Cowboy Doms Collection

by BJ Wane

  Resting his hand on Belle’s flank, Caden tipped his hat back and drawled, “Willing to help encourage a relationship between a friend and a Dom? You’d be hard-pressed to stop her.”

  “Excellent. We can seal both deals over lunch. Babs made friend chicken.”

  Leslie’s phone beeped with a text message, a welcome distraction from Alan, who insisted on joining her for lunch in the teachers’ lounge. Her pulse jumped at seeing Kurt’s name, not a good reaction for someone who needed to keep an emotional distance. “Excuse me, I should answer this.”

  Turning away from Alan’s frown, she read Kurt’s message, her interest piqued despite wondering why he wanted her to go out with him on what sounded like a double date. Once she’d agreed to an affair, she assumed that meant getting together at her place for a night once in a while, a few hours that might or might not include having dinner together. She never imagined he would want to go out as a couple with others, or take her to a ranching auction. With agriculture listed among Montana’s top industries, she’d lived in the state long enough to learn how popular auctions for livestock were, she just never thought of attending one for fun.

  Curious about his motives, she texted back a simple Why? His honest, straightforward answer rattled her.

  Because going out together is what couples who are having an affair do.

  Unable to resist, she typed back, I thought this was about sex.

  You thought wrong. I’ll be at your place by 4:00. We’ll go to dinner after the auction.

  He clicked off and she looked up to see Alan’s curious stare. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, sorry about that. A friend wanting to meet up tomorrow after school.”

  Reaching for her bottled water, her hand jerked when he wanted to know, “The same friend I saw you with in the parking lot the other day?”

  Leslie refused to lie, and maybe telling Alan she was seeing someone would keep him from asking her out again. “Yes. We met about two months ago.” She kept the circumstances of her and Kurt’s initial introduction and the weeks since to herself.

  “That’s good.” He smiled but hinted for more. “He looked familiar.”

  The door to the lounge opened and two more faculty members entered carrying their lunches. Ignoring Alan’s last statement, Leslie gathered up her trash and stood to greet them. “Here, Mike. You can have my seat. I’m finished and need to get back to my classroom. Alan, thanks for joining me. Catch you later.”

  Regardless of her misgivings about entering into this affair and worrying about the potential heartache of getting too close to anyone, Leslie returned home the next day looking forward to the evening out. And when she opened her door to Kurt and a warm fuzzy surrounded her chest to go along with the now familiar surge of heated blood flow through her veins, she was able to stave off the instant panic for now.

  “Hi. I’m glad I guessed right and stuck with jeans.” Dressed in his usual denim and cowboy boots, today he wore a dove gray, button down western shirt with the long sleeves rolled back to just below his elbows, enough to draw the eyes to the corded muscles of his forearms.

  Those midnight eyes shone with an appreciative light as he looked her over. “You look as good in jeans as you did dressed as Cleopatra, sweetheart. Ready?”

  Leslie was powerless to resist his extended hand or the warmth in his gaze. “Why aren’t you cold?” she asked with envy, shivering against the much cooler evening breeze as they walked to his truck.

  Grasping her waist, Kurt lifted her onto the passenger seat. “I’m warm-blooded, more so when you look at me like that. Keep it up and you’ll find out how fast I can strip those tight jeans off you.”

  “Threats like that only make me want to try harder to get you to act on them, and I’m not the one who planned a night out,” she reminded him. He’d refrained from fucking her the last two times they were together. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe he hadn’t been with other subs during the five weeks between the first and second time they’d met, but she couldn’t understand why he was holding back now, or why it bothered her so much.

  Kurt waited until he slid behind the wheel, started the truck and looked at her askance as he backed out before answering, “Is this aversion to socializing something I need to address? If so, tell me now so I can add it to your other issues we need to work on.”

