Collared By The Cowboy (Bad Boys)

by Susan Arden

  She’d been sipping her coffee and nearly choked. “You’re serious about that? Tonight?”

  He rubbed his knuckle across the folds of her pussy, swiping the bent part of his finger over her clit. “You want me to fuck you or not?”

  Hot sparks raced over her nerve endings and she clamped her knees against his forearm. He swiped against her slickness, waiting for her to reply. She tried to swallow, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth as a bubble of excitement clogged her throat. She struggled to subdue her arousal, but with Brandon in front of her with his hands between her legs, each swipe of his finger threatened to take her into a realm beyond rational thinking. She swiveled her hips, whimpering and he spread her lips wider and pinched her clit. Her heartbeat pounded faster and she coiled her arms tighter around his shoulders.

  “Yes.” She breathed out, as fire skittered delicious flames over her skin. “Emphatically, yes!”

  He slipped his finger inside her, pulling her closer to him over the counter, and pumped hard. Forcefully. “First things first. I’m going to spank you, then fuck you. If you’re good, you get to pick the position. If you’re not, then it’s my choice.”

  Chapter Eleven

  at first, BRANDON had intended to take Mia to his room downstairs. Hard to do with the attention of everyone in the club potentially focused on them. He wasn’t about to put her in that position. Not yet. They needed to discuss what she’d do when she returned to the S & L next time without him. And then there was the issue of her hunger. Easier to focus on getting her fed. He never imagined just sitting and eating could feel that good, or have him this off-his-rocker aroused.

  “You up here?” Penrose yelled.

  Brandon gritted his teeth as he and Mia gazed into each other’s eyes, his finger deep inside her warm pussy. Did she know how perfect she felt or looked? He stopped finger fucking her and pressed a kiss to her parted lips, whispering, “Hold that thought.”

  “Yeah.” He called out, covering Mia’s knees with her dress. “In here.”

  He had been so close to hauling her off that counter and into his bedroom that now his pulse pounded in his head.

  Mia’s eyes were wide and she looked much too vulnerable. His chest constricted without warning. Drawn to reconnect with her, he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth again, brushing her hair from her face as he waited for Pen to appear. One day soon, he fully intended on addressing his partner’s idiot timing.

  “Need you—” The man burst into the doorway then stepped back. He’d never seen Pen stumble over himself. “Holy shit…I mean, smokes. Excuse me.”

  Pen stared at him, then glanced at Mia, nodding an acknowledgement, then swung his attention back to him.

  “What’s up?” Brandon retorted dryly. “You needed something?”

  His partner still seemed lost in thought. “There’s a…matter downstairs. Needs your attention. Marty didn’t know where you were and he came to my room.”

  For Pen to have stopped taking care of his sub’s needs it had to be pretty serious, and then one awful possibility permeated Brandon’s thoughts. “Does this have anything to do with a membership we spoke about?”

  “Bingo.” Pen’s face blanked.

  Shit! A poker face on Penrose meant trouble. Twin trouble, he’d bet. “I’ll be right there. Go back to what you were doing.”

  “You sure?” Pen asked.

  “I can handle this issue. Now that we’ve spoken and are on the same page.”

  “Well then, have at it. Mia.” Pen smiled at her, then turned and to exit the kitchen. Over his shoulder he finished with, “Catch you both on the flipside.”

  Brandon rubbed his hands over her dress, squeezing the sides of her thighs. Her knees were together, and she had to feel as half-insane as he did. In short order, she’d know the sting of erotic pleasure he could offer her. She was untouched. A virgin so to speak, and his sensual appetite spiked.

  He craved nothing more than introducing Mia to the art of spanking then fucking her until the sky dissolved into the early morning. Tonight he planned on taking his sweet time with her. Didn’t matter if he had to work on no sleep; he hungered for her, and the sooner he took care of this incessant hankering, the sooner he’d be done with a mind-altering distraction in the form of a hot-bodied woman who wouldn’t quit tormenting his imagination.

  “Baby, this won’t take but a few minutes.” He wound his fingers around her arms and pulled her to him.

  “I’m a big girl.”

  He closed the distance between their bodies and brushed his mouth over Mia’s sweet lips. “I’ll be right back. Can you spend the night? I’m heading out tomorrow morning…I want you to stay with me.”

  “Sure. I have class but not until the afternoon.”

  Her agreement was all he needed to hear. Fucckkk! His dick stood up and saluted. He stepped back before he lost his head and inhaled at the sight of her on his counter.

  “Good. Make yourself at home.” He lifted her down and pressed his hips against hers unable to resist her. “As in, get naked and be in my bed when I get back.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Come back to me soon, cowboy.”

  With her suggestive words ringing in his head, he descended the stairs and made his way to the front. Marty met him right outside his office.

  “What in the name of hell is going on?” Brandon snapped.

  Marty jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the office behind him. “I didn’t know what to do. They were outside.”

  He stared at the man as though he’d gone bonkers. “That was the plan. Want to explain how—or rather, who let them inside?”

  Marty stared back at him, his mouth moving but nothing really meaningful came out except a hoarse, “Aw, shit. They’re a mess.”

