuck on him. Her ruby lips remained in a straight line without the hint of a smile. She was a woman who was all business and used to winning.
“You’re Clint Yager?”
If a voice could be a
melody, hers was the entire song.
“I am.”
Her gaze slid from one man to the next before smoothing back over to him. “And you think won, right?”
“No thinking about it. I did win.”
She was hot as hell, with firm, high breasts. Maybe she was on the thin side for most men, but he liked them lean. Maybe even a little mean. He’d just met her, and he was already intrigued.
“Too bad for you.”
Murmurs drifted over him as the others speculated on what she’d said.
“How so?” She obviously enjoyed playing cat and mouse, and he didn’t mind playing, too.
“Because I’m a better shot than you.”
Yep, she’s full of surprises.
“You think so? Then you should’ve shown up for the competition. Too bad for you since it’s over now.”
Finally, a slight curve of her lips.
“Is it?”
“It is,” added Hale.
Although his brother was standing up for his win, Clint could still hear the interest in his tone. “This is my brother, Hale.”
“Uh-huh.”
As though meeting Hale had barely registered on her radar. Hale was used to women finding him attractive, so her disinterest had to hit hard. Or was she only pretending she hadn’t noticed him?
She arched an imperious eyebrow. “What if I challenge you to a shoot-off? Just us. One shot and we’d settle it for sure. What do you say? You wouldn’t want to leave any doubt that you deserved to win, would you?”
She’d thrown down with a dare. Trouble was if he backed down, he’d look like he was chickening out, worried she’d take his title. If he took her up on it, he had an awful feeling she just might make good on her challenge.
“Come on, lady. The shoot’s over. We can’t keep it going for everyone who shows up late.” Jarrod Lawler scowled at the girl. Most people would’ve backed up at his fierce look, but she appeared unaffected.
She made a show of glancing around her. “Is there anyone else who wants to give the victor a go for his money? No?” She returned Jarrod’s hard glare. “Looks like I’m the only one who doubts your skill. So what do you say, cowboy? Just one shot is all it’ll take to prove who the better marksman is.” Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “Or are you afraid little ole me will whip your ass?”
He laughed, enjoying her spunk. What else could he do? She was so damn sexy. She couldn’t have stood taller than five feet, four inches tall, but she had the demeanor of an Amazon warrior.
“Clint, don’t pay her any attention. You won, and it’s over. Time to get on with the celebration.” Wy Wilson started to move away, taking a few of the others along with him.
Clint stayed where he was. “One shot? Winner takes the title?”
“That’s right. So are you up for it?”
“Sure. On one condition.”
Her brilliant emerald eyes narrowed. “What’s the condition?”
“After I win—again—you agree to have dinner with me.”
Her laugh was as alluring as the rest of her. “Done.” She stuck out her hand.
He took it, feeling the heat of her palm against her own. “Don’t you want to know where I’ll take you? Garner’s not known for its culinary treasure spots.”
“Hey.”
He didn’t bother looking over his shoulder at Katherine Highland, owner and cook of Kat’s Down Home Kountry Kitchen. She wouldn’t hold his remark against him for long. If she did, he could kiss her delicious eggs-bacon-and-pancake breakfast good-bye.
She gave her head a shake. “Why should I? I won’t lose.”
Chuckles echoed his as she turned around and sashayed over to the firing line.
“And what do you want if you win?” He could think of a lot of things he’d like to give her, including a good time in his bed.
“I have everything I need.”
“No one has everything.” Hale crossed his arms. Normally, the more jovial of the two of them, Hale grew as serious as he ever got.
She studied his brother and, unless he didn’t know women at all—and he did—she liked what she saw. If she’d been pretending not to notice Hale before, she was making up for lost time. Had she looked at him with the same appraising look?
“Maybe, but I’m as close as anyone can get.” She skimmed her hand along her ponytail then pointed toward the line of targets. All but one had lots of bullet holes piercing them. “How about that one last target? One quick shot and I claim my prize.” She paused. “On second thought, other than getting the pleasure of beating you, I guess I should win something. What do you have to offer, cowboy?”
