by BJ Wane
“Not going to happen, hon. Jesus,” he swore as he spotted the near empty liquor bottle. “Please tell me that wasn’t full when you started this binge.”
She shook her head and pulled back and he got a good look at her pale face. “Can’t. Sick.”
Letting her go, he shook his head as he followed her awkward dash to the bathroom. He stopped the slam of that door with his hand and refused to give in to her cursing insistence for him to leave as she fell to her knees in front of the commode. As she threw up, he wetted a washcloth in cold water then leaned over and wiped her perspiring, flushed face while flushing the toilet.
“Is that it for now?”
“I’m not talking tonight, so go ‘way.” She made a feeble attempt to push him away.
“Baby, you’re going to have to come up with something else to say or keep quiet. Come on, up you go.” Dan led her out of the bathroom with an arm around her shoulders and back into the living room to grab her jeans. “I’m parked out back, so we can just carry these with us. Let’s go.”
Nan stiffened and braced her feet, halting their trek to the door and drawing his eyes to her long, slender legs. Fuck, but he really liked those legs. “Where?” she asked with a suspicious glare that curtailed the quick spurt of lust.
“My place. I’m not leaving you alone like this and I have to be up early. And don’t worry, I have no intention of betraying your trust by taking advantage of your state to pry answers out of you. You will be stone-cold sober when you tell me what happened.” She opened her mouth to argue and anger overrode his concern. “Don’t fucking argue with me, Nan. I’m already a hair’s breadth away from sending my good intentions to Hell by hauling you across my lap and spanking answers from you.” Knowing him as well as she did, she must have seen how serious, and how frustrated he was because she nodded despite her own annoyance flaring in her red-rimmed eyes.
Luck was with him when she fell asleep on the ride out to his house, which made it easy for him to scoop her up and carry her into the guest room she was no stranger to. After tucking her in, he locked up, tugged off his boots and shirt and settled in the wide cushioned chair next to the bed. He preferred ensuring she would sleep well now rather than being roused from his bed right after getting into it when he got up early to do chores.
Some indefinable emotion rolled through him as he watched her restless shifts and listened to her mumble. He remembered how much he’d missed her while she was away, how he’d taken it personally when she stopped answering his texts and calls even though she’d done the same with her girlfriends. He’d been itching to put his hands on her soft flesh again ever since she returned, craving to hear that breathy catch in her throat as he striped her skin red with a reed-thin cane or leather strap and ached to sink into her tight, wet heat. She was the one woman he never tired of dominating and the only one he’d allowed himself to develop a close, fond friendship with.
Which made it even more difficult to remain calm as she cried out in sudden terror, her slim body twitching as if in pain that went beyond what she’d always reaped pleasure from. She settled down as he leaned forward and brushed his fingers down her clammy cheek, whispering, “Shh, Nan, I’m right here.” He jerked as if struck when she responded with a whimper and pleaded in a tone and with words that cut him to the quick.
“Help me, Dan, Master… please, help…”
Nan drifted into a deeper sleep on a soft moan, leaving him sitting there struggling to contain the rage her fearful pleadings had unleashed. Unwarranted guilt took a painful swat at Dan, adding to the escalating, pounding pressure to punish whoever had hurt her. Not trusting himself, or the unaccustomed emotions her traumatized state unearthed, he surged to his feet and left her sleeping quietly. With fury burning like acid in his gut, he knew sleep was out of the question. With her quivering voice calling for him echoing in his head, he stormed out to the barn. He never felt the soft grass beneath his bare feet, or the concrete floor of the small horse stable, or the straw scattered around the hanging punch bag in the farthest corner.
Foregoing the padded boxing gloves hanging on the wall, he pulled back his bare fists and proceeded to pummel the inanimate object with all the pent-up fury raging inside him. Possible scenarios ran through his mind as his muscles strained, his breathing turned harsh and the tight skin covering his knuckles split. He was so mired in his tormented thoughts, he didn’t hear Bernie enter through the side door until the older man who’d quickly become more of a father figure to him than the one he’d never known reached out and stopped the swaying of the bag.