  “Not good enough, Marty.” Brandon wasn’t about to wait around another second. He’d have those girls on the other side of the entrance doorway and then he and Marty would have one hell of a come to Jesus conversation.

  He barged into the membership office and demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Selma and Esme turned around, half-stumbling and giggling. Holy shit! They were a mess. He’d never seen them this unruly. Make-up smudged and their clothes dirty, if not ripped in a couple of places.

  “Hey, Bran-don.” One of the girls hiccupped.

  “God damn,” he mumbled, backing out of the office. “Marty!”

  “I tried to tell you…” Marty said.

  He inhaled and tried to understand what the possible options were here. He swung around and came face to face with Mia. Her eyes were wide and she backed up to the hallway wall. “Marty, hold down the fort for second.” He marched over to her. “Where are you going?”

  “Um. I just wanted to get my bag. From the car.”

  He nodded, raking his fingers through his hair. “I have a slight problem that needs my attention.”

  She tilted her head and looked around his shoulder. “Those two girls?”

  “Yeah. They’re in a bad way. I can’t just throw them out, much as I’d like to.” Those twins needed a babysitter and he wasn’t it.

  “They look like they’re strung out.”

  “Drunk as skunks,” he muttered. “They aren’t members. Never have been. Never will be.”

  She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “Those girls don’t look like they’re just inebriated. Do you mind?” she asked, studying the occupants of the office behind him, and was already opening her purse and removing an eyeglass case. “Can you hold my purse?”

  Without waiting for him to respond, Mia thrust her purse into his hands before she untied her mask and gave that to him as well. She slipped on a pair of glasses, giving him a vision of the sexiest office pinup he’d ever seen. His eyes widened. The level of torture she’d been capable of where he was concerned just tripled.

  They stood in the hall, Mia with her glasses on while their bodies remained only inches apart, and he stifled a g
roan. “Fine. Yes. I could use the help.”

  “I won’t make this a bigger issue.” She walked with sure confidence into the office, leaving him in the hallway holding her purse and her mask.

  “Good evening,” she said, nodding to Marty and then to the girls.

  The twins had trouble standing. “Hey,” one of them said.

  “You need a place to lay down. Don’t you?” Mia asked, sounding professional, yet achingly concerned. The sound of her voice tugged at him.

  Jesus. He considered these girls and the problem they represented, going from irritating to bigger in circumference—annoyingly so. Wait, did Mia just say something about laying down? He closed his eyes. Big just got bigger. He shook his head in her direction, and of course she ignored him.

  “Seriously,” one of them whined.

  “I’m Mia,” she said and held out her hand.

  He expected some bullshit, cocky remark from the twins, but they both grabbed for Mia’s hand like it was a lifeline being cast out to them within a churning sea and they were drowning. Hell, maybe they were.

  One of the girls jerked her thumb backwards. “I’m Selma. She’s Esme.”

  “We’re twins,” Esme offered.

  Mia smiled and nodded, guiding them to chairs. “I thought you were sisters.”

  Esme hiccupped. “Sorry.”

  “Cover your mouth,” Marty muttered.

  Mia arched a brow at Marty. “May I speak with them alone?”

  “I don’t think—” Brandon began, but at Mia’s vexed expression he relented and nodded his agreement. “Sure. I’ll be right outside.”

  Marty turned to the twins. “Don’t you offer up any of your sass. Hear me?”

  “Yes, Mr. Keller,” they slurred in unison.

  “Who is she?” Marty whispered when he came out into the hall, glancing momentarily at the purse in Brandon’s hand.

  “A friend,” he replied cautiously, standing ramrod straight.

  “Whoever she is, she got those girls somewhat in line.” Marty snuck a glance inside the office. “Smart thinking, having a woman talk to them. Is she some kind of social worker?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Marty grimaced. “Those girls have hit rock bottom.”

  “I don’t know,” Brandon leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Unfortunately, I have seen worse. But I agree, where these two are headed is no place good.”

  “One of the men working security in the back said they’re the newest act at the Gentleman’s Club.”

  He turned his stunned gaze on Marty. “Not the dive down the street?”

  “The very one. Heard they have been there a few weeks.”

  “I don’t believe it. They’re barely drinking age! Is that even legal?” He knew the answer; he just couldn’t get the idea to take root in his dazed mind. He’d known girls from his hometown to end up in all sorts of jobs and professions, but not one had become a stripper. Until now.

  “Brandon,” Mia’s soft voice stirred him from shock.

  He crossed the hall. “What’s the decision?”

  “Can they stay in one of the rooms here? Until the morning?”

  “Them?” Brandon snorted and she nodded. “Sleep here? C’mon, that’s not possible.”

  “They need to sleep it off. I don’t think they’re going to cause much of a ruckus,” she said.

  He turned his attention to the office. The twins were slumped together with their heads on each other’s shoulder.

  “Only because you asked,” he muttered, already seeing that he was buying into a shitload of problems. “I’ll make the arrangements, if we’ve got a room. Give me your keys. Tell me what you need from your car.”

  “I can get my own things, thank you.” She reached for her purse and mask and he held them an arm’s length away from her outstretched hands.

