Cowboy of Her Dreams

by Kira Barcelo

  “You need to test it out?” she clarified. “But why? You won’t be here.”

  “Jenna, honey, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I won’t be gone forever. I will come back here—and often, too. So if it looks like I’m going to need to take you over my knee, I’ll have the brush for those times when more than just my hand needs to get the point across. Now of course…” Turning the hairbrush over in his hand, he examined it. “…that’s if it works wells enough.”

  “Hmmm…” Mulling that over, she conceded that Stone was talking like a man who had no intentions of staying away forever. “Want to test it out now?”

  “Now? My mind is set on rockin’ your world, baby, but…you want to test it out now?”

  “Well, only if you do. If you want to rest assured it’ll do a good job when you come home.” Letting that sink in, Jenna stressed, “Because this is home.”

  “It sure is,” he agreed quietly. His mouth formed a smile. “Okay, honey. Let’s see if this baby’s up to par.”

  “Oh-okay.”

  He was out of bed first and she scampered off the mattress with him, trembling mildly with anticipation. As she might have guessed, Stone guided her over to the bed bench. That particular item of furniture had always struck her as unnecessary, though Jenna had to admit that if a bedroom was large enough to accommodate both a bench and a bed, it certainly did come in handy while pulling up one’s boots or tying one’s sneakers.

  She wouldn’t be looking at this one ever in the same way again after that night, however.

  “You can just—that’s good, baby. Just relax,” he told her.

  “Relax!” It was impossible not to be incredulous while she was being eased face-down onto her belly across the bench.

  In the past, she’d had some of her clothing on, at least, while she was being spanked. This time she was completely naked, with a bottom high enough in the air as to make it an exceptionally provocative position. In other words, Stone had a view of a bit more than just her rear end. Not surprisingly, it added more than a bit to the arousal she was already feeling all through her body.

  “And I’ll be honest with you, too,” she offered.

  “Honest? Oh, you mean you won’t tell me it’s got your tail on fire if it really feels like love taps?”

  “Ummm, something like that.”

  Stone chortled. Looking back, she saw him seat himself on the bench. To her left, he had a firm grip on the brush handle and had it poised on his lap.

  “Honey, I’ll be able to tell by your expression. But I appreciate your honesty. While we’re on the subject, you not being honest with me and lying to me about anything is a good way to give this thing a good workout on your behind. So, for future reference, lying will not be tolerated. Anyway…ready?”

  She drank in a good, deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Maybe it’s not as tough as it looks. Maybe it’s better for show. His hand might even hurt more than that piece of—

  “Ouch!” Since Stone had pulled the bench away a few inches from the bed, she had nothing to hold onto and had to rest her hands on the floor when that first whack of the hairbrush came down hard on her rear.

  “Hmmm. That sure ain’t all that impressive. Let’s try this again, a little harder this time…”

  Whack! He’d drawn his arm farther back that time before the brush bit into her derriere.

  “Ohhhh—owwww!—I don’t know, baby,” Jenna put in her two cents. “I’m, uh—im—impressed.”

  The second smack of the unyielding back of the hairbrush had kindled that uncomfortable warmth brought by the first smack. She let out a gasp when Stone rained a third and fourth whack on her butt, which by now was beginning to seriously smart.

  To her relief, the next thing she felt was his large hand, newly calloused by his work on the ranch, softly stroking and soothing her cheeks. His tone of voice was scrumptiously affectionate.

  “It’ll do!” he announced. “It did a good job of turning your buns a pretty shade of hot pink.”

  “Oh, good, honey. I’m so glad you got your money’s worth. Just for future reference, as you would say, cowboy, I’m going to try to be a good girl, though. Make sure it collects lots of dust in that drawer.”

  “I’m sure you will—but I doubt that’ll happen!” Laughing, Stone set the brush aside on the bed and took hold of her waist, then thought better of it. “Come to think of it, you’re fine right where you are, baby. Hold on, all right?”