Bernie’s shrewd hazel eyes took in Dan’s sweaty face and bare, heaving chest with a lifted brow before he asked, “Something bothering you, boy?”
“Shit.” Dan blew out a breath as he bent at the waist, bracing his hands on his thighs and noticing for the first time his bleeding knuckles. “Yeah, Bernie, you could say that.” Before he could ask what, Dan said, “But I don’t have any answers for either of us.”
Straightening, it didn’t surprise him to see Bernie handing him the tube of Campho-Phenique he was never without. “Thanks.” Taking it, he relished the burning sting of the medicine as he dabbed the cream on his cuts. “I have a guest tonight, Nan, who went through something bad. That’s all I know.”
Cocking his graying head, the shorter man returned, “But you’ll find out.”
Handing him back the ointment, he said with unequivocal surety, “Damn right.”
“Then I’ll say goodnight and see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”
Dan caught his breath as he watched Bernie exit as quietly as he’d entered, the soft spot he held for his right-hand man turning even mushier. With a sigh of disgust aimed at his temporary lapse of control, he swiveled and padded over to the young foal’s stall to stroke his fingers down the white star on her head. Compared to the massive spread in northern Montana where he’d grown up as the son of the owner’s live-in housekeeper and nanny, his place was nothing more than a blip. But the smaller acreage and herd suited him just fine and gave him the opportunity to work the ranch and keep up with his legal skills. Before hiring Bernie, his single mother had been the only one proud of him for all he’d accomplished.
Now, with having reached forty, he could say he was happy with his choices in life and content with the path he’d chosen going forward. That was, until Nan had returned with haunted eyes that flashed with fear when they should have been glazed with passion and shattered his control with heartbroken pleas for his help when he’d been oblivious to her need. With the aches he incurred starting to make themselves known, he returned to the house hoping for a few hours of sleep before starting the battle for answers in the morning.
Nan rolled over with a groan, her pounding head and dry mouth reminding her of how she’d spent the night before wallowing in self-pity. Disgusted with herself, she sat up and sucked in a deep breath until the room stopped spinning. By the time she oriented herself, she realized she wasn’t in her room, but Dan’s guest room. She took a moment to search through her limited memory of the previous night and didn’t like the vague hints she was getting. Had she really barfed over the toilet as he’d held her hair back and then washed her face? Geez, how mortifying. Dropping her aching head into her hands, she dug her fingers into her scalp, despairing of the woman she’d let herself become and of the constant failures to gain control of her life.
Lifting her head, she checked the time on the bedside clock, relieved she still had several hours before she opened the shop at one. Then she spotted the tall glass of orange juice, two white pills next to it and the propped-up note written in Dan’s distinctive scrawl. Take the aspirin and a hot shower – you’ll feel better. There’s toast in the oven, lightly buttered. Join me in the stable when you’re ready.
That was so like him, she thought as she downed the pain killers and drank the whole glass of juice. He always thought ahead and always knew what she needed. It wasn’t the first time she’d ended up in h
is guest room after a drinking binge. But never in his bed. Whoa, where the hell did that thought come from? They didn’t have that kind of relationship. It had always been easy for them to maintain a casual friendship when not at the club, and just as easy to slip into a Dom/sub role when inside those walls. Neither of them had ever questioned why that was or wanted anything more.
Sliding out of bed, Nan picked up her jeans off the chair and padded into the attached bathroom. Thirty minutes later, she felt better as she slipped on her sandals, helped herself to the toast and strolled outside wondering what she would say to Dan, how much she should tell him now that he’d seen just how traumatized she’d been. The submissive side of her knew she could trust him, but the independent part of her nature kept insisting she could and should get over her ordeal with no more help. Jay and doctors had been there when she’d required physical healing. A few visits from a psychologist while still in the hospital were enough to convince her she didn’t need or want a shrink poking into her head.
