Ace Gone Wild

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Ace Gone Wild Page 2

by Cooper McKenzie


  Too bad he had a ranch to run, and Logan had a morning appointment with a potential new client for his landscaping business before they headed into town to sign up for the weekend’s rodeo. So, instead of sending Logan to invite the woman home with them, Carter handed him one of the beers sitting on the table between them.

  “Drink up. We need to leave.”

  “Now?” Logan asked even as he tipped the bottle up and swallowed half the contents before lowering it again.

  “I owe you an orgasm tonight. Then we need to talk about that.” He tilted his head toward the woman at the bar who now had a shot of whiskey and two beers sitting in front of her. Thankfully, Hannah, the Tavern’s owner and bartender, was nearby, watching the woman named Kinsey closely.

  “She’s interesting, that’s for sure,” Logan said softly. “She sure shocked the hell out of me.”

  “She’s not as bold as she seems,” Drake responded as he took a drink of his own beer. He began to wonder how to find out more about the woman without starting rumors, giving away his intentions, or hurting his boy’s feelings.

  By the time the two men walked out into the soft summer night five minutes later, the woman had tossed back her shot and downed one of the beers as she and Hannah talked quietly. As he closed the door, Drake watched through the window as Hannah took the second beer away, replacing it with a bottle of some kind of orange sports drink. At the same time, the woman seemed to be wiping away tears.

  Which only intrigued him more. Who was this bold, brash, yet damaged Kinsey and what was she doing in Loving?

  * * * *

  Kinsey opened her eyes for a half second then closed them again as quick as she could. The room was too bright. Frowning, she opened them just a slit. This was not room 205 of the Loving Motel where she had been staying for the last week as she built the foundation of her new life.

  The walls of this room were white-painted wood panel but there was so much color and pattern in the room in the forms of hanging quilts and scarves and curtains that Kinsey decided she must have been kidnapped by gypsies. She just didn’t remember meeting anyone who fit that description in town, or at the Tavern where she had gone and overindulged by a six-pack or more.

  She even remembered meeting a couple of hot, hot, hot cowboys who, like every other man she had met in the past six months, were not interested in her. She had said something outrageous but instead of taking her up on her offer, the leader of the duo had just looked at her. She had felt his pulsating dominant energy as it wrapped around her, but before she could fall to her knees and beg for help, she had turned and walked away. She remembered returning to the bar and ordering a shot and two beers and that’s where her recollection ended.

  Closing her eyes to lock away her sad tears, Kinsey pushed herself into a sitting position. Though she felt stiff, soggy, and uncoordinated, there was no real pain. Not in her head, or anywhere else that mattered. So, she had not been foolish enough to bring home a consolation prize after getting the cold shoulder from the cowboys. She thought she remembered talking to the bartender as she downed a couple more drinks, then…nothing.

  Though she could remember, that still didn’t explain where she was, or how she got here.

  “Hold out your finger,” a soft female voice said.

  Kinsey opened her eyes and slowly raised them toward the voice. It was the bartender, Hannah. She was holding out a small bottle.

  “Why?” Kinsey asked even as she lifted her right hand from her lap and held out her index finger.

  “This will help,” Hannah said, holding the bottle up until several drops landed on the tip of her finger. “Rub your fingers together then rub the oil on your temples, and along the back of your jaw. It will help.”

  “What is it?” Kinsey asked even as she did as instructed. She was so submissive even the short, round, bartender could boss her around and she would take it without argument.

  “Peppermint oil,” Hannah said as she turned and walked away.

  Kinsey sniffed her fingers, smiling as the minty scent filled her lungs. It smelled good, like Christmas. The places where she had rubbed the oil were developing a cool, tingly feeling that seemed to be chasing the sluggishness out of her body. “Wow,” she murmured to herself as she took a better look around.

  “So, where are we?” Kinsey slowly pushed to her feet and found she felt much better than she should.

  “My place behind the Tavern. The bathroom is through there.” Hannah pointed across the room to the only interior door in sight.

  “Thanks,” Kinsey said, suddenly very aware that she had drunk too much last night.

  “There are clean towels on the counter if you want to take a shower,” Hannah called after her.

  After answering nature’s most urgent call, Kinsey washed her face and hands then rinsed the bad night before out of her mouth. Though she had lived in dorms and even showered in open bay showers with other women during her time in the service, Kinsey did not want to put her hostess out any more than she already had. After straightening her clothes and finger combing her hair into a braid down her back, she dug a hairband out of her pocket and secured the thick rope of hair.

  Feeling a little less like a piece of street scum, she emerged and found Hannah sitting at a small table across the room. Then her eyes went to the bright red numbers glowing on the stove.

  “Oh, shit, is that the time?” Kinsey asked as she looked for her shoes, but they were nowhere to be found.

  “Yes. Do you want some coffee? Breakfast? Lunch?”

  Though the woman went way above and beyond the call of bartender in bringing her home and letting her sleep it off, Kinsey had to leave in the next two minutes. “No, thanks. I’m sorry. I hate to be rude, but I have an appointment at my new home in ten, no nine minutes. Do you know where my shoes and keys went?”

