Cowboy Doms Collection

by BJ Wane

  “He’s not. The answer’s no,” he bit out, tightening his jaw.

  The phone buzzed again. Ignoring his friend’s glower, he brought it to his ear as he strode toward the back doors for a quieter place to talk. “Hello, Jordan,” he answered as he opened the glass slider and stepped out into the cool, September evening air. “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you again?”

  Chapter 2

  If possible, Devin would slam the sliding back door shut as he followed his soon-to-be ex-friend and partner outside. He was so annoyed with Greg for answering Jordan McAllister’s call he didn’t even spare an appreciative glance toward the two young women enjoying the bubbling hot tub. The nip in the air, a hint fall was sneaking up on them fast, did nothing to cool down his hot temper.

  “I’ll have to discuss it with…”

  “No,” he interrupted Greg, refusing to hear what favor their ex-government boss wanted from them.

  Greg glared at him but his annoyance didn’t come through his smooth reply. “Yeah, you heard right, but if I agree, he can just ignore her. I need to think about it. I’ll call you back in the morning.” He ended the call, leaned against the rail and crossed his arms. Looking toward the hot tub, he stated with polite firmness, “Give us a few minutes, please.”

  “Sure, Master Greg.” Mindy, a regular at the club, and her friend, an attractive redhead Devin didn’t know, both stood and stepped out of the heated water.

  Devin snatched two towels off the bench and tossed them over to them, the water sluicing down their naked bodies distracting him for a moment. He might be pissed, but he wasn’t brain dead. He waited until the door closed behind their towel-wrapped forms before rounding on Greg again, who still lounged against the rail, giving him that look, the calm under the surface but annoyed mien Devin knew only too well.

  “We retired early for a reason,” he reminded Greg, moving to stand next to him, facing the night-shrouded trees several feet from the deck as he leaned his forearms on the post. “We swore we were done, and agreed to start over without looking back, without regrets.”

  “And yet the regrets are still there.” Greg sighed and ran one hand through his wavy reddish/brown hair. “You recall the foster kid Jordan and Theresa took in, the young girl they talked about?”

  “No.” But of course, he did. He remembered way too much of his years as an agent. Jordan once showed him a school picture of the cute blonde whose large blue eyes dominated a small face.

  “Stubborn ass. Anyway, she’s in need of a safe place to hang for a while after an attack at a job site. They’re asking us to take her in until they know what’s going on, if she was the target or just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Devin shook his head. “No. They can find someone else.”

  “It’ll only be for a few weeks,” Greg persisted. “And we’re about as far off the grid from Philadelphia as you can get.”

  Pushing off the rail, he leveled an angry glare toward his best friend. “No, and God damn it, you know why.” He turned and took two steps toward the doors, intending that to be the end of it since he refused to go down that road again.

  Greg’s next words halted him with his hand on the knob. “I’m thinking of saying yes.”

  Devin looked back and replied coolly, “You do that, but leave me out of it.” Storming back inside, he went straight to the bar and ordered a beer from Caden.

  Handing him the cold bottle, Caden’s shrewd eyes took in his disgruntled face. “Having a bad evening?”

  He took a long pull on the cold brew before answering, “Not until just now. If you want, I can spell you early.” It had pleased him and Greg when the owners of the club invited them to act as monitors, which included keeping an eye on the lighter scenes that took place on the lower level while tending bar. The offer signaled their trust in Devin and Greg. None of them knew about the tragedy that ended their FBI careers on a sour note.

  “I’ve only put in twenty minutes but if you’re willing to step in, go for it.”

  “That works for me, too, Master Devin,” Sydney called out from the other side, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.

  An amused grin tugged at his lips. Caden’s girl possessed a knack for getting herself into trouble and a straightforward, irrepressible charm that was hard not to like. “Looks like my timing is good.” Striding toward the end of the circular bar, he lifted the hinged end of the top and beckoned Caden forward. “Go, take care of your wife. I’ve got this.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” Caden paused as he went to move past Devin. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  He nodded, reading between the lines. “Thanks.”

