“Call me Ben,” he corrected, perching on the edge of the floral-covered wingback chair. “I only use Bennett at the club. Or my mom uses my full name when she’s pissed off at me about something. Which you can imagine is all the damn time.”
Ainsley smiled.
“I like it so much better when you’re smiling at me, angel. The name fits you, although that’s not your name.” His gaze tracked over the engraved nameplate. “So, Ainsley Hamilton, you’re a bank president.”
“So it would appear. You surprised?”
“No. I knew you were sharp, and I figured you had a job where you were used to bein’ in charge. You haven’t been in Sundance long.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve lived in this area my whole life. People talk when a hot single lady moves into town. I’ve haven’t been in town in recent weeks… Shame on me for not introducing myself earlier.”
“You’re part of the infamous McKay family.”
“Infamous is an exaggeration.”
“Not from what I’ve heard. Anyway, I haven’t been out and about Sundance. There’s a lot to micromanage when opening a new branch. I spent the first weekend unpacking and last weekend—” Her blush seemed to annoy her. She squared her shoulders. “I don’t need to give you a play-by-play of last weekend’s events.”
“No, you surely don’t, because I’ve been reliving them in my head every damn hour for the last day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Were you gonna show up Friday night? Or stand me up?”
“I hadn’t decided. It was all so…surreal.” She rolled the pen between her palms. “But having you here in my office is surreal too.”
But damn fortunate in his opinion. “You can’t deny something clicked between us last weekend. How about if we talk about it tonight over dinner?”
She gave him a questioning stare. “Dinner? Where?”
“Without adding more fuel to the infamous McKay fire, we’d better stick to my place, because wherever we go in Sundance or Moorcroft, chances are high we’ll run into one of my family members. I’m not sure the new businesswoman in town wants to be associated with a McKay.” When more suspicion flared in her hazel eyes, he realized he’d have to take extra care with her, given how they’d met. “No one knows about my life at the Rawhide Club.”
“You sure?”
“I make sure. I promise. It’s only between us.” He leaned closer. “Have dinner with me tonight, Ainsley. It’ll just be us talkin’. That’s all.”
“None of that tying me up and spanking sex stuff?”
Was there disappointment in that snappy answer? “If that’s the way you want it.” Ben tried hard to reconcile this polished, professional woman with the submissive he’d had beneath his hands only two days ago.
“You can cook?”
“I’m a bachelor. Be pretty sad commentary on my life if I didn’t know my way around a kitchen.”
Ainsley smiled again. “Give me your address and I’ll be there after work.”
“It’s fourteen point eight miles south on Bridger Gap Road. Turn left at the cattle guard. It’s a log house. Can’t miss it.”
Three knocks and Ainsley said, “Come in.”
A tall brunette sashayed into the office. “Public relations from the main Denver branch called. I told them you’d call them back as soon as you finished with your client.”
“Thanks, Jenny.”
Ben bit back a groan. The brunette was none other than Jenny Timsdale. Town beauty queen, hardcore partier and the last-call bar hookup for his cousin Tell. Or his cousin Dalton. Or both, to hear Dalton brag.
She feigned surprise at seeing him. “Ben McKay. Where have you been hiding yourself? I haven’t seen you at the Golden Boot, Ziggy’s or the Twin Pines in forever.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Your cousin Tell hasn’t been too busy to come out and whoop it up with me once in a while.”
He muttered, “I don’t doubt that.”
Ainsley said, “Jenny, is there anything else you needed?”
“No.”
“Would you be so kind as to ask Bonnie to start the new account process? Mr. McKay will be right there, as he’s decided to open an account with us.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Jenny flitted out.
Ben couldn’t help but grin. Ainsley was no pushover. But she’d soon learn he wasn’t either.
“Thanks for the hard sell, Miz Hamilton. I look forward to you meeting my needs.”
“Your banking needs,” she corrected.
“That too,” he murmured. “See you later.”
His week was looking up.
About fifteen minutes after Bennett—Ben—moseyed out of the building after opening a new checking account, Ainsley called Jenny back into her office.
“You buzzed me?” she inquired with fake sweetness.
“Yes. Do you have that number for the PR department? There are four different extensions.”
“Sure. No problem. Be right back.” Jenny’s small, perfectly pear-shaped ass didn’t bounce in the skintight pink leopard print skirt.
Ainsley sighed and swore she’d eat like a bird tonight.
Jenny handed over a slip of paper. “Here you go. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything between you and Ben.”
“No, we were just finishing up. But as long as you asked, what can you tell me about him?”
“Besides he’s as hot as fire? Mama, those blue eyes of his just like…look right into you, know what I mean?”
Yes, she’d been on the receiving end of those soul-pondering looks.
“He’s pretty quiet compared to the rest of his family. But like the rest of them, he’s involved in the McKay ranching operation. He’s not much into the bar scene around here. He probably gets sick of women hanging all over him, but he’s too polite and gentlemanly to say anything, know what I mean?”
No, that didn’t ring true. Ainsley clearly remembered Bennett telling her exactly what he wanted her to do.