  Huffing in annoyance, she snapped, “I don’t have issues. Just because I’m not a social butterfly doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

  “Oh, make no mistake, you have issues. But we’ll deal with those in good time. Try and enjoy yourself. Auctions can be fun, even if you’re not bidding.”

  They were crowded, loud and smelly. Okay, and fun, Leslie admitted thirty minutes later. Seated on a hard bleacher between Sydney and Kurt, with Caden on Sydney’s other side, she looked down into the pen in front of the auctioneer’s booth and smiled at the pair of miniature horses up for bid.

  “Oh, wow, they are so cute.” She sighed and leaned forward, her heart breaking for their poor condition.

  “The dogs would love to romp with them. They’re the perfect size…”

  Caden interrupted Sydney with an emphatic shake of his head. “No. Absolutely not. My working dogs don’t need playmates, and we don’t need two more rescues.”

  “I guess you’ll have to get them, Leslie. Do you have any pets?” Sydney turned inquisitive green eyes on her.

  “No, not since I was a kid and we took in a stray mutt. Cute little thing.” She remembered naming the small dog Mitzi and how she used to curl up in bed with her.

  Sydney elbowed her with a sly grin. “I’m sure Kurt can find room to board the ponies at his ranch. From what I hear, that place is huge.”

  “No,” she shot back before Kurt could say anything. “I can’t afford them and know nothing about horses.” And the last thing she needed was to become indebted to him for caring for her pets, even if those two little ponies were adorable and in sad need of attention.

  “I could teach you, and I have plenty of room. Let me know if you change your mind,” he said around the piece of straw he was chewing on.

  Why she found that sexy, Leslie had no idea. Maybe the ache for his full possession occupying her mind was responsible for finding everything he did sexy, and arousing.

  Bidding signs started going up and like with each new showing, Leslie and Sydney tuned out the auctioneer’s rapid-fire chanting, choosing to talk between them instead. As soon as the miniature horses were sold and led out, Sydney sighed in disappointment.

  “If you loved me, you would have bought them for me.”

  “I do love you and no, I wouldn’t. You’ve amassed enough extra mouths for us to feed,” Caden returned dryly before gazing over at Leslie. “You have to forgive her. She was an only child and used to getting her way.”

  He winked, the light in his eyes teasing. Before she could reply, Sydney defended herself. “Being an only child had its benefits, but it would have been nice to have a sibling to hang out with. How about you, Les? Any sisters or brothers?”

  “One sister.” Leslie paused, wincing at her mistake and the stab of pain that always pierced her heart whenever she thought of Roslyn. Her limited conversations with people at the club had never included personal chit chat and the question caught her off guard enough she answered honestly instead of relating the details of the fictional past given to her in the program. “We’re not close and haven’t spoken in years.” God, it hurt to say that. Tears pricked her eyes and she started to rise, to excuse herself and find a restroom, but Kurt grabbed her hand and squeezed. That simple touch, the hard pressure of his larger grip, calmed her enough to get herself under control.

  Sydney distracted her further by saying, “You’ll have to come out to the ranch soon. I’ll get Tamara to join us for a ride, maybe a picnic while it’s still decent weather.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t ride.” Not to mention that would be getting too close to people she re
fused to grow attached to or, God forbid, end up putting at risk if Edwin Glascott ever succeeded in unearthing her whereabouts. She didn’t need Detective Reynold’s telling her the death of one of his beloved sons in prison had bolstered his determination to come after her. Regardless of his ability to hide his involvement, she would never forget or underestimate the hatred he’d spewed toward her in the courtroom.

  “Really? You’ve been here longer than me, haven’t you?”

  Leslie shrugged and turned her eyes on the cattle being ushered into the bidding pen. “Over three years, but I’m with second graders all day, not horses.”

  Sighing, Sydney shook her head. “Oh, girlfriend, we have got to get you out more.”

  She let that comment slide; there was no use arguing when she couldn’t give a reason for the argument. They went to dinner at a small Italian restaurant and while she enjoyed the evening out, and the food, the reminders of everything missing in her life kept her edgy, especially when talk turned toward Sydney’s pregnancy.