  “Keys are in the purple basket by the door along with your phone and everything else you had on you last night. Shoes on the floor by the door. You’ll have to come back so we can talk some more. Maybe for dinner tonight, okay? I’ll invite Kyra and Sasha to join us.”

  That offer stopped Kinsey in her tracks. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at the woman. “You want me to come back for dinner? You’re not mad because I was too drunk to leave?”

  Hannah smiled as she shook her head. “No way. Last night you joined a very special group of women, and I think you should get to know the rest of us. So be back here at six o’clock.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll see you later,” Kinsey said as she stuffed her belongings back into her pockets, keeping her car keys in one hand. “And thanks.”

  She was out the door before Hannah could reply. Once outside, she found herself staring at the back of the two-story Tavern building. She found a walkway around to a driveway that led to the front parking lot. Her bright red Volkswagen Bug looked lonely in the otherwise empty parking lot.

  As she quick-marched to the driver’s door, she hit the button to unlock the doors then hit the one to start the engine. By the time she snapped her seatbelt into place, the car was ready to roll.

  Patting the dashboard, she put the car into gear and pulled out of her parking space. “Okay, baby, let’s see if you really can go as fast as they say you can.”

  She left the lot and turned away from town. The farm she had paid cash for using her savings and the inheritance from her parents’ death was far enough out of town that she could be alone when she wanted, but close enough that she wouldn’t have to plan a dozen errands for every single trip into town.

  Glancing at the dashboard clock, she swore as she pressed the accelerator a little closer to the floor. The landscaper was supposed to be arriving in two minutes. She needed his help to take the eyesore of a yard and turn it into something that, well, didn’t look like animals crapped all over it, even if that was what had happened for the past who knows how many years. Hopefully, he would also be willing and able to help her build her dream.

  * * * *

 
Logan walked around the house, mentally making a list of everything that needed to be done to the house as well as the yard. There was a helluva a lot more work than just planting some flowers in the front yard. The house had been empty since Seth Masterson had died more than a year ago. After Seth died, his brother, on the run from the law, had moved in and decided he wanted to continue holding Kyra as his slave, much as his brother had done. Kyra had gotten away and run straight into the arms of Carter and Finn, the men who had proudly brought her to last night’s BDSM poker game.

  Thinking of Kyra brought to mind the woman who had grabbed his ass and then propositioned Drake. She had been a looker, though there was something about her that made him want to give her a long cuddle.

  “So where are they?” Drake asked as he came around the front of the house and approached the truck.

  After the two men had sorted the calves in the early morning, they had made a run to town for groceries, intending to stop for Logan’s meeting on their way home. It was supposed to be a quick discussion about what the new owner wanted done, so Logan could get to work drawing up ideas and a rough estimate.

  Only when they had arrived ten minutes earlier for the appointment, no one had been home.

  Logan glanced at his watch. “It’s only now ten o’clock. Can you be patient for a few more minutes?”

  Drake shifted and a hand drifted to the bulge pushing at zipper. “Maybe if I had something to keep me busy,” he said with an evil smirk.

  “Oh, yeah, and how do we explain our fucking in their front yard to the new owners? Especially if you want find out if they’re interested in leasing out the land.”

  Though Logan would happily give his Master anything the man wanted, he drew the line when it interfered with business.

  Before Drake could reply with more than a lift of one eyebrow, squealing tires up on the highway drew both men’s attention. They both turned and watched as a little red car slid off the highway and raced toward them, bouncing down the rough dirt driveway. Dust flew up around the car, and he jumped around to the side of the truck where Drake was standing when it looked like the little car wasn’t going to stop in time.

  It did, barely, leaving about ten inches between the front of the little car and the back bumper of his truck. Dust still swirled in the air when the driver’s door opened.

  “Are you all right? I’m sorry I’m late, I—” the driver rattled on before turning to see Drake and Logan looking at her, their mouths open in shock. “Oh shit.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Drake said, sounding disappointed and yet not at all surprised, “that you are the farm’s new owner.”

  The woman nodded, and took a deep breath. “Kinsey Smith, new owner. You are?”

  “I’m Drake Fuller, and he’s Logan Williams.”

  Logan watched and the woman digested the information then turned her full attention to him. “So, Mr. Williams, I take it you’ve had a chance to look around already?”

  Logan nodded. “I hope you’re not thinking of just planting a few roses and calling it a day.”

  “No, not roses. They make my nose run. I want to plant herbs. Lots and lots of herbs. As many kinds as I can grow in this climate organically.” She turned to look at the few acres that lay between the house and the road. Her expression said she saw something in the land they could not even fathom.

  “What the hell are you going to do with herbs?” Drake asked.

  Logan watched as she turned to face them. “I’m going to sell them, Mr. Fuller. I’m planning to grow them and dry them and package them and sell them.”

  Logan looked at Drake. His man was frowning as he turned over the woman’s words in his mind. Since their spice cabinet included salt, pepper, red pepper, and the rub they used on meats when they grilled, he, at least, had no clue what this woman was talking about.