Nibbling the toast, she entered the stable and took an appreciative whiff of hay and horses, smells only someone who loved animals could appreciate. Scanning the stalls, she spotted Dan inside the last one, his hat shielding his expression as he ran a brush over the silky coat of a black and white spotted Appaloosa filly. The foal’s small head rubbed against him in affection and Nan’s heart turned over at the sight.
As she stepped toward them, her mouth went dry looking at the gentle way he stroked the young horse, and then watered as she took in the dark blue tee shirt stretched over his wide shoulders, emphasizing his thick biceps. As usual, his long legs were encased in tight denim, his boots showing the wear and tear of years and outdoor work. Even though she was five foot eight, his towering height forced her head to crane back as she entered the stall and looked up at him.
Glancing at her from the other side of the foal, Dan nudged his hat back and pinned her with a dark, searching gaze. “Good morning. You look much better,” he greeted her with a nod.
Nan tilted her lips in a self-deprecating smile. “I guess a bottle of bourbon and four brownies on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea.” The lingering abdominal queasiness still felt uncomfortable, but she figured nerves might have more to do with that than the alcohol.
“Probably not, but then, when demons won’t leave you alone, what can you do? Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “I know. You can come to a friend and tell him what happened, who hurt you.”
She sighed, glanced away and then faced him again, squaring her shoulders. “Damn it, Dan, it’s not that easy.” Reaching out a hand that suddenly shook, she brushed her fingers along the filly’s long neck, falling in love with the doe eyes she turned on her. “She’s beautiful.” Nan got a head rub that made her melt. “And so sweet.”
“Did he rape you?”
The abruptness of the question startled her and her eyes flew to his face and his rigid jaw. She blew out a breath as she conceded she owed him for the decent night’s sleep last night, even if he had arrived uninvited and unwanted. “No, thank God. He made it painfully clear I had to learn my place before I earned the privilege of his cock.”
Those chocolate eyes flashed with outrage on her behalf. “Jesus, Nan, how the hell did you end up with such a bastard? Was he a sadist?” He came around the horse and gripped her shoulders as she made to turn away. “No. No more hiding, no more running. I want to understand, and then I want to help. Tell me.”
Longing for what he was offering, and what she craved, coiled inside her, but the fear of failing again was still there, as was the shame in admitting to her own stupidity. “An hour with a sadist would have been a welcome respite compared to what he did,” she admitted in a low, shaky voice before looking up at him and pulling out of his grasp. Masking her expression with calm assurance, she said, “I’m fine, Dan.” She conjured up a cheeky grin as she added, “But thanks for tucking me in last night and for the morning after cocktail.”
“You’re fine, huh? So fine you didn’t undress Friday night at the club for the first time since I’ve known you. Before that ass got hold of you, you loved baring yourself in public.” He moved close enough she felt his breath whisper across her face as he whispered, “I loved how you would embrace nudity with such unabashed enthusiasm. Why didn’t you want Master Greg or Master Devin to see your lush breasts?” His dark eyes swept down to her chest and her nipples beaded under his pointed stare. Her breath snagged as he looked back at her and cupped one large hand between her legs, pressing against her pubis. “Or your pretty pussy? You used to get off on just a few pussy spanks.”
Nan heated from head to toe, her body flushing with the rapid flow of blood to her girly parts. This was the heady feeling she’d despaired of ever getting back, the beginning of a gripping ache that would torment her until she exploded in a series of pain driven climaxes. Damn it, then he had to go and ruin the fantasy of believing she could achieve that high again as he stepped away from her and pet the little filly.
“You like her, then she’s yours. For a price.”
Nan stiffened and went cold as she glared at him in disappointment. “There’s a price for everything, isn’t there? Even friendship.”
