Cowboy Casanova: Rough Riders, Book 12

by Lorelei James

  He tipped his head back and looked at her when she sighed. “We’ll pick this up later. Meantime, feel free to use my robe.”

  “I can’t get dressed?”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Keep it up and you’ll be eatin’ supper nekkid.”

  “Your robe will be just fine.”

  He smirked and tossed her a towel. “Thought you might say that.”

  After supper they watched the DVR’d episode of Wheel of Fortune and snuggled up on the couch.

  Ben liked having Ainsley close. Their legs side by side on the ottoman. Her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand on his chest. His fingers trailing up and down her arm. Touching her without restriction as a Dom was one thing. But touching her like this? Almost absentmindedly just because he could? That gave him a sense of satisfaction on a different level.

  “You don’t talk much about ranching.”

  “Not much to say. I get up, I do it, I come home, go to bed and repeat the next day. Pretty much the same day in, day out. Except for when we’re calving or haying.”

  Ainsley drew circles on his pec. “Do you get bored?”

  “I don’t have time to get bored.”

  “Tell me one thing you did today that was out of the ordinary.”

  He smiled because she’d tried to wrest control. Instead of waiting for him to question her about something personal, like he had last night, she’d tried to get the jump on him by keeping her question innocuous. “I got an awesome blowjob in the shower.”

  She poked his sternum. “Besides that.”

  “I had a beautiful lady bring me supper.”

  Three more pokes. “Come on. Tell me something.”

  Ben tried to remember what the hell he had done today. “How about while I’m thinking on that you tell me something out of the ordinary you did today.”

  Silence. Then she sighed. “I can’t think of a single thing.”

  “So banking is as boring as ranching?” he teased.

  “At least it was today. Tomorrow I’m hoping for—”

  “A bank heist?”

  “Bite your tongue, Ben McKay.”

  He laughed. “Well, tomorrow afternoon I’ll be doin’ something out of the ordinary. I’m taking my folks to the Rapid City airport.”

  “Where are they going?”

  “Phoenix.”

  “On vacation?”

  “Of sorts. They’re mostly goin’ to see my brother Gavin.”

  Ainsley tilted her head to look at him. “I remember you talking about your older brother, Quinn, and your younger brother Chase, but not about Gavin.”

  “That’s because Gavin is…let’s just say Gavin recently came into our family.” Ben laid out the situation. “Long story short, we’re still tryin’ to figure it out. On the spur of the moment Gavin invited Mom and Dad to Arizona. So I won’t be around tomorrow night.”

  “Oh.”

  Did it make him a bastard for being happy to hear disappointment in her voice? “Which is why you’re spending the weekend here starting Friday night.”

  She blinked at him. “I am? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

  “Because that wasn’t a request.” Well, it was, but he didn’t want to risk she’d say no.

  “Okay. Should I bring anything?”

  “Your collection of vibrators.”

  Her cheeks pinked. “How did you—”

  “You told me at the club, remember?”

  “No. That’s not something I usually share.”

  Ben kissed her nose. “We’re sharing a lot, though, aren’t we?”

  “Some of us more than others,” she snipped.

  That stopped him. “You think I’m holding back?”

  “I know you’re holding back, cowboy.”

  “About what?”

  “About how you became Master Bennett.”

  He frowned. “Master. I hate that fuckin’ term.”

  “I know.” Her smirk faded beneath his scrutiny. “You’ve grilled me about why I believed I was a Domme. You’re determined to prove I’m submissive, but you’ve never explained how you became interested in this lifestyle.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d buy the explanation of pure dumb luck?”

  “Not entirely.”

  He settled back in the cushions. Had he ever explained this to anyone? “About eight years ago, me, Cody, Trace and Trent were drinking at the Rawhide Bar after closing time. Bullshitting about jobs and women. Complaining about not getting laid enough. Them guys were coming up with sure-fire strategies to get laid and what kind of women they were goin’ after. When the conversation rolled to me and what I wanted from a woman, I told ’em I wanted a woman who’d give me total sexual control, without question or hesitation.”

