by Desiree Holt
Fallon sighed then opened the door wider. The two women had been friends since high school. Claire was the only one in Fallon’s vanilla circle who knew the other side of her life. The addictive side, which she had a feeling was about to get her in big trouble.
“Come on back to the den,” she said. “I’ll pour us each a glass of wine.”
“Is that an ‘uh-oh’ drink or a ‘yeehaw’ drink?”
“I’m not sure. Let me get our drinks. It’s a nice day today. Not too hot. We can sit out on the patio.”
However, when they were stretched out on padded loungers, sipping their wine, Fallon wasn’t sure where to start.
“So how was lunch?” Claire asked again. “This is what? The third time? Fourth? Are you past the ‘this is just business’ hurdle yet?”
Fallon ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “It is just business, Claire. I keep telling you that.”
“You also told me you immediately recognized him as a Dom. A strong one. I’d think that would appeal to you.”
A shiver skated down Fallon’s spine. The signals had been there from the beginning. From the moment they shook hands and she looked in his eyes. After all these years, she knew the signs instinctively. For a long time, ever since Brian, she’d avoided the lifestyle, but for Fallon it was almost like trying to stop eating. Or breathing. The past fourteen months had been miserable. Only the challenge of rebuilding her business had kept her sane.
“The best reason for me not to get involved with him,” she said. “The last really strong Dom I got involved with turned into a disaster, as you well know. I should have turned down the account.”
Claire pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, looking at Fallon over the rim. “Try selling that to someone else. I hear your tone of voice when you even mention his name.”
“You know exactly why I can’t do this.”
“Oh, horseshit.” Claire took a healthy swallow of wine. “Are you going to let that bastard Brian ruin your life forever? None of what happened was your fault.”
Fallon stared into her wineglass. “If I had been more respectful to him, or more accommodating…”
“Again, I say horseshit.” Claire sat up and swung her legs over the side of the lounger. “I don’t pretend to understand what draws you to the lifestyle, kiddo. I don’t judge you, either. Different strokes and all, you know? I have a feeling, though, just from the couple of times I’ve seen him that Cord Jamieson is a totally different animal from Brian Willoughby. They may have the lifestyle in common but I’ll bet they approach it differently.”
Fallon shrugged. “Maybe I just can’t take the chance.”
“I think it’s time you did. Brian went beyond dominant. I don’t presume to know everything, although I’ve done a lot of reading just so I can understand the lifestyle when we talk about it. I know a good, responsible Dom never, ever abuses his sub. Never takes her beyond her limits. Never inflicts harm.”
“Claire—” Fallon began.
“Listen to me. Brian was a sadistic son of a bitch who used his position as a Dom to inflict excessive punishment. It wasn’t you, kiddo, it was him. All him.” She peered at Fallon over her sunglasses again. “Are you hearing me?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“But not listening.” Claire finished the rest of her wine. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
She returned with the open bottle, topped off Fallon’s glass and refilled her own. “So…” she said, arranging herself on the lounger again. “About Tall, Dark and Much Too Dangerous. He whose name never passes your lips.”
“Cord Jamieson.” Fallon said the name deliberately. “There. See? No problem.”
“So tell me about lunch.”
“God, Claire.” She pushed her hair away from her face. “I’m so conflicted here! My brain tells me I should keep this strictly business. It’s turning into a very lucrative account for me.”
“Really?” One eyebrow arched. “If you’ll pardon me, your pussy and your nipples are telling you something else.”
Fallon’s cheeks heated. As close as the two women were, despite the many erotic things she’d experienced, it still embarrassed her slightly when her friend spoke so plainly. A Dom had once told her that was one of her most appealing qualities, her ability to still blush.
“He wants me to come out to Comanche Pass Ranch at five for a tour,” she blurted out. “And dinner on the grill.”
“Well, hell. If you don’t go, maybe I will.”
Fallon laughed. “You’d run from a Dom like him as if your pants were on fire. Believe me. After all these years, I recognize him for exactly what he is.”
Claire studied her. “So why are you running from him? Still scared? Fallon, you know you can’t turn your back on the lifestyle any more than you can stop breathing. You said he doesn’t give off negative vibes.”
Fallon stared out across the yard. “Maybe I just don’t trust my judgment anymore.”
Claire waited a heartbeat before commenting. “Again, Brian was an abusive person. He used the D/s lifestyle to cloak what he really was.”
Tears burned against Fallon’s eyelids. “He hurt me, Claire. A lot. But worse than that, he made me feel it was my fault.”
“So you’ll… what, just walk away from any relationship? From life?”
Now it was Fallon’s turn to hesitate. “I wish I could,” she said in a very low voice. “Every time I close my eyes, I… remember.”
“Maybe it’s time to make new memories, kiddo.”
“Oh, Claire, I just don’t know.” She took a swallow of wine.
“You’ve stayed away from any contact with the lifestyle for months,” Claire pointed out. “You can’t tell me it hasn’t bothered you. I see how edgy you are. You’ve been addicted to it for years. I don’t think quitting cold turkey was the best thing to do.”
“Not even for a good reason?”
