by Reece Butler
“Which do you want, Lila? The barn, or the yard? It’s your choice.”
“That’s like asking which part you’re going to spank first, the left cheek or the right. Both will hurt the same!”
“I will always give you a choice, though you may not like either one.”
“Some choice!” she replied over her shoulder as she tramped across the yard.
She’d automatically complained, yet she was eager for what Jet threatened to do. Was it the spanking she wanted, or the undivided attention? Both. She wanted Jet to focus on her as a woman, to touch her with an edge of delicious heat. She wanted to run and be caught, to kick and scream—
She stopped. “We can’t use the barn. It will scare Sable and Tex.”
Jet came up beside her. “We can if you take your punishment quietly, like a good girl.”
She whipped around to face him. “What the hell makes you think I’m going to behave?”
His eyes flashed. She took a step back. Once again she’d exploded, speaking without thinking of the consequences. His nostrils flared like a stallion scenting a mare. One corner of his lip twitched.
“I am going to enjoy this,” he said with quiet intensity.
She took another step back, unsure of what she’d unleashed. His face hardened.
“Go up to your room,” he ordered, all trace of personality gone. “Strip and kneel on the floor at the end of the bed. Place your forehead on the mattress, and wait. Silently.”
Her pussy creamed in delicious fear and trepidation. His eye barely twitched but she caught the implied menace. She gulped, then ran into the house. She kicked off her boots and rushed through the kitchen, hoping Josh and Houston wouldn’t say anything. She made it to her bedroom safely and shut the door behind her. She leaned against it, heart thudding and chest heaving as if she’d run all the way from the road.
Oh. My. God. This was really happening! Jet was going to…
The thrill of the chase suddenly evaporated. If she let Jet and Houston spank her it automatically meant she’d agreed to their domination. Did she want to submit? Was she ready to kneel humbly before her Doms, passing on all her worries, trusting them to care for her?
She sank onto the bed, flopping on her back.
All her life she’d tried to be so tough and strong, doing things on her own. She not only hadn’t asked for help, she’d pushed away the men who tried to make her think she couldn’t do it herself. They called her bossy, or worse.
She wasn’t the problem. They just weren’t strong enough for her. She wanted men who would not let her bully them. Men who would stand up to her and prove they deserved to be in command.
Men like Jet and Houston.
She knew she got away with a lot compared to her brothers growing up, but if either father put his foot down, that was it. Neither had told her not to ride the new bull. She knew she shouldn’t, but no one had actually said the words. The bull tossed her then, miraculously, turned at the last minute instead of stomping on her. She’d been too injured to be taken behind the woodshed, but her fathers had spent a lot of time with her as she recovered. They lectured about her behavior, and their worry over her. She’d craved that attention, as it proved they cared about her, even though they’d stopped hugging her when she got boobs and hips. She’d decided they didn’t want a girl to run the ranch, they wanted a son.
That was why she’d ridden the bull, to prove she could do anything a boy could, and so was worthy of their love. When she’d finally told her mother that, her mom said her fathers were afraid of hurting her because she was female. They didn’t understand her, and had backed away. But they loved her very, very much.
Her recovery was frustrating because she couldn’t go far, or do much physically. Plus, she was grounded, not allowed outside the house. Aunt Marci came over to be with her, and taught her to cook and sew. She’d enjoyed it, so it was easy to keep her attention on track. Her fathers had been proud of her efforts. That was when they started giving her careful hugs again. Not often, and only when she was in a dress, or doing something domestic.
Thinking back, she didn’t believe it was intentional when they rewarded her with a hug when she did something girlish. When she did heavy ranch work, slogging through mud and freezing rain, she got a hearty slap on the back, as if she was one of the guys.
Jet and Houston knew she could do the ranch work, and had seen her domestic skills. Okay, she’d burned the muffins that one time, but nothing since. They also knew her body intimately, and had coaxed from her a passion she hadn’t known existed.
Now that she took the time to think, she remembered her mother explaining how, when a man desperately loved his woman and she went against his wishes, doing something that could have harmed her, his reaction was anger. He wasn’t really angry at the woman, he was angry at himself for not protecting her well enough. His terror at the thought of losing her made him need to prove he still had the power to protect her. He got past his anger by punishing the person who had terrified him.
Her mother said confident, dominant men punished out of love, and never did it when angry. They did not want their woman in danger, or harmed. They hated that terrified, out-of-control feeling, worried they’d lose her. Therefore they used physical discipline to ensure the woman they loved never scared them that way again.
Even though she knew she’d never been in danger, Lila’s actions had scared Jet and Houston. They were furious with her. And that meant they cared about her, a lot. Otherwise they wouldn’t bother punishing her, especially through a spanking.
A bare bottom, over-the-knee, deliciously arousing spanking!
A thrum of need coursed through her. A need for their hands on her body, and for the personal attention they would give her in the process. Jet’s look, the one that made her stomach flip, was a silent demand for her submission. That demand meant he believed her worthy of being under his control. Him wanting her to submit to him did not mean she was weak. It meant he believed she was strong enough to be worthy of his attention.
“And he’ll be here any minute to give me some of that attention.”
