by Vonna Harper
When she removed her hat, he saw she had a lump on her right temple, her outfit was covered with dust. Other than that, she looked none the worst for wear. Why then couldn’t he stop mentally replaying her accident and feeling this gut-level fear?
“Sit down,” he ordered. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
“Water, please. And aspirin if you have it.”
He filled her request while she sat on the single bed that doubled as a couch. After washing down the aspirin, she stared up at him. “You don’t usually do pick-up, do you? More important things to deal with, right?”
“Usually, yes.”
“But tonight was different, why?”
Because I knew you’d be riding. “It’s a good thing I was out there. Otherwise, you would have had to exit under your own steam.”
“Which I’m perfectly capable of doing.” She fingered her swollen temple. “I look like shit, don’t I?”
You look incredible, strong and feminine all rolled into one. “Why do you do it?” he demanded. “What the hell are you trying to prove? Do you have any idea how few women try bareback?”
“I don’t need to prove anything. I’ve always stood on my own two feet.”
“Always? What about when you were a child?”
She laughed, the sound harsh. “Where do you think the training began? My childhood serves as a model for the term throwaway kid.”
On the verge of asking if she hurt somewhere beside her head, his thoughts hung up on her unexpected admission. “You were abandoned?”
She stared which made him wonder whether she’d surprised herself by her candor. “For lack of a better term, but I’m over it…or I guess you could say I learned how to adapt. Look, I don’t want to get into my history tonight. I’m not sure I ever do.” She closed her eyes, breathed deeply then opened them. “I appreciate you carrying me here and giving me drugs. Thank you. I’m not used to needing or accepting help.”
Just like me.
“But you need to get back to work and I might as well go home since I’m sure not in much shape for celebrating afterward…if I even had something to celebrate.”
He fully expected her legs to go out from under her, after all, that’s what happened in the movies when the script called for a romantic scene. However, although she had to lean against the wall, she remained standing. The trailer was so small he could barely turn around when just he was in it, and yet he felt distance between them. She held herself apart from him, a loner who didn’t know how to rely on anyone.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said.
“What doesn’t?”
“You. Making it on your own. Thinking you always have to do it all yourself.”
“It’s what I want.”
Her words were simple, yet complex, a summation he both understood and felt a stranger to. The women he worked with all wanted something from him—not emotionally but physically. Either they were determined to explore their own sexuality or were preparing themselves to accommodate some man’s demands and desires.
In marked contrast, all Maita needed from him were a couple of aspirin.
“Kade,” she said softly, her hand on the doorknob. “It might not make sense to you, but I like my life the way it is. I don’t have any experience in relying on another human being.”
She’d opened the door and started out before he spoke. “What will it take to change you?”
“Too late.”
Chapter Six
“What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing. You want me to get back on your worthless old nag, just name the time and place.”
“I’m not talking about bronc riding, Maita.”
Kade’s challenge hung in the air. His hard glare didn’t help. He’d called the morning after the rodeo to ask how she was doing. Although it had taken all she had to get out of bed, she’d told him she was fine, thank you very much. Maybe he’d read something in her voice that gave away the lie and maybe his story about wanting to see Rylan and having planned to come out this way anyway had been the truth. Either way, when he’d shown up three days ago, she had been out at the barn preparing to work with another barrel horse.
She’d chatted briefly with both men before hoisting herself into the saddle and riding off for the area set up for practice. To her consternation, they’d wandered out her way and watched for a while. By the time they’d left, her jaw ached from clenching her teeth to hide her aches and pains, and her head throbbed.
Kade had dropped by unannounced the next day to let her know he was taking delivery on a half dozen new Brahmas and did she want to come see them. This time he’d caught her trying to put on a bridle with her left hand because she couldn’t lift her wrenched right arm above shoulder height. He hadn’t had the good grace to pretend not to notice but had demanded to know why she insisted on pushing herself. She’d snapped that she wasn’t about to play invalid.
Fortunately she hadn’t seen him for a couple of days, but here he was again standing in her doorway throwing accusations at her. Even worse, his faded jeans fit so damn tight his bulge left little to the imagination. He smelled of aftershave.
“Then what are you talking about?” she demanded although she’d have preferred any other topic.
“Rylan didn’t know you’d been knocked out. Why the hell didn’t you tell him?”
“I can still do my job.” She lifted both arms over her head and turned from side to side demonstrating her now returned flexibility. “He doesn’t care about anything else.”
“The hell he doesn’t, and you know it. Damn it, why won’t you let anyone get close?”
I don’t know how. “You and I fucked. If that isn’t close, what is?”
“But it only happened once.”
She wasn’t about to tell him about erotic dreams and midnight masturbation. Neither could she imagine admitting how much she wanted to throw herself at him at this very moment, to acknowledge his understanding of her and beg him to master her.
No! To present herself to him for the taking represented the height of vulnerability.
“Maybe I was waiting for an invitation,” she quipped.
