Rugged Texas Cowboy

by Lora Leigh

  He sat back down on the bed, feeling the torque like a weight of incrimination.

  At twenty-two he had realized what he searched for didn’t exist in Madison, or the small towns that surrounded it. It wasn’t in Dallas, or in Fort Worth. It hadn’t been found in New Orleans, Fort Smith, or any of the other cities he had traveled and worked his way through.

  Eventually, he had stopped looking for elusive emotion and concentrated instead on profit. On prosperity. On making the land he owned something he could find pride in, something worth fighting for.

  The emptiness of the house mocked him now.

  Outside he heard the cab pull into the drive. Less than a minute later it left. And he was alone.

  Alone in the house he had built from the money he had made as he traveled the world conquering adventure.

  And losing himself.

  “Fuck!” He rose to his feet, pacing to the window to stare into the dry heat of another Texas morning.

  Damn, he thought he loved it here until he’d driven onto the land Joe Manning owned and felt the beauty of it clench his heart. Then the beauty of his Angel stole his breath. He thought this was home, but honest to God, the only hours he had found peace here, felt fulfilled, were those Angel had filled with her presence. Just as she had her father’s estate.

  Her laughter. Her irate voice. Her soft sighs.

  She haunted him, and she was no more than a few miles from the driveway, he was certain.

  He lifted his hand, releasing the torque from his neck before staring at it, holding it in the sunlight, staring down at it with a frown.

  He hadn’t even wanted the damned thing, so why had he really bought it?

  Because she claimed it.

  It was the one thing he could possess that would anchor her to him. It was the only thing she truly loved at one time, her father had claimed.

  In that moment, he realized that he had wanted it. From the moment he saw it, held it, it had been familiar, felt comfortable in his grip. Just as it felt comfortable around his neck.

  He clasped it around his neck once again, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the vivid blue of the sky.

  He told her she wasn’t leaving him, and by God he meant it.

  He showered, dressed quickly, then walked to the dresser, opening the middle drawer. Staring at the assortment of adult articles there, he decided quickly which ones to take along.

  Handcuffs were a must. The black silk kerchief. Couldn’t have her screaming too hard at a hotel; someone might call the sheriff. A few toys. Definitely the small tube of lubrication, just in case he decided to get adventurous.

  He threw them all into a small bag, pulled his boots on, grabbed his keys, and headed for the front door. It was time to bring his woman home.

  *

  Angel held back her tears as she rode into town. She kept her head turned away from the rearview mirror. She didn’t want the cabbie to see the tears swimming in her eyes, or the pain that raged through her.

  Walking away from Jack was the hardest thing she had ever done. Watching the Texas landscape pass by, the flat valley filled with grass, the rolling hills beyond thick with trees and a hardy wildness that called to something in the very depths of her soul.

  She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay, if only for the few weeks he had suggested. But if it hurt this horribly now, how much more would it hurt weeks, or even days from now? It would destroy her.

  She closed her eyes and let the image of him form in her mind. His crooked smile. His brilliant-blue eyes. His broad, callused hands. Every inch of his body was adored by her inner vision as she silently forced herself to say good-bye.

  The old writings that had passed through the ages with the torque told of its first owner. A proud English warrior who had wed the daughter of the Celtic Druid so many centuries before. The MacTaidhg family lands had fallen beneath the sword of the one called the Hewn Wolf. A blond-haired warrior who had found favor with the English king and been given the Irish lands and the order to conquer the wild hearts that fought against the Crown so fiercely.

  He had moved to the very heart of the land, wedding the daughter of its hidden priest, and protecting the secret that would have seen her beheaded. It was said he was a scourge of the people, until she tamed him. That she had bewitched the wolf and brought him to her feet. Though the tales Angel’s mother had told hinted that both warrior and proud Irish lass bowed to each other.