  “I was hoping to make a trip back home before winter,” Sydney said after they’d given their orders to the waitress and she had passed on alcohol. “I’m due in March and after another long winter, I’ll be ready to take up drinking again.” She turned to Caden. “Will you have time to make a trip to St. Louis for Thanksgiving, if the weather holds?”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand, an indulgent look softening his face. “I’ll make time,” he replied before turning a probing gaze on Leslie. “Do you get the chance to visit home much, Leslie?”

  Once again, the unexpected personal question jolted Leslie. Since she’d kept to herself so much since relocating to Billings, she lacked practice in getting comfortable with her fake past and her mind still automatically conjured up her life in Reno. As she struggled to get her thoughts in order, suspicion began to form a tight knot in her belly. That made one too many pokes into her private life for her comfort.

  “No, I don’t. There’s nothing there for me anymore.” Pushing back from the table, she stood as she fought against the mistrust entering her head. “Excuse me, I need to find the restroom.” She spun around and wound her way through the tables toward the lit-up bathroom sign before they said anything. She placed the blame for the subterfuge solely on Kurt, admitting it didn’t surprise and irritate her. From their first encounter he’d shown too much interest in her beyond the sex for her peace of mind, and she was well aware there were Doms who insisted on seeing to sub’s emotional needs as well as their physical. That’s why she’d stayed clear of them after just one scene or two.

  Master Kurt left her no choice but to back off from this relationship, but before she did, she craved one more night with him, yearned to wrap her arms around his larger, harder body one more time and experience the mind-numbing pleasure of his thick cock pummeling her depths again. Just a few more hours to relish the contentment of being taken over completely before she turned away the only man she couldn’t forget.

  Kurt stood as she returned to the table, his eyes sharpening as she sat down. “Problem, sweetheart?”

  Schooling her features, she forced a confident smile as she saw their food arriving. “No, I’m fine.”

  He nodded and the conversation remained on neutral topics as they ate, but Leslie still thought it best to end this after tonight. Sitting next to him in the truck, her body hummed in anticipation of submitting to him one more time. But just like the two times they’d gotten together this week, he pulled her in for a kiss that fired her up on all cylinders and then walked away without giving her what she wanted most. Himself. He left her aching after a long, thorough, panty-dampening lip-lock and a promise to call the next day.

  Standing inside her open door with her damp thong clinging to her skin, pining for his touch, she glared at his swaggering retreat, refusing to call him back and beg. He paused after opening the truck door and looked back at her with a taunting grin that made her grit her teeth in frustration. “I’ll call you. Behave, Leslie.”

  “Maybe I won’t answer,” she muttered as he settled behind the wheel, her disappointment a palpable throb deep inside her. She didn’t see his satisfied grin as he drove away.

  Kurt drove back to the ranch happy with the progress he’d made tonight with Sydney’s help. His girl liked animals but had only owned one pet. She wasn’t an only child, as he assumed, and he didn’t believe her when she said she and her sister weren’t close. The reason for that evasion remained to be solved. After living in Montana for several years, she still hadn’t sat a horse. That could be rectified easy enough if he could get her out to the ranch.

  All in all, this affair had been going his way nicely until she returned from the restroom and remained aloof during dinner, her eyes revealing the wariness he thought they had gotten past. She likely didn’t understand why he was putting off fucking her again, and planned on remedying that problem tomorrow night at the club. His plan to show her he was interested in exploring more than the physical side of a Dom/sub relationship would have to wait so he could appease her mind about the depth of his desire for her. His only concern was once he did, she would start pulling back, and he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

  Chapter 8

  Reno, Nevada

  Edwin Glascott ignored the softly uttered condolences as people he didn’t give a shit about filed by him in the cemetery. Standing over his youngest son’s grave was a place he’d never imagined he would find himself. His boys had been his legacy and everything to him, and there had been and still was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. Now, he would leave one burial to plan for another, having gotten the call that morning informing him of Jake’s death. Hadn’t he warned them off the drugs? When they’d ignored him and ended up offing that pathetic store owner, hadn’t he cautioned them to lay low and give him time to get them out of that mess?

