Ace Gone Wild

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Ace Gone Wild Page 3

by Cooper McKenzie


  Bending both arms, she quickly thrust her elbows back into Drake’s sides then brought her knee up between Logan’s legs. She did not do as much damage as she wanted, but at least he loosened his hold enough for her to scramble to freedom. She ran the few feet to her car, hopped in, and did not stop running until she squealed tires pulling back out onto the highway.

  * * * *

  Logan cupped both hands over his groin as he fought to stay on his feet. He blinked fast to hold in the tears, swallowed hard to keep from howling with pain, and waited for Drake to say something. His Master always had something to say about everything, and he was sure this would be no different.

  “Well, that was interesting turn of events,” Drake finally said.

  “How was that interesting? She tried to push my balls into my stomach and ran away because you kissed her,” Logan said, not caring that his tone was more than a little whiney.

  It took a few minutes before the pain in his groin eased enough for him to straighten. Once he was upright again, he took the bottle of water Drake handed him and drank deeply. Then he stood and waited for Drake to finish ruminating on the events of the previous five minutes and let him in on the interesting turn of events.

  “She wanted both of us but something spooked her. If I had to guess something we did brought up a memory,” Drake finally said.

  “Of something? Or someone?” Logan asked as they climbed into the truck.

  “We’ll have to ask the lady the next time we see her. For now you need to put together a plan for her front yard and this herb garden she wants.”

  Logan started the engine but paused before putting the truck into gear. He looked across the truck’s cab, and asked the question that had been burning in his mind since the night before. “Do you think we can get her to join us?”

  Drake looked at him and smiled the smile that weakened his knees every time he saw it. This time was no different. That curve of his lips that told him Master had a plan.

  “I have no doubt that we can get her to join us, to love us, to obey us. And, when she does, you will be topping her instead of trying to top me like you’ve been doing lately. But no matter what happens, you and I are together forever. Do you understand?”

  Logan smiled as an unexpected relief surged through his bloodstream. “Yes, Master. I understand. After we unload the groceries, we need to run out to the fairgrounds and sign up for the rodeo.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Then, after the chores are done, we’ll be visiting the back of the barn to take care of the little matter that did not get solved last night.”

  Taking in a quick breath as his cock surged to attention once more, Logan put the Truck in gear. He wasn’t sure which excited him more, riding in the town’s rodeo, spending the evening with Master, or the idea of topping the spitfire.

  * * * *

  Once out of sight of the farmhouse, Kinsey forced herself to take slow, deep breaths to calm down. If her foot pushed the accelerator to the floor and she was doing nearly double the speed limit, at least she was safe from those two men who made her even crazier than she already was without even trying.

  It was difficult, but by the time she arrived back in what there was of downtown Loving, she was almost breathing normally once again. She drove straight to the motel, thankful she had rented a room on the backside of the building so her car would not be seen from the street. After parking, she hurried into her room, feeling exposed and under attack. The fact that it was her own mind and body causing the chaos only added to the distress she was trying to fight.

  Entering her room, she left a trail of discarded clothes as she headed for the shower. A hot shower seemed to be the only way she could fight back against the memories, the heartache, the need. She was just thankful the hotel did not charge for the water or she would be broke long before her house was ready for occupancy. She was taking two, or three, or more, showers a day trying to keep her past at bay.

  She stood with her back to the water that flowed from the adjustable head in a sharp spray that beat against her skin, feeling much like Master’s favorite flogger. The one he used to massage her back after a long day flying. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift, surprised that instead of seeing Master’s face in her thoughts, she saw Drake’s.

  It was obvious that he and his boy were a committed couple. So why the hell were they kissing her? And making her the middle in a Kinsey sandwich? Especially after the dominant one had shut her down last night when she offered to take them both on?

  None of it made any sense. Then she had to admit her thinking wasn’t too clear. Maybe she should check in with the local counselor her psychologist had recommended before her release from the hospital.

  First, though, she needed to find another landscaper. Also a paint contractor, plumber, electrician, and whoever else she needed so she could get the house habitable in the next thirty days. Maybe Sasha, her realtor, or Hannah could help.

  By the time she turned the water off, Kinsey had developed a game plan for the rest of the day. “One minute at a time. One hour at a time. One day at a time,” she reminded herself, another of the catchphrases her psychologist had drilled into her brain.

  Climbing from the shower, she dried off then pulled on the fluffy terrycloth robe she had bought the day after she resigned her Air Force commission. It was big and bulky, which made it a bitch to pack, but the navy blue robe was the most comforting piece of clothing she ever owned, and after years of living up to others’ standards and ideals, Kinsey had vowed that from now on she would be comfortable, in her clothes, in her life, in her relationships. Blue jeans, T-shirts, and mid-heel cowboy boots would be her new uniform and sunshine, fresh air, and dirt would be her new best friends.

  Maybe in a year, or five, she would open herself up to what she once had with Nelson. A relationship with a man who would take her under command, keep her under control, and out of danger, and love her forever.