Her friend sighed. “We are what we are. That’s just the plain truth. All I know is you haven’t been happy for a long time. It isn’t just the aftereffects of what happened with Brian, either.”
“That’s a good part of it.”
“One man. One lousy, stinking man. Don’t let him fuck up your life, Fallon. That way he really wins. Get back into what you love. You’ll be a lot more careful this time.” She laughed. “Besides, Mr. Tall, Dark and Much Too Dangerous may look like Brian but I didn’t get the same vibes from him the couple of times I ran into the two of you. The way he acts around you, it seems as if he’d give you the respect Brian never did.”
“I didn’t spot it in Brian, either,” Fallon pointed out.
Claire snorted. “I never liked him from day one, but you were so besotted you wouldn’t have listened to me.”
“I thought—”
“All the wrong things. I know you’ll be more cautious this time. I say go for it.” She smiled. “Fallon, this is what you want. This is your life. And Cord Jamieson does not give off bad vibes.”
“The thing is, Claire…” Fallon scraped her fingernail along the outside of her glass. “I really like this guy. I think I could like him even more. What if—”
“No ifs, remember?”
“Okay, okay.” Fallon sighed and looked at her watch. “In that case, I’ve got some work to do before I get ready to step into his lair.”
“I’ll get out of here so you can get to it.” Claire studied her with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Remember, I expect a full report.”
Chapter 2
Cord leaned against the railing of the front porch, watching the red SUV make its way along the dusty driveway to the ranch. He thought how appropriate the color was for Fallon’s vibrant personality. He’d been making bets with himself for the last two hours whether or not she’d show up. Every time his cell rang, he was sure it was Fallon calling to cancel.
But no, here she was. Before she even came to a stop, his cock hardened and an ache grabbed his balls.
It just
got worse when she stepped out of the vehicle. She was wearing jeans that encased her legs and ass snugly, as if they’d been tailor-made. Her nipples pushed at the soft fabric of a tank top, a cotton blouse open over it that she’d knotted just beneath her beasts. He noticed her feet were shod in boots that looked well used. He smiled slightly. She’d mentioned riding a lot at friends’ ranches.
Fallon stopped in the driveway. Her gaze swept over the house, taking in all the changes in the past few weeks. “You must be paying a king’s ransom to get so much done so quickly,” she remarked.
He laughed. “Maybe only enough for a prince. I just don’t want to waste time.” He jogged down the steps. “Leave everything except your camera. Lock your car and come on with me.”
She followed him around the house to the barn in the back. Again he swallowed a grin, watching the stupefaction on her face. The old barn was now restored and painted, with two steel buildings in partial stages of erection beyond it. In the corral, six horses nickered and played. In the near pasture, his seed herd of cattle lowed and munched hay.
She stared at him. “Am I in the right place?”
“Yes ma’am. You surely are. Get some pictures of the buildings then we’ll take a little ride. By the time we get back, the coals should be hot enough for me to throw the steaks on.”
He waited patiently, watching the fluid grace of her movements as she walked around, snapping shots with her small digital camera. Her jeans clung lovingly to one of the finest asses he’d ever seen and her hair shone like spun gold in the waning sunlight. He had to send a stern message to his cock, which was demanding freedom and aching for the wet heat of Fallon’s pussy.
Finally she walked back to him, smiling. She tucked the camera in a pocket of her jeans.
“I got some good shots. I think you’ll be pleased with the way I use them.”
“I have no doubt.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Nolan. Got those horses ready?”
“Coming right up,” came a shouted response.
A lean, slightly bowlegged man led two horses out of the barn, bridled and saddled.
“Sunshine ought to suit you just fine,” Cord said, boosting Fallon onto the buckskin horse. He looked at Nolan. “Mind the coals for me, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
As they rode out of the yard, Cord wondered if he’d ever get over the feeling of pride that riding his land gave him. He’d worked so many summers on other people’s ranches. Sold his soul to the city to earn money for his own slice of heaven. Now he had it. And if things worked out right, he’d have someone to share it with.
Don’t rush it. One thing at a time.
Fallon was stunned by the time they returned to the ranch. They’d ridden to the far side of the property, where Cord showed her the construction on the public portion, the quasi-dude ranch where people could come for the day, attend special events or hold parties. There was still some daylight left so men were still working. She hadn’t been kidding when she guessed he must be paying a fancy price to get things done so quickly.
The steaks were cooked to perfection, better than she’d had in a long time. When they finished eating, they picked up their plates to carry into the house. As she rinsed them to put in the dishwasher, she looked up at Cord. “So what’s for dessert?”
He dragged his index finger lightly down her cheek. “I’m hoping that’s you, darlin’.”
His husky voice sent shivers skating along her spine, had her pussy pulsating—hard.
She wet her lips. “Oh?”
He turned her to face him, cupping her cheeks in his warm palms. God, he smelled so nice—horseflesh and hay and citrus and male. She couldn’t stop herself from taking a deep breath to savor his scent.
His smile was definitely rooted in the devil. “I think you know exactly what I mean, Fallon. We’ve been avoiding the issue since the day we met. Face it: like attracts like, and you know it.”
