Cowboy Casanova: Rough Riders, Book 12

by Lorelei James

  He laughed. “Of course you’ve already met the lovely and capable Miz Hamilton. The McKays have a knack for knowing when a beautiful new woman arrives in town and mercilessly working her with those cowboy charms.”

  Slathering on the flattery for Ainsley while taking a small shot at him? Mayor Mark didn’t miss a trick.

  Ben offered Ainsley his hand. “Good to see you again, Miz Hamilton.”

  “You too, Mr. McKay.”

  “Ainsley and I were just discussing ideas for the next community event. We’re hoping to have something big to welcome National West Bank to our community. You have any thoughts?”

  Ainsley cocked her head. “I’d love to hear your input. I’ve heard your family is a big part of this community and has been for over one hundred years.”

  “At the risk of bein’ accused of nepotism, I’d suggest a community celebration to honor my brother Chase’s accomplishments this past year. He might not be headed to the PBR World Finals, but he’s done an outstanding job starting his own advocacy group for mandatory safety helmets in bull riding. The mayor knows any time Chase comes back to town there’s always people interested in hearing him talk. Now that he’s gone and married himself a genuine movie star?” Ben grinned. “This community event could have worldwide attention.”

  “That’s an excellent suggestion, Ben.” Mark said. “Would Chase be interested?”

  “I can ask him. If he is you’ll have to get in touch with his PR people to finalize the details. I only see one problem with this.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The McKays have always been customers at Settler’s First Bank. I reckon they won’t take too kindly to a celebration for Chase McKay bein’ sponsored by a competing bank.”

  Silence.

  Ainsley looked impressed…and a little peeved.

  “I’m sure we could work something out.” Mark glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I’ve got a meeting. Could I drop you off at the bank, Ainsley?”

  “No. I’ll walk back. I’d like to talk a little more in depth with Mr. McKay about his ideas.” She winked at Mark. “Maybe try to sweet talk him into hearing my National West Bank pitch about all the services we offer our new customers.”

  “Excellent idea. Enjoy.” He hustled out the door.

  Ben gestured to the booth. “Could I interest you in a slice of pie or a cup of coffee while I hear how well you can service me?”

  Her stern look vanished into a reluctant smile. “My God. You are unbelievable.”

  “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell you.”

  After receiving their coffee, Ben had his first doubt Ainsley would agree to his proposition. She spent a considerable amount of time stirring sweetener into her cup, avoiding his eyes.

  “Something wrong?” he finally asked.

  “No.” She glanced up. “Just trying to grasp how the man who groaned when I talked about community responsibility last night came up with a brilliant idea for my community event that cuts my part out of it entirely.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not worried. I’m sure you and Settler’s First can come to an agreement that benefits both of you equally.”

  “Will our agreement benefit us both equally?”

  So she didn’t intend to skirt the issue. “Yep.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “You wanna talk about this now?”

  Ainsley looked around the restaurant, almost comically, before she lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Actually, yes, I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ll be able to think clearly when you’re not touching me.”

  Ben smiled unrepentantly. “Words can be just as powerful as a touch.”

  She challenged him with an arch look.

  He also dropped his voice. “Did you imagine yourself havin’ sex with Mayor Mark? I’ll admit I imagined you in bed with him.”

  That threw her off. “Why on earth would you imagine that?”

  “Because I saw how he looked at you, and, angel, Mark was definitely imagining you in his bed.”

  Her response might’ve been, “Oh please,” but she really meant, Go on.

  “This is how I imagined it. He’d probably undress you slowly. Kiss you, run his hands down your chest. Keep all touches gentle and exploratory. When you give him the signal to move on, maybe by releasing a little moan, that’s when he’ll put his mouth on your skin. Starting with your nipples. He’ll spend way more time licking and sucking on them than even you’d like. He’ll kiss straight down your belly and you’ll feel that tingle of anticipation. Wondering if he’ll put his mouth on your pussy and get you off first. Or if he’ll just tease you. Push you to the edge and then slip on a condom to take you the rest of the way. I’d bet he’s more of a teaser, more an equal opportunity man. If you go down on him, he’ll go down on you.