  Ben still remembered that panicked feeling after confessing the truth to his closest friends. His worry something was wrong with him, even when he’d been too chicken to act on the erotic and exotic images constantly playing out in his head. Was he a deviant? A psychopath? A sociopath? Would it be enough if he fulfilled his binding, spanking and fucking fantasy, where his partner screamed and creamed from sexual pleasure? Or would he move on to a violent and twisted scenario? Because from what he could tell, his ideas were very twisted. Nice men didn’t fantasize about hitting women with whips and canes. Nice men didn’t fantasize about tying women up. Nice men didn’t fantasize about doing all of that to women while fucking them like an animal.

  “Ben?”

  He looked at her. “Sorry. Just thinkin’. Come to find out Cody, Trace, Trent and me were all on the same wavelength. We found a couple of clubs in Denver that catered to what we wanted. Bein’ in those places lifted a huge burden off me. I wasn’t a total freak. Or a bad man. There was a name for what I liked. For what I was. And a place where I could go to explore all aspects.”

  “Labels are important to you?”

  “I’ve always been labeled—Charlie McKay’s middle boy, the one between Quinn and Chase. But I didn’t think, ‘Hey, I’ll join a kinky sex club to set myself apart’. As relieved as I was to find out who I was, I didn’t want anyone in my family to know what I was up to. I still don’t.”

  “So began the secret life of Bennett McKay.”

  “It was a long way to drive, but we did it regularly for a couple years. Then Cody and Trace kicked around the idea of starting a similar, private club in Gillette. After they remodeled the old brothel space, we brought Murphy up from Denver to run it. We’d met Sully in Denver and found out he lived in Gillette. He brought in Riley. Riley brought in Gil. Gil brought in Bryce. All guys who either had Dom experience or were willing to learn. The ten of us set up the club rules, Murphy screened prospective club members, we opened the doors six years ago. Membership stays steady. But it’s never been about makin’ money.”

  “Are you financially invested in the club?” Ainsley asked.

  “Typical banker question.” Too bad he hadn’t invested in it. That might solve some of his current financial issues. But Ben would come across as a fucking pussy if he admitted an emotional investment to the place had always been more important. That for him, it’d never been solely about the kinky sex, but him finding acceptance in himself.

  “That wasn’t an answer,” she pointed out.

  Once again she’d tried to commandeer the conversation, which had forced his thoughts to money and how he’d come up with his portion to buy Rielle’s place, rather than the fact he had a naked sub sitting right next to him. “Because we’re done talking.” He allowed his gaze to linger on the curve of her breast peeking out by the lapel. “Ditch the robe.”

  Ainsley stood in front of him naked, awaiting instruction.

  “Face the TV.” He unearthed the fur lined handcuffs from beneath the couch cushion. As soon as she assumed the position, he cuffed her.

  Ben struggled to shimmy his sweatpants off over his erection. Once he had his clothes off, he rolled on a condom. He said, “Turn around,”
and crooked his finger at her.

  He braced her shoulders as she straddled his lap. He buried his face in her neck, searching for the honey-almond scent that drove him wild.

  She shivered but didn’t try and squirm away.

  Ah. Progress.

  Using just his fingertips, he traced the line of her stubborn jaw. Caressed the corded muscles in her neck. Traced the angle of her clavicle to the edge of her shoulder. Every glorious indentation and plane. Then he followed the plump curves of her breasts past those pretty pink nipples. He curled his hands over her ribcage and stroked his thumbs over the soft, feminine swell of her belly and across that sensitive skin between her hipbones. Sometimes he murmured verbal worship of these amazingly unique female parts as his fingers explored, but tonight he wanted to concentrate on every hitch in her breathing. Every reaction to his touch.

  He already caught the scent of her arousal and his dick stood at attention, ready to satisfy the call of her body.

