Picture Perfect Cowboy: An Original Sinners Novel

by Reisz, Tiffany

  “Five minutes,” he said. “Starting now.”

  As he left the bedroom he saw her jump out of the bed.

  “I have no clothes,” she said.

  “Not my problem,” he called back.

  He smiled all the way down the stairs. There were worse things in life than driving a sexy girl up the wall before breakfast.

  Jason had just poured the coffee when Simone appeared in the kitchen wearing one of his flannel shirts from his closet, a pair of his socks, and nothing else.

  “You stole my panties,” she said when he looked her up and down over the top of his coffee mug.

  “I’m keeping ‘em, too,” he said. “What are you wearing under there?”

  “Boxers,” she said and lifted her shirt to show him. “Yours, sir.”

  “Cute. Real cute. I guess we need to get your luggage out of the car.”

  “I don’t know. I like wearing your clothes,” she said. “Nice and cozy.”

  “We got another option,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I could keep you naked all week.”

  He was pleased to see that idea didn’t horrify her.

  “If that’s what you want,” she said with a smile. “Sir.”

  “You’d get cold.”

  “Not if you kept me warm.”

  “You--” he pointed at her with his mug--“are killing me.”

  She raised her hands in feigned innocence. “Oops? Sorry?”

  “You’re about as sorry as I am. You get breakfast started. I assume you know how to cook bacon and eggs?”

  “I can handle that.”

  “And I’ll get your things out of your car,” he said. “Can’t have you running around the farm naked. I got good Christian neighbors.”

  Simone was already digging through his fridge when he went to put his boots on to fetch her things from her car. Her car keys were on the kitchen table. As he walked to her car, he realized that at any point yesterday evening, last night, or this morning, she could have put her clothes on, her shoes—also still in the kitchen—and grabbed her keys and left.

  But she hadn’t left. He’d spanked her and cropped her, woken her up in the dead of night for the sole purpose of fucking her, and now he’d ordered her to cook them breakfast while he brought her things in. He’d even struck her so hard—accidentally—that she’d bled a little bit. And not once had she even hinted that she was thinking about running for it.

  She was here. She was his—for the time being.

  And she was sticking around.

  He’d thought for sure that if he ever told a girl he liked what he was into, what he fantasized about, what he knew he needed if he was ever going to fall in love and stay in love, that girl would run for the hills like a pack of wild dogs was nipping at her heels. The girls in his fantasies were always crying, begging, pleading for mercy when he turned them over his knee or spanked them or forced them to perform sex acts on him and for him. He never knew there were women who’d sign up for that and do it with a smile.

  But Simone had, and she was still there, in his kitchen, cooking breakfast and smiling because he’d come back with her things, and she was happy to see him.

  “Orange juice?” she asked.

  “Just coffee.”

  She poured the coffee and put the plates on the table.

  “I could get used to this,” he said as he sat her down at the table and took his seat opposite her.

  “Someone to cook breakfast?” she asked. “I’m not that good of a cook.”

  “No, I mean, I could get used to feeling this good every morning. Instead of…I don’t know, feeling alone all the time.”

  Simone gave him a soft-eyed smile. She really was awfully sweet.

  “Mistress Nora told me there’s different kinds of loneliness,” she said. “There’s the lonely where you’re lonely for someone else. But there’s also a kind of loneliness where you’re lonely for your real self. You think you’re missing someone in your life and it turns out it’s you. Maybe you felt alone so much because you had to hide the real Jason from yourself for so long.”

  “Maybe so,” he said. “It’s kind of nice getting to be me.”

  “He’s not such a bad guy,” Simone said between bites of eggs over easy.

  “I thought he was.”

  Simone shrugged. “I won’t lie to you,” she said. “Lots of women wouldn’t like this. Being spanked by a guy as strong as you hurts. Blow jobs on command are not something a lot of women are 100% into. And being woken up at three in the morning so your guy can f…have sex with you would not fly in a lot of relationships. But, lucky for you, it flies with me.”