“Speaking of invitations, are you going to ask me in?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“No one else is around, in case you didn’t notice. I need to work, not argue with you.”
“You’re throwing up barriers.”
Look who’s talking.
“I’m not one of your bimbos, Kade. You can’t lay claim to me.”
He stepped toward her, and it took all she had to stand her ground. When he caressed her still-tender temple, she told herself he was demonstrating normal curiosity. Then he pressed his hand against the back of her neck and forced her toward him, and she had no rationale for either his action or her reaction.
“You fascinate me,” he said. “I keep wondering what it would take to break you down and have you begging for what I can give you.”
At his words, her teeth all but floated. The strength went out of her, and her arms hung at her side. A lifetime of having total responsibility for herself, body and soul, evaporated. Turning herself over to someone else for manipulation, for the very breath in her lungs was terrifying and exciting at the same time.
“I can’t afford you.” Her voice sounded weak.
He kept the pressure on her neck. “I’m not charging.”
“Who says I’m interested?”
“You won’t know until you try—unless you’re afraid.”
Afraid! No.
Propelled by the challenge, she twisted away. She half expected him to come after her, but he remained in the doorway—filling it and affording her no escape.
“Go away!” she ordered. “I don’t want—”
“Yes. You do.”
* * * * *
Maita rode bareback. The gelding showed promise as a jumper and although she’d told her boss she’d work with the horse while he was g
one, instead of practicing pacing and placement, she’d taken him out for a long, easy run. Sitting on his sharp backbone hadn’t accomplished much except to keep her on edge sexually, but at least the ladder of spine had given her something to rub herself against.
Feeling more frustrated than she’d been when she’d hoisted herself onto the gelding, she headed home. She should clean out the barn. True, she’d wind up hot and dirty, but at least she’d be too tired to care about anything except a shower. Maybe.
She halted the gelding at the entrance to the barn, dismounted, and walked him into his stall. After unbridling him, she filled his water bucket and made sure he had enough hay. It was definitely cooler in here, and she was loath to move.
However, she wouldn’t sleep tonight if she didn’t get more exercise.
With the reminder propelling her, she rubbed the gelding’s forehead and shut the gate behind him. She started toward the barn entrance.
A half dozen steps from freedom, someone grabbed her from behind, pinned her arms against her sides, and pulled her off her feet. She started to kick back. Before she could land a blow, the intruder threw her facedown into a pile of hay. Barely able to breathe, she fought to get her arms under her, but they sank into the hay. A large male straddled her waist, his weight pinning her hips. She felt rope circle first one elbow and then the other. Then her captor yanked her elbows together behind her back and quickly tied them. Her wrists were still free, but what did it matter?
She concentrated on keeping her head turned to the side so she could breathe. The man quickly, expertly, turned around and repositioned himself so he now faced her legs. Once more she tried to kick but as with her arms, he easily snaked more loops of rope around her ankles and tied them together. Although she wore boots, her feet were useless. Her lungs burned with the desire to scream, but the ranch complex was deserted. No one would hear her.
The man again lifted himself off her. He planted one hand between her shoulder blades and pressed down, and worked her shirt out of her waistband. He pushed the shirt up as far as her belly-down position allowed.
She knew those hands.
“Kade? Damn it, what—”
Before she could finish, he grabbed her braid and pulled her head back. She felt something being pressed against her teeth forcing her to open her mouth. The moment she did, Kade gagged her with what felt like a short length of wooden dowel. Next, he released her hair and hooked something—maybe leather—behind her head, which kept the dowel in place. She could still utter a muffled sound but what was the point?
Although her nerves felt about to explode, she didn’t resist as he rolled her onto her back. He was dressed in black, the short-sleeved pullover shirt clinging to his muscled chest and arms.
“You’re going to learn a lesson today,” he told her. “When I’m done with you, we’ll see if you feel the same way about turning yourself over to someone else, giving up control.” He pushed her shirt up over her breasts then worked her bra upward freeing her breasts. “You fear not being in charge of your body. I don’t blame you. I don’t.” He stroked her breasts. “But it’s time for you to change…and to experience the pleasure of surrender.”
The pleasure of surrender? No! she told him with her eyes, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he pulled her to her feet and threw her over his shoulder. She might have managed to dislodge herself if she fought, but she’d still be his prisoner.
To her shock, he walked over to and into Rylan’s house.
“In case you’re curious,” Kade said, “your boss usually locks his door, but he knew I wanted to use a certain room.”
What room? She lifted her head as best she could as Kade took them down a hall she’d never been into. She thought he might go into the bedroom she assumed Rylan shared with Ann. Instead, when he stood her upright, she found herself looking down a set of stairs.
“I don’t want to take a chance on falling so you’re going to walk,” he informed her. “And in order for you to navigate the stairs, you’ll need your feet.”
It took him only a moment to untie her ankles. He kept his hands on her, stroking her calves, thighs, and then hips as he straightened. He closed his hand around the elbow restraints and pushed her to the top of the stairs. “We’ll go down together.”