“He doesn’t really date, definitely not like his cousins do. Because of that, some nasty people around here whisper he’s gay, but I don’t believe that for a second.”
That man was far, far from gay.
Evidently Jenny realized that Ainsley hadn’t responded to anything she’d said. Her baby blues widened. “You aren’t involved with him or something? Because aren’t you, like, a lot older than him?”
Ainsley let the snarky comment slide. “We were just talking about his cousin’s art. He had a couple of general questions about the bank and I convinced him to open an account.”
“It’d be a big deal if you could get all the McKays to switch their banking business here. I’ll bet you can be very persuasive.”
Not nearly as persuasive as Bennett could be
And that scared the bejeezus out of her.
Chapter Ten
Ben’s charming, rustic house looked nothing like Ainsley had pictured a big, bad Dom’s swinging bachelor pad.
Cradling the bottle of wine, she tiptoed up the flagstone walkway, cursing her high heels, wishing she’d changed clothes after work.
Soon as she neared the door, she heard barking. Snarling barks. And thumps. Like the dogs were throwing themselves at the door to get to her.
Ben’s voice boomed. “Dammit, shut up. What the hell is wrong with you guys?”
The dogs whimpered.
“Hang on a sec while I put the dogs out back.”
She adjusted the shoulder strap on her purse, watching through the screen door as Ben dragged the dogs by their collars.
He trotted back, swinging the door inward. “Sorry about that. Don’t know what got into them. They’re usually so friendly they slobber all over ya.”
She handed him the wine. “They probably smelled my cats.” And my fear.
“Can I take your coat?” He set the wine bottle on a beautifully crafted side table.
Ainsley stopped on the edge of the foyer. “Ah
. Sure.” She passed him her trench. He hung it on a coat tree crafted out of some kind of animal horns.
She swiped her palms on her skirt, wishing she had pockets. Wishing she hadn’t come.
Why was this so awkward?
You’ve had kinky sex with this man. Dinner should be a breeze.
Then Ben was curling his hand over her jaw, gazing into her eyes. “You all right?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m so…nervous.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.”
“Good. Maybe this will help.” Ben kissed her. Sweetly at first. Softly nibbling her lips while his thumb stroked her jawline. He patiently coaxed her to kiss him back. Once she opened her mouth wider, he dove right in, blowing all her circuits with a kiss packed with desire, laced with passion. Her head went muzzy and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
After an eternity of those soul-feeding kisses, he tilted her head back to string hot kisses from her chin to her neck.
Chills danced down her arms and neck and she sighed.
Ben chuckled, smooching her mouth one last time before resting his forehead to hers. “Better?”
“Yes.”
“What else can I do to put you more at ease?”
His concern touched her. “I’d love to kick off my shoes.”
“Feel free. How about a drink?”
“Sure.” Ainsley followed him to a built-in bar. “Wow. This is beautiful.”
“Thanks. Bombay Sapphire and tonic, right?”
Of course he remembered her drink of choice. “No, actually, I’ll take a soda. Whatever you’ve got is fine.”
“Comin’ right up.”
Ainsley checked out the rest of Ben’s house. Definitely masculine with the animal trophy heads lining the wall and the large room focused on the huge TV, pool table and other man toys. Her gaze wandered to the open kitchen outfitted with stainless steel appliances, mahogany cabinetry, a big picture window overlooking an incredible view of the rolling plains. An eat-in countertop separated the kitchen and conversation area, comprised of two leather recliners facing a wood stove with an antique trestle table centered between the chairs. Maple-colored wood flooring stretched from the front door, through the kitchen, living room and bar. The TV/game room had brown and gold-flecked Berber carpet that continued down the hallway. A hallway that likely led to Ben’s bedroom.
Did Ben have hooks and restraining devices in his bedroom? Or did he only indulge in that at the Rawhide Club?
“Here you go.”
She faced him. “You’ve got a beautiful home.”
“Took me six years to get it done. Definitely a learning experience as far as adding to my carpentry know-how, but it ended up being exactly what I wanted.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You built this place? By yourself?”
“Except for the plumbing and electrical and a few odds and ends. It’s a kit house. Kinda like Lincoln logs for grownups. I bought three kits and turned them into one house.”
“That makes it even more impressive.”
“Aw, angel, you’re gonna make me blush.”
Ainsley was pleased that he’d reworked her fake club name into a term of endearment. She watched as he poured himself a Coke. “Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean you can’t.” Way to tell him what to do. “Not that you can’t decide yourself whether or not you want an alcoholic drink.” Stop babbling. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He squeezed her forearm. “You’re probably starved. How about if we eat?”
She looked up right into those stunning blue eyes. She swallowed a girlie sigh. He really was delightful to look at. “Sounds great.”
He instructed her to sit at the counter as he set everything up. “It’s nothin’ fancy. Just chicken and potato casserole. A side salad if you want it.”
After they’d taken a couple of bites, Ben spoke. “Given the way we met, seems strange to swap life stories, but I reckon we oughta get the basics out of the way. So go ahead. Ask me anything.”
That was a loaded question. “You’re part of the McKay family ranching dynasty.”
“Dynasty.” Ben snorted. “I’m just a simple rancher.”