  “Yessir!” Jenna giggled.

  Yes, her butt hurt a little. Not as much as it would have, had he really been spanking her. She could see herself dreading as that thing was being brought out.

  But briefly having him test the vintage hairbrush’s strength on her backside had been, strangely enough, sort of fun. No—it was fun, not just sort of. It had stung good and hard, but the payoff had been his hand touching her, first in a way meant to soothe, and then it had turned into a playful fondling. However stern he’d been while administering a real spanking, he was now being flirty, and as a man, he knew just how she wanted to be touched and stroked as a woman.

  I’m sure you will—but I doubt that’ll happen. A woman didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know he meant he’d be spanking her again, if and when she needed it. Jenna knew she most likely wouldn’t always be in agreement with those spankings, either. Though, truthfully, she’d liked sitting on his lap afterwards.

  And she absolutely loved this. He was taking her from behind, leaning into her but not throwing the whole weight of his body on top of her. When he slid into her, she groaned ever so softly.

  “Sorry about that, baby,” she heard him whisper in her ear. “Try not to tense. Relax…”

  He had said it would hurt a little, hadn’t he? She took his advice, relaxing and taking deep breaths. The pain was nothing compared to whatever his hand was doing to her from behind, and in some moments it subsided. As he moved back and forth inside her, his fingertips played teasingly with what felt like a small tissue, almost like a little button that, when stimulated, was sending off currents of delight throughout her body.

  “That feel good, Jen? You like that?”

  “I love the way it feels.” She thought for a moment. It was difficult now to turn around with him on top of her, so she clutched his arm instead. “I love the way you feel.”

  “Oh, baby, I feel the same way about you. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  Hearing him behind her, he did less speaking as his thrusts became harder and more frequent. His breathing itself was becoming heavier. Whatever he was doing, both inside her and with his fingertips, were driving her crazy. Her own breaths were coming faster now, almost as fast as the rhythm of her heart. After the initial pain of him entering her for the first time, there was only the sensation of hot, intense pleasure.

  This is a climax! Jenna had never experienced one before, but it was too amazing and too outstanding not to recognize it when it finally came. Her climax was nearly in unison with Stone’s, since she could hear him a few seconds later, enthralled in the moment.

  When it was over, he collapsed alongside her on the bench. Once he was able to, he helped her off the bench and led her back to the bed, wrapping his entire body around hers. She pressed up against him, only for no other reason but because it felt good having their bodies so close that she could feel his heart beating lovingly against her own.

  A virgin no longer, Jenna thought.

  Before, her heart and soul had belonged to this man.

  And now her body did, too.

  But his plane was leaving for the West Coast the next day. At two o’clock, he’d be waving goodbye to her at the airport before disappearing down a ramp.

  Jenna held on tighter to him, wishing she’d never have to let him go.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It might have been better for Stone if he’d never returned to his ranch.

  He sipped at his coffee, grimacing at the taste. Back to film
ing—that meant back to nonfat dairy creamer and sweeteners with an aftertaste instead of good, old-fashioned cream and sugar. Back to strenuous cardio and weights at the gym; back to watching his weight.

  In other words, no hard, physical work that came naturally at the ranch, and definitely none of Jenna’s good home cooking. After a few weeks of enjoying meals that woman had whipped up in the kitchen, he’d had to work at trimming away the eight pounds he’d put on his six-foot frame.

  My ranch. It was really our ranch.

  Stone consulted his watch for the hundredth time that day, then turned in his seat to watch the scene being filmed several feet away. On television, that would look like an actual hospital emergency room. In total, there were four actors on the set, including the one lying on the stretcher pretending to be unconscious, his clothes covered by fake blood.

  The two women and the other man were dressed in scrubs and latex gloves. As soon as the cameras started rolling, there was the obligatory demand for “Gimme twenty cc’s!” and more medical jargon tossed around confidently by the actors for good measure.