He winced then hardened his jaw. “Not normally, no, and you fucking well know that. But then again, these aren’t normal circumstances, are they?” he returned coolly.
Well, hell, wasn’t that the shitty truth? She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to her about that precious baby when in truth she would give her eye teeth to raise the filly as her own. Master Dan knew just how to play her, and reel her in. “Just out of curiosity, what’s your price?”
“Your complete trust. Give yourself to me, and not just at the club this time, and agree to my demands. The first time I get you to climax, she’s yours, and our bargain can end.”
Oh, wow, I never expected that. His suggestion sent warm tingles dancing down her spine, a temptation she was hard-pressed to turn down. A chance to get back the confidence Gerard had stolen from her and win the foal would be a dream come true. She’d always wanted a horse of her own but had intended to wait until she could buy a few acres to keep it on instead of boarding it. But gazing into those soft, trusting eyes had won her over and there was no going back now. She couldn’t help thinking that might have been Dan’s plan all along.
“I’ve never known you to be so manipulative,” she said without censure.
“I’ve never been presented with such a challenge before.”
Dan reached behind her and wound her hair around his hand and wrist until his knuckles rested against her nape with the snug hold. She held her breath, waiting for the tug, refusing to panic as the flashback of Gerard’s cruel grip and drag on her scalp threatened the fond memory of the tug she used to love. But he just held patiently still, his eyes steady on her face, giving her the option to move and create that yank on her scalp herself or to stay still.
“What are you trying to prove?” she asked when her jitters calmed, confused by this maneuver.
“Nothing. I’m showing you I’m willing to let you set the pace and call the shots here first, until you’re more comfortable. When you are, I’ll take over and then we’ll go to the club.”
His offer surprised her, the reason for it renewing her frustration. “But, you’ll hate that!” When it came to sex, he was a dominant man, needing to control as much as she craved to be taken over. She didn’t want her fears to keep him from enjoying the lifestyle like they were her.
A small smile curled his lips. “Yeah, I will. But you’ll need that assurance to get you over the first hurdle.” He released her hair and pivoted, walking out of the stall, his next words causing a wet gush to dampen her panties. “You used to love going down on me, and in case I’ve never mentioned it before, no one can give head as good as you, at least from what I remember. I may need a reminder to be sure. I’ll be up at the house when you decide.”
The casual way Dan tossed out the suggestion for oral se
x and the thread of excitement the idea evoked reminded Nan of why she’d always enjoyed his company. What do I have to lose? Her first thought propelled her feet forward, her response making her eager to discover if indulging in that sexual act outside of the club would turn her on as much as when she’d performed it in public. But she halted after taking only two steps, her insecurities rising to the surface. What if she freaked out again, like she had the other night? Who would be more upset if she failed to go through with it, if she managed to suck and stroke his cock into a throbbing erection and a return of terror forced her to back away?
The little filly neighed behind her, the sweet sound pulling her back into the stall to stroke her silky head. Shit, was she such a fucked-up mess she would walk away from his offer, from the first light at the end of the dark tunnel she’d failed to emerge from on her own? Before she could decide, the side door opened and a young man she didn’t recognize entered, his startled gaze taking in her unexpected presence.
“Hi. I’m a friend of Dan’s. Are you one of the new hands around here?” His gaunt face reminded her of other veterans Dan had hired and helped in the past.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Pete.” He came over and held out his hand, his brows dipping as he got a close look at her face. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, a little too much to drink last night is all,” she returned with a wry grin at his astuteness as she shook his hand. “I’m Nan, and I hope I’m way too young for you to continue calling me ma’am.”
A sheepish look crossed his face. “Respectful politeness is drilled into you in the military and it’s a hard habit to break.”
“I guess there are worse ones.” Shoring up her resolve and nerves, she ran her palms down her thighs as she said, “He’s waiting for me at the house. Nice to meet you, Pete.”