Big Bad John (Bigger in Texas Series) (9 page)

She took a big shuddering breath and buried her face in his shirt.

“You okay?” he asked tenderly. A nod was the only answer she would give. “Babe, I need you to shift Loco into drive for me. My arm is occupied.”

She turned in his arms and shifted as he let out the stiff clutch and pushed on the gas, and they drove for the next few minutes in silence. John wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He felt better than he had in as long as he could remember. As if a fog had been lifted. A weight that he’d carried for years. But though he knew she’d come as hard as he had, he didn’t know if she shared his satisfaction. He was not a fan of mysteries.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She bit her lip. “I’m thinking I should be thinking more.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Wanna translate that for me?”

“About this. About my brother. The tour. My houseguest. About everything I should be thinking about instead of...”

“Instead of what?” But he knew. Since she arrived, he hadn’t been able to think about anything else either. Hell, he hadn’t even made it to his house before he popped.

That didn’t mean he wanted it to stop.

“I’m thinking you agreed to give yourself to me for the next two weeks. I’m thinking you do enough thinking and sometimes, Trudy…sometimes people just need to
be
.” His arm tightened around her body and he said a silent prayer. “Can you do that? Just be with me tonight? Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

She hesitated for a moment before he heard her soft. “Okay.”

As the words escaped her lips and he quietly thanked the heavens, the water and his house came into view. John smiled when she gasped.

Exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.

She was having a hard time taking it all in. Jefferson had called John’s place a lean-to. She’d imagined a small cabin, or one of those insulated metal barns people liked so much around here.

But this… It was as if he’d listened to her conversations with her father at the dinner table about making the ranch more renewable. About some of the unusual homes of the rich and famous she’d seen in magazines from Arizona and California. As if he’d remembered.

John’s place wasn’t the sparse, hedonistic bachelor pad she’d been expecting. Bachelor pads didn’t have four large bedrooms, fully stocked libraries and entertainment centers, greenhouses off their kitchens or solar panels and water catchment systems on the roof. They weren’t made of concrete with walls of windows that let in the sun but kept the house cool and comfortable through the summer and warm in the winter.

They definitely didn’t have tree stands in the yard complete with a small telescope and some cushions to watch the stars.

This wasn’t a house for a man who wanted to be alone. This was a home. The kind of home she used to dream about. And it was stunning.

He’d done all this? During the dinner he’d made her—grilled shrimp and pasta in wine sauce—he’d told her about building it one favor at a time. Someone in town had a backhoe, someone had a cement mixing company, and one retired investment banker who loved working with his hands had helped him with the plumbing and electrical wiring in exchange for a free box of Troublemaker sauce and some conversation.

Trudy was on the porch facing the pond, a glass of wine in her hand and her eyes glazed over as she stared into the sunken fire pit that lit the area around her and smelled faintly of cedar. John was inside doing the dishes.

She was in shock. That must be what this feeling was.

Her head was floating up in the star-filled sky, and to be honest, she hadn’t come down since she’d gotten into the truck. Being so close to him, watching him struggle to restrain himself, had flipped a switch inside her. She’d wanted to give him pleasure. Wanted to taste him again.

She’d been shameless. Wild. And she could still feel that wildness thrumming through her nerve endings. Waiting for the chance to pounce. Waiting for whatever he had planned.

He’d already affected her more than anyone in the club or anyone she’d dated ever had. One touch, one suggestion or command from him sent her almost instantly into that subspace she’d always heard her girlfriends talk about. She couldn’t imagine what would happen to her when he did more. What she would let him do.

The patio door slid open and John came through to join her, his large frame invading the space and taking her breath away. He had a slender laptop under one arm and a longneck bottle of beer in his hand. He caught her staring and smiled. “Dinner’s put away and dessert is chilling in the fridge. How’s your wine?”

She looked down at it absently, lifting it to take another sip. “Good.” She could still taste the salt of him on her tongue. But the wine was relaxing her tight muscles. “Thank you for this.”