  The torque will bring the warrior destined to tame your wild heart, Angel, her mother had told her countless times. Before Megan Manning had died, she had spoken often to her daughter about the legends. Those that assured love and happiness for the female descendants of that first blessed marriage. As long as the ancient neckband stayed within the family it had been given to, then its power would remain true.

  And now it was gone. Sold by her father to the man who had stolen Angel’s heart and would be lost to her forever.

  She would begin the legacy of discontent now, rather than one of happiness.

  She blinked back her tears, raised her chin, and stared into the hazy reflection the window provided. She looked as broken as she felt. And that just wouldn’t do. She wouldn’t give others the knowledge of her pain, for surely if she did, news of it would reach Jack. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t love her, and she wanted no guilt to be heaped on him.

  Loving him had been her choice.

  “Here we are.” The cabbie stopped in front of the small hotel in the center of town. The three-story building had all the quaint charm of the West on the outside, though the inside was fully modern.

  “Thank you.” She pulled several bills from the pocket of her jeans as she stepped from the cab.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I hope your stay at the J. R. Ranch was a good one. Ol’ Jack’s not home often, so not many get to stay in that nice new house he built a few years ago.”

  “It’s a beautiful house.” She fought the burning tears behind her eyes. “Thank you again. Good day, sir.”

  She moved away from him quickly, heading inside the hotel and to her room. The dark wood lobby was decorated in the style of the Old West. Heavy brocades and large pieces of furniture.

  She passed through it, for once taking no time to admire the unique decorations. Her room was on the third floor, and if she hurried, she would have time to shower and pack before heading to the airport and the late flight she had booked back to Ireland.

  Entering the elevator, she moved to the back corner, wrapping her arms around her as she lowered her head to stare at the rust-brown carpeting beneath her feet.

  She missed him. She ached for him.

  Leaving him was ripping her soul apart …

  *

  Hotel security in Madison, Texas, could really suck. Jack slid the stolen key card through its computerized pad, waited for the green light, then eased it slowly open. Few people thought to use the metal latch on the other side to prevent access. He wondered if Angel had been diligent enough to use hers.

  Nope. The door eased fully open, not even a squeak of the hinges to give away his presence.

  The bathroom door at the side of the entrance was closed, the sound of the shower running assuring him that Angel was suitably busy. A slow, wicked grin crossed his lips as he closed the door behind him, sliding the latch over onto its metal peg to assure privacy. He didn’t want one of the housekeepers coming in at the wrong time in the morning.

  Moving farther into the room, he set the duffel bag on the bed, quickly opened it, and began preparations for Angel’s final fall. She might think she was leaving him, but he was going to show her differently.

  Soft, padded cuffs attached to long chains came first. Looping the ends of the small chains to the bed legs, he clipped them in place before laying the padded cuffs on the pillows. Next were the ankle cuffs, which he arranged at the lower corners after securing them.

  The tube of lubrication was laid on the table along with nipple clips, a dildo, and a butt plug
. Finally, he undressed, folding his clothing neatly before sliding them into one of the empty drawers of the dresser by the bed. He was going to play, and Angel was going to be his personal little toy in the games he had planned.

  The shower shut off.

  Smiling in anticipation, Jack moved to hide along the wall, waiting until she walked through the short hallway.

  It didn’t take long. A few short minutes later, he heard the bathroom door open and watched as her shadow neared. Emotions swamped him in those fragile seconds. Possessiveness, love, love unlike anything he could have imagined, and tenderness.

  She stepped past him.

  Moving quickly he came behind her, his arms sweeping around her, pulling her around, giving her only a second to glimpse his face before his lips lowered to hers. But he had glimpsed hers as well. Her eyes reddened, tear-drenched, her cheeks pale, her expression miserable.

  “Shh,” he whispered against her lips as her lips opened to cry out. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all okay now…”

  One hand cupped her cheek as his chest clenched at the dampness he felt there. He had made her cry. Pain streaked through him at the thought of that.