  Taking a position behind the bar, Devin spotted Greg coming back inside. The tenseness in his shoulders eased as Greg headed toward him without hesitation. Their friendship dated back twenty-five years and in all that time, neither of them had allowed their differences to put a dent in their close bond.

  “I thought you wanted to scene together tonight,” Greg said, bracing his hands against the bar.

  “And I thought you had more sense than to consider taking another protective duty job.” Just the thought of being responsible for keeping someone safe from an unknown threat again produced a ball of nausea in his gut. One failure along those lines was enough.

  “They don’t even know if she’s a target. Hell, Devin, we didn’t need to meet her or see the McAllisters with her to know how overprotective they were and apparently still are.” Devin folded his arms in what Greg dubbed his brick wall stance, refusing to listen. Throwing up his hands, Greg snapped, “Fine. I’ll change the subject. Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “No, go ahead. I’m not in the mood tonight.”

  Shaking his head, Greg muttered, “Stubborn ass,” and shifted his green eyes to scan the room for a needy sub.

  “We’ve already established that.” Brett and Sue Ellen strolled up to the bar and Devin turned his attention to the couple that still appeared happy with wedded bliss after almost two decades. “Master Brett, what can I get you two?” The twenty-four-seven Dom/sub lifestyle the two were committed to kept him from asking Sue Ellen directly. It wouldn’t be an easy relationship to maintain for that long, and was one Devin himself wouldn’t care for, but who wouldn’t envy their obvious devotion and the contentment always reflected on their faces?

  Brett smiled and flicked one of his wife’s pierced nipples left bare by the leather chest harness that crisscrossed around her breasts with two short straps hooked to the attached collar. “Sue Ellen has grown fond of screwdrivers, and I’ll take a beer. How’s it going tonight, Dev?” He cast a questioning look toward Greg who walked past them leading Mindy toward the stairs.

  “We’re big boys,” Devin drawled with a crooked smile as he poured orange juice in a tall glass before adding a shot of vodka. “We can, and often do hook up separately.” He and Greg had favored ménages ever since a horny college girl invited them both up to her room one night following a frat party. Being the equally horny, red-blooded young guys they were, they never thought to turn her down. Thanks to Becky Dalton, they had discovered the thrill of teaming up together and were still indulging their penchant for threesomes fifteen years later.

  “I know. I was referring to the disgruntled look Greg just aimed your way.” Brett took the beer Devin handed over and sipped before saying, “It’s not often he looks put out.”

  No, between the two of them, Greg was easier going, slower to rile than Devin. But push him too far and his anger wasn’t a quiet rumble like his but a loud explosion that would send a smart person stumbling back until he cooled off. “He and I are disagreeing on something.” He shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”

  “Oh my God, Master Brett, you have to tell me where you bought Sue Ellen’s harness,” Nan exclaimed as she and Dan joined them. “Does it have hooks in the back too?”

  Sue Ellen giggled at her enthusiasm for the fetish attire and looked up at her husb
and, seeking silent permission to speak. Brett nodded with an indulgent smile, twirling his finger for her to turn and show the other couple the different possibilities of her new gift. Talking to Dan, he fingered the metal ring behind the neck and then the one in the center of the back strap. “Two different loops to hook cuffed hands to in back as well as the center D ring in front of the collar.”

  Dan yanked Nan in front of him and reached around to cup her bare breasts and tug on her clamped nipples. Somewhere along the way, he had divested her of the PVC dress, leaving her wearing only a black, leather thong. Devin leaned against the backside of the bar and watched the two couples converse, admitting to the benefits of two people knowing each other well. Even though he and Greg were strictly heterosexual, their long-lasting friendship held some of the same benefits as a committed couple, such as having someone who knew when to push, and when to back off.