  “You’re in the middle of Kansas. Where do you expect to sell all the herbs you grow?” Drake pointed out, none too diplomatically.

  Apparently Kinsey was ready for the challenge. “Ever heard of the Internet? There are people all over the world wanting to buy organic herbs and spices, and will pay dearly for them.”

  The two men exchanged a look of disbelief before turning their attention back to the fireball and her dreams.

  “So, what do you need from me?” Logan finally asked.

  “Not only do I want to reestablish some sort of yard immediately around the house, I’m going to need help plowing the field, establish the beds and planting. I’m also hoping you might know someone who can help me clean up the house, barn and outbuildings. Painters, plumber, carpenter, and an electrician to start. Sasha said you could recommend some people.”

  “But that’s not all you need, is it, sugar britches?” Drake asked from behind her, his voice dropping to the Dom-in-charge range.

  Kinsey turned to him, looking confused as Drake stepped around the truck toward her. When he got to the front bumper of her car, she began to back up. She took three steps before a large body stopped her. Two more steps and Drake was right in front of her, cutting off any avenue of escape.

  The men had talked until well after midnight, and agreed that they had both felt something for the brazen woman who had thought of taking them both on. They also agreed that if they found her again, and if she could accept their terms, limits, and rules, they would invite her into their bed.

  “Wha, what do you mean?” she asked, lifting her chin in a show of bravado.

  “You need a man in your bed. Or better yet two,” Drake said as he reached out, slid a hand behind her neck, and pulled her close and covered her lips with his own.

  Chapter Three

  The strong arm that slid around her back did not phase her, much, but the hand fisted in her hair sent Kinsey reeling. Though she understood it was what her psychiatrist had explained was a PTSD-related flashback it felt as if she wasn’t kissing a total stranger.

  She was back in Kabul, kissing Master for the last time before getting on an airplane and returning to the United States. He had taken several days of leave time to make sure she made it to Kabul and onto the plane safely. Then he returned to the base where they had been stationed as medical helicopter pilots. The plan was for him to join her back to the States the next month.

  Only he hadn’t. Instead, a week before he was to arrive, a chaplain, and an Air Force Major knocked on her door instead.

  When the man slipped his tongue between her lips, the taste of cinnamon gum and hard-working man brought her back to the here and now. Yes, this man had grabbed her hair just like Nelson had, and yes, his lips moved over hers the same dominating, loving, unforgettable way. But Drake Fuller was not her Nelson. He was not her Master who, at one time, had kept her grounded as he guided her through every decision she made during a day.

  Working to keep from panicking at the comfort and joy she found in the embrace, Kinsey reached between them and rubbed her hand over the bulge distorting the front of his jeans. Without thinking of anything except escape, she used a couple of dirty fighting techniques she had learned in Afghanistan. Softening her body against his, she stroked down the erection until her palm cupped his balls.

  Before she could tighten her hold on the tender bits of flesh, a hard hand wrapped around her wrist, pulled her hand away, and forced it behind her back. Jerking her head back, she narrowed her gaze as she looked into eyes so blue they reminded her of a winter sky over the Texas base where she had been stationed just before her discharge.

  “Hurting me will get you a spanking here and now instead of sometime in the future once we know one another a little better,” Drake said.

  His assumption made her eyes widen even as her pussy creamed with anticipation. “And what makes you think we’re ever going to get to know one another better?”

  He smiled and looked over her shoulder. “What do you think, boy? Would you like to get to know this spitfire better? Should we see about making her our girl?”

  She did not have to see the ma
n’s face. She heard the hunger in his voice as he said, “Yes, Master, I think I would like that. But of course, we’ll have to see if there’s any chemistry before we take things too far.”

  Before Kinsey could screech in outrage at these two men making life-changing decisions for her, she gasped as Drake her spun her around and shoved her at the man standing behind her. The man he had called boy.

  Looking up, up, up at the brown-haired hottie, she finally met a pair of gentle brown eyes. He was even taller than blue eyes, but instead of holding her with power and physical strength, he held her with a gentleness that, like last night, made her want to curl up in his lap and cuddle. “You don’t look like a boy to me.”

  His lips twitched in a smirk. “That’s because I’m not your boy. I belong to Drake and only Drake.”

  “Okay. What’s your name? Other than boy, I mean.”

  He lifted his head as if checking with Drake before returning his attention to her. “You can call me Sir,” he murmured as his head dropped forward and he kissed her.

  His kiss, though not as power-filled as Drake’s, seemed to do more damage. He kissed the way he hugged, gentle, sweet, but in a manner that made her feel like she was a thing to be cherished. Her knees gave way as his tongue teased her lips. She was in no danger of falling. Not with Drake pressed so close in behind her his erection pressed into the valley of her ass.

  Her lips parted on a sigh, silently begging the big man in front of her to enter and explore. He took the invitation readily, even as hands began to explore her body. Her mind was drifting unfocused, feeling much like she had when Master had put her in subspace. A hand between her legs, pressing hard against her slit brought her back into herself enough to know that she needed to get away from these two before she knelt, and begged for their attention, no matter the cost.

 

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