by BJ Wane
Tamara swallowed her disappointment. She didn’t want him ‘looking out for her’, as always, no matter the reason. Apparently, she craved the impossible; for him to regard her as more than a neighbor, a friend or the kid he’d befriended. “Thanks, but my few employees are loyal and diligent. We can pull our own weight, one way or another.” To take her mind off what she couldn’t have, she flipped him a taunting grin and said, “Race you,” before taking off.
She heard his laughing shout and the thunder of his horse’s hooves as he caught up with her. Side by side, they traversed the wide-open meadow at a ground-eating pace. Her pleasure in the run and the company lightened her mood by the time they neared the line separating their ranches. Panting, she reined in Galahad and beamed at Connor.
“I won!”
“Did not, but I’ll give it to you anyway.” With a wink, he lowered his hat and turned toward his spread. Waving, he called back, “See you at the clinic tomorrow, kid.”
Muttering, “I’ll show you next weekend I’m not a kid,” she returned to the house to attend the chores waiting for her there.
Connor stopped by Caden’s, whose house sat on the same acreage as their barns, on his way in for therapy Monday morning. The two of them had taken over the thirty-thousand-acre Dunbar spread when their parents retired and moved into a condo in Billings but kept separate homes as they each valued their privacy. They kept their dad in the loop concerning the business side of ranching, but Connor and Caden had cut their eyeteeth on running a ranch and he trusted them to know what they were doing.
His lifted spirits after riding with Tam yesterday still remained, and he was looking forward to seeing her again, even to the annoying workout she would put him through. God, he’d missed hanging out with her, seeing her, talking to her, hearing that infectious laugh of sheer pleasure. Every time he’d caught a glimpse of her or heard through the grapevine she had returned for a visit and he’d visited with Richard to ease his mind by ensuring she was doing well he would leave missing her all over again. He never should have let her avoid talking to him for so long.
The only thing keeping their relationship from getting back to normal was the uncertainty of whether she would insist on returning to the club. As long as that was a possibility their bond would remain fragile. But he refused to mar what looked like a beautiful day emerging with a cloudless blue sky and warmer weather by fretting over whether she would prove as stubborn about that disagreement as with others they’d had.
“Where are you headed?” Caden greeted him as he came out of the house and walked down the drive to lean his arms on the open passenger window of Connor’s truck.
“Therapy.” Rotating his shoulder, he felt a twinge, but it had improved since he’d been doing the stretches Tam had given him. “It’s getting better, slowly.”
“Good. If you’re up to it, we could use an extra hand branding. We’ve got calves running around unmarked.”
“I know, and that’s not good. With the meat packers and auction houses on alert for stolen brands, we need to get them tagged. I can handle it. I’ll be back shortly.”
Caden gave him a knowing look. “You weren’t happy with your therapist the other night.”
Blowing out a breath, he tightened his hands on the steering wheel as he recalled seeing Tam restrained over the spanking bench and his uncontrollable reaction to her. “No, as you well know. I still say she had no business being there. She’s too young, too naïve and innocent for our lifestyle.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Con,” Caden returned with a derisive curl of his lips. “In the meantime, she’s joined and paid a month’s fees.”
“What? She’s planning on returning?” He jerked as if struck. “Stubborn minx,” he growled, wondering how much of her decision had to do with genuine interest as opposed to a way to get back at him.
Caden chuckled. “You should see your face.”
“I don’t have to. Shit.” He sighed with frustration. “What am I going to do with her?”
Shaking his head, his brother backed away from the truck. “Oh, no. I’m not helping you with this one. You’re on your own unless you screw it up again. Later.”
“You wouldn’t be getting hitched if it wasn’t for me!” Connor called out as Caden strolled toward the barns.
Lifting his hand in acknowledgement, he admitted without turning, “There is that. Good luck.”
Putting the truck in gear, Connor pulled away, still baffled by how happy and content Caden acted over the end of his bachelorhood. He’d never dreamed pushing him toward Sydney would lead to a commitment but had to admit they were well suited. Shifting gears, he turned his mind to another relationship and the dilemma over what to do about it.
By the time he pulled into the clinic’s parking lot, Connor had decided he needed to take one more shot at gently steering Tam away from the club. If reasoning didn’t work, maybe a hint of what she thought she wanted would be enough to deter her from pushing forward. She hadn’t taken it past bondage the other night and he didn’t doubt she would have backed off if things had gone further and someone had given her a taste of the discipline side of BDSM. He didn’t want her hurt, or even disillusioned, just safely away from his proclivities and their comfortable relationship back on track.
Given the setting, he’d have to keep it quick and simple, but he was good at improvising and even better at getting his point across with a small demonstration that needed few words if she wouldn’t listen to reason. Either way, he couldn’t risk seeing her at The Barn again. His resolve to keep their relationship platonic, thus preserving their bond, wouldn’t hold out.
Chapter 6
Tamara looked up as the door to the PT room opened, this time prepared for seeing Connor again, unlike yesterday when he’d ridden up unexpectedly and joined her on a run just like old times. Her response was the same, a quick rush of pleasure and a jump in her pulse. But being prepared meant she could handle it without letting him know how easily he got to her with his presence and from one look.