  “Don’t cry, Angel-mine,” he whispered, sipping at her lips, his tongue stroking over the swollen curves as her breath hitched, a small, strangled sob coming from her as her hands gripped his arms, her nails biting into the flesh. “No more tears, baby. Only this. Only this.”

  His lips swallowed the words, parting her lips, his tongue driving deep as he maneuvered her slowly to the bed, holding her to him as he lifted her to the center before laying her back.

  He ignored the gasping little moans that left her throat. Rather than allowing her voice to her questions, he snapped the cuffs on one wrist. She jerked beneath him as he did the same to the other.

  Then he released her lips, staring at the kiss-reddened flesh with a sense of satisfaction.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was hoarse as she tested the strength of the chains.

  Jack moved back, going to her ankles, chuckling as she kicked out at him.

  “Jack, have you lost your mind?” Another question. She struggled furiously as he restrained her ankles, testing the length of the chain for enough freedom of movement to allow him his play. She could bend her knees, but she wasn’t going anyplace. She couldn’t turn from him, nor would she be able to writhe from his grip.

  “Let me go!” she snarled up at him, her violet eyes still damp with tears as she fought against the restraints. “Do you think this will solve anything? That it will make it better?” Her voice trembled. “For God’s sake. Don’t hurt me like this, Jack.”

  He sighed, shaking his head in chastisement as he watched her.

  “Shame on you, Angel, thinking I would just let you walk away,” he said gently, amazed at how free he suddenly felt, at the joy that rose inside him.

  He had no idea how much he did love her, how much he had loved her before he ever left Ireland. Until now, staring into her pain-ridden gaze and seeing a reflection of the pain he couldn’t explain within himself, he hadn’t a clue how much she meant to him.

  She opened her lips to berate him further when her gaze fell on the torque circling his neck. Her eyes widened then, a gasp leaving her lips as shock filled her eyes.

  “I won’t let you go,” he whispered then. “Not ever, Angel-mine.”

  Then he lowered his head, taking her lips in a kiss that swamped him with pleasure, with emotion, with a sense of coming home.

  Angel moaned beneath his kiss, her lips parting for him, her tongue tangling with him as he began to sip at her lips, to nibble and stroke as he inflamed every cell in her body with the pleasure.

  He was the dream. The one who had tormented her for so many years. And now she knew why she had never been able to look beyond the torque to see his face. Why she had been filled with such a sense of wonder and overpowering emotions. Because she had given up on the dream, just as she had given up on the torque. Only to learn that the man and the neckband went hand in hand.

  “Jack.” She moaned his name as his head lifted, his eyes, brilliant blue and filled with arrogant assurance, meeting hers.

  “I love you.” He whispered the words she had felt certain she would never hear from him. “I’ve waited a lifetime to say those words, Angel. Searched until my soul grew weary with disappointment. I’ll not let you leave me.”

  She wanted to wrap her arms around him. Wanted to hold him to her and laugh aloud in overwhelming relief.

  “Let me go.” She jerked at the restraints. “I want to hold you, Jack.”

  He grinned. A devilish, wicked curve of his lips that had her lips parting in excitement.

  “Not yet, baby,” he growled. “We’re going to play tonight. For hours and hours and hours. And when morning comes, you’re going to be too damned tired to even consider leaving. You won’t remember your name, let alone any desire to walk away from me.”

  She wasn’t going anywhere now. She nearly whispered those words then held them back at the last second. What had he said about playing? Would her pleasure be better served in allowing him his way?

  Well, duh, as the American students said. Of course it would be.

  She relaxed back upon the pillows.

  “Do your worst,” she whispered, smiling herself as his eyes narrowed at her challenge. “But I bet I still remember my name well.”

  ELEVEN

  “What’s your name, baby?” Jack’s voice was tight, hoarse, as she twisted beneath him, writhing beneath the steady penetration of the dildo filling her pussy as the plug in her rear stretched her unbearably.

