Her Cowboy Stud

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Her Cowboy Stud Page 5

by Randi Alexander


  “Trace,” she cried and released her grip on the headboard. “What just happened?”

  He kissed her knee, then the other one as his shaking body held onto her for support. “Everything, I think.”

  She smiled, a weak curl of lips as she caught her breath. “I think it was. Everything.”

  Trace pulled his very satisfied cock from inside her quivering, vibrating cunt, removed the toy from her ass, and stepped into the bathroom for a minute.

  When he stood at the side of the bed, looking down at her sleeping face and boneless body, he prayed this was just the beginning. Where they went from here would be her call, but he'd be damned if he'd let her go easily.

  She opened her eyes, reached for him, tugging him down for a kiss.

  He laid next to her, not breaking the contact of their lips. Wrapped in afterglow and snug in each other’s arms, Trace let his tongue glide across hers, a slow tease, a sensual promise. When the kiss ended, they lay side by side, looking into each other’s eyes. Nothing had felt this perfect. Not ever.

  They slept again.

  Trace woke a half hour later to the ringing of his cell phone.

  Macy stood next to the bed holding it out to him. “I hope you don’t mind, I found it in your pocket.”

  “Thanks.” He took the phone, still groggy, and saw Reece’s name on the screen. Damn. “Sorry, I need to take this.” Macy smiled and walked into the bathroom.

  He watched her sweet, round ass disappear as she closed the door, and he answered the call. “Hey, sorry, I should have called.”

  “Hi, cowboy. Are you coming into town, or do I have to come out there?” Reece’s low purr vibrated through the phone, but what used to warm him up, only threw cold water on him today.

  “No, it’s not gonna work tonight. I have to apologize.” They’d hooked up a couple times in the last few months, but neither of them was looking for permanent. When he’d run into her last Sunday in town, she’d invited him for supper tonight. With all his concentration on Macy’s arrival, it’d slipped his mind. He didn’t want to tell her they were over, on the phone—and with Macy in the house.

  The bathroom door was still closed, but he stood and walked over to the window, staring out at the moonlit night.

  “Ooh, Trace,” she whined. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight.” She huffed a sigh. “I have a new whip, and I can’t wait to feel its sting.” She purred again. “How about tomorrow?”

  Yeah, he should go talk to her, tell her they were through. “That should work. But Reece?” How did he warn her it wasn’t going to be the kind of get-together she was planning on?

  “What time?” she demanded.

  “Let me call you. I’m not sure when I’ll be free.” His gut ached when he thought of Macy leaving. Driving her rental car down that long driveway and disappearing over the ridge.

  “Okay, lover, but you’d better make this up to me.” Her voice turned pouty, and it grated on his nerves.

  His sense of honor ruled. “I’m real sorry I didn’t call, Reece. Somethin’ came up and I forgot about tonight. But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  At the sound of an indrawn breath, he turned. Macy sat on the edge of the bed, her face pale.

  Shit. “I’ve gotta go.” He disconnected the call.

  “You’re making plans with another woman.” It was an accusation, not a question. “For tomorrow.” Macy waited a few seconds before bending to collect her underwear and pants, her movements jerky.

  “No. It’s not what it sounded like. Reese…we just…a couple times we—”

  “Oh, I can guess what you did a couple times. No need to explain. I'll be gone in the morning, and you can get back to your life…” Her words faded to a whisper. Her head snapped right and left, looking, he guessed, for her top.

  Trace saw it behind the chair where it landed when he’d tossed it earlier. He wasn’t going to let her have it, though. She wasn’t running out on him.

  “Macy.” He walked to where she sat straightening her inside-out pants. “Listen to me.” He sat on his heels in front of her and took the pants from her hands.

  She looked at him, disappointment clouding her eyes and furrowing her brow.

  “I’m not seeing her tomorrow.”

  She opened her mouth, but he spoke first.

  “Yes, I’m seeing her tomorrow. But not for sex.” He went with full disclosure. “We had a date tonight, which I forgot to break.”

