Rope Burn: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 5 (4 page)

From behind her dark sunglasses, Tabbart scanned the countryside. She’d never been to this part of Texas before. Houston and Austin were big cities for foodies, but the Boot Knockers Ranch was far from urban.

Thank God.

Getting on that flight had taken a supreme act of courage. Between her sunglasses and her trademark tresses tamed into a severe ponytail, she would have gone unnoticed even on a 747. Thankfully the private flight staff hadn’t asked for her autograph.

Tall yellow grasses swished in a constant breeze on either side of the road. The driver was stoic and fixed on his task of delivering her to the end of the road leading to the ranch. She’d given him a false name, and as far as she could see, he didn’t recognize her.

The tension didn’t dissipate, though. She might still be caught at any moment. Behind the next bend could be a roadblock of paparazzi.

She folded her hands and drew a deep breath. Within minutes she would be with that hunk of man, Stowe. Since she’d last set eyes on him, he’d morphed into god status in her mind. She’d fantasized about seeing him again for so many days that he couldn’t possibly live up to her memories. Could he?

The silver sedan bumped through a pothole.

“Sorry for the rough road, ma’am.”

She didn’t speak, just raised a hand and gave a smile, unwilling to risk him knowing her voice. She burned to ask how much longer. By now Stowe would have been told she was coming. What did he think of her? Did he find her nervy? Or was it normal for him to be requested in such a way?

For the hundredth time since booking this trip, she thought about what he did for a living.
Sex therapist
seemed like a small description for what he really did. He had sex for a living, plain and simple.

And she’d paid for it.

A large sum for a taste of those bulging muscles and hard lips. There had been chemistry between them, she was sure of it. Maybe—

The thoughts she’d played and replayed over and over fell away as the driver slowed to a stop. Dust clouded around the vehicle, obscuring her view.

Then she saw it—a glimpse of black. A pickup truck with the door hanging open. She barely had time to conjure the words of the greeting she’d prepared when her door opened and a big male arm reached inside. Sprinkled with dark hair, a thick leather watch strapped around the wrist.

Her mind was wiped clean as she looked into a set of very dark eyes staring at her from under the black hat she’d come to know so well. The upward curl of his lip made her heart turn over painfully, then gallop out of control. She sat there like an idiot.

He gripped her hands and pulled her to her feet. She locked her knees to keep from falling over, then Stowe’s trim backside moved away from her. He opened the trunk of the car and hauled her luggage out.

When he spun and fixed her in his gaze again, she released the breath she’d been holding. Her pulse pounded in her ears. God, she was acting like a young girl with her first crush. She was a grown woman. She was…

At a sex ranch with the man of her fantasies.

Her pussy clenched.

“This all you got?” he drawled in that hot accent.

“Y-yes.” Stutter activated.

He grasped her forearm as he passed. The warmth and roughness of his hand on her bare arm scalded. Sweat broke out on her forehead. He opened the passenger door of the truck for her and guided her inside, then dumped her suitcase in the bed.

Her hand twitched to shove her glasses up and get a real look at him, but she couldn’t blow her cover. She watched as he swaggered back to the silver car, pulled his wallet from the back pocket of worn jeans—molded to his fine ass—and took out some bills. He handed them to the driver through the window. Then he tapped the car roof twice and the driver moved off in a new cloud of dust.

I’m alone with him.

In the middle of nowhere. He could do anything to her. Strip her, fuck her. God, she wanted both.

Who had she become? She barely recognized herself.

He got behind the driver’s wheel but didn’t start the engine. He pivoted his head to look at her, and she was given an up-close view of his beauty. Better yet, she was allowed to look without a camera rolling or too many eyes on them.

Unshaven jaw, square, with a small scar on the side. Lips that looked like granite, fine straight nose. His espresso eyes melted her from under two strong black brows. His hair curled slightly under his hat brim.

She folded her fingers into her fists to keep from pulling off his hat and touching his hair as she’d fantasized about for several weeks.

He reached across the truck cab and hooked a finger under the stem of her glasses. With a flick, she was exposed. A quiver ran through her system.

Dark eyes rested on hers.

“Hi, Tabbart.” Good thing he reminded her what her name was because she couldn’t recall it. “Welcome to the Boot Knockers Ranch.”

A flush climbed her throat and scorched her cheeks. “Thank you for picking me up. Your people told you…” She drifted off, embarrassed by why she was here and longing to get to that very part.

He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and made a zipping motion across his mouth. Her gaze lingered on his lips. “I’ll take care of you.”

The way he said that made her clamp her thighs together. So dark with promise. So ruggedly alpha.