  Before she could retrieve her computer tablet and curl up on the queen-size bed to spend the rest of the day reading and napping, a light, rapid tap sounded on the door. She felt safe it wasn’t Drake and his boy, Logan.

  With a sigh, Kinsey detoured to the door. Opening it, she blinked and glanced down to make sure her robe appropriately covered her.

  “Oh, good, you’re here and awake. Hannah thought maybe you’d be napping or something,” Sasha Loving, the do-all, know-all, be-all woman of Loving, stepped forward, forcing Kinsey to back up and let her in. Not only was Sasha the mayor and emergency dispatcher, she was also Kinsey’s real estate agent, and apparently the town’s welcome wagon hostess.

  “Yes, I was just about to lie down,” Kinsey said even as she closed the door and turned to lean against it.

  “Nonsense,” Sasha said, looking around the small room with interest. “Get dressed. You’re coming to help me down at the fairgrounds this afternoon. It’s a great way to meet everyone, and we can watch the cute cowboys sashay their tight butts around in even tighter blue jeans. Afterwards, I’ll treat you to dinner at the Tavern.”

  Kinsey studied the woman who she had already determined had the brass balls of a three-star general and the organized go-gettedness of a Chief Master Sergeant. The woman had to be sixty if she was a day with pure white hair she wore in what could only be described as a military flattop that looked right on her petite form. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with life.

  Kinsey decided she was one of those five foot two, one hundred pounds soaking wet types who never worried about what they ate, and burned any extra calories before they had a chance to settle anywhere on her body. She wore black jeans and black cowboy boots with a bright red T-shirt with white lettering. Kinsey bit her lip to keep from laughing after reading the words, “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

  Knowing she did need to meet her neighbors since she was going to be living here, Kinsey nodded. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed and do something with my hair.”

  “Don’t dress up. It will
be dusty at the fairgrounds. Jeans and a T-shirt will be fine. The racier the better,” Sasha said with a wink. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kinsey said as she came to attention and threw the woman a salute. That action earned her a giggle as Sasha stepped out the door and pulled it closed behind her.

  Chapter Four

  Drake and Logan found the registration table in the main building of the fairgrounds where it was every year. They got in line and talked to the other men signing up for the rodeo. Nearly every one of them had something to say about the sassy bit of woman Sasha had working with her at the volunteer table. Even some of the older men who would be judging, running gates, and timers commented that they would have enjoyed their time in the service more if she had been flying them around.

  “You don’t suppose?” Logan asked.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me a bit,” Drake replied as they got in line behind several others locals who were signing up to show off their cowboying skills.

  Looking around, he found her standing and talking to Sasha. He read her olive green T-shirt shirt, and then read it again before busting out laughing. Nudging Logan he angled his head to wear she was standing.

  “I make olive drab look sexy,” Logan read. “She certainly does.”

  When they reached the table, Kinsey sashayed over with bottles of water for the two men doing the paperwork. She looked at the men waiting to register, then at the events and frowned. “Are women allowed to compete?”

  “Women do barrel racing,” Joe Harwell said. With his big bushy white mustache, long white hair combed back from his head, and plaid shirt, he personified the image of “Old Cowboy.”

  Drake watched as Kinsey pulled a face and shook her head as she reached for one of the clipboards. “Sounds like something for sissies.”

  Drake and Logan stepped up to the table. He was close enough to see the clipboard she chose was for the bareback bronc riding. An event no one in their right mind would enter and only a handful of crazies would attempt.

  “Rowdy Jackson sounds like he’d give a good ride,” Kinsey said, picking up a pen to sign up.

  “Oh, hell, no,” Drake heard himself growl. He was around the table in a second with Logan was a half-step behind.

  Wrapping a hand around the arm holding the pen, he pulled it away from the paper then plucked the pen from her hand before she could write anything. The thinness of her arm shocked him until he really looked at her and realized she was downright skinny all over. Too skinny.

  When he took the clipboard and laid it on the table as well, she jerked from his hold then whirled to face him. Slapping her hands on her hips, she glared up at him, those pretty gray-green eyes once again narrowed in his direction.

  “Why the hell not?” she asked defiantly. “It’s not like you give a shit what happens to me. If I want to try something new, why shouldn’t I?”

  Drake was clenching his teeth so tight his jaw started to ache. The look he gave her shut her up, at least for the moment. Instead of answering her questions, he slid his hand down her arm, and wove his fingers with hers. Still not speaking, he turned and walked toward the nearest door that led outside. He knew without looking that Logan would be right behind them.

  Once they were outside, he moved at a fast clip until there were several trailers between them and the building, and he was sure they were alone. Only then did he stop and face the pretty woman who had amped his temper and his arousal to a high simmer.

  She returned his gaze with one of her own that he read as more frustrated than angry, and more aroused then hesitant. Pulling her close, he twisted her arm up behind her back and pulled her closer, forcing her to lean against him. With his free hand, he lifted her chin and then leaned his head down until their noses were an inch apart.