Fallon’s knees were weak and she wasn’t sure she could stay on her feet. His touch alone was enough to melt her. The fact that he wasn’t dancing around the knowledge of what they were was even more shattering. Yes, it was exactly as she’d told Claire—Cord Jamieson was the ultimate Dom. He’d zeroed in on her at their first meeting, no mistake about it.
“So…” She couldn’t think. Had no ready, witty remarks.
“So.” He nodded just as he brought his mouth down on hers.
If she thought she felt weak before, now she was liquid, scorched by the heat of his kiss. Of his tongue tracing the seam of her lips before urging them open and sweeping inside. Of his thumbs caressing her cheekbones in a light yet very possessive manner.
Just like that, she wanted to drop to her knees before him, bow her head and say, “Thank you, Sir.”
Pull yourself together, Fallon! The last time you jumped into something with both feet, you nearly lost them.
At the moment, however, all she could do was hang on to his wrists as if they were an anchor and let him feed on her mouth. When he finally lifted his lips, she couldn’t catch her breath, only stare up at him.
“What do you see, girl?” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “You can trust me, I swear to you.” His laugh was low and deep, like his voice. “I can get you letters of reference.”
Fallon dropped her eyes to her hands, still clamped around his wrists. “You probably think I’m an idiot. Of course I caught the signs right away. It’s just that…”
“It’s just that someone did a real number on you. I get that.” He licked her lower lip, a feather light swipe of his tongue. “Tell me who the bastard was who made you afraid, girl. Tell me now.”
The command in his voice was strong but she shook her head. Brian wasn’t someone she wanted to discuss with Cord. It was over and done with. Now she wanted it far behind her. The disastrous way their relationship had ended still lingered. Since the breakup, she’d worked very hard to avoid him as much as possible. It was bad enough she’d probably have to face him at the kickoff party. She still hadn’t figured out how she was going to handle that tricky eventuality.
But god, she wanted this man in front of her. Wanted Cord to bend her to his will. To bring her right to the edge of pleasure/pain, to coax her into subspace. To help her know that, while she was there, he wouldn’t abuse the privilege.
“Let’s try this, Fallon. We’ll take things very slowly. If at any time you feel threatened by me, we’ll stop. Even though my cock’s been about to burst since the minute I met you, and every time I look at your sweet ass, I see it bare, bent over my knees ready for me to spank.”
She studied his face for a long time, looking for… what? Guarantees?
There are none. Go with it, Fallon, or you could be missing out on the best thing ever to come your way. You know you need this. Badly.
“All right.” She bowed her head. “I am yours.”
“Not yet.”
“Wh—”
“Not without your safeword. Never without that, girl.” He tilted her chin up, stroking her cheekbones again. “So let’s have it.”
She couldn’t stop staring at him. “Butterfly.”
“Okay, then.”
He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen, down a hallway to the master suite. The first thing she noticed was the coiled single-tail whip on the wall, hanging on a brass hook. She tensed, wondering if he planned to use it tonight. On her. An involuntary tremor raced over her skin.
“Not yet.” His voice was low and soothing, as if he’d read her mind.
She let out her breath as she looked around the rest of the room. Six weeks ago it had been an average-size bedroom with a barely adequate bathroom attached. Now, with walls knocked out and spaces enlarged, it was a huge room with a sweeping view of the corral. She could see the herd grazing in the near pasture. Beyond that, the low hills. This was the kind of landscape people thought about when someone mentioned Texas.
Cord stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Be
autiful, right? It’s one of the things that sold me on this place.”
“I’m amazed at everything you’ve accomplished in such a short time.”
He turned her to face him. “Forty’s right around the corner for me. I don’t really have time to waste to make the kind of life I want.”
She searched his gaze. “And what is it that you want?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Right now, I want you to take off your clothes. All of them. One piece at a time, girl.” Cord sat on the edge of the bed, and although light still shone through the windows, the last of the sun’s rays, he flicked on the bedside lamp. “Start now.”
Okay, so they were into the game now. This was her chance to back away if she wanted to, only that choice didn’t appeal to her. This was what she wanted. It had almost been a foregone conclusion when she’d agreed to meet him at the ranch today. She wasn’t a novice. She’d read the silent signals between them.
So get with it already before he loses patience.
Fallon wet her lips nervously while she moved to stand in front of him, toeing off her boots first. This wasn’t new territory for her. Other Doms had demanded the striptease, and she loved doing it for them. Her first Dom had actually coached her on it. The familiarity of the request eased her bubbling anxiety.
As she undid the knot of her blouse and shrugged the garment off her shoulders, she caught the burning, possessive look in Cord’s eyes. For a moment her hands froze. Then she took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
He’s not Brian. He’s not Brian. This will be good, and you know you need it.
Boy, that was the damn truth.
Next came the tank top. She hooked her fingers in the bottom edge, pulling it slowly upward and over her head, revealing her breasts in the satin-and-lace bra. Tossing the tank carelessly on top of her blouse, she leaned her head back then shook her hair, running her fingers through it. She really loved this part of the routine, often deliberately doing something wrong to entice a punishment.