  He’d never loved anyone until he’d laid eyes on his infant sons. Their bitch of a mother walked out when Jason turned two and Edwin hadn’t cared. In fact, he remembered watching her drive away with a sense of relief and gladness it would be just the three of them from then on. Money, as he’d discovered after earning his first million, had its uses and opened doors that would otherwise have remained closed. His boys had gone to the best schools, wore designer clothing, drove top of the line cars. So what if they got into scrapes now and then? They were young, just sowing a few wild oats, nothing he hadn’t done in his youth except shooting someone. After he learned about the witness, his livid temper with the entire fucked-up situation nearly exploded, and his rage only intensified when she refused to be cowed by his threats. When threats didn’t work, his hired thug botched the attempt to silence her and then she disappeared, driving his fury to new heights.

  As he watched his son’s casket lowering into the ground, white-hot fury burned inside him, a smoldering rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He could think of nothing except revenge, wouldn’t accept any other outcome but the death of the woman responsible for his sons’ fate.

  Spinning away from the grave, Edwin stomped toward the limo. There was one more funeral to get through, and then, by God, he would enact his revenge.

  I’ll be a little late tonight, but I’ll meet you at the club.

  Leslie read Kurt’s text as she entered her apartment the next day after school. She wasn’t going to stay away from the club just to avoid him, even though it was tempting to hide out at home for a few weeks until he got over this idea of an affair. No, she needed to move on, go back to playing the field at The Barn and that, more than anything else would get her over this infatuation. She should have considered that during the weeks she’d stayed home, unable to forget the stranger who had come to her rescue one night in more ways than one.

  I’ll be there.

  The simple reply didn’t commit her to spend the evening with Master Kurt and she left it at that as she got ready. Rifling through her closet, Leslie wished she owned some fetish clothing like Nan always wore. She’d
never wanted to dress to catch as much attention as possible like she did now. There were enough Doms to go around and she wasn’t picky, at least she never had been before. But as she reached for a silky, thigh-skimming sheath, she found herself considering Master Kurt’s hot gaze as he stripped it off her instead of any of the other Doms still free of a commitment.

  Bemoaning her idiocy, she tossed the dress onto the bed and took a quick shower. By the time she fixed a light dinner, dressed and made the thirty-minute drive to the secluded club, it was close to nine o’clock and she breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t see Kurt’s truck in the parking lot. Walking inside, she stowed her shoes and hung up her light coat, eager to hook up with someone before Kurt arrived. Once he saw she had moved on to another Dom, he should be happy to let go of the whole idea of an affair.

  So why did her palms grow clammy and her heart slam against her chest as she entered the playroom and scanned the crowd? Forcing a mental head shake and adjustment, she spotted Avery and Nan seated at the bar and padded over to join them. At least Sydney wasn’t around to say anything about her and Kurt. That was a plus. Avery waved her over with a welcoming smile and patted the empty stool next to her.

  Leslie hopped on the seat, returning her smile. “Hi. What are you drinking?” She nodded toward the half-filled glasses in front of them.

  “A new white wine they just got in. Here, try a taste, you’ll like it.” Avery handed Leslie her glass

  “Oh, you’re right,” she agreed, taking a sip as Master Grayson strolled over from behind the bar.

  “One more?” he asked, shifting the toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth that reminded Leslie of Kurt chewing on a blade of straw during the auction. Grayson and Kurt shared the same sun-darkened, rugged complexions and wore their black hair long enough to brush their collars, their eyes often holding the same piercing gazes when they looked at a sub even though Grayson’s were a striking gray/green compared to Kurt’s velvet black.