So Not a Cowgirl

by Starla Kaye

  She hazarded a glance at him. The intensity in his gaze made her nipples pebble even more. Darn him! She did not want to react to him like this. She was done with men! At least for now. They caused her nothing but problems.

  “Stop it!” she hissed and spun around to focus on picking up the mess she’d made.

  “Are you going to be able to put all of this back exactly like it had been? Remember how I told you I like order. My kind of order.” While his tone held a tinge of leftover huskiness, he had shifted into boss mode. Irritated boss mode.

  “Of course I can.” She tried her best to ignore him. But as she looked at the mess again, she wondered if she really could put everything back correctly. “Go away,” she grouched.

  Naturally he didn’t. From the corner of her eye, she spotted him carefully picking up invoices and letters.

  “What part of go away didn’t you understand?” she grumbled, tiptoeing further away from him. His nearness—and her continued unwanted awareness of him—made her testy. “You’ve been making yourself scarce all week. Go back to doing that. It works for me.”

  He’d been avoiding her ever since their strange talk in the middle of the night five days ago. Which had been good, she reminded herself. She didn’t want to be around him. She just wanted to do her job.

  She bent down to snag an invoice that had slid under one of the chairs in front of the desk. She listened for his retreating footsteps, her heart pounding.

  He didn’t retreat. He didn’t tiptoe. He practically stomped over to her and swatted her bottom with the flat of his hard, calloused hand. The loud WHACK! echoed around the room.

  Tanya jerked upright. “What was that for?” One swat, but jeez it was a doozy.

  Not looking the least repentant, he said, “For bratting.”

  The heat of a blush crept up her neck and she darted her glance away from him. Bratting. Her dad had accused her of doing that same thing more times than she cared to remember. He’d dealt with the attitude in the same manner Drew had.

  “I wasn’t ‘bratting.’” she protested. “I just don’t need your help cleaning up the mess I made.”

  “Snapping, sassing, being bossy,” he began as if going over a list of her errors. “Cussing. Stomping your feet in a temper tantrum.”

  “I never—“

  “I told you that I heard you clear down the hall. On both matters.”

  She finally had the good sense to not respond.

  “You know what I think?” he prodded, hooking her in so that she looked at him once more.

  Cautiously she asked, “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not.” He glimpsed her cleavage revealed by the too-low neckline, and then ground his teeth a second. “I think you need a trip across my knee.”

  Her heart pounded. Her sensitive bud that had been awakened by his kiss, by the nearness of his very male body, now pulsed. Was she nuts? He was talking about… Darn heart, pounded even harder.

  “It would do us both good,” he stated calmly.

  She drew in a shuddering breath and countered, “My lying across your knee…” She swallowed hard as she saw the heat return to his gaze. “You … You applying your hand to my bottom would do me good, how?”

  He inched closer. “My taking you over my knee, my baring your bottom, my spanking your sweet butt… Well, I think we both need that right now.”

  She shook her head, but didn’t move away. “I need to pick up this mess. I need to get back to work.”

  “Yes, you do. So do I, get back to work that is.” He took her hand and led her to the leather sofa on the side of the room.

  As if spellbound, she trailed obediently after him. Never before had she gotten aroused by just the thought of a spanking. Okay, she had when they’d talked on their cell phones the other night. But that was different, a fantasy sort of. And they’d been far apart, in the dark. This was reality.

  He sat down on the sofa, released her hand so that she stood in front of him. She should hightail it out of there. She was an adult. She didn’t have to put up with this from him, or any other man. Except her father, on occasion. She owed him that respect. She didn’t owe Drew. But she stood firm and waited.

  “Are you going to take those slacks down, or am I?” he asked, looking as if pulling her slacks down wouldn’t bother him at all.

  Tanya hesitated. Go. Stay. Let him. Not let him. She stayed. “That’s not really necessary, is it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She could see that he wasn’t going to change his mind about that. Again, go? Stay?