  She shook her head. “Insurance?”

  Fisting his hands on the bed on each side of her legs, he said, “I’m not that way. I’m not a man to keep a woman waitin’ just in case his other…” He paused, searching for a word.

  Her eyes widened. “Other what?” she prompted, her voice quavering.

  “Other options fall through.” He took a long breath, not knowing how to fix this except with the truth. “Silas raised me to be a gentleman, and by God, I live every day of my life that way. I should have called Reece. I would have, if my mind hadn’t been filled with…you.”

  Macy blinked a couple times. She picked up her underwear, gripping it with both hands. “But what about tomorrow? You told her you’d call and see her tomorrow.”

  He opened his fists and laid his hands on the sides of her thighs. Soft and warm, the feel of her skin put sensual thoughts into his head, shot physical need down low to his groin.

  “I’m gonna see her tomorrow to tell her we’re through. I won’t do somethin’ like that over the phone.”

  The look she gave him was so hopeful, he nearly choked up. Goddamn. The things this woman did to him. Emotions he didn’t think he had rumbled around inside him.

  “It’s true, sweetheart. You believe me, don’t you?”

  She sucked in an unsteady breath and nodded. “I do.” She just barely smiled. “Mainly because your uncle used the word ‘honest’ to describe you about a hundred times.”

  He stood and pulled her up with him, tossing her panties aside as he watched her face, judging her mood. They’d just had their second misunderstanding in two hours. He wanted it over and cleared up. “Know this,” he vowed, his body heating as she slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders. “You can trust me.”

  Smiling in earnest now, she whispered, “I do. Even after knowing you for only a short time, I do trust you.”

  He pulled her close and nuzzled her neck, unable to believe his luck. He wanted to say more, wanted to ask her for more, but he had to ease off. Too much. Too soon. So instead, he said, “There’s another promise I need to be keepin’ before it’s too late.”

  Tipping her head back to look at him, she asked, “What’s that?”

  “Promised JaniceLynn I wouldn’t let her supper dry out.” He stepped back, loving her soft laugh. “Hungry?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Are you?”

  He was hungry enough to eat half of Texas, but she was his guest. “We’ll wait a bit. I’ll be right back.”

  With a kiss, he left her, walked to the living room, and closed the front door against the chill night air. He turned off the oven, peering inside to make sure whatever was in the covered pans hadn’t turned to charcoal. Stepping into the bedroom, he watched Macy from behind as she set her folded clothes on a chair. His rod jerked as it filled and stretched. She was hot. Her curves as full and rich as the rolling hills of his land.

  Ambling up to her, he pressed himself along her back, his cock nestling against the tempting slit of her ass.

  She reached her arms over her head and locked her hands behind his neck. “Mmm hmm.” When she slowly circled her hips and ground her tight ass against his growing erection, he knew he had to have her again. Now.

  “What are you doin’ to me?” he murmured in her ear, tracing the delicate shell with his lips. He forgot his growling stomach—he’d never been this hungry for a woman.

  “I’m trying to seduce you.”

  “It’s workin’.” He chuckled.

  “I can tell,” she breathed as a
shiver jittered her body.

  He turned her, kissing her, his tongue plunging quickly, ramping up the tension between them. “I want you.” He narrowed his eyes and with his hands on her ass, he pulled her hips against his, her soft mound cradling his erection.

  “I know what you need, Trace,” her voice rasped. “It’s the same with me. I want you hard and fast this time.” The naughty glint in her blue eyes charged like electricity through him, shooting wild, throbbing pulses down into his cock.

  “I want to take you from behind.” He’d been craving this from the moment he saw her looking out over his land, her white pants snug on her perfect ass, her sexy calves bare, and her feet, delicate in those high heeled sandals. “I want your sweet ass pressed up against my hips, and I want to feel my balls slappin’ against your shaved mound.”

  Her eyes closed as she cried, “Yes, please. I want you inside me. Fuck me from behind.”

  He swatted her butt. “You can get naughty, can’t you.”

