Hers to Choose (Cannon Cousins) (5 page)

***

Alex tried to pull his stare away
from her breasts. Jesus Christ. A rosy flush rose from the upper curves of
those magnificent mounds and ran all the way up to her cheeks. He had to force
himself to stay seated.
This isn’t your show, Alexander Cannon.
He
rolled his eyes and leaned back.

“Well,” Alex cleared his
throat. “I’m damn well convinced of her willingness to please. What do you
think, Dan?”

“Serve us some cake, Miss
McClure,” Dan said sternly.

Alex shifted in the
wooden chair to accommodate his raging erection.

Sweat beaded on her forehead
as she stood up. Alex saw the film of moisture and imagined her stretched out
on a
bed, that
same moisture coating her entire body
as his hands slowly slid up her legs. He stifled a groan.

She bent over to cut the
cake, causing her breasts to sway forward. Lantern light reflected off sweat
pooled between her breasts and at the base of her throat. He twisted in the
chair again as his cock pushed the front of his jeans.

She slid their plates
toward them without looking up. Surely the cake tasted great, thick with sweet
chocolate and creamy icing. He wouldn’t know. His hand moved the fork
automatically from the plate to his mouth. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She stood gripping the
back of her chair, eyes lowered as she waited for Dan’s next command. The
kerosene lamp cast a glow over her pale skin and sparked coppery glimmers in
her curly hair. Perfect white teeth kept nibbling on her full lower lip,
shining with her saliva. Her delicious nipples stood erect, tempting the very
last bit of self-control Alex could muster. He could practically taste the
flesh. Damn, this whole thing might prove impossible. He could feel himself
being drawn to her, hook, line and sinker. 

Dan made short work of
the cake, even though she had cut generous pieces for both of them. Alex ripped
his gaze away from the luscious spectacle before him and tried to think about
the cake, the hunting, work, Dan, anything but dragging this woman into his
bed.

With an abrupt motion
intended to inflict disabling pain on his throbbing erection, Alex scooted back
from the table and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Dan, here’s my thought.
In view of Miss McClure’s…uh, determination to meet our needs, I say we
continue our stay here.” He tried not to look at her.

Dan picked at the crumbs
on his plate. “Alright, I agree, but I think more discipline is in order.”

“By all means, Mr.
Cannon,” she retorted with a sideways glance of her intensely blue eyes. “I
look forward to more discipline.”

“Fine with me,” Alex
muttered, allowing himself a quick look to rake over her exposed breasts and
immediately regretting his lapse. “Dan?”

She walked across the
short distance like a queen, arriving at the bunk bed in silence. Without
hesitation, she unfastened her jeans, and shoved them to her thighs.

“Alex, want to do the
honors?” Dan asked, standing now but still picking at the last of his cake.

“Sure,” Alex gritted,
faking nonchalance. He fumbled around on the top bunk for the cord then
fastened a slip knot around one of her wrists. Her smooth skin felt cool under
his hands, perhaps because his body temperature had rocketed to a highly
fevered state. With shaky hands, he brought up her other wrist and fastened it.

“Umm.”
His quiet groan escaped from his
throat.  Without his conscious intent, his hands briefly brushed down over
the sides of her breasts and then tugged at her panties until they cupped the
bottom curve of her buttocks.
Fucking perfection.
He
had never seen a body that excited him like this. And the hellish thing about
it was that she responded to his touch in a clearly sexual way, leaning
slightly against him, moving her hips as his hands lingered at her panties.

He swore under his breath
and steeled himself to step back, when everything in him wanted to move toward
her. His eyes closed briefly while his mind instantly conjured a scene of his
hands spreading her legs, his tongue reaming her silken folds.

Dan appeared in his
peripheral vision, rolling up his sleeves. Alex turned away as Dan seized the
paddle. He wasn’t sure he could watch this. But somehow, he couldn’t help
himself. It was a fucking train wreck. He’d never imagined a woman wanting to
be hurt. It didn’t make sense.

But even before the
wooden paddle streaked across her naked ass cheeks, he saw perspiration film
over her body in anticipation of its sting. Her thighs and buttocks clenched.
Did he actually see a pulse of moisture between her thighs?

Whack!
Her body shocked in reaction and
faint sound issued from her throat. His fists clenched.

Whack!
Another red spot instantly appeared
across those rounded buttocks. Her breasts rocked forward against the corner
post, and he hated Dan, could have killed him with his bare hands.  He
didn’t understand how he could do this. The bastard seemed to be enjoying
himself.

He searched her face for
some hint of how she could endure this. With her eyes closed, she had clasped
her lip between her teeth, and uttered a faint moan. He took another step back
as his hands clenched and unclenched.

The paddle swooshed through
the air again.
Whack!
  Another vicious red spot appeared on her
white skin.

Alex wanted to tear his
gaze away from the spectacle, but couldn’t. Her legs trembled and he could see
more moisture on her thighs. Christ. She was getting off on this.
Whack!
Whack!
  A fresh wave of sweat gleamed on her skin in the dim
lantern light. Moans escaped her throat. His cock strained against the front of
his jeans.

Whack!
Whack!
 

Was anybody keeping
count? How far would Dan go?

Slightly out of breath,
Dan moved away. “I’m good,” he said in a tight voice. “Take her down.”

“Okay. Christ,” Alex
managed to speak through his rigid throat. What did her moans mean? She had to
feel pain from this. A red glow tinged her buttocks, clearly visible even in
the dim lantern light. He wanted to smooth his hands over her tortured skin,
slide his lips over the hurt,
gently
ease away the
burn he knew she must feel. His hands shook as he pulled at the cords to
release her.

With a quick rub of her
wrists, she grabbed her jeans and pulled them up, quickly covering her
beautiful ass. Then she knelt.