  She stayed, but she opted for lowering her slacks herself, trying not to look at him. Embarrassing. Totally embarrassing. Yet she did it.

  Taking her hand, he helped her stretch across his lap and the sofa. He moved her forward until her quivering bottom lie directly over his hard right thigh. She felt the roughness of his jeans beneath her. She sensed the tenseness in him, the determination as well. He wasn’t certain about this either, but he intended to spank her, uncertain or not.

  One of his fingers slid along the upper edge of her bikini panties and heat curled through her. He was about to spank her like a disobedient child. But she felt far from a child at just the sensation of his touch. She was woman. He was man. There was no denying that.

  “Lift up. This little slip of nothing is coming down.”

  If she’d had to look at him now, she couldn’t have done it. Facing away, it was much easier to lift her body enough that he could pull the bit of lace down to mid-thigh. She settled into position again, face flaming.

  She felt him tense beside her, and then he set his big right hand on her cool, bare bottom.

  “Ready?”

  “No.”

  “Yes you are. So let’s get this little job done.” That big hand lifted and came back down with a solid Swat! “You’ve got a mess to clean up” He swatted her again, harder. “And I’ve got chores to get back to.”

  She balanced on her elbows. “I don’t mean to keep you from your ranch chores.”

  “You won’t keep me long.” He meant it too. Without another word he proved to her just how focused he could be on something. Proved just how skilled he was at lighting a fire on a wiggling bottom.

  And she was wiggling and jerking side to side within a minute. “Okay, okay. I get the idea.” She hissed as his hand kept right on burning her buttocks. “You don’t like bratting.”

  He shifted her back into position and took a couple of minutes to shift the fire lower, to her sit spot—as her father called it.

  “I don’t like bratting in a grown woman.” He reinforced that statement with a brisk rain of swats that had her wriggling even more.

  “I don’t like foot stomping. I don’t like women cursing.” The three or four dozen sound swats after that had her hissing and yelping a time or two.

  “Ohhhh. okay, okay.” Tanya sucked in a breath. “No stomping.”

  He tugged her back against him and renewed the fire on her buttocks. “Are you ready to clean up this room now? Without cussing about the chore? And I mean I want everything put exactly like it was. Or else…”

  Stupid her, she tilted around to ask, “Or else?”

  Their gazes met and he said firmly, “Or else you’ll get a taste of the paddle I keep in the closet. You won’t like it. Trust me on that.”

  “I’ll get it right.” With the way her bottom burned now, no way did she want to feel a paddle. He had a wicked way of spanking; a paddling would be considerably worse.

  To her surprise, and relief, he nodded and lowered his hand away from her stinging bottom. “You can get up now.”

  Wrapping her wounded pride around her, she got awkwardly off his lap. Her face was burning almost as much as her bottom as she eased her panties back in place. And she didn’t glance in his direction until she had her slacks back up as well.

  “We okay?” he asked, again surprising her.

  Tanya tucked the need to reach around and rub her sore bott
om away. She wiped at the tears welled in her eyes and said gruffly, “Am I thrilled that you needed to do this, no. But I guess I do feel less stressed.”

  He gave her a half grin, looking sexy as hell. “Like I said, we both needed this spanking.”

  One of her hands found its way back to her bottom, but she dropped it when he frowned. “What is it with you men that a girl can’t rub at the pain?” she mumbled.

  “Your father didn’t allow it either.” He looked pleased with that idea. “The point, darlin’, is that you need to feel the effects of a spanking for a spell. So you’ll think twice about earning another one for the same reason.”

  “The humiliation factor isn’t enough? The stinging isn’t enough while it happens?” Still, she didn’t move her hand back to rub even though she wanted to.

  Drew’s eyes were darkening again, and not with irritation this time. He stood and strode carefully across the room, stopping in the doorway. “I’ll check on this later.”

  Tanya did reach back this time to smooth away at the sting on her poor bottom. The spanking hadn’t really been too bad. Embarrassing, yes. But the throbbing she felt now would fade soon. Which was good, because she had a lot to do in here.

