“Yes, Ainsley and I have crossed paths a few times,” Bennett drawled.
“Right, probably about Chase’s event.”
“Speaking of Chase’s event, Ainsley, I’d like to run a couple of ideas past you.”
Her mouth and brain were frozen.
“I’m gonna snag that table in the back,” Libby said. “Nice seeing you, Joely. Nice to meet you, Ainsley.”
Bennett said, “Either of you ladies need a drink while I grab a beer?”
“No. I’m good. Ainsley?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Damn man, bossing her in public.
As soon as Bennett left, Joely leaned across the table. “Bad poker face. You are totally banging him. The elusive, sexy Ben McKay is your local hook-up, isn’t he?”
“What?”
“Don’t deny it. Up top.” Joely held her hand up for a high-five. “Kudos to you for getting some of that hot cowboy ass while the getting is good.”
Ainsley slapped Joely’s hand. “This is so far under the radar it’s underground.”
“No worries. I live my life under the radar.” She slipped out of the booth. “Thanks for an entertaining evening. I hope we can do it again soon.”
She said, “Me too,” and meant it.
“I’ve got your number, you’ve got mine. Let’s set up something fun once the bank business is out of the way.”
“Deal.”
Ainsley waited for Ben to return, feeling resentful about his command. In public. Then she thought, screw it, and started to leave.
But he blocked her in. “I wondered how long you’d sit there before showing your insubordination.” He swigged from his beer. “Or should I say more insubordination.”
“We didn’t have plans tonight.”
“You sure? Did you call me to double-check?”
She refused to back down. “I wasn’t aware I needed your approval to have a business dinner with a bank client.”
“Which is true. So your bank business with the doc is done?”
Say no.
Bennett leaned close enough to get her attention. “You really gonna lie to me?”
“We just finished. I’m going home.”
He shook his head.
“You were serious about discussing Chase’s event?”
He shook his head.
“Stop that.”
He shook his head. “Know why I came to town?”
Ainsley tapped her finger on the table. “Hmm. Does it involve handing me a paddle since I’m up shit creek? Or are you just going to paddle me?”
“You’re not getting off that easy this time.” He kept that smoldering Dom stare on her. “I’m still ticked off at you for the way you compared yourself to my saddle.”
“If the stirrup fits…”
He growled. “You tryin’ to piss me off?”
“No. But this is your pissed-off face? Because it looks the same as when you’re happy—or when you’re turned on—to me.”
Wrong taunt, Ainsley.
“Do you really feel I use you?”
“Yeah. Sometimes I do.”
An emotion she’d never seen flitted through those beautiful dark eyes. “Get your stuff and plan on spending the night at my house.”
“If I say I don’t want to?”
“Then say your safe word. You won’t see me again.”
She stared at him. He stared back. No surprise she dropped their mind-fuck connection first. “I don’t want to say my safe word.”
“Then you’d better do as you’re told, hadn’t you?”
Ainsley looked up but he was already walking away.
She wasn’t prepared for this side of Bennett.
He had no time for pleasantries or conversation when she showed up at his house. He simply asked her to repeat her safe word. Twice.
When he told her to strip, kneel at his bedroom door and wait for him, she had her first real feeling of trepidation since she’d agreed to be his submissive. Sometime in the last week, she’d even wondered if Bennett was acting. Playing the part of being a dominant man. That when she really got to know him, he’d drop that aggressive role and just be a demanding lover.
But this man wasn’t acting. This man was pure, full on dominant male about to mete out punishment to his sub. Why was she kneeling, waiting for his return? He knew she hated the subservience aspect of Dom/sub relationships. Another thought made her stomach roil. What would she do if he slipped a collar on her? Bennett had only allowed her one hard line. He’d told her anything else he wanted to do to her was fair game. The idea of being collared like one of his dogs had her head screaming her safe word and urging her to run.