“So your main job is…”
“Cattle. Feeding them, breeding them, moving them, selling them. I work with my older brother Quinn on our section of the ranch. But we all help each other out if need be. Certain times of the year are busier than others. It ain’t a nine to five job, like bankers’ hours.”
She bristled until she realized he was teasing. “Funny, cattleman. Have you ever been married?”
“Nope.” He shot her a sideways glance. “You?”
“I was married for almost five years. Been divorced almost two years.”
“Kids?”
“None.”
“So what happened to bust up your marriage?”
Ben’s forthright manner was refreshing. “The things that made us compatible in the beginning of our relationship started to wear on me. My ex was set in his ways and didn’t understand why I wanted things between us to change. Luckily, I got out of the marriage before I became bitter, but I didn’t get out unscathed.”
His gaze hooked hers. “To be blunt, you wanted to experiment, sexually, and he wasn’t on board?”
“He was appalled. At one point he told me I needed counseling to deal with my unhealthy attitude about sex and my desire for deviant behavior.”
“What a fuckin’ idiot. I don’t need to tell you that you’re better off without him.”
“I get that he wasn’t a sexual man. For a few years I thought I was asexual, just like him, but I realized I wasn’t. The fear that I’d find myself sixty years old and regret choosing a man with a pension plan instead of finding real passion gave me the courage to end the marriage.” She pushed her food around on her plate. “His last shot at me? I was a sex addict, control freak, ball-buster. Which led me to believe I was a Domme. So now I don’t know what the hell I am.”
Then Ben’s hands were on her face. “What you are is a beautiful, sexy woman. Smart enough to get out of a situation that didn’t fit you. The real you.”
Her eyes searched his. “You really believe I’m submissive.”
“Yes. It’s not control you want, Ainsley. It’s freedom from control. Freedom not to have to micromanage every aspect of your life. Freedom to trust that your sexual well-being will be tended to by a man you trust. Freedom to feel instead of think.”
“You are the man who can get me to do that?”
Ben leveled that panty-dampening smile at her. “Oh yeah.” His hands fell from her face. “We’ll finish this conversation after we eat.”
The rest of the meal was quiet, except for the dogs barking. After he cleared the plates, he led her to the oversized corduroy couches. Ben plopped down beside her, and picked up her hand. “Tell me about your job.”
“That’s guaranteed to put you to sleep.”
He chuckled.
“I switched banking corporations during our separation since my ex and I had worked for the same company. Basically I started over.”
“So you go around opening new banks?”
“No. This was sort of a fluke. I turned around a branch office in Denver. When this job unexpectedly opened up, they offered it to me. I’m probably in over my head. And since this is a small bank in a small community, they expect me to have a community presence.”
He groaned. “A man could go broke supporting all the community causes.”
“Two words a banker doesn’t like to hear together: go broke.”
Ben turned his head, brushing his lips in front of her ear. “Does the stern bank president ever wear her hair up?”
Okay. That was an abrupt subject change. “Sometimes.”
“Would you jerk away if I put my mouth on that sexy sweep of skin between your hairline and your shoulder?” Ben blew a stream of air across her ear. “Would I have to pull your hair to take
what I wanted?”
More shivers spread across her body. “I thought you said we’d just talk tonight?”
“We are talkin’.”
“So why does this feel like a seduction?”
“Because I am trying to get you to feel instead of think.”
Ainsley fought the urge to push him away as his mouth wandered over her skin. She’d never let a man know her weak spots, let alone hone in on them.
“I sense the fight in you, angel. Let. It. Go.”
Hot kisses seared her neck and she whimpered.
“Drop your head back on the couch.”
Ben’s voice had become Bennett’s. Demanding in that deceptively soft way that only increased its power.
She inhaled a deep breath and…obeyed.
Bennett nestled his mouth into the curve of her neck. Kissing her with tiny pecks. Flicking his tongue over the pulsing vein. Whipping her into such a frenzy that she didn’t notice his fingers inching up her thigh until his fingertips breached midpoint beneath her skirt.
When she tensed, he warned, “Don’t. Spread your legs.”
As soon as she complied, Bennett stroked her slit, while his mouth kept up the relentless assault on her neck.
Ainsley shifted her hips, wanting more contact.
“Be still,” he warned sharply, nipping her skin in admonishment.
Hard to be still when her whole body vibrated. When she already dangled so close to the edge. Which was ridiculous because he’d been touching her for like two minutes, tops. Over her panties.
“Stop thinking.”
Her breathing became choppier yet when Bennett’s free hand cupped her breast. The sensations of his mouth and finger stroking her, almost in tandem, were too good, too much, too intense, too intimate. She needed to wiggle free and find her wits.
“Be. Still.”
“I can’t. I’m too—”
Bennett sucked on that magic spot the same time he pinched her nipple hard. His thumb pressed against her clit and she detonated. Every pulse point in her body throbbed in time to the blood pulsing in her clit.
Ainsley lost herself then. Her mind became blessedly blank. When she raised her head, he withdrew his hand from under her skirt. He straightened her bra and blouse.
Cowboy Casanova: Rough Riders, Book 12 Page 10