  Her eyes glowed. “I can. How naughty can you get?” She smacked his ass twice as hard.

  Did his little blushing lady hide a fetish? “You like to be spanked?” He rubbed his palm over her ass cheek.

  She bit her lip and nodded. The color flooded back in her cheeks, and her eyes gleamed with expectation.

  He spanked her once, the hard crack echoing in the room. “Too much?”

  “Not enough.”

  “Aw, darlin’.” In the barn, she'd said she was into bondage. Was she into discipline, too? “I think you and I have somethin’ in common.”

  “Would you like to see the newest products in that line?”

  “You show me yours,” he growled, excitement making his heart race. “I’ll show you mine.” He hoped his wouldn't be too much for her.

  She reached back to the chair, inside the pocket of her pants, and pulled out her key fob. Pointing it out the window, she popped the trunk on her car.

  This was amazing. He’d planned to ease her into his lifestyle slowly, over months, or years. Here she was, ready to show him how it was done in the big city.

  Reaching under the bed, he brought out a black suitcase and set it on the mattress.

  She ran her hand over the top. “May I look?”

  “Macy, I…” Aw, hell. She might as well see everything. If anything freaked her out, she'd be dressed and halfway out the door by the time he got back with her case. But at least he would end the torture of not knowing. “Of course. While I get yours.”

  “It’s the purple case.” She sat next to the suitcase, opened the latches, and lifted the lid, her eyes bright.

  Trace grabbed his jeans and slid into them, hot-footing it down the hall and out the door. When he hauled her case into the bedroom, she rummaged through his suitcase, deep into his secret life.

  “A flogger,” she said as she ran her hand over the soft rubber strips. “This is unexpected.” She grinned up at him.

  He stood next to her and reached in. “That’s for beginners. This…” He pulled out a riding crop. “Is for the advanced class.”

  Her mouth formed into a tight little circle. “I think I’m somewhere in between.” She dug in the suitcase again. “A blindfold, wrist restraints, and a candle. You are a naughty boy, aren’t you.”

  He laughed and took the candle from her. “This didn’t go over too well.”

  She nodded. “I have a different type of candle made of paraffin. The wax doesn’t get as hot.”

  He shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re into this.”

  Skimming the flogger across her thigh, she said, “In college, it was kind of the thing. My girlfriend, the owner of the company I work for, was into it and she showed me.”

  Macy went both ways? “You and she were…”

  She laughed. “No. We’d been friends forever. Like sisters. She explained things, we watched videos. She introduced me to a few guys, and I started dating one of them.” She swatted her thigh with the black rubber flogger. “He taught me the pleasures of submission.”

  Trace leaned forward and kissed her, fast and wild. His libido slammed into overdrive, and he needed to get Macy under him. Damn soon. The night was slipping away, and he didn't know if they'd have another. He brushed his fingers across her cheek. Was she a one-night kind of lover? Would she rake in the profits from Spinning Wheel, but never find the time to come back here to see her horse—or to see him?

  “Trace?” Her brow furrowed. “Is everything all right?”

  He nodded. “Fine.” He couldn't worry about his future right now. Couldn't focus on hundreds of lonely nights that would be his life if he didn't find a way to keep Macy coming back to Houston.

  He lifted her case onto the bed and snapped open the latches. Inside were dozens of sealed packages. He lifted one bag and read the label. “Spreader Bar.”

  She stood next to him. “We can try that. If you’d like.”

  “Yeah. I’d like.” He’d seen this before, online. Locking Macy into them was a fantasy beyond anything he’d dreamed. He set it on the bed and pulled out a package with fuzzy pink handcuffs connected by a two-foot-long chain. “These, too?”

  “Mmm hmm. I like the way you’re thinking.” She dug toward the bottom and pulled out a small package. “Nipple clamps?”

  “Oh, yeah.” His cock jerked in his jeans, straining painfully against the zipper. She liked it rough.

  “Let’s get you undressed first, shall we?” she asked and reached for his waistband.

  He grabbed her wrist. “I don’t think so. Not without permission.”