  Ben ran his fingers through her hair while he kissed her. Unhurriedly. She matched him kiss for kiss. Never veering from his lead. Giving all of herself over to him.

  In that moment she was wholly his. What a fucking rush.

  He’d intended to drag this out. Teasing those hot spots on her neck with his mouth until she begged to come and then getting her off with his hand. But now? He just wanted to fuck her.

  He released her hair and aligned his cock to the source of that fragrant wet heat. Still feeding her deep soul kisses, he put one hand on her ass and urged her to lower her pelvis to his.

  Then he was sliding up into that sublimely tight, hot pussy.

  Ainsley briefly broke her mouth free from his to gasp softly.

  Ben pumped his hips up to meet her downward thrusts. Each deep stroke drove his need higher. His need to hear her cry out. His need to see the pleasure on her face he’d denied her yesterday. He latched onto the handcuffs, angling her body back. Then he slipped his free hand between her thighs.

  Her eyes opened and she groaned.

  Using the wetness from her body, he rubbed his thumb over her clit.

  She began bumping her pelvis against his hand, trying to get more friction. “Please.”

  “No.”

  Immediately her body stilled. Then she surrendered.

  “Good girl.” After teasing her, reminding her who was in charge of her orgasms, Ben quickened the motion of his thumb, increased the pressure on that plumped bit of flesh and watched as Ainsley came unhinged.

  She was a goddess, swamped with pleasure, her head thrown back, her silky hair swaying, her kiss-swollen lips parted as she cried out, the pulse throbbing in her neck in tandem with the pulse throbbing beneath his stroking thumb.

  He drew out the climax, and only when she was spent did he drive himself over the edge. Yanking on the cuffs chain, bowing her body backward so he could see his cock pumping in and out of her. His fingers dug into her thigh when his balls lifted.

  Ainsley’s pussy squeezed his cock as seed shot out of his shaft.

  Ben’s eyes rolled back in his head. He blanked out as her sex milked him of any thought processes. Zoned out, done in, checked out.

  Sweet nuzzling on the side of his face roused him. “Bennett.”

  “Mmm?”

  “I like the cuffs.”

  He laughed and kissed his favorite spot on her throat.

  “And thank you for easing me into this Dom/sub thing.”

  Ben looked at her. “A forced blowjob and me handcuffing you during sex is…easing you into it?”

  She nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, your aggressive side really does it for me. Like when you tied me to the bench at the club. But I like this closeness too. It almost felt…like it was more than sex.”

  Instead of admitting, for me too, he said gruffly, “Bend your knees.” He helped her stand, removed the cuffs and checked the circulation in her arms before hitting the john to ditch the condom. When he returned to the kitchen, Ainsley was dressed.

  “Leaving?”

  “I need to get my beauty sleep. Don’t you know bankers’ hours are brutal?”

  He laughed.

  “Have a safe trip to Rapid City tomorrow and I’ll see you Friday after work.”

  Ben walked her out to her car, ignoring her protests that she wasn’t afraid of the dark.

  As he watched her drive away he knew he’d have to push her next time. Break down some of those barriers. Even when he understood it’d cause some of his walls to crumble a little too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The doorbell rang and Ainsley set the bottle of Pinot Grigio alongside the two wineglasses on the kitchen counter.

  As soon as she answered the door, Layla squeezed Ainsley in a big hug. “It’s so great to have you living so close.”

  “I’ll admit your phone call this morning surprised me.”

  “Because I invited myself over? We don’t live that far apart anymore, so there’s no excuse for us not to hang out. Besides, we would’ve thought nothing of driving an hour across Denver to have dinner together.”

  “True. Come in.”

  The cats observed from the end of the hallway as Layla kicked off her Ugg boots and draped her parka and scarf over the back of the couch.

  “Cute kitties,” Layla cooed, crouching down to hold out her hand. “What are their names?”