  Stone had a few minutes—possibly more—before his scene, where he’d walk into the hospital and cajole the same “doctor” into letting him question the groggy patient, who would tell him about the strange episode with a cat who’d saved him from the clutches of death. At the hands of a violent drug gang, no less.

  It was all very overly dramatic and, ultimately, pretty cool. He liked the writing and most, if not all, of the cast. There was one arrogant jerk he’d worked with before, who would have a recurring role as the D.A., but Stone could handle dealing with him on a professional level. He’d thought Ashley would be the only problem for him, but they actually ended up getting along better than when they were engaged.

  Interesting, how things worked out. He could still see himself getting married in the near future…but to the cowgirl who’d stolen his heart, plus made a cowboy out of him.

  “Ho-hum! I’ve forgotten how boring this gets when it’s not your turn in front of the camera.”

  Smiling, he turned to face Ashley. She was in her flesh-and-blood woman makeup, as opposed to the human-woman-in-the-process-of-transforming-into-a-cat makeup. Considering they were working with a TV series budget, the makeup artist had to be a future contender for an award in that area, if the series lasted long enough for nominations to come its way.

  As for wardrobe, Ashley’s was designed to make her look cool and sophisticated, yet the audience was never to forget she was also drop-dead sexy, as well. Ashley was passionately loving the figure-flattering dresses and skinny jeans and lace tops favored by her character, who was a scientist by day and a shapeshifter by night.

  “Wish you were back in Wyoming, Ash?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do. How weird is that?”

  His eyes widened. “I was only teasing. That wasn’t the answer I expected, that’s for sure.”

  “You know, honey, I’m not as shallow as you—well, okay, everybody thinks I am.” She looked slightly hurt.

  “I know you’re not.”

  Knowing they needed to move, in spite of their whispering, he rose and escorted her outside the building. The Florida heat was even more suffocating for him, dressed in his character’s suit and tie.

  “Stone, I meant to thank you.”

  “For…?”

  “Oh, you’re not going to believe this…but thanks for letting Tom Riley, uh…you know.”

  Though he kept a straight face, he regarded her with a roguish glint in his eye. “You mean for letting him give you the spanking you so richly deserved for, well, ever?”

  “Hey, I’m trying to be humble here.”

  He laughed. “Okay. My apology. Glad it did some good. I should’ve done that myself a long time ago. Not all women would agree, though.”

  “Believe me, I didn’t think I ever would.” Shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare, she smiled at him. “I thought that only happened in the old westerns. Guess there are still some old-fashioned men out there like Tom who are ready and willing to—to—”

  “To spank a naughty brat when she needs it? Yeah, us cowboys are still around.”

  “Good to know!” She sounded sincerely, beaming happily. “But, oh, I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but—”

  “But you miss Tom even more than you miss being out in the country. That’s okay, Ash. I miss Jenna, too. And I miss Jake. And I miss my home and all that goes with it.” Sighing, he loosened his tie. “I miss my father, too. We had such a rocky relationship. I got some of that blame, but I’m trying not to dwell on it.”

  “Good. You shouldn’t dwell on it. Don’t dwell on the mistakes, Stone. Your father would be so proud today. Proud and pleased with you.”

  “Yeah. Well…” He squared his shoulders, the big, strong male in him not willing to succumb to that sliver of regret he was dealing with right then. “That’s one drawback to this, and that’s that it doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

  “What doesn’t feel the same? Being here and doing this?”

  If she were anyone other than the woman he’d almost married, he wouldn’t have been making that confession to her. But Stone trusted Ashley, and his trust was well placed.

  “Hey, Ash, you think it’s possible to love something else?”

  “You mean something real? Something that gets you away from this place and all that is plastic and make-believe?” She rubbed his arm. “Oh, yes. I do think that. That’s also a part of who you were, Stone. A part of who you still are. And it must mean even more to you now because now you realize there’s someone who loves you waiting back there for you. There was before, too. Now, instead of your dad and sisters, it’s someone else. Your cowgirl.”