“I hope Amelia isn’t embarrassed by me coming here.”

“She won’t utter a word, I promise.” He twisted the key in the ignition and did a maneuver on the road that made Tabbart grab the handle and squeal. The back of the truck spun around and the rest of the vehicle with it. Suddenly they were facing the other direction on the small gravel road.

He shot her a grin. “Hold on to your panties, love. Because I don’t go slow.”

As they shot down the road, she wondered if he meant more than his driving. Her stomach fluttered. Part of her hoped he’d just take her before she got any more awkward from nerves. But on the other hand, she didn’t know him. She wanted to talk to him, learn things.

Know how he kisses.

“You’re blushing,” he rumbled, giving her a sidelong look.

She fingered the tip of one hot ear. “I don’t know why.”

“Don’t you?” He cocked a brow, self-assured in a take-charge way that made her panties damp. When he looked at her, she felt electrically charged.

Silence vibrated in the air while they blasted toward the ranch.

“You couldn’t be blushing because you know once I get you beyond those gates up ahead…” he gestured and she followed his finger to the open wood and metal gates, “…you’ll be at my mercy.”

Her throat grew as dry as the dust following them. What did that mean? At his mercy? He could do almost anything to her. From what she knew from reading his profile, he was into kinky stuff—whips and ropes. It terrified her.

And thrilled her.

When she didn’t respond, he released a low chuckle. The fine hairs on her nape lifted, and she swore he zeroed in on them. His gaze licked over her hair and down to her breasts. “You look different with your hair up.”

“That’s what I was hoping.”

He stopped the truck with as much panache as he’d started it. They skidded around, facing a barn. He placed his big hand on her thigh, spanning the width and making her feel insanely small. She lifted her gaze to his.

“We have to cross the yard. No one’s here yet but you, but there’s some staff and other Boot Knockers.”

“Okay.” She slipped her sunglasses into place.

He climbed out of the truck and circled to her door. This time when the strong arm appeared in her line of vision, it felt more familiar. His rough fingers gripping hers roused her to a near fever, and she had no recollection of walking to one of the small wooden structures with the red roof.

“This is your home for a week, Ms. Tracy.” He pushed a door open and she stepped inside.

It smelled piney and woodsy, giving her an immediate feeling of entering a cozy hideaway. The decorations were simple in the front room—table and two chairs, sofa and bookshelf. TV hidden behind a wall panel.

She spun from it.

“We won’t be watching your cooking shows, if that’s what you’re worried about. Unless you’re into that kink.”

She giggled and removed her glasses. He set her suitcase down with a thump and her smaller bag followed. Facing her, he seemed to take up a huge amount of space.

“Maybe you shouldn’t call me Ms. Tracy.”

“Tabbart’s an unusual name. I think it would raise more eyebrows. But I have little intention of letting you walk out that door, Tabbart.” Her name rolled off his lips in a long, drawn-out way that made that heat stir in her belly again. He took a step toward her. She backed up and her spine hit the wall.

Stowe braced a hand on either side of her head and leaned in until she saw the golden flecks in his eyes. The scents of leather and something earthier filled her nose. She was terrific at picking out herbs by smell, but what was he wearing?

“Is that…sandalwood?”

A flash of white teeth. His chest brushed the tips of her nipples, rousing them to painful knots in a heartbeat. Her stomach hollowed out and seemed to fill with lava. It trickled down between her thighs.

“You know your stuff, love. Now do you want to freshen up after traveling? Or should I throw you into my bed straightaway?”

What had she signed up for? His directness threw her for a loop-de-loop, and her stomach followed. She could barely breathe with him so near.

He laughed and pushed away. Suddenly she had a respectable amount of personal space around herself. Somehow she missed the invasion.

He crooked a finger. “Follow me.” His chiseled ass in low-slung jeans filled her vision, and she scampered like a puppy after a bone.

She’d happily follow those buns off the nearest cliff.

An expansive bedroom suite stretched before her. King-size bed with snow-white linens. An electric fireplace against one wall and a fur rug in front of it. The atmosphere tricked her into believing she wasn’t on a Texas ranch but in a chateau with a ski slope nearby.

She drank everything in. When her gaze stopped on the gorgeous man she would spend a solid week alone with, her blush returned full force.

“Get cleaned up, love. Then we’ll talk.”

“Talk?” Brain. Gone.
Whoosh.

“Sure, with words and stuff. I plan to taste them as they come off those sweet lips.”

He was teasing her and she didn’t even care if he thought her an imbecile. That in itself was freedom.

When she didn’t move, her feet nailed to the floor, he reached behind her and wrapped his hand around her ponytail. The slight tug raised every hair on her body. Her nipples ached and her pussy throbbed.

