by Desiree Holt
Rawhide:
Slapping Leather
by
Desiree Holt
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Rawhide: Slapping Leather
COPYRIGHT Ó 2011 by Desiree Holt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Tamra Westberry
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, July 2011
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
As always, to my late, great hero
who still inspires me.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Desiree Holt
AND HER BOOKS
EIGHT SECOND RIDE
“From the very first sentence of this story, I was hooked. Ms. Holt performs her magic again with EIGHT SECOND RIDE.”
~The Romance Studio
“As a follower of Ms Holt’s work I have to say that I have come to expect certain things when I pick up one of her books. Hot men, rocking sex and emotion. This kinky little title had it all.”
~Seriously Reviewed
BACK IN THE SADDLE
“I really enjoyed BACK IN THE SADDLE. It was a pretty quick read that was nice and steamy. There was some naught sex and toys that were used, but all with love and pleasure in mind. I loved the characters as they fought the past that had hurt them. Both are divorced and were emotional injured by their spouses. As they overcome their pasts that would keep them from trying again, they give in to the feelings that they have felt for each other for a long time.”
~Night Owl Reviews
“BACK IN THE SADDLE by Desiree Holt is the perfect book for readers who prefer their cowboys with a little extra kink.”
~Long and Short Reviews
Chapter One
The Texas summer sun beat down like a blast furnace, the faint breeze doing little except to stir the rich scents of horseflesh, earth and hay. Elizabeth Gillibrand had been working a new cutting horse in the corral and she was tired, dirty and sweaty. Her clothes stuck to her like a second skin, her jeans, the tank top and the work shirt she wore knotted over it. She took off her straw hat, fanned herself and jammed the hat back on her head. Right now the shower she’d been thinking of all day was looking mighty damn good.
“Hey, Liz.” Scotty Masters, her lead trainer, walked out of the nearest barn. “Another horse trailer’s coming down the road. Where do you want it?”
She turned from where she stood at the corral fence and watched the big pickup hauling the trailer approach with wings of dust pluming behind it. They hadn’t had rain for so long everything around was drier and hotter than hell. She looked back at Scotty and shrugged.
“We’ve only got one empty stall in the first barn right now,” she told him. “Let’s get her unloaded and see if she likes her new home.”
She knew without seeing it that the logo on the side of the truck was just one word. Stanton. That’s all it needed. In their small community everyone knew who the Stantons were. Money. Power. Politics. Whatever. And Dean and Loretta Stanton were indulging their daughter’s burning desire to be a competitive barrel racer.
The horse was brand new. It would be up to Liz and her staff to ready her for the first sessions with young Trish, then start the girl on the arduous trek to becoming one with a horse. The key to successful barrel racing. To winning.
By the time the truck had pulled into the wide gravel parking area, Scotty stood next to her holding a clipboard.
“This gives us a full house, Liz. Think we can handle it all?”
She gave him her usually tight business smile. “We can handle anything, Scotty, and don’t you forget it.”
The Lucky L Ranch had a reputation as the place to train cutting horses and barrel racers, a reputation the late owner John Loughlin had built with hard work and sweat. When Liz came to work for him five years earlier as head trainer, she’d never expected him to become the family she’d never had. Or to have him leave the entire facility to her when he dropped dead a few months ago of a heart attack. The loss still hurt, but she hadn’t had the luxury of grieving. Not with a business to run and vultures hovering all the time.
Her practiced smile became second nature as she fought resentment from the men who now worked for her, experienced hands and trainers who’d been here longer than she had. Who hadn’t been prepared for a female boss they still saw as an interloper even after all this time. She’d never thought of herself as particularly tough, but she’d had to grow leather for a skin this past year and it was about to get on her last nerve. Why were men such assholes, anyway?
“Looks like Stanton’s got a new driver.” Scotty nodded at the man climbing out of the truck.
Liz glanced at him and nearly did a double take. Oh my hot Texas lord.
Walking toward her, with the familiar loose-hipped gait of a man who spent a lot of time on horseback, was six-foot-four of broad, well-muscled hunk. The worn jeans and a chambray work shirt with the sleeves rolled up clung to him like a second skin. As he drew closer she saw that his tanned face had a square jaw and a straight nose. When he took off his sunglasses, the hottest blue eyes she’d ever seen seemed to pierce right through her.
He held out his hand. “Alex Wright.”
“Elizabeth Gillibrand. Liz.”
She was amazed she could get her name out. And what the hell was that all about? She never reacted to a man like that. Any man. In fact, it had been so long since she’d been with any man at all, she thought she might have forgotten what they were all about. Liz couldn’t remember the last time her hormones had even recognized how sexy a man could be.