“Anything further
discipline you require, sir?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Alex wanted to weep, rush
to her,
hold
her in his arms. He fought down the fury
he felt toward Dan.

“No, that’s all.”

At least Dan’s voice
carried a note of humility, and he did take her elbow to help her stand. There
was an awkward silence as she walked past the table to retrieve her shirt and
bra. Immobilized, Alex couldn’t stop his eyes following her every move as she
dressed. Each garment covered up more of her skin, breaking his heart in
increments.

“Will there be anything
else?” she asked, sliding her arms into her jacket.

“Yes,” Alex glanced at
Dan and cleared his throat. “We’ll be coming up to the house in the morning.
We’ll pay for the rest of the two weeks and shower, if that’s okay.” Alex
turned slightly to check with Dan as he shaved off more cake and popped it into
his mouth. “Dan?”

“Sounds good to me,” he
said around his mouthful.

The
animal.
He’d just
laid welts on this woman’s gorgeous ass and he was stuffing more cake in his
face. Alex forced himself to breathe.

“What time?”

“Let’s say, seven?”

“That’ll be great.” She
picked up the heavy box of dishes.

“Here, let me carry
that,” Alex blurted, stepping over to take the box out of her arms.

“Thanks,” she said, her
eyes capturing his glance for a moment as she held the door for him.

He set the box where she
pointed and stood back as she strapped it down and started the four-wheeler. A confusion
of conflicting emotions swept over him. It seemed like there were things that
needed to be said. He needed to be reassured. But what the hell did you ask
someone who enjoyed this kind of treatment?

He stood beside her, her
face and body illuminated by the faint back glow of the four-wheeler
headlights. His hand swept over her hair and he wanted to kiss her.

“Great
dinner.”
He
nodded, hesitating. Surely he could do better than that. “Are you—really okay
with all this?”

“Yes, I…I know it seems
odd, maybe, especially to someone who hasn’t experienced it before. I assume
you haven’t?”

He shook his head.

She smiled. “Then you’ll
have to take my word for it. I trust Dan. And I enjoy yielding to a master.
It’s, uh,” she cleared her throat and looked down. “It’s a turn-on for me. And
I want you both satisfied.
Whatever it takes.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it,”
he managed with a broad smile. What was she trying to say, that now she was
turned on and wanted more? Wanted sex? “I’m relieved to hear you say that. It sure
as hell doesn’t look like something enjoyable.”

He hesitated again before
turning back to the cabin. Why did she enjoy it? What went on in her head? He
had a thousand questions, and would have loved to spend the next several days
staring into her eyes and drinking in every bit of her. Kiss away any hurt.
Drive his aching cock into her wet center until they both collapsed. Not part
of the deal, he chastised himself. Stop this.

***

Bryn steered the four-wheeler in a
wide arc to head back to the house, watching him walk slowly back inside the
cabin. Had he meant to do or say something else? Wouldn’t it be glorious if he
followed her to the house and made crazy passionate love? Something about him
kept growing on her, tugging her closer, and that scared the hell out of her.
The last two nights had been like foreplay, tonight more than ever with her
breasts exposed in humiliation and her ass burned by the paddle. Her body
longed for more.
From Alex.

But she sure as hell had
no business asking him, or for that matter, even thinking about him. The
situation remained entirely in their control and needed to stay that way until
the end. This was business. They were the clients. She couldn’t make this about
what she wanted. What she shouldn’t be wanting. What the hell was she doing,
thinking of or wanting anything to do with men?

Shadows rolled past as
she eased the vehicle up the long drive to the house, her mind still struggling
between wonder over what Alex thought of her and her frustration that she
thought about him at all.

The
day had drained her, and
whatever
weird energy she had gained from the spanking, she spent all of it and more
tearing around her house to clean up. The bathroom had been only hers to see,
and she wasn’t one of those clean-freaks who felt compelled to scrub daily.
Finally she had everything in the bathroom sparkling, but considering they
would have to go through her bedroom to get to the bathroom, she needed to hang
up clothes and cram stuff in the laundry basket and generally straighten up.

It was ten p.m. by the
time the place seemed acceptable, although she probably could spend a couple of
days in the whole house mopping and dusting and organizing everything if she
wanted to bring it up to her real standards. She had to admit it wouldn’t hurt
to pay more attention to her standards. It had been easy to crawl into this
hidey hole after
Ethan,
pretend the rest of the world
didn’t exist. Once the few leftover dollars from the mortgage had been spent on
a new cook stove and bathtub, and she had settled into the house, what did it
really matter if she kept the place spotless?

She had focused on
getting a job, throwing herself into work as things went from bad to worse.
Just like with Ethan, she had believed what she wanted to believe and somehow
missed the rest of the iceberg—until it wrecked her, forced her to face her
overwhelming stupidity, or incompetence, or whatever it was.

Why hadn’t she realized
that Ethan’s adventurous lifestyle far outpaced their income? She’d been swept
along, excited by his brilliant mind and reckless pleasure-seeking, all
seemingly a perfect match for her conservative upbringing and her need to break
out. He thrilled her, taught her things,
encouraged
her to be brave. The whole experience of her life with Ethan rushed by like a
breathless roller-coaster ride. She still hadn’t come to terms with the
sinister side he had never let her see, the cravings he valued more than he
valued her. She shook her head, angry to go over all that again.
Done, over with, shut up.

Her friends had tried to
reassure her. At the goodbye party, Wade and Stephanie handed her a photo of
the whole gang with Ethan’s head cut out. She had laughed, slightly reassured
that what they said might be true, that everybody makes mistakes. But since
then she wondered if she was the one with the missing head, making decisions
that ran her up blind alleys, working for losers like Brent Thompson.