He sat in one of the wide patio chairs, set the laptop down on the table and opened his beer. The same type of bottle she’d…

Trudy shifted in her seat as he leaned his head back, tilted the bottle and took a long drink. Why was that sexy? The way his throat moved. The way he licked his lips, savoring the taste. Drinking wasn’t sexy.

He
was. Everything about him. The way he moved, both carefully and gracefully for such a big man. The way he watched her every reaction. Hell, the way he breathed seemed sexy right now.

“Trudy, now that I’ve fed you and shown you around, I think it’s time we had our talk.”

The talk. The terms of their time together. Right. She could do this. She was friends with the queen of this type of negotiation. “So I need to know what to expect, and you need to know what I like.”

John looked uncomfortable. “Yep.”

Her gaze narrowed. She hoped he didn’t play poker. “What? Don’t go quiet on me now. Not when you’ve talked more this visit than you have in all the time I’ve known you. These kinds of things require full disclosure and honesty. Is there something you need to tell me?”

He took another swig of his beer then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I know what you like.”

Trudy could feel her cheeks heat. “You have good instincts, that’s for sure. But I mean—”

“The kink,” he interrupted. “Your knowledge of rope bondage and safety precautions that you learned from the people who bound you for demonstrations. I know that you’re a lighter player than most of your friends, but you enjoy watching the rougher scenes and helping with aftercare. I know you love being spanked and paddled. Being restrained, though you’ve never let go entirely for anyone. You’ve always wanted to experience exhibitionism and role-play, but you haven’t found the right partner.”

She sat up straight, nearly spilling her wine. “You talked to Caroline.”

John shook his head. “I read your profile online.” He reached for the laptop, opened it and turned it toward her. It was already open to a site that looked so familiar her stomach dropped. “I’m Badlands38. You can check mine. I signed up several years before you did, though I admit I did peruse the Los Angeles chapter’s comments more than I should have out of curiosity. When I found you… Well, I should have told you. But there you go.”

“Holy shit.” He was… She knew that name. Knew his avatar—an image of a pair of scuffed up boots with rope in a pile beside them. She’d seen him on her page. She thought about the pictures
she
had on there. Her posts. “Oh God.”

John dragged his chair closer and placed a hand on her thigh, stopping her from rising. “This is my profile. I want you to look at it. Like you, I’m not as heavily involved, but I’ve always kept one foot in the door. I’m less active now because I can’t get to the club in Dallas that often and going to one out of state doesn’t interest me. I enjoy restraining women with ropes and handcuffs, among other things. Spanking, though I prefer bare hand to paddle so I can better control the sensations, and…well, let’s say I have a few more kinks than you do, but at the moment I’m more worried about how pale you are. Talk to me, Trudy.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. Off all the comments from women who were interested in getting to know him. Off all the evidence of his vast experience. He wasn’t lying. He’d joined before she did. And his list of interests was…varied. “You should have told me who you were online.”

He sighed. “And you would have blocked me.”

“Probably.” But she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t deny there was a part of her that was fascinated by this side of him. This offer was no whim. No coincidence. He knew her. Everything she’d shared online. Things she’d never shared with anyone about her years before California.

He was her first experience with the forbidden. Her reaction to him was what had led her to seek out the club, the community, in the first place. It was a reaction that had never been duplicated. She found pleasure in the experiences, but it wasn’t the same.

And now knew it all. The side of her she kept separate—even from most of her ordinary relationships—and he liked it.

She knew she could get up and walk away now and he wouldn’t hold it against her. No one would. She could claim keeping tabs on her was a line he shouldn’t have crossed and be perfectly justified.

The grip of his big hand as he held her wrists behind her back, his fingers tight on her hair, pinching her ass...she wanted more. She wanted him. She always had. How could she leave without knowing what it was like to be taken by him?

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Trudy took a steadying breath and glanced at his list again before closing the laptop. “I don’t see anything here that I have a problem with. Do you have any questions for me?”