  “It flies, does it?”

  “Like a 747.”

  “Why do you like it so much?” he asked.

  “You really want to know?”

  “I asked.”

  “Well, truth is, the reason I like it so much is…I’m awesome.”

  He laughed. “That so?”

  “You think it’s awesome, right? At least certain parts of you seem to think so?”

  “And my opinion counts that much?”

  “We’re the only two people who exist in our little private world, remember? If I think I’m awesome and you think I’m awesome, who’s to argue?”

  “That’s a damn good point,” he said and went to work devouring his breakfast, which was better than he expected from a New Yorker.

  “Can I tell you something else, sir?” Simone asked a minute or so later.

  “I suppose you can.”

  “I think you’re awesome, too.”

  She said it teasingly like the adorable tease she was, but it hit Jason hard right in the gut.

  “Do you know how many women have said stuff like that to me?” he asked her.

  Her eyes flashed wide. “A lot?”

  He nodded. “You win big trophies and you win big money and you get a couple commercials for trucks, and girls who knew you six days in the fifth grade show up at your events and shove their phone numbers in your pocket while they’re whispering in your ear how much they want to fuck you. I had girls offer me their prettier sisters if I’d take them first. I had a mom offer me herself and her daughter. Why is that when they say stuff like that to me, I think they’re blowing smoke in my eyes and with you…with you I think I almost believe it?”

  “Just like we talked about last night,” Simone said. “People will say they respect ‘women’ and what they actually respect is some fantasy ideal of women that has almost nothing in common with the real women all around them. Those women who hit on you were like that. You were a fantasy to them, this famous rugged champion who never had a scared or insecure moment in his life. They were talking to the fantasy cowboy they saw. I was talking to Jason Waters sitting at this table with me. That’s why you should believe me. And what you should believe is there’s nothing wrong with what you are and a whole lot right with it. You might not be the sort of man for every woman out there but you are definitely a good man who is very sexy and a lot of fun to be with. And even more fun to serve, be it breakfast or blow jobs.”

  She ended her little speech with a toss of her hair and a too-innocent-to-be-believed smile.

  Jason laughed. “Breakfast or blow jobs?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What about breakfast and blow jobs?” he asked.

  “What about it, sir? Sounds like a good morning to me.”

  Jason put his fork down and sat back in his chair. “Come here,” he said. He pointed at the floor.

  Simone stood up and gracefully knelt at his feet.

  Jason unbuttoned his jeans.

  She licked her lips and wrapped her mouth around his cock and sucked it until it was rock hard.

  He could get used to mornings like this.

  Eleven

  Simone’s handsome master was oh-so-kind enough to allow her to finish getting cleaned up and dressed while he did the breakfast dishes. She was happy to see the lit
tle smile on his face as she left him in the kitchen at the sink. She dug through her bag and found her black leggings, a mostly clean red V-neck t-shirt and her favorite gray hoodie. She put on her makeup, tamed her hair, and made Jason’s bed. While tucking in the corners, she eyed his pile of trophies. Maybe while she was here, she could help Jason figure out a better place for them than stacked on the floor.

  Before heading out the door she checked her phone for messages. Nothing important, thank goodness. She was having the time of her life here and she prayed the real world would mind its own business for a few days. Just to be on the safe side, Simone sent her friend Nora a text giving her all the details of where she was and who she was with. She trusted Jason and doubted he’d hurt a fly, but she’d been trained to make sure someone always knew where she was, especially if kink was involved. Nora must have been awake already because she typed a reply immediately.

  “What the hell is it about Kentucky?” Nora replied with a few shocked face emojis plus a horse or two. “Got to be something in the water there. I had killer wall sex in Kentucky once. You?”

  “Bed and floor only. Walls are next.”

  “Nice. You like this guy?” Nora wrote back.

  “Amazing spanker,” Simone wrote. Then a more serious message followed. “I think I could fall for him.” Those were the scariest seven words she’d ever typed into a tiny message box on an iPhone.