How that happened was a mystery. He hadn’t even really touched her.

He pulled harder on her ponytail, directing her head back. Her lips fell open and her breathing grew choppy. His mouth hovered an inch from hers, stealing whatever was left of her mind. If he kept this up, she’d be rocking and drooling by the end of the week.

“Say ‘yes, Master’.”

She gasped. Her gaze flew to his and he pinned her with those brutally dark eyes.

“That’s how this works, Tabbart, and this is your first lesson in obedience.”

Was he serious? He wanted her to call him Master? Like some freaky blonde bimbo in a porn movie?

In the back of her mind, a small voice reminded her that she had read the bold print under his name on the website—The Dom from Down Under.

She knew little of BDSM, but apparently she’d signed herself up for a week-long course. Maybe…

He tugged harder, and the prickle on her scalp raised new goose bumps. He also had found some invisible string connected to her pussy. Her panties flooded.

“Yes, Master,” he prompted again.

“Y-yes.”

“Master.”

She swallowed hard. This went way beyond her comfort zone. She could call back the driver and hightail it out of here.

Or she could do what she’d come here to do.

“Mas…ter.”

“Good girl.” His words spiked a brand-new and forbidden need in her. He released his hold on her hair and gave her a small push in the direction of the bathroom. She went on wobbly legs, more confused than she’d ever been in her life.

When she faced the mirror, she barely knew the woman in the reflection. Her lips were wet. Had she licked them? Her eyes burned like candles. Through the thin jersey of her shirt, the sharp peaks of her nipples were clearly visible.

She used the bathroom and ran her wrists under cool water. Then she splashed some on her cheeks, but it did nothing to cut the heat there. She had a feeling only Stowe could do that.

He made me burn hotter.

She lifted her hands to her hair, prepared to remove the elastic holding it off her face. Then the memory of him yanking lightly on her ponytail stopped her.

She opened the door and stepped out. Cold metal snapped around her wrist, then Stowe caught her other hand. He pulled it around and clicked something into place. Shock tore through her. She stared down at the black fur cuffs binding her hands in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Was that even her voice?

He nudged off his cowboy hat. It rolled on the carpet. He ran his fingers over the cuffs, up to her elbows. Then, sagging at the knees, he looped her handcuffed hands around his neck. In one fluid motion he lifted her against his hard body and turned.

“Welcome to my bed.”

Chapter Three

A woman like Tabbart needed to be shoved out of her comfort zone—and fast. As soon as she got too cerebral, she’d be hiding in the bungalow with a book. Stowe wasn’t waiting for her to come to terms with what she was here for. He wanted to put her on a horse, so to speak, and slap its rump, sending her for a fast ride. Eventually she’d hang on.

He grinned down at her and her breaths came faster. Her body under his felt like the plushest cloud. He ground his hips and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Don’t you think we should take it slower?” Her voice came in short pants. While her head asked for slower, her body said the opposite.

Since he was all about consent, he’d grant her wish, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop touching her.

“You have the most beautiful hair.” He wrapped his fist around her sleek ponytail and let the silken mass slide through his palm. She shuddered.

“Maybe we should…uh, talk.”

“We are talking. But I want your body to know mine.” He braced his weight on his arms and made a rolling movement, pressing his chest to her breasts and his hips to hers. His erection throbbed in time to his heart. He hadn’t wanted a woman this bad in a while. Good thing he had self-control in spades.

He caught her gaze and held it. Gray flecked the outside edges of her irises. Again he was struck by how soft her features were, but he had to make sure one particular emotion was never spelled on her face.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

She started. “No.” She flicked her gaze away as if conducting an inner examination. “Should I be? I mean, you are the most frightening cowboy on the ranch.”

He couldn’t stop his grin if he wanted. “Is it the leather?”

“And the ropes and handcuffs.”

“My tools of the trade. Just as you have your cooking utensils.”

“But I can’t inflict harm with a whisk.”

He skimmed a finger over the shell of her ear, raising a full body shiver in her. Yes, her body knew him already. He needed her mind to catch up before he commanded it.

“I don’t inflict harm either. Not even with my crops or whips.”

She sank her teeth into her lower lip. The plump flesh pinned by her white tooth infused him with more lust. He wanted Tabbart with a deep ache, but slowly opening her like petals on the most delicate flower was as heady as the end result would be.

“Do you…have those here? Whips and things?”

He gave a slow nod. “Do you want to hear why I use them?”

“Y-yes. I don’t understand this at all.”