  “When he deems you ready for his cock, he’ll gently ease inside you, looking in your eyes. He’ll keep up a steady pace, asking you the entire time if it’s okay. He’ll try to remember to kiss you as the momentum builds and he fucks you faster. You won’t demand he slow down and see to your needs before his. You decide you’ll let it slide this first time. After he comes, he’ll pant in your ear how good it was. You’ll tell yourself it was okay. Even if you don’t believe it. Even if you have a sense that something was missing.”

  Ainsley stared at him. “And there’s something wrong with that scenario?”

  “Yes, goddammit, there is, because that’s not what you want. That’s the type of sexual encounter you’ve had your whole life.”

  Her haughty look vanished.

  “Now imagine having sex with me.”

  She licked her lips.

  “You know it’s not that civilized with me. Sex with me is raw, dirty and demanding, but you’ll never feel there’s something missing because I will see to your needs above my own. Every. Single. Time.”

  “So you’re more of a giver than a taker?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I take plenty. But never at your expense.”

  She softly said, “Then my answer is yes. One month.”

  Relief flowed through him.

  Ainsley scooted from the booth and Ben followed her outside. He admired how respectable she looked in a form-fitting gold-colored business suit, and he couldn’t wait to thoroughly muss her up. “Be at my place right after work.”

  “So this is strictly clandestine between us?” she asked. “No public outings in Sundance?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I don’t believe we’ll spend all of our time together naked.”

  “Don’t bet the bank on that.” Ben tipped his hat and strode away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben hated putting his dogs outside. But if he wanted to use all the rooms in his house with Ainsley, curious sniffing dogs would put a damper on that real fast.

  He wasn’t a pacing kind of guy, but he beat a path from his kitchen to the bar, through the game room, to his bedroom and back to the living room. He rarely had a case of nerves, but he definitely was feeling them tonight.

  Way to act like a confident Dom.

  Finally, Ainsley knocked on the door.

  Gone was the bank executive. She’d dressed in a long-sleeved T-shirt the color of summer grass, jeans and puffy, down-filled vest. She wasn’t carrying an overnight bag.

  “Hey. Come in. Did you eat?”

  Ainsley shook her head. “Nervous stomach. I wasn’t sure…”

  “If I’d make you strip the instant you walked in and we’d go at it in the foyer?”

  “To be honest, yes.”

  Ben took her hands in his. “Ainsley. I wanna get to know you. All sides of you. Not just how you respond to me when you’re nekkid and trussed up.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “For me too.”

  “Why?”

  “Performance anxiety.”

  She laughed softly, naturally. “I doubt you’ve ever suffered from that in your li
fe.”

  “There’s always that first time. Now, I’ve gotta make an embarrassing confession.” Ben hung his head. “I’m addicted to Wheel of Fortune. Most nights I eat supper in front of the TV so I can get my fix.”

  “Well, that changes things between us dramatically. Because I’m more of a Jeopardy fan myself.”

  “That’s because you have way more brain power than me, smart girl.”

  “Because you’re just a simple rancher, right?” she teased.

  “Yep. So how about if I fix us a bowl of popcorn and you can snicker at me as I try to guess the puzzles?”

  “Sounds good. You need help?”

  “Why? Do you think I’ll burn it?”

  “No. I just want to make sure you pour extra butter on mine.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “If your goal is to keep me off balance, it’s working.”

  They settled in front of the TV. Ben thought you could learn a lot about a person by how they ate popcorn. The quiet munchers? Reserved in life. Loud crunchers? Enjoyed everything with gusto. Eating a single kernel at a time? Very methodical. Piling on extra butter, extra salt and extra seasoning? A hedonistic bent. So it’d pleased him to watch Ainsley pour butter and sprinkle all sorts of seasonings on her popcorn.