  “Don’t do it!” Nora replied. “Or do it. Just googled him. He’s pretty. Fall for him and make sure he falls for you, too.”

  “That’s not helping,” Simone replied. “I’m trying not to fall in love with him.”

  “If he’s nice, sexy, and knows how to spank, what’s stopping you?”

  Fair question.

  Jason had ordered her to come out to the barn when she was finished getting ready. He’d cautioned her to wear shoes that would be easy to clean off. Maybe he was planning on making her clean out horse shit from the stalls. She decided against her white canvas sneakers and put on her leather boots instead. They weren’t quite cowboy boots but they looked pretty darn good with leggings.

  Simone pushed open the large barn door and found Jason standing outside a stall with a horse’s head resting on his shoulder. Jason was brushing the horse’s mane while he spoke in a low, soothing voice to the seemingly blissed-out animal.

  “Who’s your friend?” Simone asked as she came up to the stall.

  “This is Cupcake,” Jason said. “Cupcake, this is Simone.”

  “Can I pet her?” Simone asked.

  “Put your hand out, palm down, and let her sniff it first.”

  Simone did as ordered. She grinned as Cupcake’s hot horsy breath tickled the back of her hand. “Now you can pet her. Just stand to the side of her head, not in front, so she can see you better.”

  “Hi, Cupcake,” Simone said as she reached over the stall door to gently stroke the horse along the side of her head and long neck.

  “Cupcake here is a Welsh pony,” Jason said. “Thirteen hands, which is pretty big for a Welshie.”

  “Pretty coat,” Simone said. “A blonde.”

  “Buckskin,” Jason said. “Cupcake belongs to a little girl named Katie who is getting her in one week for her eleventh birthday.”

  “Lucky Katie,” Simone said.

  “Katie’s recovering from brain surgery after a car accident,” Jason said, “and she’s had a hard time learning how to talk again. But for some reason, she’ll talk to horses. She lights up around them so her parents want her to have her own.”

  “Ah, so Cupcake’s a therapy horse?”

  “Right,” Jason said. “And that’s where you come in. Cupcake here’s never been ridden by anyone of the female persuasion. We need to get her used to being around girls since she’s going to have a girl of her own in a week. You want to take Cupcake for a spin? It would be doing me and Katie a favor.”

  “Count me in,” Simone said.

  “You ever ridden a horse before?”

  “Nope.”

  “Perfect,” Jason said. “Neither has Katie. You stand here by her head and talk to her and pet her while I saddle her up. Cupcake’s gonna have to get used to a lot of female attention.”

  Jason led her into the stall and Simone did as instructed. Easiest orders she ever followed. Pet a pony and talk to it? Sign her up for that.

  “Hi, Cupcake,” Simone said as she ran her hand up and down the horse’s long jawline. “You’re cute. I hope Master Jason’s been good to you. Does he give you treats? He gives me lots of treats.”

  “What are you telling that pony about me?” Jason asked as he put a blanket across Cupcake’s back.

  “We’re having some girl talk,” Simone said. “So it’s none of your business, Mister.”

  Cupcake blew through her lips, making a “pppbbbt” sound.

  “See?” Simone said. “Even Cupcake says to mind your own.”

  “I’m minding my own,” Jason said, throwing the saddle on the pony’s back.

  “I’ve never ridden a pony before,” Simone said. “Although I’ve done a little pony-play. Does that count? Probably not. I’ve worn a saddle but never been in a saddle. First time for everything.”

  Simone looked over and saw Jason staring at her with one eyebrow about an inch higher than the other.

  “You want me to explain pony-play to you?” she asked him.

  “Let me think about that and get back to you,” he said. “You ready to ride?”

  “Ready, sir. You ready, Cupcake? I never ride anyone without their consent first.”

  Cupcake batted her palm playfully.

  “I think that’s a yes,” Simone said.