  “Wally is the tabby. I found him last spring huddled by a cart return at Wal-Mart. Poor thing was just a baby. And Charo, the calico, was my animal shelter rescue the week before. Some sicko kid scorched her tail and cut off one side of her whiskers. But look at that cute face. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Charo. As in she’s been…charred? A, you have a bizarre sense of humor.”

  Ainsley poured the wine, handing Layla a glass. “I apologize for the boxes all over the living room. I haven’t completely unpacked.”

  Layla tucked herself into the corner of the loveseat. She ran her hand over the peacock blue cushion. “This is a stunning sofa. So bright.”

  “I swore I’d never have a neutral room again. Nothing boring. Or safe.” Ainsley’s gaze moved over the spring green chairs opposite the vividly patterned blue and green couch that complemented both the chairs and loveseat.

  “I’m glad you’re stepping outside that neat little box you’ve lived in for so long.”

  “Better late than never.” She let the wine rest on her tongue. “So Murphy didn’t need you in the bar tonight?”

  “Thursdays are quiet. People are gearing up for the weekend. I probably would’ve sat at home anyway, and Murph agreed I needed to come here to talk to you.”

  Ainsley’s face warmed, recalling the last time she’d seen Layla at the club. Was she here to explain that scene? “I wasn’t sure what my reaction would be to watching you and Murphy. It wasn’t what I expected. Can we just leave it at that?”

  “What are you talking about?” Layla’s eyes widened. “Oh. The public scene last weekend?” She waved her hand. “I’m not an exhibitionist, which is why Murphy almost always chooses that punishment when I’ve stepped over the line. I’m here to talk to you about something else. Someone else actually. Bennett.”

  “What about him?”

  “Let me say I knew Bennett was a rancher. I had no idea where. As a sub, I don’t ask questions that will get me in trouble. Murphy and I were talking about you, specifically the changes in your life, including moving from Denver to Sundance. He got really quiet. Which freaked me out. Then he told me Bennett lives in Sundance.”

  Ainsley swirled the wine in her glass before she looked up. “I know. We’ve already run into each other.”

  Layla gasped. “You did? Did he recognize you?”

  “Right away.” She groaned. “Of course it happened at the bank. He requested my presence at his place that night so we could talk. And…” Why was she feeling shy, telling Layla this?

  “And what?”

  “He asked for a month of me being his submissive.”

/>   “I’m assuming you said yes?”

  “Why would you assume that?” Ainsley said a little sharper than she intended.

  “Whoa.” Layla held up her hand. “Not trying to piss you off, A. I suspected you’d be a good fit for Bennett in the club. Especially since you’re not sure if you’re interested in participating in this lifestyle beyond a short-term sampling. And Bennett…well, he only does short-term.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Bennett likes variety. He’s got excellent instincts with whips, floggers, riding crops and canes, knowing how far he can push the submissive’s pain threshold. Seems he’s always being asked to show his expertise on another member’s partner. When he gets her to that headspace, he returns her to her partner.”

  “So Ben doesn’t have sex with every woman he demonstrates on?”

  Layla shook her head. “Hardly any, actually. He’s very mindful of boundaries, yet there’s never any doubt who’s in charge during the scene. There’s something about his quiet intensity that draws subs like bees to flowers.”

  “Or it could be the size of his…ah…stinger that attracts them,” Ainsley said.

  “Oh man.” Layla giggled. “Ain’t that the truth. Murph once gave me twenty lashes because he caught me licking my lips during one of Bennett’s public scenes.”

  “Yes, Ben’s got a smoking hot body besides his impressive stinger.”

  Layla squinted at her. “What’s up with you calling him Ben?”

  “When he’s in Dom mode he’s Bennett. When we’re hanging out, he’s Ben.”

  “How much time have you spent with him?”

  “The last three nights. We’ve come to terms on the specifics of his one-month proposal. Since we live in the same town, he suggested we skip the club for the month.”

  “Are you all right with that? You trust him? Because some subs only want to play where there’s supervision in case the Dom goes too far.”

  “I trust Bennett. Even when the idea of surrendering that much control to him scares the bejeezus out of me.”