RopedHitchedandLassoed

by Ann Jacobs

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Roped, Hitched and Lassoed Copyright © 2014 Ann Jacobs

  Cover @Original Syn

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or part by any means existing, without written permission from the author.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  This book was previously published by Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc., as three separate novellas, and as a print collection entitled Heart of the West. The novellas have been revised and merged into one complete novel in this edition.

  Roped, Hitched & Lassoed

  Three siblings, all deeply entrenched in the BDSM lifestyle...

  Jared, wounded warrior who completes his healing as he heals his widowed slave

  Brad, roughshod rodeo cowboy who finally finds he wants more than just a partner in club play

  Diana, who raised her younger brothers and survived a sadistic master’s cruelty, who finds her happily ever after with her vanilla first love.

  Three couples, three interwoven stories of Dominance and submission—but mostly of forever love against a backdrop of the majestic hills of southwestern Wyoming.

  Author Note

  Although frankly erotic and exploratory of hardcore BDSM play, Roped Hitched & Lassoed is romance: the journeys of three couples toward their own discovery of happily ever after, one man and one woman times three.

  The book contains frank language and depicts sexual activity some readers may find shocking. I hope you’ll enjoy the story that couldn’t be depicted honestly with a less graphic presentation, and that you’ll discover the subtleties of the power exchanges that take place between each couple as they seek lasting love in the context of a lifestyle I’ve never embraced but one I find fascinating.

  Visit my website, visit me on Facebook or Twitter, or drop me an email! I love to hear what my readers enjoy in their sensual and erotic romances.

  Table of Contents

  Part One – Jared’s Story

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Part Two – Brad’s Story

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Part Three – Diana’s Story

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  Also by Ann Jacobs

  Roped, Hitched and Lassoed

  By

  Ann Jacobs

  Meet the McTavishes of Tie Siding, Wyoming

  They’re the latest generation of rugged ranchers who carved out a dynasty in the southern Wyoming hills. The hills call to Jared, the youngest, whose military career is broken along with his body. They’ve never let go of Brad, the middle son who combines his love for the land with the family’s heritage of Dominance and submission. Finally, they once again embrace Diana, the eldest, who at the tender age of eighteen held her family together singlehandedly after tragedy took the older generations—first, her father and mother, and two years later, the family patriarch, the founder of the spread.

  This is the interlocked story of the three siblings, their hopes and dreams, their sacrifices—and the deeply rooted family tradition of control by the males, submission by the females.

  Enjoy. These are stories of Domination and submission, of the BDSM lifestyle into which these dynamic lovers were born. Mostly, though, it’s a story of love and triumph, of giving when sometimes the giving hurts. It’s a story of willing power exchange—of a special kind of love some may not understand in full.

  I wrote this frankly erotic story nearly ten years ago as three novellas, each of which touched my heart in a special way. I hope you enjoy the book as it was originally intended—one story of love, of sacrifice, of loss and recovery.

  Three siblings and their lovers all embrace some degree of the BDSM lifestyle, but they never lose sight of the sensuality, the love that underlies their purpose in every sexual action—their determination to grant the ultimate pleasure to their partners, even when granting that pleasure may cause them momentary discomfort.

  Part One – Jared’s Story

  Water. Gotta find water. Sand swirled around Jared McTavish, each individual grain pelting his hands and nose, the only parts of him not covered by the flowing white robe and headdress he’d stolen from the man he’d killed.

  The man—a radical Islamist, one of the ISIS bastards he and his men had been searching for—had shot up Jared’s Humvee and murdered his driver moments before this sandstorm had blown up on the western Iraqi desert. Jared shuddered when he recalled the explosion that had rocked the primitive road ahead of them, and the resultant blood and broken body parts of the soldiers who’d taken the forward position on this hellish assignment.

  Trying to ignore blinding pain in his legs, he stumbled forward—toward his platoon headquarters, he thought. He hunched his shoulders, and dropped his head to his chest to keep the wind-whipped sand from blinding him for real. It seemed he’d been heading toward nowhere for hours, praying for shelter…an oasis…anything but the desolate grave that had already claimed so many of his comrades.

  Can’t go on much longer. His throat parched, every cell in his body screaming from pain as well as thirst, Jared lifted his canteen and let the last precious drops of water dribble through his cracked lips. He ached from the futile effort of moving against the forces of nature.

  There. In the distance, barely visible over shifting dunes nearly as tall as he was, he spied some stately date palms bent nearly double in the wind. He redoubled his efforts, moved faster, his eye on his goal. Shade. Water. Gotta make it, can’t be far now.

  Jared clawed his way over a dune, the last impediment between him and life. On his knees now, for he was becoming too weak to walk, he crawled the last fifty yards, only to look up and see the palm trees disappear, the verdant vegetation turn to arid wasteland. A mirage, he thought as he sank face down on the sand and took one last labored breath.

  Blackness. A sensation of hot sand scorched the palms of his hands, his cheek. Then a halo of light. And a blessed breath of cool, soothing air swirled all around him.