  She bumped him with her shoulder. “Have you figured out this phrase yet?”

  “Nope. You?”

  “Yes.”

  “Prove it.”

  “On a chicken wing and a prayer.”

  He groaned. “I hate the pun ones.”

  “Aren’t they all puns?”

  “No. Heh. Look. He went bankrupt anyway. That sucks.”

  During the next commercial, he casually asked, “Are we usin’ condoms?”

  She stiffened. “I guess. Why?”

  “I just hoped you were on the pill. But no biggie.”

  “I’m on the pill but I don’t know if I’m comfortable having sex without a condom, with a man who frequents a sex club. No offense.”

  “None taken. I’ll just mention I got a clean bill of health three months ago and I could show you the paperwork. Twice yearly testing is mandatory for club members. I’ve always worn a condom. No exceptions.”

  “Even when you…play like this, outside the club?”

  Ben faced her, but she was busy rooting around in her bowl. “Look at me.”

  She peeked at him from beneath her lashes.

  “In the years I’ve belonged to the Rawhide I’ve seen a woman outside the club only a few times. But I’ve never done this—asked a woman to be my submissive for a month outside the club.”

  “What about inside the club?”

  “No.”

  She hadn’t been expecting that answer. “Do you have normal relationships? I mean, date normal women who don’t know about you being involved in the club?”

  “I’ll ignore your use of the word normal because of your lack of experience. I used to date. Then my buddy Cody took me to a club in Denver and it changed my life. I no longer felt like a deviant for what I wanted from my partners. I no longer had to pretend my needs were conventional.”

  Ainsley blushed.

  “Every once in a while I’ll meet a woman outside the club and ask her out. But if I can’t be myself, why waste my time?”

  “What’s the longest you’ve dated a woman?”

  “Probably…a month.”

  “Is that why you insisted on a month with me?”

  Astute woman. It’d just seemed like an arbitrary amount of time. “No. As a newbie sub, you oughta know in thirty days whether you’re cut out to be submissive, even just behind bedroom doors.” He gave her a buttery, salty, smacking kiss. “Quit distracting me from Vanna, woman.”

  Ben solved the next puzzle. They bantered back and forth. But when the game show ended, he sensed Ainsley’s anxiety. He set aside her empty popcorn bowl. “Sit on my lap facing me.”

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll make your crotch go numb? I’m not exactly a petite woman, Ben.”

  “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  Ainsley threw her leg over his and straddled his thighs. “I guess Bennett the beastly Dom is back.”

  He curled his hand around her neck and took her mouth in a heated kiss. No easing into it, just sucking in her surprise like a drug. Holding her in place while he controlled the kiss. Keeping it red-hot until she could scarcely sit still. He backed off the intensity, sliding his mouth to her ear. “Go into my bedroom and get undressed. Then lay facedown on the bed.”

  She immediately tensed up.

  Ben waited for her to ask why, or what he had in mind.

  “I…” He heard her swallow. “Which room is your bedroom?”

  “The room with the four-poster log bed.”

  Keeping her eyes averted, she climbed off him and disappeared down the hallway.

  He flipped through channels for five minutes before he followed her. He paused in the doorway, his eyes drinking her in. Ainsley’s body was an abundance of curves, just exactly the body type he liked best.

  After shucking his jeans and shirt, he grabbed a necktie, a condom and a bottle of lube from his dresser. From beside the bed, he ordered, “Spread your arms out.” Then he straddled her, his knees bracketing her thighs. His cock stirred when his balls brushed the soft curves of her ass. Ben placed a kiss on the back of her head, inhaling the subtle scent of her shampoo. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look?”

  He dug his thumbs into the base of her neck and gradually moved across the tops of her shoulders, using a combination of soft and harder pressure. Letting himself enjoy her supple flesh beneath his hands. Goose bumps rippled across her back every time the rougher skin on his hands glided across her. He kneaded her biceps and triceps. He nestled a kiss in the bend of each elbow before massaging her forearms and hands. When he reversed course and dragged his palms over her arms, Ainsley didn’t utter a peep.