  “Remember,” he yelled back. “The paddle is in the closet.”

  The last invoice had just been put back in its correct file as the grandfather clock in the living room belled nine o’clock. Tanya leaned back against the desk and sighed in exhaustion. It had taken her nearly six hours to sort, re-sort, and final sort all of the papers and match them up with the proper files and boxes. She’d sweated through the task, but she hadn’t gone near that stupid fan again.

  Even though Drew had promised to check on her, he’d actually done no more than bob his head in the room about an hour ago. He’d changed clothes into fresh, creased jeans and a clean shirt. He’d seemed approving of the progress she’d made, but then he’d left saying he was meeting someone in town. With the scent of aftershave and his slicked back hair, she’d been certain he was going on a date. She’d stomped her foot—glad he hadn’t witnessed that—and battled down a wave of jealousy. Jealousy. She had no right to feel jealous, didn’t want to feel jealous.

  Now that the mess was straightened up, weariness had settled in, she realized she also felt lonely. The big house seemed even bigger, even emptier. Time to go back to her little house, which would still feel lonely.

  The desk phone rang and she jumped in surprise. She picked the receiver up on the second ring. “Weatherford Ranch.”

  “Tanya?” Mandy asked, sounding puzzled. “Aren’t you working kind of late? Maybe I need to speak to my brother about being a slavedriver.”

  “He’s not here,” Tanya said, irritated that she’d clearly sounded angry.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything. No, nothing.” Tanya slumped down into the desk chair, looking out into the darkening sky.

  “I repeat, what’s wrong?”

  “Bad day. Sorry.”

  “Explain.”

  Tanya sighed. “That’s what your brother said when he saw what I’d done to his office.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Tanya thought about how hard she’d worked today, how frustrated she’d been one way of the other all day. And now, ridiculously, she was upset because a man she didn’t want to get involved with was out somewhere with another woman.

  Feeling grouchy about that, she blurted out, “He spanked me. Not hard. But he spanked me. And now he’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry, Tanya. So, are you leaving tomorrow?” Mandy sounded worried.

  “Leaving tomorrow? Why?”

  “Because the big jerk spanked you.”

  Tanya rolled her eyes even though her friend couldn’t see that reaction. “I need the job, especially after getting that pretty testy letter from my last employer. Besides, I sort of deserved what Drew did.” And, she hated to admit, she had felt better—mood-wise—since the spanking.

  Her friend was quiet a minute and then cautiously asked, “Are you going to help him with the audit? Represent him with the IRS agent?”

  Tanya sat up, confused. “What audit? What agent?”

  Mandy blew out a breath and explained, “The ranch is being audited, probably because of the new foundation. Or some reason. Anyway, Drew really needs a good accountant to help him with this matter.” She heaved another sigh. “I can’t believe he hasn’t already talked to you about this.”

  “We’ve sort of had some communication issues, among other things.” She thought about this afternoon and frowned. “He sure knows how to communicate with his hand, though. But I’ll have to pin his ears back tomorrow about this IRS matter. I shouldn’t be wasting my time hunting down stupid invoices when I should be digging out whatever documents the IRS is after.”

  “Ummmm, Tanya, maybe you shouldn’t bring this up with Drew. If he didn’t mention it…”

  Tanya started pacing, feeling more irritated with her employer with each step. “Of course I’m going to talk to him about this! I can’t believe he didn’t discuss this with me. I’m experienced at this kind of thing.” She clenched her free hand and grumbled under her breath. “If he didn’t spend so damn much time avoiding me…”

  “Avoiding you?” Mandy cut in, then added, “You might not want to say ‘damn’ when you talk about this with my brother.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. He doesn’t like women cussing, any kind of cussing. He already explained that to me.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “Part of the package deal of complaints he had with me when he spanked me. Whatever.” She knew it would probably take more than one or two spankings to break her of the habit. But that was beside the matter now. “I’ll talk to you later. I need to go look for that notice you mentioned. And then I need to think about how to bring it up to Drew tomorrow. Bring it up without resorting to shaking him for being such an idiot.”