  “That’s a yes,” Jason said. “Now I’m going to take her out to the paddock by the lead rope. I want you walking by my side, not behind her. Never get behind her. Then you’ll get in the saddle. We’ll do a few laps with me leading. You don’t do anything but keep your hands on the saddle horn. I’m gonna be there the entire time. You want to stop and get off at any point just say the word—”

  “Jellybeans,” Simone said.

  “That’ll do. If for some reason, you feel yourself starting to fall, just fall. Land on your ass and roll away from Cupcake. Happens to everybody at least once riding. Don’t fight the fall, and you’ll get nothing more than a bruise or two if that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then you get back on the horse right away, or you’ll be scared of horses the rest of your life.”

  “Got it.”

  Simone walked next to Jason as he led Cupcake out of her stall and into a round, fenced-in field which he called the paddock. The three of them simply walked one turn around the paddock together while Simone kept up the chatter with Jason and Cupcake. That was one of Jason’s orders, too. Horses needed to get used to noise, to voices, to being startled so they could remain calm under stressful circumstances. Even more important for a pony like Cupcake who would soon belong to a little girl who’d never ridden before.

  “Has Katie met Cupcake yet?”

  “Oh yeah,” Jason said. “Her parents asked me to find a couple candidates to be Katie’s pony. They brought her out here to meet them and Cupcake was the horse Katie latched onto. I think it’s going to be a good match.”

  “It’s nice her parents can afford a horse and lessons and stuff. That’s gotta add up.”

  Jason shrugged. “They’re not rich but they have the barn and enough acreage to support a horse. That’s all we ask.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Nobody.”

  Simone eyed Jason suspiciously.

  “Who is we, Master Jason?” she asked again. She knew calling him “Master” would do the trick.

  “Oh, just a little thing me and a couple local families got going.”

  “Like a charity thing?” Simone asked. Jason shrugged. “Did you buy Cupcake for Katie?”

  “Ponies don’t cost much.”

  Simone laughed. “You totally bought a p
ony for a little girl. That’s the sweetest thing ever.”

  “Don’t have any kids yet,” Jason said. “Gotta spoil somebody. You ready to get in the saddle?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Left side,” Jason said. “Left side on. Left side off. Every time. No exceptions. Left hand holds a tuft of mane. Left foot in the stirrup, right leg pushes up and swings over.”

  “Left foot in the stirrup,” Simone repeated. “Right leg pushes up and swings.”

  “Fast and smooth,” Jason said. “Don’t think about it. Just do it.”

  Simone didn’t think about it. She just did it. She pushed off with her right foot and swung her leg over Cupcake’s back. Before she realized she’d done it, she sat in the saddle.

  “Wow, it’s high up here,” she said. She immediately felt wobbly.

  “Yeah, and this is a little ole pony,” Jason said. “You’d get the bends if you tried this on Rusty.”

  “Am I doing everything right?” Simone asked.

  “So far. Put both your hands right there on the saddle horn,” Jason said. Simone obeyed. “Now sit up straight as an arrow. Imagine you got an iron bar down the back of your shirt. Head against the bar. Shoulders against the bar. Tailbone against the bar.”

  “Wish I had my corset on,” Simone said. “That would help with my posture.”

  “You got a corset?” Jason asked.

  “Never leave home without it,” she said. “Remember when I told you I did a little fetish modeling?”

  “Yeah…” He sounded intrigued.

  “Well, you put me in a corset and I turn into an hourglass so I make a pretty good corset model. I can show you the pictures. I take most of them myself.”

  “Corsets are a fetish?”

  “For some people. Lots of dominant men like to truss up their ladies in corsets. It’s very sexy to be corseted.”

  “And you said you have one with you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  Jason smiled up at her. She loved that smile.

  “Now I know what I’m doing with you tonight,” he said, a threat and a promise. Simone got very warm inside at the thought of Jason yanking her laces tight. “Now I want you to sit there and look pretty while I lead Cupcake around.”