Her situation at the ranch demanded she keep herself under tight control at all times. Give one little inch and the hands just waiting for her to fail would run all over her. She didn’t seem to be able to turn off that need for personal iron discipline in a social situation, something that was beginning to worry her.
Not to mention the personal history she had no intention of ever telling anyone about. It really was history and it should stay there.
So don’t make an idiot of yourself in front of this man.
She took Alex Wright’s hand, stunned at the sizzle of electricity that raced into her body. Then he smiled at her and everything but her panties melted. Holy shit. She yanked her hand back and wiped it on her jeans. She was suddenly aware of her grimy appearance, of the way her sweat-dampened top stuck to her breasts and emphasized her nipples. Damn.
“I guess you’re new over at the Stanton place,” she babbled.
He grinned and she actually felt heat race through her.
Stop, stop, stop.
“Actually Loretta Stanton’s my sister. I happened to be at the ranch and volunteered to make the delivery. Thought it would give me a chance to see the place I’d heard so much about. Especially since my niece will be training here.”
“Oh, um, yes. Well. Uh, would you like the nickel tour?”
“Sure. Just as soon as we get Jester unloaded.”
Jester. The horse. Yes. Tend to business, Liz.
“I’ll take care of it.” Scotty was right there at her elbow. “Let’
s get the horse out of the trailer, and I’ll show Jester her new home.”
“Oh. Thanks, Scotty.”
Normally, she would have brushed him aside and taken over herself, but somehow her wits seemed to have left her and she couldn’t put two thoughts together. She stepped back while the two men let down the trailer ramp and Alex walked softly into the trailer to stand beside the horse, speaking to her soothingly. He and Scotty backed the quarter horse out slowly, then he snapped a lead onto her halter and Scotty led her into the barn.
“Come on,” Liz said, “I’ll show you the rest of the place first. By the time we finish, Jester will be settled nice and comfy.”
Liz walked Alex around the corral where one of the trainers trained a new cutting horse. In the furthest facility some of the other trainers worked with clients in the big air-conditioned indoor ring while observers watched from a high glass-enclosed gallery. She explained how they set up a training schedule and what they looked for in both horse and rider.
Then she led him through the middle barn where workers were busy grooming horses and measuring out feed. Finally, they were back in the front barn to the stall Liz had prepared for Jester. The beautiful quarter horse was munching contentedly on fresh hay.
“You have a great facility here,” Alex commented as they watched Jester.
“Thanks. I wish I could take credit for it, but that really goes to John Loughlin. He worked hard to build this.”
Alex’s face sobered. “We were all shocked when he passed away so suddenly. No one in the community was even aware he had a heart problem.”
“We weren’t either,” she said. “He was in the tack room when the attack hit. At least one of the trainers was with him.”
And what a shocking day that had been. Liz didn’t think she’d ever forget it. Even now it still gave her a sick feeling. That wonderful man, the most father she’d ever known, gone like the snap of a finger.
“He obviously had a lot of confidence in you,” Alex commented. “Leaving this place to you.”
Her defenses slammed into place. “I didn’t ask for it, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”
“Whoa. Hold on.” Alex’s killer grin kicked into place and he held up his hands. “I wasn’t implying anything. Word is you do a hell of a job here. I know Dean and Loretta wouldn’t use you if they didn’t think you were the best.”
“Sorry.” She let out a breath. “I guess I’m a little quick on the trigger.”
The smile softened, and his gaze locked onto hers. “I imagine you get a lot of people who resent what happened.”
“You have no idea.” Especially the people who work here, she wanted to say. “All I can do is my best.”
When she walked Alex back to the truck he reached into the cab and pulled out an envelope.
“Jester’s feed information, although Dean said he’d already discussed it with you.”
She nodded. “We’re all set up for the horse. The trainer will start working with her tomorrow and in about two weeks we should be ready for Trish.”
“I told her I’d be coming out to watch her now and then. I hope that’s all right.”
Coming here? This walking sex machine? She’d need plenty of ice water just to be within ten feet of him. Or maybe it was just that she’d been without sex for so long—by design—that her hormones were running wild. Either way, she’d need to watch herself around Mr. Sex-on-the-Hoof.
“Of course. We encourage family support, as a matter of fact.” She waited for him to climb back into the truck, but he just stood there, that hot gaze raking over her. “Was there something else?”
“Sure is. I was wondering if I could talk you into having dinner with me.”
Dinner? With a man? With this man? Liz wasn’t sure she’d even know how to act anymore. For one thing, when she’d taken over here, she’d put her sex life on hold. She couldn’t afford to have the men here actually see her as a woman. For another, she didn’t exactly have the best track record.
“Liz?” Alex’s voice broke into internal conversation. “I didn’t think it was such a difficult question.” He chuckled, a sound that hit every one of her nerve endings. “Or that I was so offensive I left you speechless.”