  Thank God. It hadn’t been a mirage after all. Jared inhaled deeply, aerating his parched body, his dry throat. “Water,” he croaked, sensing another presence yet too exhausted to open his eyes.

  Chapter One

  Soft hands cradled his head, tucked what felt like plump, clean pillows beneath it. The sound of fluid hitting a container was music to his ears—ears that had last heard the cry of the wind as it tossed desert sand around him like a shroud. This was better, he thought, lying on a silken couch while a lusty houri tended to his bath. He’d turn the tides on her, ravage her in payback for the way she’d been caressing him. Jared rolled her beneath him, restrained her for his pleasure while she whimpered eagerly in an Arabic dialect he couldn’t understand.

  “Wake up, Captain, and open your mouth.” The voice was
female, the tone firm but still somehow seductive, the language unmistakably English.”I’ve got some water for you.”

  A slow stream of cool water bathed his parched lips, wet his swollen tongue.”More.”

  If this was a dream he didn’t want to wake up. Not now, when he had his lover tied hand and foot to the four posters on his bed. Not when he’d stroked her silky skin until she begged for more, and drunk his fill of her sweet-salty essence. Not as he’d listened to her whimpering his name and begging him to take her. And particularly not now, when he was on his knees between her thighs, set to sink his cock into her sweet yoni and fuck her until they both were wrung out and hung up to dry.

  No, this was definitely not the time for anybody to tell Jared this was only a dream, that like the oasis he’d seen in the desert that had damn near killed him, the erotic interlude he’d been experiencing the past few minutes was only a mirage.

  “Sorry to bother you, Captain, but it’s time to change your dressing.”

  Opening his eyes reluctantly, he looked into the face he’d subconsciously begun placing on the houris in his recurring dream. Nurse Ninia Barker. For the past few days she’d been his waking nightmare, bullying him into taking care of himself when he didn’t really give a damn. But yet, in the dreams he’d been having lately, it was always her face on the woman who kept begging him to take her. Jared let out a string of curses that would have sent most women running for cover, but his profanity didn’t seem to faze Ninia. As if he’d smiled and said ”Thanks”, as though she didn’t notice his erection tenting the blanket, she went about her business, folding back the sheets and baring the wound that had brought him here, to a small VA hospital in Cheyenne, not far from the home near Laramie that he’d left ten years ago when he’d opted for a military career.

  He hadn’t gone back to the Iraqi squadron that he’d been sent to advise, or to his home base here in the States for that matter. The roadside bomb that had riddled his lower body with shrapnel and ended up taking part of his right leg had ended what he’d planned as a lifelong career in the Marines. The docs hadn’t wanted him taking up space at Walter Reed once they’d done all they could and determined he’d never be fit enough to go back to his Special Force Reconnaissance Team. Part of him couldn’t help wishing his second-in-command hadn’t risked his own skin to come back and drag his miserable ass out of the desert, especially at times like this when he was lying more or less helpless, either pretty much in constant pain or with the pain masked by drugs that also dulled his wits.

  “Okay. Looks like another piece of shrapnel has worked its way out.” The pretty blonde stood and motioned for an orderly to come and take him to the procedure room so they could fish out the tiny shard of metal.” How many will this make?”

  Jared shrugged.” How the hell would I know?”

  “Don’t get upset with me. I was just making conversation. Lots of you guys like to keep count of how many pieces of your Humvees have made their way out of your bodies.”

  “Well, I couldn’t care less.” He realized a lot of his irritability came from his situation, but part of it came from watching her, wanting her so desperately but knowing there was nothing more pathetically cliché than a wounded soldier falling for his nurse. She tended him, saw all his weaknesses, while his dick hungered to show her it wasn’t exactly helpless.

  “You couldn’t care less about a lot of things, right, tough guy?” Ninia reminded Jared of a particularly hot Domme he’d once observed in his brother’s Laramie dungeon. Only thing was, that Domme had taken it easier—verbally at least—on the sub he’d watched her playing with than this nurse did on him and the other patients in the small post-trauma rehab unit at the Cheyenne VA Medical Center.” You got banged up a little, so the world’s come to an end.”

  “What the hell would you know about what’s going on in my head?” Jared usually tried to be civil to the people charged with helping him, but Ninia was getting on his nerves. Not only because she’d just fucked up the best dream he’d had since coming back stateside, but because she’d been the main focus of it.” Or about what I’ve been through for that matter?”

  Her lips went white underneath the pink lipstick she had on, and all of a sudden she got so quiet Jared felt like squirming, especially when he noticed dampness gathering in the corners of her big blue eyes, a barely perceptible tremor in her usually steady hands. Still he wasn’t ready to cut her any slack.” Well?”

  When she lowered her gaze, he saw the pain in her expression.” I lost my husband,” she said, “in the fighting in Afghanistan. I’d have given everything I own if he’d come home no more battered than you.”