She stood to shove her jeans off. Underneath were sensible white cotton panties. That would not do. She threw off her shirt and the utilitarian white support bra. She scrabbled through her top drawer, the one that now held her pretty things. She’d moved them from the bottom drawer after discovering Jet and Houston made her feel hot and sexy. She wanted to look that way for them.
It was more than sex that made her care for them. It was the look in Jet’s eyes when he opened them first thing in the morning and saw her. It was the soft smile as he cradled the kittens in the barn when he thought no one saw, and a hundred other things. Houston, scars and all, was a bundle of contradictions. She’d discovered he had a college degree in engineering, yet he sometimes talked like a high school dropout. He’d been born wealthy, trained in black-tie manners, yet was happy covered in grease, digging into the innards of an engine.
Both were demanding men. She was no different. Her life with them was a battle. She would lose a few skirmishes in order to win in the end.
She ran her hands through the ultra-feminine silk and lace. Red was too obvious. White was too virginal. Orange? Yes! The color matched the wet fire in her pussy and the equally hot burn of her nipples. She stepped into the orange thong and adjusted it just so. The bra barely covered her areolae, leaving lots of breast to almost spill out. It was tight, so she put it on the last set of hooks. She’d rarely worn it, worried she might have a dress malfunction. She hoped that happened today.
If Jet was going to spank her, she was going to get him hot and hard. It was only fair. If her butt was going to be sore, then his cock should be as well. And if all went well, he would not be able to leave her without giving her at least one orgasm. Was it just the baby hormones that made her so wild for sex? Or was it because she’d gone without for so many years? The condom box was in the bathroom. She went to get it, but her footsteps slowed
.
If she was already pregnant, and they were all safe medically, she didn’t need condoms. Did that mean she’d lose the bet with TJ? It would be worth it to feel their cocks slide into her and erupt.
“Oh, God, he’d better make sure I come!”
If not, there was always Bob. Unless one of them had hidden her toys? She had no time to check. She pulled everything off the bed but the bottom sheet, then knelt as ordered on the floor at the foot. Her legs were long enough that she had no problem leaning forward and stretching out. He’d said her forehead was to be on the mattress. He’d said nothing about the rest of her body. She would kneel comfortably and rest her whole torso on the bed.
The carpet was hard on her knees so she got a thick towel from the bathroom. Should she take her hair out of her braid? Yes, it would be far sexier. She settled in again, knees apart, ass aimed right at the door.
“Let’s see how long Mr. Jet Quartermain can hold back when he sees this!”
* * * *
Josh Gibson put the call through using the phone hanging on the wall of the Circle C’s kitchen. He talked to a woman named Stacy, who promised to put Mr. Sheldon Simpson on the line.
“I’ll listen to make sure he’s your father,” he said to Houston. “Once I know things are fine, I’ll leave. You okay with that?” Houston nodded. Josh pushed the button for speakerphone. “Mister Simpson? This is Sheriff Josh Gibson of Climax, Montana. I have you on speaker phone. Your son is with me.”
“Is that you, Rabbit?”
Houston collapsed into the chair Josh had put beside the phone. He covered his eyes with his hand. “God, Dad, I can’t remember the last time you called me that.”
“There’s a lot of things I haven’t done in far too long,” replied Simpson gruffly. “My secretary said you’ve been arrested? I can’t see you doing anything to harm someone, unless they deserved it. Is this a trumped up charge?”
“You got it, Dad. Mother’s accusing me of stealing my car back when I joined the army.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, will that woman never stop?”
“Not until she has control of your grandchild.”
Simpson choked. “My grandchild?”
“It’s complicated, Dad. I’m denying it’s mine to keep Mother from trying to gain custody.”
Simpson gave a long sigh. “Just a second, son.” There was the click of a button. “Stacy, hold all my calls. Even the President can wait. I’m talking to my son.” Another click. “Okay, start at the beginning.”
“Just a minute, Mr. Simpson,” interrupted Josh. “I’m stepping outside now.”
Josh turned off the speakerphone and handed Houston the receiver. His eyes were red, his jaw tight. He nodded his thanks. Josh went outside, leaving the man to do what he needed to do. He found Jet sitting on the step. He dropped down beside him.
“I saw Lila rush past,” he said. “You change your mind about that spanking?”
Jet shook his head. “Nope. Lila figured she’d make enough noise to disturb the horses, so I sent her upstairs. I’m making her wait.”
Josh chuckled. “That should build up the anticipation and keep her on edge.”
“If she doesn’t fall asleep. She’s been doing that a lot.”
Jet looked…what was the word his grandma used? Smitten. Yes, Jet looked smitten with Lila. Houston did as well. They were good men, and good for his crazy cousin. She had a heart of gold and was as stubborn as a constipated mule.
They stared at the yard, each lost in his thoughts. Josh had paperwork to do. He’d brought his briefcase with him that morning, and hadn’t taken it out of the truck. He thought about the man inside, the one beside him, and his younger cousin, who he hoped had finally found the discipline and friendship she needed so badly. She’d not had enough of the first, and had lost the second when Danny died and TJ joined the army. Jet’s stoic determination and Houston’s upbeat attitude would suit her perfectly.