Damn, but he liked her spirit. Other men might find her abrasive, even bitchy, but he and Hale had always preferred strong women. They’d long ago decided the woman they’d want as their own would need a strong personality and an independent nature. She’d give them a run for their money in all things except one. When it came to who the boss was in the bedroom, she’d need to bend to their wills. Teaching her would be both a challenge and a pleasure.
“Clint won a hundred and fifty dollars.” Miles Robertson, the one in charge of the contest every year, pulled the money out of his pocket and waved the bundle in the air.
“That’s it? One-fifty? I guess the real prize is the bragging rights.” She checked her rifle then motioned for Clint to join her at the line. “Are we going to do this? Time is money, and you’re wasting a lot of mine.”
He stalked over to her. “Maybe you’re used to more money than a handful of dollars, but folks around here can use that kind of cash.” He made sure he put enough warning into his tone. “Don’t go making light of it.”
She appeared taken aback, as though no one had ever talked to her in such a harsh tone. Recovering quickly, she nodded then pointed at the target.
“Go ahead, cowboy. The defending champion should always shoot first.”
“Not a chance. Around here, ladies go first.” He stepped back, giving her room. But he didn’t miss the glint in her eyes. She liked calling the shots.
Lifting her rifle to her shoulder, she took only a second to aim before pulling the trigger. Before the retort had stopped ringing in the air, he knew what he’d see on the target.
The crowd was silent at first then erupted in a round of applause. The people were on his side, but they respected good marksmanship when they saw it.
She’d hit the small inch-wide bull’s-eye dead center. Not even a bit off. The best he could do was to match her shot. Otherwise, she’d win.
Miles lifted his hand, telling Clint to hold up as he ran onto the field, took the target off the stand, and replaced it with a fresh one. He hurried out of the way. “Aim when ready, Clint.”
He’d never been nervous. Whether he was rounding up cattle, riding a bull, or in a shooting match, he was always as cool as they came. Yet having her watch him, knowing she’d done so well with her shot, had his neck stiffening.
Hale eased close to him. “Is she something or what?”
“Yeah. Something.”
“You okay? You’ve got this, right?”
He shot his brother a hard look. “Yeah. I’ve got this.” Taking his time, he lifted his rifle to his shoulder and sighted the target.
Take it easy. This is no different than any other shot.
He pulled the trigger.
Just as he’d known with her shot, he knew where his bullet would hit. He gritted his teeth and lowered his gun.
The silence behind him confirmed what he saw. He’d missed the center, the bullet hole gaping centimeters from the nucleus of the bull’s-eye.
He ignored what everyone said. None of the “still a good shot” or “too close to call” supportive comments they made would help. He was close, but close wouldn’t win.
She turned toward him. “Would you like someone to measure the holes? To compare them? I wouldn’t want any doubt left in your mind.”
He wouldn’t be that kind of man. The kind who tried t
o fudge his way to a win. “No need. Yours is dead center. Mine is a smidge off.” Cradling his gun, he stuck out his hand. “Congratulations. You win.”
She took his hand, squeezing it hard like a man would’ve done. “Thanks. You’re a good shot.”
“You’re better.”
She blinked, surprise flickering across her face. “Not every man would admit it, even when faced with the proof. At least, not as gracefully.”
“The facts are the facts.”
“Yeah, they are.” She took the wad of money Miles handed her then shoved it into her suit pocket. “Thanks for the fun, guys.” With a toss of her ponytail, she spun around and started walking through the crowd.
“Wait, miss.” Miles trotted after her. “We need your name. For the records, you know. I always list the winner’s name.”
She didn’t stop but answered over her shoulder. “Raven Ronnell.”
Ronnell. Where have I heard that name before?
Miles called after her. “Miss Ronnell, are you leaving? We have to engrave the winner’s plague. How do I reach you when it’s finished?”
She turned around, doing a full circle as she spoke. “Not to worry. I’ll be around for as long as it takes.” Her long ponytail flew out as she whipped around.
By the time she’d made it to the waiting black sedan, the other men had crowded around Clint again. None of them would razz him about losing to a girl. Lots of women around Garner were good shots. Besides, they’d lost to him. Nonetheless, they’d grown closer in an unconscious show of support.
“She doesn’t know how long it takes to get a plaque engraved around here.” Miles scratched his balding head.