  She was on fire. She could feel the flames burning through her body more than an hour later as she begged, pleaded for release. He was killing her. He had been steadily killing her since the first kiss, making her beg for more when she swore she could take no more of the blistering torment.

  She was panting; perspiration covered her, dampened her hair, her flesh, and the comforter beneath her body. Still, Jack lay between her thighs, fucking her slow and easy with the fake cock as she fought to get closer to him.

  His tongue was a demon. It was evil. No pleasure such as this should be possible.

  He licked his way around the straining nub of her clit, flickering over it with devilish disregard for her hoarse cries as she arched closer to him, only to have him pull back.

  “Please,” she panted. “For mercy’s sake, please … please…”

  “What’s your name?” he whispered again, pushing the dildo deeper inside her, forcing her to take it to the very depths of her pussy as her muscles spasmed around it, her juices flowing, her cunt weeping with the overwhelming need to orgasm.

  She had held out as long as she could.

  She tried to scream as one hand moved up, fingers tugging at the clips attached to her swollen nipples and sending pulsing fingers of sensation raking along her nerve endings to the overly sensitive depths of her cunt.

  Her back arched, her head shaking as he sucked her clit into his mouth once again, never truly touching it, merely surrounding the swollen knot of nerves with moist heat.

  It was almost enough. But in this game, almost counted for nothing.

  “This is unfair,” she wailed, a moan tearing from her throat as the dildo moved with slow precision until only the head rested inside her, stretching her opening, burning her before sliding back once again.

  “Harder, damn you. Fuck me properly.” She nearly screamed the words. She would have screamed them if she had the breath to do so.

  “What’s your name?” he whispered again, licking over her clit as every muscle in her body clenched at the nearness of release. “Tell me, baby. Do you remember your name?”

  “Yes.” She stared up at him then, her eyes dazed. “Jack’s. I’m Jack’s. Whatever he wishes to call me, whenever … For pity’s sake, Jack … Please…”

  He moved before the words were out of her mouth. The dildo pulled free of her body, ca
using her to arch, her feet bracing on the bed as she lifted, attempting to follow it.

  Oh God, she was so empty. Too empty. She was dying …

  “There, baby,” he whispered as he came over, the head and steel-hard perfection of his swollen cock nudging against the opening of her pussy. “Feel how much better this is.”

  He pushed inside her.

  Better? It was nirvana. It was ecstasy, rapture, it was fucking incredible.

  She shook, trembling so hard her teeth nearly chattered as she stared up at him, feeling him push into the tightened channel of her pussy, passing the heavy weight of the plug still anchored in her rear, making her muscles grip him so snugly she wondered that there was room for him.

  But he made room, working his cock inside her like a knife through melting butter as he penetrated the syrup-slick confines of her cunt.

  Electricity whipped around her. It sizzled in the air, crackled along her flesh, preparing her for the explosion building with her. One she wasn’t certain she would survive.

  “Look at me, Angel,” he whispered when her eyes began to drift closed. “Look at me, baby, let me see those pretty eyes when you come around my cock. Watch me, sweetheart…”

  And he began to move.

  Each powerful, straining thrust had his pelvis raking against her clit as his erection burrowed hard and deep inside her. The thick length stretched her, burned her, sent her senses careening as her cry tore from her throat.

  Her eyes widened as his strokes increased in speed, his hips slamming against hers as his face twisted into a mask of pleasure.

  “God, I love you,” he growled as his head lowered, his teeth tugging at one nipple clip as the fingers of his hand tugged at the other.

  The additional flare of sensation, the destructive pleasure ripping through her, undid her.

  Angel arched, her breath catching in her throat as she began to shudder, feeling the tension exploding within her as her pussy seemed to melt around him. Her clit pulsed, throbbed, then followed in the wake, sending brilliant arcs of fire to burn through her senses as she burned beneath him, only distantly aware of his release as well.