No. Stay put, stay calm. You can do this. There’s a lesson in here in here for you. Bennett isn’t a cruel Dom, you know that.
Did she?
Immediately upon his return to his bedroom, after making her wait for twenty minutes, he’d secured her, naked, and stretched her out, face down, spread-eagle on his mattress. He used a riding crop on her butt, letting it glance across her thighs. Twice he’d stopped to see if she needed to use her safe word. Asking in that firm, gentle voice that somehow offered her reassurance, even as it kept her clinging to the edge.
Ainsley shook her head and bore his punishment, wondering why his attention wasn’t having the usual effect of turning her on. Wondering why she felt so disjointed.
Then Bennett changed the configuration of the ropes and kept her bound in his bed, but added a blindfold for variety.
When he maneuvered her body how he preferred, she knew he’d fuck her however he preferred. As many times as he preferred.
The first time he fucked her mouth, angling her head off the bed so she could deep throat him. He came partially in her mouth, partially on her face.
No soothing touches in the aftermath. Usually he touched or kissed her mouth, murmuring how sexy her lips looked swollen from sucking his cock.
The second time he fucked her breasts. Pinching her nipples to the surprising edge of pain she craved that usually sent her soaring. But he’d stopped. He squeezed her breasts around his cock and slid his shaft faster and faster until he ejaculated on her chest. But again, no praise from her Dom, no promises that her compliance would be rewarded. It was all about him.
Ainsley drifted into a place where she almost could see the events happening from outside her body. She felt nothing. No pride, no shame, no excitement, no gratitude. None of the usual submissive high where she knew her acquiescence would please him. Where she knew her total surrender was prized by him and he’d gift her with an explosive orgasm.
The third time he fucked her pussy, bringing her leg straight up as he drove into her from the side. Keeping her blindfolded and bound. But he had fingered her clit, with almost clinical detachment, and got her off.
No sweet kisses, or whispered words or loving touching. Just fucking. His way.
The last time he’d brought her ankles up and attached them to her bound hands. She’d laid face down on the mattress, her body pinned like a butterfly, unable to move at all as he’d lubed her back channel with his fingers and then rammed his cock into her ass without pause.
This was what she’d feared Bennett would become. Unyielding. Aggressive and unwilling to provide her with any type of comfort or explanation as he took what he wanted. Reinforcing to her what it meant to be submissive. Reminding her who had the power and the control.
The scenes had happened in such rapid succession, she had no idea how much time had passed when Bennett finally untied her.
If she’d had the strength in her legs, she might’ve run.
If she hadn’t been so confused by Bennett’s sudden change, becoming the caring Dom she recognized, she might’ve shaken off his loving touches. But he’d shown a Dom’s care. Massaging blood back into her limbs. Caressing the spots where the rope had abraded her skin. Running those rough hands over her body, not with pu
nishment, but with reverence.
Ainsley’s instinct was to give into the sleepiness. She didn’t want to ask him what she’d done to deserve that treatment. He was accustomed to her reluctance to discuss a scene immediately after it ended. But this time she wouldn’t let it slide. She swallowed hard and managed to eke out one word. “Why?”
“So you’d know the difference.”
“Difference between what?”
He bestowed sweet kisses on her lips. “You accused me of usin’ you. What I did to you tonight? That was usin’ you. Has it ever been like that between us before?”
“No.”
“And it won’t be again.”
She broke down completely. It was hard to be humbled. But she’d needed it. Needed a reminder of what Bennett really was—a dominant man to the bone. But he wasn’t a taker. He wasn’t a user. She’d signed on for this experience as his submissive. Bennett was who he was. A Dom. A teacher. A taskmaster. This was how he’d be to the next sub in line after their thirty days together ended. She’d never be special to him.
That made her sob harder.
“Come on, angel. Let it out. I’ve got you.”
Bennett’s hands were in constant motion over every inch of her bare skin. He nuzzled, touched and murmured to her. Using his entire being to soothe her.