  Her gaze shot to hers, first showing surprise, then desire. Her breath became choppy and her eyes darkened. She glanced down and with a shiver, her nipples puckered. “May I please remove your jeans?” Low and sexy, her voice shot waves of lust down his spine to his balls.

  “No.” If she freed his cock, if she so much as touched him, he might lose it. Better to keep things a little painful down there. He removed the cases from the bed and set the toys on his nightstand, opening the sealed packages.

  She stood unmoving, her chest heaving with her labored breaths. Her heavy-lidded eyes followed his every move, but like a good submissive, she waited for his instructions.

  He smelled her musk, feminine and inviting. He wanted her now, fast and wild, but the pleasure they’d both get from this game was worth the torture of waiting.

  Picking up the nipple clamps, he demanded, “Hold your breasts in your hands.”

  Chapter Six

  Macy obeyed Trace's command and cupped the undersides of her breasts. She bit her lips to keep from grinning as he stood in front of her inspecting the nipple clamps. She’d guessed her sexy cowboy had a dominant streak, but after the playful lovemaking they’d shared, she didn’t think he’d be ready to explore it. He was way ahead of her, though.

  His black suitcase held some wicked surprises, but she was ready to take him to the next level. He hadn't seemed shocked by her choice of toys and restraints, which was both a relief and a thrill. Holding her breasts in her hands, she stared at the newly patented swivel clamps he held. A flush of heat stole through her as he reached for her.

  He tweaked her left nipple between his finger and thumb, sending tingling thrills through her breast. He tweaked the other, and her belly tightened in needy anticipation.

  Squeezing the clamps open, he positioned them over her nipples. “Look at me.”

  She gazed into his eyes, seeing his excitement. His desire.

  Her body quivered as she waited.

  He clamped both nipples at the same time.

  She jumped, the sweet agony coursed through her breasts while her pussy contracted, mirroring the pleasure in her nipples. The clamps weren’t tight, but their weight tugged at her sensitive buds, creating a hot, pulling sensation that throbbed with every heartbeat.

  Trace stepped forward and took her head in his hands. His mouth slanted over hers and he kissed her demandingly. Drawing her tongue into his mouth,
he nipped at it, bit at her lips as he slid his hands down her neck, over her shoulders, and down to her wrists.

  “We need a safeword,” he said against her lips.

  “Spinning Wheel,” she replied.

  “Perfect.” He held her wrists, grasping them both in one of his big hands. Reaching for the fuzzy handcuffs, he opened and slid it on her wrist. He tightened it slowly.

  She loved how carefully he controlled everything, first setting the clamps to light pressure, now making sure he didn’t cut off her circulation with the cuffs. He was dominant, but he wasn’t cruel. He could be the perfect man for her… Darn, she wanted to give in completely to the sensation, but that annoying voice in her head kept asking, “Is this our only night together?”

  “On the bed,” he directed. “On your stomach.”

  What did he have planned? She knew better than to ask. Clearing her mind of everything but anticipation, she lay on her belly, the sweet pressure on her nipples reviving as she lay on the clamps.

  Trace grazed his fingertips over her calf, up her thigh, over her ass, and up her back. The firm touch made her squirm with impatience. He looped the handcuff chain through one of the heavy pine posts on the headboard. Securing the other cuff to her wrist, he ran his fingers over her again, all the way to the bottoms of her feet.

  His quiet, slow movements built her anticipation level. She needed more, wanted him to give her the pleasurable pain she craved.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She did as he asked.

  He wrapped a soft, padded ankle restraint around her left leg, then eased her other leg wider and fastened the cuff on the other end of the spreader to her ankle. “You are so beautiful.”

  His sensual voice from the foot of the bed made her pussy contract in lust. She could feel his stare, knew he was looking at her slit. Spread wide and tethered to the bed, she submitted fully, helpless to do anything but let him dominate. A chill tingled across her back and down her arms, raising the tiny hairs on her forearms.

  “Arch your back for me.” His voice rumbled, low and sexy.

 

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