  “You’re awful quiet,” he remarked as his thumbs followed the line of her spine.

  “I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to speak.”

  Ben stilled. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because those are the Dom’s rules in books I’ve read.”

  “What books?”

  “The ones that deal with…BDSM.”

  To some extent, he hated the way the term BDSM was thrown around as much as he disliked the casual use of the word Master.

  “Have you read any of those books?” she asked.

  “Fiction? Or nonfiction?”

  “Either.”

  “Nonfiction. When we first went to the Denver club. One of the owners saw that we were clueless bastards and took pity on us. He gave us a stack of material to read so we knew the differences between what we wanted as dominants and what was expected in certain Dom/sub relationships. And I’ll admit, even from the start, I’ve been on the side of the fence where dominance is used as a sexual tool to heighten sexual experiences. I’m not into debasing a sub by using a cage or a pallet to sleep on or a shock collar. Or extreme pain games. Never been tempted by bloodsport or knife play or piss play or even breath play. If I knew subs who were into that stuff, I’d avoid them. But I’ll admit it’s practically nonexistent at the Rawhide anyway.” He rubbed a spot at the base of her neck. “So the subs don’t speak because they’re gagged or something in these books?“

  “No. A sub isn’t supposed to speak unless asked a direct question by her dominant. And in scenes, the sub isn’t supposed to cry out in pain or in pleasure unless the Dom permits her to.”

  Ben tamped down his temper. “Have I ever said you can’t talk?”

  “Umm. No.”

  “Think I’ll ever forbid you from speakin’ your mind?”

  “No.”

  “I might take issue if you argue with me about something I tell you to do, but I don’t expect monk-like silence from you.”

  “Oh.”

  “And this isn’t a scene,” he said testily.

  She lifted up and looked over he
r shoulder at him. “It’s not?”

  “No. Christ. I’m giving you a massage.”

  “Why?”

  “Why am I giving you a massage? Because I wanted to put my hands all over you. And you acted nervous. I thought it’d calm you down.”

  Ainsley continued to stare at him.

  “What?”

  “You confuse me, Bennett. This confuses me. The variances in the different types of Dom/sub relationships…”

  “Hey, there are no rules for us besides the ones I set—with your input. I suspect this will be a learn as we go thing for both of us.” He lightly slapped her ass. “Face back on the mattress, so I can finish.”

  From that point on, Ainsley was vocal.

  “So tell me more about these BDSM books you read. What things you read in them that turned you off.”

  “You’re more interested in what I didn’t like than what I did?”

  “I’m pretty confident I can figure out what you like.” He pressed his thumbs onto a knot beside her right shoulder blade.

  “Oh. I like that. You hit it. Right. On. The. Money.” Another sexy moan of delight. “You have magic hands.”

  “Tell me one sex fantasy that ain’t in a book.”

  Ainsley didn’t answer.

  He stopped the massage. “Tell me or no more magic fingers.”

  She groaned and said, “Fine, I have a stranger fantasy. It’s dark. I wake up and notice him in the shadows. I’m freaked out and then he starts saying all these sexy things. How he’s whacked off imagining how it’d be to touch me. How he knows what I sound like when I climax because he’s watched me touching myself. He does all sorts of sexy, naughty things to me and then he just leaves and I never knew who he was.”

  Ben kissed her temple “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  “I’d hate for you to think I’m the boring banker type with no imagination.”

  His chuckle vibrated against her neck. “The last damn thing you are is boring. So tell me more about these books. Specifically what you don’t like.”

  “I don’t like the master and slave mentality of the BDSM relationships. Where the subs are always expected to kneel at the Dom’s feet. Or when they have to keep their heads lowered and eyes averted, not only for their Dom but also for all other Doms, in a club situation. I don’t like how the subs are supposed to walk three steps behind their Doms. I really didn’t like the leash and collar thing.”