  Sighing, he glanced up at the loft and, even in the dim lighting, caught a glimpse of Greg binding Mindy on the St. Andrew Cross. The two of them met in middle school in Bozeman after Devin’s father died and his mother moved them to Montana to live with her parents on the family ranch. Greg had helped him acclimate to being the new kid, taught him to ride, herd cattle and skip stones over water when they discovered they were neighbors. Growing up in Phoenix, those activities were as foreign to a city boy as the French language he had struggled to learn.

  They remained glued at the hip all through school, attending the same college, fielding the constant inquiries about their sexual orientation, sometimes with humor, other times with thinly veiled angry sarcasm. After joining the FBI, they were assigned to different field offices and worked different cases, getting together back here in their home state several times a year while continuing to apply for an assignment together. When they finally got it, it had ended so badly, they’d walked away from their careers to start over with a small dude ranch, as far away from corruption as they could get.

  Devin huffed an exasperated sigh. So much for escaping the long arm of the law they’d sworn to protect and uphold all those years ago. Always willing to champion the underdog or come to the defense or protection of someone in need, Greg wouldn’t change, and Devin didn’t want him to. He knew deep in his gut Greg would agree to Jordan’s request, and wouldn’t fault him for wanting to help. Just as he knew he wouldn’t cave and offer to assist him. If that made Greg the better man, then he had no problem with that. He hadn’t earned his friend’s nickname of stubborn ass for nothing. Greg could take full responsibility for the McAllisters’ foster daughter, but no way would he risk that heartache again.

  “With this being the end of the season, the timing is good.” Greg held the phone in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other as he leaned against the kitchen counter. Devin sat at a stool at the island, his glower unchanged from last night when they had returned home and parted for their separate suites.

  “The cabins are full and booked for the next two weeks,” Devin argued.

  Waving his arm toward the spacious great room behind Devin, Greg reminded him, “We have more than enough room here. She can stay in one of the spare bedrooms and she’ll be working, so she won’t be underfoot. What can it hurt?” He didn’t know why he continued to try and change Devin’s mind; he wasn’t going to budge. Still, he preferred not agreeing to Jordan’s request without some concession from his partner. In his current mood, he would have the girl shaking in her shoes the minute she arrived and it sounded as if she had enough to fret over.

  Downing the last of his coffee, Devin carried his cup over to the sink and rinsed it out. “It can’t hurt me because I’ll have nothing to do with it, or her. I should be back by mid-afternoon.”

  Frustrated, Greg watched him walk out without saying anything else. Maybe the trail ride today would cool him down. They led guests on guided trail rides through the woods, winding their way up to the flat tops of the rolling hills surrounding their five thousand acres. From there, outdoor and wildlife enthusiasts could enjoy a view of Montana’s wide-open prairie grasslands spanning hundreds of miles and the picturesque mountains along the skyline. Through binoculars and telescopes, they scouted for a glimpse of bison or elk grazing on the range or tried to capture a sighting of black bear or bighorn sheep along the mountain edges.

  Pulling up Jordan’s number, Greg strolled toward the floor-to-ceiling bank of windows in the great room and leaned his shoulder against the corner to gaze out at the incredible view he never tired of seeing. The wide-open meadows, still lush and green with a spattering of wildflowers, were backed by the rolling hills Devin would be riding through today. The jagged peaks of the Crazy Mountains rose above the shorter hills in the distance, the endless blue sky blanketing the entire, breath-catching vista. His ex-boss picked up, his relieved voice pulling Greg’s mind off the stunning panorama.

  “I was hoping to hear back from you this soon,” Jordan said.

  “After how our last assignment ended, I’m wondering why you would trust us.” It would likely surprise Devin if his partner knew about Greg’s misgivings in accepting responsibility for the McAllister’s ward, one of his doubts centered around why Jordan would come to them with his favor.