She shook herself mentally. “Sorry. Actually, sorry twice. Once for letting my mind drift and again for saying no. But thanks anyway.”
He reached out a hand and brushed a few stray hairs off her cheek. “You do have to eat, don’t you?”
Oh, god, his touch. She was going to embarrass herself by melting into him. She, Liz Gillibrand, the woman they all called Iron Pants. The woman who held a secret close inside her. No, no, no. She needed to get Alex Wright on his way in a hurry.
“I…uh…usually just grab a quick bite whenever I’m finished out here.” She took two steps backward. “Listen, thanks so much for delivering Jester. I’ll see you when you come to watch Trish.”
“I’m not giving up on my invitation,” Alex called as he climbed into the truck. “Someplace real nice. You can wear a dress.”
A dress. Just what she needed. No one within fifty miles of here was ever going to see her soft side again. Nope. Not gonna happen.
She watched him make a wide, careful turn in the broad gravel parking area and head down the long driveway to the two-lane highway. Dinner with Alex Wright was such a temptation. The problem wasn’t with dating. Dating led to sex, and Liz was sure her brand of sex wouldn’t go over here at all. She could just see Alex “Yummy” Wright head for the hills if she asked him to cuff her to the bed or bend her over the footboard and crop her.
No, she had to go far afield for her sexual pleasures. The last thing she needed was for word to get out to the men who worked for her that she was a true sexual submissive. She’d never get control of them again. Not to mention the fact that the Lucky L would probably lose most of its clients. Conservative people frowned on anything the least bit kinky. She’d found that out a long time ago, before she’d come to work for John. And she still remembered the hurt.
And then there was that one part of her past that had taught her a lesson. A bad one. The inner scars had never really healed, and she was sure her heart was permanently damaged. Too many opportunities for disaster if she gave in to her needs. But holy hell, she sure did miss it.
Sighing, she walked back into the barn to Jester’s stall, leaning her forearms on the door.
“Well, girl, I hope I don’t embarrass either of us when that sex god shows up to see you go through your paces.”
Yes, she’d really have to watch herself there. Alex Wright was the biggest temptation to cross her path in a long, long time.
Chapter Two
“I’m telling you, I’m about ready to hang myself.”
Liz was having lunch in San Antonio on the Riverwalk with Katie Halliday, her friend Reece Halliday’s wife. Reece had been one of the first ranchers to welcome her into the community when she first came to the Lucky L. She knew her acceptance as the new owner of the facility was due in large part to his efforts. Especially after two of the longtime employees had actually tried to break the will. They were gone, she was still there. And over the past year, she and Katie had become close.
Liz loved the ambience of the Riverwalk, a complete change from her daily work surroundings. Restaurants and shops lined the stone pathways on either side of the very narrow San Antonio River. Throngs of people, both locals and tourists, strolled along, and the signature river barges floated up and down filled with sightseers. It was a casual, colorful, relaxed environment.
Katie laughed. “Come on. It can’t be that bad.”
Liz took a swallow of her frozen margarita and made a face. “Worse. Lordy, Katie, you just don’t know what it’s like always having to act like ‘one of the boys’ only more so. They’re all just waiting for me to make one misstep.”
“Oh, honey, I know it’s tough, but Reece says you’re doing one damn fine job.”
“Would you think I was terrible if I
said just between us chickens here that it’s been far too long since I had something between my legs besides a horse?”
Katie leaned across the table. “I know it’s not funny. I’d hate it if I was in your position. But surely there are guys you’ve met outside the ranch. I mean, you go to a lot of the same events we do, and I see lots of single men there from all over the Hill Country and South Texas.”
Liz picked a tortilla chip out of the basket, dipped it in the queso, and chewed while she tried to figure out how to answer her friend. Could she spill the details to Katie about her sexual needs? Would the woman look at her with distaste? With disgust? Curiosity?
Damn it, she had to have someone to talk to. No matter how friendly she and Reece were, this wasn’t exactly something you discussed with a man. She’d made friends with some of the women in town, especially those who brought their horses to the Lucky L for training. But not anyone she could really open up to.
She washed the chip down with a sip of her drink. Well, if she trusted anyone, she trusted the Hallidays. What was the worst that could happen? Katie would tell her to either change her sexual preferences or take a long vacation and find a hot hunk to tangle the sheets with.
“My problem,” she began slowly, “isn’t just that I don’t want to go trolling in the waters where I work. It’s partly…my sexual preferences.”
Katie’s eyes widened fractionally. “Surely you’re not telling me that women are your thing.”
Liz giggled. “Oh, my lord. No. That’s not it at all.”
“Well, then, what? Come on, girl. How bad can it be?”
Liz helped herself to another chip, dipping it carefully, giving her time to frame her words. “Do you know what a sexual submissive is?”