He tensed, the hand on her thigh tightening for a moment. “Yes. Have you done this before?”

She knew what he was referring to and shook her head, then shrugged. “I’ve had scenes at the club, as you know, but nothing that went beyond an evening.”

“Has sex ever entered into the negotiations?”

Her heart started racing. “
No.
No, that never…no. I usually only play with friends. Kink and sex have always been separate for me. I’ve never dated anyone who wanted more. Who expected it.”

John lowered his voice. “I’ll expect it, Trudy. Often. Whenever and wherever I choose. This is no normal situation. No scene you can prepare for ahead of time and forget about the next day. From you, I’ll expect everything.”

She allowed herself a weak smile. “I had a feeling.”

“Do you agree?”

Oh God yes
. “Yes. I do.”

John leaned back in his chair and placed his hands flat on his muscular thighs. “Come over here and stand in front of me.”

The tone of his voice…it was starting. Trudy set down her glass and stood on shaky legs, moving until she was directly in front of him. This startling sense of vulnerability left her weak. Luckily her sass was still intact. “Yes sir, Big Bad.”

John’s smile was pure wicked intent. “I like it when you say it, Trouble. I’d like to hear you scream it when I’m spanking you. Or when my cock is buried balls deep in your ass.”

Oh fuck. Her knees were in danger of buckling. His smile grew. “Don’t worry, we’ll work up to that. For the moment, I need you to take off your clothes.”

She swallowed. “All of them?”

“Every scrap.”

She toed off her sandals and unbuttoned her jeans. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to push them off and tug off her T-shirt in short order.

“Pretty bra,” he murmured. “I want to see how it looks on the ground. Panties too.”

She hesitated and he sat up straight and gripped her hips in his hands. “Are you saying no, Trudy? Or are you that impatient for a spanking?”

She heard the steady drone of the cicadas and looked over her shoulder into the darkness. John chuckled. “No one comes within a mile of this place. They know better. Take it off for me. Let me see you. Let me see everything that’s mine.”

She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, wishing for a moment she had a body that wasn’t quite so round. Wishing she had Caroline’s confidence.

But you’ve been practically naked a million times in front of strangers and friends. He wants this. Give him what he wants.

When her bra and underwear were on the ground on top of her clothes, she held her breath, her arms down and shoulders back proudly as she let him look his fill.

John growled. The sound was primal, vibrating from somewhere deep in his chest. Sexy. Trudy looked down at his face and her blood heated.

He liked what he saw. More than liked it.

He stood, his six-foot-six frame towering over her. She saw his jaw working, his face flushed and his blue eyes blazing down at her in the firelight. “Go wait for me by the water.”

What? She furrowed her brow, then glanced down at his hands, which were white-knuckled fists. She took a step back and started walking through the soft grass to the old pond where she’d first seen him naked. She’d been overwhelmed by him then, and she’d never forgotten it.

She wondered if he felt the same way.

There was a gentle slope at the edge of the pond. When she was younger, she’d loved it because she could lie in the hot sun, the water beneath her and lapping against her breasts. It was a freeing experience. Taboo and exciting and oddly soothing all at once.

The moon was only half full, but she could see it reflected in the water along with the stars. She’d missed this. She never thought she would. All she’d ever wanted was the hustle and bustle of a big city. No one cared who you dated or what you did for a living. No one stopped by with a casserole to pry information about your mother’s potential whereabouts out of you. No one tattled to your father if they caught you necking in the back of a car with a college senior.

But it could be lonely. If it weren’t for Caroline…

And you won’t even have her while you’re touring. Just thousands of cheering strangers.

Trudy inhaled sharply when John’s body heat warmed her from behind, all thoughts about anything else leaving her mind.

He placed one large hand on her shoulder. “Don’t turn around. Kneel in the water for me, Trudy.”

She knelt, shivering a bit at the cool water, loving the sensation of knowing he was right there with her. Imagining what he was going to do.