  A woman of about twenty-one emerged from the building. She looked nervous, as if she were afraid to interrupt them for fear of being scolded. Stone recognized her as the young woman hired to work as Ashley’s assistant on the show.

  “They need me?” Ashley spoke first.

  “Well, no—they’re asking for Mr. Farrell. It’s time for his scene.”

  “Thanks, Hannah. And you don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Farrell.’ Stone’s fine, hon.”

  “Okay, Mr.—Stone!” Giggling, the awkward and star-struck girl nearly fell over her own feet on her way back into the building, an old mill the production crew had rented for much of the indoor scenes.

  “We have a beach scene tomorrow night,” Ashley reminded him as he turned to leave. “We’ll be wearing lighter clothes then—yay!”

  “Yay is right, honey. I’m dyin’ in this stupid suit!”

  Walking back inside, Stone was grateful for the air-conditioning, and even more so for the talented and friendly makeup artist, not to mention future possible award winner, who expertly worked her magic on him to replace the makeup he’d lost in perspiration. In minutes, she made him look like he’d just stepped out of a cool, air-conditioned car, which was precisely what the scene called for.

  For a little while, at least, he got to be the fictional Florida town’s Chief of Police Ned Overbeck. Yet it comforted him to know that the cowboy was right there beneath the surface. Because that was who Stone Farrell, the man and not the actor, really was: a cowboy and a rancher.

  And now, too, a man so in love that he could barely stand to be away from his Jenna.

  A cowboy and a rancher. Just like he’d always been in his father’s eyes…and his woman’s.

  That first day of filming for the show’s pilot ended later than anyone would have liked, but especially for Stone.

  He’d hoped to get in a light seafood dinner at one of South Beach’s less tourist-infested eateries. He always preferred, no matter where he was filming on location, a restaurant favored by the locals. In his experience, that those had always had the best food. Afterwards, he’d hoped to sign up at a local gym that would allow him to work out for an hour or so on the elliptical after signing on the dotted line.

  None of that fun crap’
s happening now, he thought, shoving open the door to his hotel room with his shoulder.

  For now, the cast and crew were being put up in a hotel. Once Secrets of the City was picked up—if it was picked up, and that was a big if—lodging would be different. Stone would look into a comfortable but small apartment, anything that suited his needs until he could fly back to Wyoming on the weekends and when the entire cast and crew went on hiatus.

  Funny, how things like staying in a hotel while he worked on a show used to thrill him. That had made all the time during which he couldn’t find an acting job, back when he was a less experienced and struggling young actor, worth the hassles and heartaches.

  It had made him feel like a Name, like a Somebody. A guy with an Oscar or an Emmy in his future. Some kind of recognition for all the rejection he’d endured, all the years he’d worked at other jobs to support himself.

  Come to think of it…why had those things been so important to him? A trophy gathering dust on a mantle? Why was that more to be desired than other things about his career? Wasn’t the work itself, and complete strangers coming up to say how much they’d enjoyed some movie or show he’d been in, that he’d given them some joy, enough?

  And now, too, a hotel room was…a hotel room. Was there any difference between them, other than the furnishings? They all shared one trait, at least in his opinion: Hotels, and that included the most costly ones, seemed like somewhat lonely places. Even this one, up on the twelfth floor with a terrace overlooking Miami’s famous South Beach beneath a moonlit night sky.

  Dinner was a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato on a whole wheat roll with light mayo and a diet cola. He’d been tempted to order the Cuban sandwich with a side order of fried plantains from the restaurant right next door to the one from where he’d gotten his dinner. Since he was still trying to trim off those pesky eight pounds—and his metabolism didn’t seem to care that he needed to look slimmer than usual for his role—he decided against it.