  He reached out, ashamed he’d taken out his frustration on her and chagrined that she’d had to remind him the whole world was filled with people who’d lost their dreams. Mostly he felt bad for hurting her just because he wanted her so damn much. Jared noticed how her expression softened when he grasped her hand, so he tightened his grip, taking a chance she’d think he was coming on to her like any other pathetic bastard in the place.” I was being an ass. I didn’t mean to take my annoyance out on you,” he told her, moving his thumb over her palm.

  She didn’t move for a moment. Then her hand tightened somewhat on his, and he thought he saw the pulse in her throat speed up. For a moment, he forgot he was in a hospital bed again. He wanted to tug her closer and see if he could taste her there, make her…

  “It’s all right.” She pulled her hand away, her cheeks slightly flushed. Damn, he’d flustered her. But he was also a fucking cripple, helpless to get off that bed and pursue her under his own steam. The jarring reminder made him turn away when she spoke, her irritating composure restored.” Come on, let’s get you into this wheelchair and down to the procedure room. The sooner this piece of shrapnel’s gone, the sooner you’ll be able to get up on your feet.”

  “Don’t you mean foot?” He swung himself into the wheelchair the orderly had brought. It had become second nature for Jared to correct his caregivers when they referred to his prosthesis as though it were part of him instead of a bunch of plastic and titanium. Not that it didn’t work surprisingly well, but nothing could hold a candle to the real thing. Ninia looked stricken, though, so he made himself grin. “I’ll start thinking of feet in the plural when I can actually put the other one back on,” he said, gesturing toward the lower portion of the stump where shrapnel had been coming to the surface lately, requiring removal and keeping him from using his new state-of-the-art prosthesis while each tiny fresh wound healed.

  “Fair enough. Come on, let’s make that happen ASAP. We need to get you out of here and free up your bed for a guy who really needs it.” She managed a smile, and it seemed to have as much effect on his libido as that erotic dream. Man, did he have it bad.

  * * * * *

  Nurse Ninia stuck in his mind, even now, a week after he’d been released from her inpatient ward to get his physical therapy three days a week at the outpatient clinic. Jared closed his eyes and envisioned the bossy blonde as he half-listened to a sports announcer on TV going on about the Broncos’ chances in the upcoming NFL season.

  If it hadn’t been for his leg hurting him like hell, he’d probably have fallen asleep in the living room, but it did, so he grabbed his crutches and made his way to bed where he could elevate the stump. The noise from the TV gave the illusion that he wasn’t alone, lulled him off to sleep.

  Sand dunes white as the snow back home on his Wyoming ranch stretched as far as he could see, past date palms swaying in the hot, dry desert air. A soothing breeze bathed his cheeks when he pulled the flap back and looked outside the luxurious tent where he’d awakened moments earlier.

  He must have died and gone to heaven. Jared could think of no other explanation. The last thing he remembered was crawling, clawing his way across the Iraqi desert in a blinding storm, struggling to reach an oasis. An oasis that had only been a mirage.

  He remembered that. Remembered gasping for air, taking in san
d instead. But apparently he’d been wrong. Apparently just past his line of vision the oasis had been here after all, and God had helped him find the way.

  This was no mirage, but a miracle. He closed his eyes, said a silent prayer this wouldn’t all be gone when he looked again. Relief washed over him when he saw the same welcome scene, when he turned back and found the tent still there.

  And the woman. Ninia? Blonde hair like spun silk swaying loose against her tanned shoulders, sky-blue eyes made more compelling because they were set off by the veil that showed just a hint of her full, red lips, a chin with a dimple that softened its stubborn set. Voluptuous, smiling, graceful, she’d danced for him. Bathed his sunburned body with cool, fresh water. Dipped her fingers ever so slowly into the cool, clear liquid then held them just over his lips so it slid drop by drop between his parched lips and down his throat. Now she beckoned to him with outstretched arms, temptation beyond anything he could resist.

  Tired. He was so tired. Back inside the tent now, he found the silk-draped sleeping couch, paused only for a moment before letting his unfamiliar Arab garb drop to the floor. He stretched out, naked, against cushions soft as goose down. Foreign sounding music, dissonant to his American ears, soothed him—yet it aroused him too, for it conjured pictures in his mind of dancers undulating to its haunting rhythm.

  Dancing—for him. The woman who’d been tending him sat on the floor beside his feet, gently massaging the bruised, blistered soles, his toes…his ankles. Her fingers moved in time with the music, making him aware of her female heat—her desires.

  His desire too. Rolling over, he started to lift her in his arms, only to wake up hard and sweating…and once again, alone.

  He blinked, disoriented for a moment until he recognized the bedroom of the nondescript apartment he’d rented when he first arrived in Cheyenne for outpatient therapy. “Closer to home,” the brass had told him when they’d tossed him out of Walter Reed three weeks ago and sent him here. Well, he’d seen precious little of Cheyenne so far, since he’d freaked out during his first visit to the VA hospital three blocks down from this apartment complex.