“Got a suggestion,” said Josh. “I’ve got a briefcase of paperwork in the truck. I can do it in the barn office. I won’t be disturbed there. If I’m done before you and Houston finish with Lila, I’ll take a nap.”
“You serious?”
“You two take care of my cousin, then I’ll take Houston in.”
Jet nodded. “Appreciate that. It’s best if she gets this attention from both of us.”
Josh knew that, but he didn’t think Jet would. “You’ve got some experience.”
“Couple years, but only as a Top, not a Dom. I did the job, then walked away. It’s different with Lila.”
“Different good or bad?”
“What do you think?” said Jet. He grimaced, though his eyes were bright.
Josh slapped him on the back, then stood up. “You’re good men. We could use you.”
He walked away before Jet could answer. He’d let him stew about it. Like the long line of sheriffs before him, Josh took care of his town. He wanted Jet and Houston to be part of it. He’d done what he could, the rest was up to them.
He hated paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. He figured he had two hours’ worth. He stopped at his truck to grab his briefcase. He decided to take a pair of earplugs as well. It was a warm spring day. If Jet left the bedroom windows open, he’d rather not hear.
He wished he had a fine woman waiting for him at home. But thinking about the joys of paddling his own woman’s ass was not going to help him put together a schedule for the next three months.
“You coming with me, Rascal?”
The dog looked toward the house, then followed Josh into the barn. His own dog was about the only company he had at home, other than his brother. Maybe Ty could follow up on some of those Internet dating sites. He was thirty-four, and Ty a year younger. It was past time they found a wife of their own. He’d written off the locals long ago. They’d made it plain they didn’t want to marry a man who was a sheriff as well as a rancher.
As for strangers, who would want a pair of strong-minded bachelors who put in long hours and had gone without feminine companionship for too many years?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The thought of laying his woman across his knee and paddling her ass had Jet squirming on the porch as he waited for Houston to finish his call. Lila had a first-class butt, high and so full he had to separate her cheeks to get at her asshole. Maybe they’d try that again after spanking her. By then more than her ass would be hot.
Josh would be gone for a few hours, and Rascal would send up a warning bark if they got a visitor. He stood up as Houston came out. Whatever had been said, had hit him hard.
“Why didn’t you just walk through and up the stairs?” mumbled Houston.
He stared at the floorboards, muscles stiff. He’d been moving far easier thanks to physio and whatever Lance MacDougal did to him. The strange-smelling ointment had helped his scars fade.
“You were talking with your father for the first time in years,” said Jet. “Figured you’d want privacy.”
“After what we’ve been through together, I don’t have any secrets from you.”
Jet shuffled his feet. He caught himself twitching his fingers and stopped it before Houston noticed.
“And so?” he asked, verbally prodding Houston.
“Dad’s calling Mother’s bluff. He says she won’t be a problem anymore.”
Jet waited, but Houston was silent. The man needed to talk. So did Jet, but he wasn’t ready to let his secret out. Not until he knew whether he wanted to meet the Switzers or not.
“Why?”
Houston turned toward the mountains, his fists clenched, tight at his sides.
“I told you Sonia got a letter signed by our father saying he wouldn’t go with her to the father-daughter banquet, or her graduation ceremony, unless she lost twenty pounds.”
Jet nodded. “You said it was the final straw, that she killed herself the next day.”
Houston turned red-rimmed, hollow eyes at him.
“Turns out my f
ucking bitch of a mother wrote the note and signed my father’s signature to it. My little sister would still be alive if it wasn’t for that!”
“Of all the…!”
Jet clamped his lips shut before he swore. He’d vowed never to behave like the people who’d adopted him, or the worst of the foster families. He didn’t ask how a mother could do something like that to her own child. He knew first-hand that some people didn’t deserve to be responsible for any living thing, even a potted plant.
“Dad found out after I joined the army,” continued Houston. “He cut Mother off, except for a monthly allowance. Since then, most of her money’s come from her father. Dad warned her if she ever contacted me or did something to threaten me, he’d divorce her. That stopped her cold, until now.”
“Because she has her father’s money?”
Houston shrugged.
“I don’t know why Mother risked my dad finding out. Money means little unless she has the social prestige to lord it over others. As Mrs. Sheldon Simpson she is a Somebody, receiving invitations to all the right parties. If they divorced, Dad would still get the invitations, but Mother would not. Dad said her father has dementia and no longer controls anything. She’s been allowed to receive her father’s basic stipend, but it’s not enough for her lavish lifestyle. Dad says she’ll either toe his line or she’ll lose everything important to her.”
That meant Houston could now marry Lila and claim their child. Since he’d patched things up with his father, the old man would likely insist on giving him money. And then there was all those oil wells. Simpson would likely set up a trust fund for the baby as well. Lila would be much better off with Houston. Jet had never planned to have a wife or children, so why did it hurt so much?
“I guess you get to marry Lila. Congratulations.”
Houston turned on him, eyes wide. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not going to marry her!”
“Why not? Lila’s a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful woman.”