  “Do you forget how many times we told you that wasn’t your fault? Hell, Young, both you and Fisher were wounded protecting that witness. Considering you were outnumbered two to one, it’s a damn miracle all three of you didn’t die.”

  “That doesn’t negate the fact she died on our watch.”

  “No, and I can only imagine how difficult that must be to live with, but there’s still no one I would trust Kelsey with more than you two. Not only do Theresa and I have every confidence in your abilities, your place in Montana is perfect. If she’s a target, there’s no trail that can lead anyone to her there.”

  Greg ran a hand through his hair, watching Devin mount up and lead six of their eighteen guests toward the hills. “Just because she was assaulted doesn’t mean someone’s after her. Couldn’t it have been random?”

  “Not with the dead perp’s rap sheet. He was either after her or someone at that establishment and she was in the way. Theresa and I can concentrate on investigating all possibilities if we know Kelsey is tucked away someplace safe.” Jordan paused and then whispered with a catch in his voice, “Please.”

  “Yeah, okay, bring her on out. Like you said, we have the room.” Greg gave him the information on the small private airport where he would meet them in a few days, as soon as they could arrange a private flight. He didn’t relish dealing with Devin’s sour attitude and hoped the girl would stay to herself as much as possible.

  Kelsey tried hard to keep from letting her disgruntlement show as the small government jet touched down and the view out her window was nothing but a wide expanse of barren land. Okay, the tall grasses were kind of pretty the way they swayed in the breeze with the bright sun highlighting the colorful scattering of wildflowers. The mountains looming in the background looked closer than she imagined they were and reminded her of the trips to the Cascade Mountains the McAllisters had taken her on during her teens. As much as she’d enjoyed those summer vacations, she never could imagine living in such a rural environment. She shuddered thinking the next four weeks were going to drag by.

  “I hope you’re not sorry you didn’t pack more,” Theresa commented as they stood on the tarmac waiting for the eager young man to unload her suitcase. Tall and lanky, Kelsey guessed him to be in his late teens, probably working at the private airport while attending college. Although, where he would go to university around here was beyond her. This area gave the term ‘a whole lot of nothingness’ new meaning.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s not like there will be anything to do or anywhere to go that would require more than my jeans, right?” She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on, as much to shield her eyes from the sun as to hide her discontentment with a situation she could blame on no one but herself. If she hadn’t let curiosity get the bet
ter of her, that man would have continued on with whatever nefarious deed he’d planned and she would still be home, going through her days without guilt eating at her from causing his death.

  As if being in the wrong place at the wrong time wasn’t bad enough, she’d spent the last ten days plagued by hot, sweaty dreams of being bound and tormented into a sexual need she didn’t understand, dreams where she’d been the one on the receiving end of some man’s dominant control. Once her exile was over, the first thing she intended to do upon returning home was look up an old boyfriend who would be willing to give her a booty call. She just hoped she lasted that long.

  The only thing she knew about her hosts was they were retired agents. Just what I need, two more father figures looking over my shoulder all day for the next month. She wished she didn’t care about the McAllisters so much, otherwise she could ignore their fretting and unsubstantiated worries. There were worse things than having people love you, like being abandoned at the age of five.

  The largest truck Kelsey had ever seen pulled into the parking lot and from the name Wild Horse Dude Ranch stenciled in black against the maroon side, she assumed her ride to her temporary home had arrived. Oh, wow. She paused in reaching for her suitcase to ogle the tall, lean cowboy sliding out from behind the wheel. If he’s an example of the employees working on the ranch, her stay was looking up, way up. Her mouth watered as she eyed long legs incased in tight denim and the ripple of muscled forearms and bulging biceps below a short-sleeved, tautly stretched forest green T-shirt. Much of his tanned face was shadowed by the lowered Stetson, but she could still make out a rugged jawline, sculpted lips and the curl of thick brown hair clinging to his corded neck.

  “Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” she whispered to Theresa as she drank in the man’s long-legged sexy stride.