But it didn’t help. When she began to shake, not even the inferno of his skin against hers warmed her. He practically carried her to the shower. Holding her beneath the blessedly hot water as the jets pummeled her sore muscles and the steam thawed her from the outside in.
And when the tremors ended, she let the last tears fall, feeling more vulnerable now than any other time with him.
Run. Get out of here now and don’t look back.
“I’m okay,” she lied in a whisper against his chest.
“You sure? We can stay in here as long as you need.”
“I’m sure.”
With those long, muscular arms, he grabbed towels hanging from the racks. He tied one turban-style around her head. Dried her thoroughly with the other, and wrapped a bath sheet around her body. He led her back into the bedroom and wrapped her with his robe before tucking her between the covers.
Bennett gathered her in his arms and piled another blanket on top of them.
“I’m still so cold.”
“You’re not cold. You’re shaken. And it’s my…” Resting his chin on the top of her head, he said gruffly, “Never mind. It’ll keep. Sleep.”
But she couldn’t sleep. When she wiggled out of his arms, he let her. When she crept out of his house a few hours later, he let her do that too.
Chapter Sixteen
“What’re you so pissy about today?”
Ben scowled at Quinn. “I’m not pissy.”
“Yeah, you always stomp around and throw shit.”
“Fine. I’m in a bad mood. Can we leave it at that and get this damn thing fixed?”
Quinn sighed. “This is beyond what either of us can fix.” He kicked the tire. “Let’s load it up and take it to D and F.”
Ben bit back a snarl. His brother might’ve said that, oh, an hour ago when they first started dicking with the ATV. “I’ll go get the trailer.” But when he got to the backside of the barn, he saw both tires were flat. “Son of a bitch.” They only had one spare. Which meant they’d have to take both tires off and see if they were salvageable.
A shadow appeared beside him. “Guess I shoulda checked that before now, huh?”
“Probably.” Ben pushed upright. “I’ll get the jack.”
The tire had settled into the ground on the opposite side, making Ben wonder when was the last time they’d used the trailer.
Out of the blue, Quinn said, “Is it woman trouble? Because only woman trouble puts a look like that on a man’s face. Trust me, I know.”
The jack clanked. “Why you doin’ this?”
“Doin’ what? Talkin’ to you? I’m pretty sure you ain’t talkin’ to nobody else about this.”
Ben grunted.
“Come on. You don’t gotta give me her name, but this is eatin’ at you, bro.”
Eating at him was putting it mildly. He’d had a hollow feeling in his gut that felt a lot like shame. “I did something…that didn’t seem wrong at the time, but now I’m feeling guilty about it.” He’d taken the harshest stance imaginable with Ainsley—a new sub—showing her what it really meant to be used. Using sex as punishment.
You think she might’ve been upset? Since she didn’t want you to touch her and she left in the middle of the fucking night?
What the fuck had he been thinking?
Because after seeing Ainsley’s flood of tears before she fled, he had an acute sense of failure. As a man. As a lover. As a Dom. For the first time ever, he’d questioned his actions. His rights as her dominant. Whether he’d tried to break a woman, instead of breaking through a woman’s barriers. Whether he’d been punishing her out of his frustration with her.
The fact he was so upset he couldn’t think straight, or concentrate, indicated he’d stepped over the line. And it sliced his guts to ribbons that she hadn’t said her safe word.
“Ben?”
He looked up at Quinn. “Sorry. Did you say something?”
“Just wondering how long ago this happened?”
“Seems a helluva lot longer than just last night.”
Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that why you volunteered to take Libby to town last night? To meet up with her?”
“Yeah.”
“Man, you don’t give an inch. And people say I’m closemouthed? You’ve got me beat by a country mile. Have you tried talkin’ to her about it?”
“Not yet.”
“But you do plan to, right?”
Ben tossed the socket to the ground. “I guess.”
“That oughta go over well, if you’re as forthcoming with her as you’ve been with me,” Quinn said dryly.