With her decision to return to the club made and sealed with payment of a month’s fees, she needed to work on keeping her feelings in check around him. It would be a waste of time and money if she couldn’t concentrate on exploring and enjoying her newfound interest in what she’d seen going on there because he was nearby.
“Good morning.” She greeted him with a smile, rising from behind her desk. Connor removed his hat, placing it on a hook before turning that enigmatic gaze on her. His smile warmed her blood but the look in those eyes as he approached drew a ripple of unease down her spine. “What?” she asked as he reached her and just stood there, his look assessing.
“After all these years, I didn’t think there was anything you could do that would surprise me. I was wrong.”
She had to harden herself against the way his deep voice and slow drawl washed over her. “You talked to Caden. I never said I wouldn’t return to the club, Con, only that I would think about it. I did, and decided I’m interested enough to keep exploring. Now,” she said, her tone turning brusque as she set aside her reaction to his nearness. “Have a seat on the mat and I’ll do range of motion on your shoulder to see if you did your homework.”
She expected more of an argument about the club, but all he said was, “Sure,” before sauntering over to the raised mat. Tamara couldn’t help admiring his tight butt showcased in snug denim or recalling the way those taut buttocks clenched as he had driven himself into the woman in his barn.
Sitting down, Connor looked up at her with a wicked grin and spread his muscled thighs. Grasping her hips, he pulled her to stand between his legs, the warmth of his large, rough hands seeping through the thin cotton of her medical uniform pants. “You can get an easier grip and range standing here.” Releasing his hold, he held out his arm. “Tell me why you’re insisting on coming to The Barn. You’ve never displayed a submissive tendency before. In fact, you’re excellent at giving back as good as you get, or,
at least you used to be.”
Until I saw the focused look on your face and your partner’s sated, contented expression when you had finished with her. Tamara knew better than to reveal that thought aloud. Instead, she maneuvered his arm up and down, back and forth as she replied with a careless shrug, “We haven’t seen each other in a while and I’ve changed. Besides, that’s not something a person would know until they’re confronted with the possibility. You’ve done well; you’re much looser this week.”
“You’re the one who refused to speak to me for so long. Tam, that lifestyle isn’t for you,” he returned, his gentle voice and the fondness reflected in his eyes coming close to unraveling her.
“You don’t know that, and neither do I. I’m curious and want to find out. Come on.” Letting go of his arm, she stepped back before he could touch her again. She would be defenseless against both that look and his hands on her. “I think you can handle an increase in weight, as well as repetitions on the pulleys.” She heard his sigh but when he didn’t comment further, she hoped that would be the end of it.
“I can handle that. The question is,” he stated as he took hold of the pulley and went to work, “can you handle what the Doms want to dish out? I don’t think so, and I don’t want to see you hurt, and I’m talking about emotionally. No one there would cause you intentional, physical pain.” He gave her a wry smile. “Unless you want them to, that is.”
“I’m a big girl, but thanks for caring, and for warning me.” She turned her back on him and the way his jaw went taut and his eyes flashed with frustration. He’d always had a knack for coaxing her into behaving herself, but she refused to cave to his cajoling this time. His sudden nearness as he came up behind her and spun her around caught her by surprise and her heart pounded with sudden expectation.
Exasperation flashed in his eyes. “Damn it, Tam, I doubt you’ve ever even been spanked.”
“I might have been if you hadn’t interrupted me the other night,” she shot back, equally frustrated with his obstinance, no matter that it stemmed from caring and concern.
“Really?” A calculated gleam entered his eyes as he ran his hands down her arms in what she could have sworn was a caress designed to soothe. Whatever it was, she enjoyed the light touch. “Well, since it was my fault you didn’t get to experience that aspect of BDSM, let me make up for it.”
Before she realized his intention, he grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the desk, maneuvering her in front of him. With a hand between her shoulders, he pressed gently, bending to whisper in her ear. “Lean on the desk. Show me you’re willing to experiment with this side of my lifestyle.”
His warm breath fanned the side of her neck, raising the tiny hairs on her nape, his words conjuring up all kinds of scenarios. Her voice shook as she whispered, “We’re not at the club. This is where I work, where someone might come in.” The next appointment wasn’t for an hour but that didn’t mean someone else couldn’t pop in. The very thought sent a flare of heat up her core. When had she become such a pervert? The silent question accompanied her descent over the desk as she braced on her forearms, her only thought to show him how serious she was about continuing with her submissive education. His sudden indrawn breath followed with the brush of his palm over her buttocks. She trembled, thinking maybe it was just Connor who turned her into a promiscuous deviant wannabe.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he bemoaned as he palmed her right cheek. “This is wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to count. Remember, this is your doing.”
The sudden impact of Connor’s hand smacking her bottom jarred Tamara into an acute awareness of the minor discomfort, and how it seemed to feed the lust she harbored for him. Another spank followed the first, this one on her opposite cheek, delivered with a touch more force. She jerked, a small whimper escaping at the startling warmth spreading across her backside.