  Chapter Four

  Drew’s head felt about the size of a watermelon. A watermelon filled with lots of throbbing pulp. Pulp was obviously mindless and so was he. At least he’d been pretty damn mindless last night, although his condition had started somewhere around the time of his confrontation with Tanya. Make that the around the time she set foot on his ranch. His concentration had disappeared on all the things he needed to do almost from that moment on. He blamed Tanya. He blamed Mandy. And he blamed his body, all too primed and ready for that curvy little blond.

  Standing halfway between the stable he’d just left and the corral, he sucked in a breath of fresh, early morning air. He needed it after choosing to clean the stalls himself instead of one of the other hands. Of course there weren’t that many horses staying nights in the stable right now. Still it was no man’s favorite chore. But he sure hadn’t felt up to riding out on horseback to check on a downed fence line that Greg had mentioned. Not with this headache from hell.

  He rolled his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders. Tension. It thrummed through him. He needed to get his act together, refocus on priorities. Lord, there were at least a hundred number one priorities! Not one of them had anything to do with satisfying bodily needs, like sex. Good, old rumple-the-sheets sex. Which only brought that sassy, sexy female package of trouble back into his thoughts. Along with Sarah.

  Women. He couldn’t seem to live without them, even with all the trouble they caused him. You’d think after two badly failed marriages that he’d have the sense to stay clear of women, become celibate or something. His brain and his dick weren’t on the same page about that notion, though.

  Sarah.

  He heaved a tortured breath. What had he been thinking last night? Sarah had said pretty much the same thing after he’d all but passed out drunk on the floor of his favorite bar. She’d had to drive him back to the ranch. Lord a’mighty, that hadn’t been embarrassing at the time, but it sure was now. He wouldn’t be able to face her for a while. Part of the reason he’d gotten so damn drunk was because he hadn’t
felt the least bit turned on by seeing her, which had more or less scared him into drinking more than he should have. And, if he remembered right, she’d had on an outfit—he couldn’t recall exactly what—that should have turned him on. Even worse, he could practically describe to the detail every outfit Tanya had worn since she’d got here.

  He thumbed back his hat, squinted at the rising sun, and glanced at his house from across the ranch yard. His gaze landed right on the open-blinded office window. Even in his head-pounding misery earlier trying to let the shower jackhammer away his idiocy, he’d sensed the second Tanya had entered his home. Then as he’d stomped out of the bathroom, annoyed that she’d invaded his world so early, he’d caught a whiff of that special vanilla-rose-whatever scent she wore as it drifted his way via the traitorous air-conditioning system. He’d gone bone stiff in a flash, and, damn, if his dick wasn’t heading that direction again.

  The gravel crunched just to his left bringing him back to the present and away from something that shouldn’t, couldn’t happen. Instinctively he knew the footsteps belonged to his foreman. Without even looking in the man’s direction, Drew knew that Greg would be grinning in amusement. And why wouldn’t his friend be amused? He’d all but hauled Drew’s sorry ass into his bedroom last night. Then he’d driven Drew’s irritated date back to her ranch. Drew wasn’t in the mood to be poked fun at this morning.

  Greg, of course, didn’t care. He sidled up beside Drew and said, “Sarah said to call her when hell froze over, pigs flew, or something like that.”

  He chuckled. “Apparently she didn’t appreciate being called Tanya most of the night.”

  Drew inwardly groaned, felt his neck heat and felt the heat spreading up his unshaven-as-yet face. Sarah put up with a lot from him, but any woman would draw the line at being called by some other woman’s name. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

  His gaze shifted back to the house, zeroed in on the office window. She—the hot little accountant—had to go. Today! He didn’t have time to deal with lusty feelings for a woman he’d known would be trouble from get-go. He was up to his eyeballs in ranch problems, foundation issues, IRS problems…just plain problems every which way he turned.