“Asshole.”
“Look, I’m just gonna toss this out there. We guys expect women to carry the emotional load in a relationship. I’ve figured out things go to hell when I’m not doin’ my part to tell Libby how I feel. Then she gets upset and won’t talk to me. It’s a damn vicious cycle and an easy one to get into.”
Quinn had hit it dead on. Ben had been so adamant about Ainsley opening up, about sharing her feelings, both in and out of bed, that he’d neglected to share his own. He’d kept her at arm’s length emotionally, even while he demanded her absolute physical obedience.
Not only did that make him a bad Dom; that made him a bad man.
But he had no idea how to fix it. He sighed. “So got any advice, Q?”
“There’s nothin’ a sincere apology can’t fix, especially if you just started seein’ her, especially if you offer it up front. Then talk to her, really talk to her.”
The thought of opening up to her scared the crap out of him. He could handle her rejection of him as a Dom. But what if he let her see Ben and she rejected that part of him? The part he didn’t share with women who shared his bed? The side of himself that wasn’t the confident dominant? The guy who felt like an outsider even in his own family?
“Flowers would help,” Quinn offered, breaking into his thoughts again.
“Thanks.”
“Is she worth it?”
“Maybe I’m not worth it,” he muttered and changed the subject. “We’re all set to ship cattle?”
“Oughta be a good year.”
“Be a nice change from the last few years.” Ben rummaged through the toolbox. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad since they’ve been in Arizona?”
“Briefly. Sounds like Gavin is gonna show up for Chase’s thing this weekend. Which means he’ll meet the rest of the McKays.”
Ben grinned. “Poor sucker don’t know what he’s in for, does he?”
Quinn grinned right back. “Nope. But speaking of McKay family gossip…”
The threat of gossip always put Ben on edge. He c
arried the fear he’d be outed as a sexual deviant to one of his many family members by someone from the club with an ax to grind—with him personally, or the McKay family as a whole. Discretion was paramount to the Rawhide’s survival. But nothing was failsafe.
Then he had another jarring thought. If Dalton knew about Rielle’s financial problems, had someone else in the McKay family also found out? And that reminded him that he still hadn’t talked to her. But with Rielle, timing was everything. If he caught her on a bad day, she’d likely warn him off her porch with a shotgun and not listen to a single word he said. Rielle trusted Ben as much as she trusted anyone, and that wasn’t much. So Dalton and Tell had to trust him to know when the time was right to approach her and he’d tell them that if they nagged him about it. “What McKay family gossip?”
“Evidently Mom, Aunt Kimi and Aunt Carolyn went to Casper to visit Aunt Joan last week, and she’s got herself a boyfriend.”
“Really? Do her sons know?”
“No idea. I sure ain’t gonna be the one to tell them.”
“I’m with ya there.” Ben released the jack and pointed to the tires. “I’ll run these into town. See if they’re salvageable.”
After the tires were loaded into the back of Ben’s truck, Quinn said, “Hope to see you in a better mood tomorrow.”
“I hope to be in a better mood tomorrow. Thanks for the advice. If it doesn’t work, I’m blaming you.”
Ainsley looked totally stunned to see him on her doorstep. Or was that fear in her eyes?
He smiled, knowing it looked as strained as it felt. “Hey, angel.”
“Hey, Bennett.”
Bennett. Not Ben. Dammit. He didn’t want to be her Dom right now.
So tell her.
“It’s Ben,” he said softly, his heart pounding with fear she’d say something about not seeing a difference.
“And so it is Ben,” she murmured, studying his face. “Would you like to come in?”
“Please.” He offered her the bouquet of flowers before he crossed the threshold. “I hope you don’t have plans. I took a chance you’d be home because I wanted to—”explain, grovel, apologize profusely, beg you not to walk away from me, “—talk.”
Cowboy Casanova: Rough Riders, Book 12 Page 17