  He arched a brow, delivering a quelling glance, and leaned closer to Mia, his mouth right next to her ear. “Sugar,” he drawled. “Are you back talking me?”

  She bit down on the middle of her bottom lip for beat, then replied, “No, Sir.”

  God, if she only knew how ramped up she’d gotten him. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think about the issue—strike that—the problem on his doorstep.

  “We’ll get these young ladies situated and then I’ll get your things.” He handed Mia her purse and mask, then stepped over to speak with Marty. “Go make a visual sweep of the bar area and hosts, check on things. If everything else is running smoothly, we’ll need one or two staff to watch these girls. Scout out Trent or Beth and give them a heads up. They’re needed and can keep one eye peeled on these two.”

  “I’m on it.” Marty took off down the hall.

  “Shall I stay with the girls and get them settled?” Mia asked.

  “Good idea. We can divide and conquer.” Brandon removed his cell phone and dialed the check-in number for the private hall. “Let me find out if we’ve got a room.” Things were jumping tonight. If they had a room, it would be a miracle.

  He listened to one of the hall hosts confirm every room was booked and there was a wait list. Shit, not a room available until next weekend. “Thanks,” he muttered and hung up.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Another problem. No rooms. We’re booked.”

  “Not every room is occupied.” She smiled sweetly at him, and traced a finger down his arm.

  In a heartbeat he got her meaning. Muscles all over his body contracted. “Oh, no!”

  “Please, Brandon, they need a place to sleep this off. If they leave here, I can’t promise you’ll see them again for a long time.” Her full, pink lips beckoned him. No way could he deny Mia anything at this point.

  “That’s a bit dramatic,” he countered, but removed his keys as he spoke.

  Her face turned serious. “They’ll end up at some crack house, or worse. They’re a click away from some pimp getting hold of them, and then it’s basically over for them. It’s that serious.”

  The harsh scenario coming from her beautiful mouth was incomprehensible. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “They’ve got a pipe and some crystal meth. They showed me. Offered some to me.”

  “Dammit. God damn it!” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The drugs go. And the paraphernalia, too. For you, I’m agreeing to this.” He lifted his head and met her gaze, shaking his head.

  She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good guy.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m selfish.”

  Marty returned and stopped at the doorway. “Everything is running smoothly. What next?”

  He motioned to Marty. “Call for security to help. I want them moved as unobtrusively as possible.”

  “We can take the front stairs and come down in the back, circle around. The front can hold entrances, and we can have staff delay anyone leaving from the main room with a diversion. Trent can talk a person’s head off.”

  “Arrange it and don’t leave those two for a second. I’m going down to my room. They can sleep on the sofa. Mia, you come with me.” He pressed his fingers to her lower back through the cape.

  “Do you have some spare blankets and pillows?” she asked.

  “In the storage room. Good idea.” He guided her through the hallway. “Take a right up ahead.”

  They made it halfway down the hall without a word while his thoughts spun in different directions. “How come you know so much about women in this condition?” he finally asked.

  Mia side-glanced him. “In my graduate program we’re required to do over five-hundred hours of community service, plus several internships. I already completed two of them including patient diagnosis and delivering therapy. I was over in the women’s shelter off Park Street and at a private rehab center, not far from here. I’m hoping that the treatment center where I have a women’s group will have space available for the girls.”

  “Slow down. Turn right here.” They came to the doorway of the club storage room and he kn
ew he had to broach this subject. “This isn’t the first time those two have had an issue with addiction.”

  “No?” she asked.

  He shrugged, opening the storage room door. “I should have done something sooner. Maybe gone to their father.”

  “Hey, wait a second,” she said, taking hold of his arm and squeezing. “Addiction isn’t something that gets solved overnight. It involves those girls’ lives and those of the people around them…their family and friends have to help in recovery. I wasn’t under the impression that you were friends with them.”

  “Not friends,” he said slowly. “And I have not slept with either of them, so don’t ask.”

  “Where’s this guilt coming from?”

  “My little sister—the one in college. Well, they all went to school together. Those girls have had this fixation on me for a while, and it’s been intolerable lately.”

  “But not always. Say, when it was just a schoolgirl crush.”

  He cursed under his breath. “I didn’t stop them. Hell, I don’t think I really gave them much mind. Who does when you’re in college? They were kids, not part of my circle of friends. But I moved on, grew up. They didn’t.”

  “They’re confused, if that makes a difference. Looking for help in inappropriate ways is sometimes a last resort,” Mia offered.

  “Last year, I was visiting a local watering hole and they showed up, not that I gave them the time of day. They got into trouble. Wrecked their car and damaged several others in the parking lot. Mine included. They ended up in rehab during the summer, rather than jail. I was called as a witness. It was a total clusterfuck with their father trying to convince me it was a one-time thing and that they were changing. He’s a minister, and it was more like his attempt to avoid having his precious Riverdale Methodist Church tarnished.”

  “Riverdale Methodist?” she asked.

  “It’s a big church…over off Loquat.”

  “I’m somewhat acquainted.” Her voice came out in tight clip.