“This is just a taste of what subs are subjected to if they agree to play with a Dom.” Two more swats, each a little harder, jiggled her buttocks and built on the heat now expanding from her butt up between her quaking thighs. “Think long and hard, little one, because trust me, I’m being very,” smack! “very,” smack! “nice.” He ended the teasing torment with an almost casual exploration of her cheeks and then squeezed each throbbing globe, the tight grip emphasizing the ache and stirring her arousal.
Shaken, Tamara tried to lean back against Connor as he helped her straighten, but he shifted away too fast, leaving his hands on her upper arms until she steadied and turned to face him. With her face burning, her heartbeat thumping like a crazed bat and her warmed buttocks pulsing softly, she knew her face reflected the desire she couldn’t deny.
Connor dropped his hands as if burned and stumbled back a step, shaking his head. “You’re impossible. I’ve got to run. We’ll talk later.” Without another word or backward glance, he pivoted, snatched his hat off the hook and dashed out as if the hounds of Hell were after him.
“I’m impossible?” she muttered in frustration, ready to pull her hair out over the blind spot he refused to look past. If he thought that little demonstration would deter her, she’d give him something else to think about. If anything, her response reinforced her determination to move forward without him, one way or another. It also left her wondering how much more potent those swats would have been if delivered on her naked flesh.
Connor drove away from the clinic trying to erase the image of Tam bent over, those taut buttocks softening under his hand, surprising him yet again with her acceptance of a new kink. How was he supposed to keep her at arm’s length and save their friendship if she continued to respond as expected of a true submissive? He was beginning to wish she’d stayed in Boise. A pang clutched his chest at that thought, and he knew it wasn’t true.
Immersing himself in hard, sweaty work was what he needed to distract him from the difficult position Tam put him in. Branding was already underway by the time he returned to the ranch and made his way to the largest cattle barn. Behind it, the attached corral was teeming with activity, ranch hands and distressed calves making enough noise to wake the dead. Without giving it a second thought, he bounded over the rail and jumped in to help one of the younger hands wrestle a young male to the ground. He barely missed getting kicked by flailing hooves before he and Tyler managed to get the legs lassoed together.
Heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline, he jumped to his feet, snatching his hat off the ground. Slapping the dust from it against his thigh, he grinned at Tyler’s red, frustrated face. “You just have to show ’em who’s boss, Ty. Don’t be afraid to get rough, you won’t hurt them.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Connor realized how appropriate they were for his situation with Tam. Maybe taking her in hand at the club would be the quickest, and safest way to subdue her interest.
“Got it, Boss. I came on right after branding season last year, so I’m still learning the ropes with it. I’ll let the blacksmith know we have another ready.”
Tyler gave him a two-fingered salute before jogging into the barn. Connor bent down and ran his hand over the stressed calf’s head. “You’re okay, little fellow.” The Dunbar Ranch had switched to the more humane method of using liquid nitrogen to cool a branding iron before applying it to a flank and altering the hair follicles. The whitened fur would be in the shape of a D, labeling the animal as their property and making it harder for thieves to unload their stolen cattle.
“No wonder all the girls have been missing your attention,” Grayson said from behind Connor.
Strolling over to the fence, Connor leaned his arms on the top rail next to the sheriff’s. “What brings you out here today?” he asked, ignoring Grayson’s reference to his bouts of celibacy in the past few months.
“I wanted to let you know we have a lead on the rustlers. Law enforcement in the next county came across an abandoned trailer.” Grayson’s eyes turned flinty as he ground out, “Bastards crammed twelve head into a trailer only big enough to h
old six, maybe seven. Four dead, two more likely to be. They abandoned the haul when a tire went flat and they didn’t have a spare.”
Connor shook his head, disgust tightening his throat. “Fucking bastards. Were any of them from the Barton spread?”
“One of the deceased and two of the better-off ones, so they lucked out. They’ll be returned in a day or two. I stopped here first, on my way to tell them.”
Connor wanted to rush over and relay the good news himself, but knew he needed to keep his distance until he decided how to handle Tam Friday night if she showed up at The Barn. “They’ll be glad to get back whatever they can.”
“I hear Tamara might join us again this weekend.” His friend sent him a shrewd look.
“Back off, Sheriff. We’re friends, nothing more. I might show her a few more aspects, just to make sure she doesn’t get into something she’ll regret, but that’ll be the extent of it,” he insisted.
Grayson straightened, tipped his hat and said, “If you say so. I’ll catch you later.”
Watching him saunter back to his cruiser, Connor wondered why everyone was so sure there was more to his protection and friendship with Tam than he knew there was. Idiots, he thought with a touch of fondness. Just because Caden and Grayson appeared blissfully happy in their committed relationships didn’t mean going down that road was for everyone. It sure wasn’t his ideal path to follow. He was quite content remaining footloose and fancy-free.
Tamara didn’t see or hear from Connor the rest of the week, which was a good thing. By the time she was leaving the clinic Friday afternoon, she’d worked herself into a state of frustrated indecision. She really wanted to go to the club tonight, but every time she thought of expanding from voyeurism to exhibitionism, of someone other than Con seeing and touching her, uncertainty gripped her. The only thing she knew for certain was that sex was off the table.