  “The only broncs you’ll be bucking on are me and Logan. You’ve been running around Loving so out of control you don’t even know how bad things are. You need to cancel your contract to buy the farm, and get yourself some professional help.”

  Her eyes grew even bigger and she looked at him with such disdain it was all he could do not to find a chair and spank her. Or hold her on his lap and cuddle her until she spilled all the secrets he could see in those celery green eyes.

  She did not argue. She did not fight his hold. She just stood passively in his arms as her eyes grew glassy with tears.

  Letting go of the woman was the hardest thing Drake had ever done, but he had to. Until she willingly gave herself over to his care and control, he had no right to lay a finger on her. “Come on, Logan, let’s go.”

  He managed to take two steps before her next words pierced his heart and pinned him to the spot where he stood.

  “You’re wrong. I do know how bad things are. I know exactly how crazy I’ve been acting. What you don’t understand is I can’t stop myself. I know I need help. But Master left me and there is no one else.”

  Drake slowly turned back. His gut clenched and his cock surged to attention at the sight of Kinsey kneeling in the grass. Her posture was perfect except her head was too far forward and her shoulders slumped. The defeated acceptance that radiated from her was palpable.

  Looking to Logan, Drake saw the same concern in his eyes that he felt pulsing through his body. They could not walk away from this woman. Her need for what they could give her was too great. He also understood it would take both of them to keep her controlled.

  Logan returned his look as he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. A single movement of his boy’s head up and down gave Drake his permission to do what was necessary.

  Looking back at Kinsey, he did not see her wearing clothes. Instead, she was naked and wearing a collar similar to the one Logan wore when they played games, only more delicate leather. He sucked a breath through his nose as his cock went from half-hard to iron rod hard in less time than it took to fall off a horse.

  “What did you do in the military?” he asked.

  “I flew medical rescue helicopters,” she answered just loud enough for him to hear.

  He knew the kind she meant. Big-ass helicopters that flew in and out of hot zones ferrying out injured and dead. To do that job she had to have nerves of steel and balls the sizes of basketballs. He already knew she was as wild as a mustang.

  One last look at Logan and he made up his mind. He only hoped it would not come back to bite him in the ass.

  “You have a decision to make in the next ten seconds. You can continue on the way you have been going,” he said, keeping his voice soft and nonthreatening, “or you can hand over your keys and give yourself over to our care.”

  * * * *

  Knowing if she did not agree she would end up in an asylum somewhere, Kinsey did not hesitate. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out both her car keys and the key to her room at the motel. Holding them on her open palm, she lifted her arm toward the dominant man. Somewhere inside her, she knew these two were probably the only men in the world who could manage her wild and crazy actions.

  She kept her eyes glued to those keys. Her heart began to pound, and fear soured her stomach, making her feel sicker by the second. If Drake refused her submission and left her drowning in her out-of-control misery, she had a feeling she might not survive the next time she acted out.

  She ignored the tears that rolled down her cheeks one after another. This was one of those moments where she had to be patient, a skill she had never fully mastered when she had been with Nelson. She bit her lip as her hand began to quiver from the effort of holding it up in supplication.

  If Drake did not accept her keys, and by extension her, she knew she would go back inside and sign up for a dance with Rowdy Jackson. She would just have to figure out what bareback bronc riding entailed before the rodeo.

  Even though these two men were strangers, she could see both were content in their relationship. She remembered feeling similarly settled in her skin once. When Master had been in charge, made the decisions, and enforced the
boundaries to keep her from getting to wild. His rules had been stricter and his punishments harsher than anything the military’s Code of Conduct currently had on its books.

  She did not realize she was holding her breath until Drake lifted the keys from her palm. She sucked in a breath as she raised her eyes to look up at the two men who stood side by side before her.

  Though Logan was bigger in height and width, it was clear that Drake was in charge. She met Drake’s gaze for an endless five seconds. It was as if he was waiting for something. Kinsey just did not know what it could be. Then his head tilted a fraction of an inch and one eyebrow lifted.

  At once, she knew what he wanted. She dropped her eyes to stare at his boots while she waited for someone to say something.

  “Take her to her hotel. Help her pack up and check out. Then bring her and her gear to the house. Put her in the guest room for now,” Drake finally said.

  Kinsey sighed and her shoulders relaxed. Then she replayed his words and her head came up. “I can’t move in with you,” she said as she scrambled to her feet.

  “Well you sure as hell aren’t going to stay in town alone,” Drake said. “God only knows how much trouble you could get into if you’re by yourself.”

  His tone was calm but carried the same thread of steel that Nelson had used when she was dancing on his nerves and on the verge of getting spanked. It was just like Master Nelson had spoken. A shiver raced down Kinsey’s spine and her pussy dampened. Her head automatically dropped forward as she slid into a standing slave position.

  “Sorry, Sir,” she said softly as she stared hard at the grass.

  Then a pair of boots stepped into her line of vision and a hand slid under her braid and encircled the back of her neck. “Eyes on me, sugar britches,” Drake ordered softly.

 

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