He’d taken her into a basement. Even with the lights off, she had no doubt where they were because the room had the musky smell she associated with below ground spaces. He’d closed and locked the door at the top of the stairs. Because she had no idea what the room contained, when he let go of her, she didn’t take a step. Although she was tuned in to her surroundings, she didn’t know he’d returned until he snagged her wrists and tied them together. The double arm bonds forced her to arch her back. She didn’t want to think about what her exposed breasts looked like, especially with the bra pushing down on them.
Why didn’t he turn on the light?
He unsnapped her jeans and pulled them and her panties down over her hips. The fabric now around her knees tethered her.
“Slow,” he muttered. “Slow and steady. Bit by bit I’ll change you. Introduce you to what your body’s truly capable of.”
She didn’t want to be here! Wanted back daylight and freedom! At the same time, his words held promise.
This time when he lifted her off her feet, it was to deposit her on what had to be a mattress on the floor. He’d positioned her so her upper body rested on her bound arms, and she lay there like an about-to-be-branded calf while he removed her boots, socks, jeans, and finally her panties.
She expected his hands on her crotch but was still waiting for the touch when he looped rope around her ankles, crossing one leg slightly over the other. More rope soon circled her just above her knees and sealed her pussy closed. Then while she waited to see what he would do next, he unbuttoned her blouse and reached behind to unhook her bra. While she wondered how he’d remove the rest of her clothes, he rolled her onto her belly and untied first her elbows and then her wrists.
She could have fought, scratched and struggled. Instead, she mentally and emotionally went with his hands as he undressed her. Then he retied her wrists behind her and positioned her on her side. A mental image of him kneeling over her weakened her and sent her thoughts, her response to her sex.
Helpless. At his mercy.
He was doing something to her wrists, but she didn’t try to make sense of it until he pulled up on her ankle restraints so her legs were bent. Demonstrating more of his expertise, he tied her ankles and wrists together.
She felt him get off the mattress. A few seconds later he switched on a light. Once her eyes had made the adjustment, she saw she indeed was in a basement although dungeon better described it. The stone and timber walls sported several metal rings fastened to them. Other rings hung from the ceiling or had been embedded into the stone floor. She spotted a cage in one corner, its dimensions so small whoever was placed in it could hardly move. As for the other furniture, she didn’t want to think about their uses.
“Now you know your employer’s other side.” Kade stood over her. “As long as Ann entertains his fantasies, she’ll be the only one—other than you today—to come in here, but Rylan gets restless. And as you can see by the decorations—” He swept his arm over the room. “He needs variety.”
Variety? Was that why Kade had kidnapped her, because he’d grown bored with what he usually did to women? But why her?
“You’re hogtied,” he said. He continued to stand, forcing her to look up at him. “The line of a naked woman with her back arched, her breasts ready for whatever I want to do to them, and her limbs useless is beautiful. I might take pictures so you know what I’m looking at.”
Helpless.
She thought she’d buried the word years ago, but when he knelt beside her and placed his hands over her breasts, it surged back to life. She tried to shrink away from him but only managed to press herself another inch into the mattress.
“I could play with you like this for ho
urs.” He worked his fingers against her flesh, sending friction to her nipples. “Bring you to the brink and then back you down—over and over again. Think about it, Maita.” He transferred a hand to her hip. “You’re a calf. I’m the cowboy who has just lassoed you.”
He caught her right nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolled it back and forth. As he did, he worked his other hand between her legs and pressed against her. “I’m going to brand you but not in ways you’ve ever seen. You can’t move, can’t fight. There’s no one watching this event, no judges telling me to release my calf. If I wanted, I could drag you from one end of the arena to the other.”
What are you doing? she tried to ask with her eyes. His threat, if that’s what it was, should have terrified her. Instead, sexual excitement touched her nerve endings.
He maneuvered a finger inside her. “Wet. I thought so. Being helpless turns you on, doesn’t it?”
When she didn’t respond, he lightly slapped first one breast and then the other. She tried to squirm away which earned her even harder slaps. Furious, scared and turned on all at the same time, she redoubled her pathetic efforts at fighting. Her struggles earned her another finger up her cunt coupled with his callused hand now pressing so hard on a breast she felt weighted down.
“I love doing this,” he informed her. “And I’m damn good at it. I know how the game is played and constantly make up new rules, new moves. By the time I’m done with you tonight, you’ll never be the same. Your priorities will have changed.”
Priorities?
Still pressing on a breast, he began a stroking motion along her labia that nearly duplicated the feel of a man’s cock. Although she wasn’t cold, she began shivering, all thoughts of resistance faded. Yes, he knew what she needed. Yes, his methods were crude and frightening. True, she hated both of them for what was taking place, but laced in with self-disgust, release began. Each stroke brought her closer to welcome relief. He controlled more than the existence, time, and tempo of her climax. Her body no longer belonged to her—he’d demonstrated his greater power and knowledge. In gratitude and surrender, she turned herself over to him.