He rolled off, bringing her with him. She gasped as he settled her atop him so she felt every inch. She shifted. For a woman who stood in front of live audiences and TV cameras, she was mighty uncomfortable one-on-one.

With a light touch, he ran his hands over her nape, shoulders and spine. Each contour was new to him and yet familiar.

She held herself stiffly, but after he’d traced her spine several times, she issued a ragged breath and relaxed gingerly against him. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

“Lay atop a man while talking? Get used to it.” He eased a fingertip under the hem of her top and met goose bumps. Her eyes were starting to soften, her shoulders losing some of the tension.

“And you…do this often?”

“I will with you.” Actually, he used different ways to get into a woman’s psyche. He ran on gut instinct at all times, and he’d never been wrong. “How are your arms feeling? Hands okay in the cuffs?”

When she tested her bonds, her elbows jabbed into his chest, but he only smiled. She nodded. “They feel okay.”

“Good. If it ever gets to be too much, all you have to do is say a single word. That’s our next trust to establish here. You need a safe word.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know if I want the harder stuff you do.”

He rocked his hips, showing her just how damn hard he was. Aching. He wanted to plunge into her sweet body and watch her shake apart.

“Meaning, you fear my whip?”

“I don’t like pain.”

“Not many do, but this is different.”

“I don’t see how it could be.”

“It’s about giving up control, knowing that I will keep you safe and give you the ultimate pleasure. When you put your body into my hands, you’re free to explore your boundaries and lose yourself to new pleasures.”

“And we can do this in a week?”

He chuckled at her words and the crinkle between her dark brows. “We’re going to give it a damn good try.”

She worried her lip again. When she released it, wetness gleamed along her flesh. He wrapped his grip around her ponytail again and drew her down until their mouths were a scant breath away.

“Stowe…what if I want something…” Her gaze locked on his mouth.

“Vanilla?” he rumbled.

She nodded.

“You knew when you saw me on set that I’m not that kind of man. Don’t say you didn’t.”

Her eyelids fluttered. “You’re right.”

“You asked for me, love. You want this. Right?”

“Yes.” Her whispered admission sent a new spike of lust to his cock.

Using the tip of his thumb, he started to explore her. Tracing her delicate brow to temple, cheekbone. At the corner of her full lips he paused. A heartbeat throbbed between their gazes.

Then she did it. Turned in to his touch. He bit off a growl and skimmed his thumb across her lips, back and forth with tormenting slowness while his mind raced over images of rubbing his cock against her lips this very way.

She quaked, and he wrapped his arm around her, lashing her tightly to him. When he felt her body give in to his, his head spun.

“I need you to pick a word that means something to you. That you can pull out of your mind even if you feel far from words.”

“Uhh.” Her eyelids were lowering. She was softening toward him, and dammit, he could barely wait. His mouth watered to taste her.

“A word from your show? Your past?”

She wiggled, bringing her sweet heat against his boner. The groan broke from him, and she jerked. Stiffening, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for pleasing me. You only need to be sorry when you don’t.”

She quivered, then blurted, “Daisies.”

He was surprised by her chosen word. He’d expected something food or cooking-related. That she’d chosen a feminine word to match her exterior was beautiful to the extreme. His chest tightened.

Nodding, he said, “Here’s how this works. I’m going to kiss you. If you want me to stop, you say your safe word.”

“Daisies.”

“Yes.” He bracketed her face in his hands and pulled her down. The first crush of their lips drew a growl from him. Damn, she smelled good—tasted better. As he probed her soft lips, not even attempting to plunge his tongue into her hot depths as he wanted, he threw out his senses.

She breathed fast, and her pulse tripped under his fingertip. But she was sinking into him. When the fuzzy cuffs moved against his neck, he broke the kiss.

“Put your legs around me, love.”

She avoided his gaze as she did. That wouldn’t do.

“Look at me.”

Her gaze latched on to his. He held it prisoner as he slowly moved in for another kiss.

This one was nowhere near tame. He slammed his mouth against hers and thrust his tongue inside. She gasped and he swept her inner walls, tasting woman and even her nervousness. After years of reading a woman’s every move, from the beat of her heart to a glimmer in her eyes, he knew the taste of nerves.

He gripped her ponytail and kissed her until she grew boneless in his hold. He angled his head and drank more deeply from her. When small noises started to escape and the cuffs dug into his neck, he took it further.

Roving his hands over her spine to her ass, he teased her lips and tongue. When he filled his palms with her ripe globes, she pushed down against his erection.

“You want my cock buried in you. Say it.”

She blushed three shades and wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Look at me and say it.”

“I…Stowe.”

“Master. I’m your Master right now.” He grasped her hips and rolled her into the mattress. With her trapped under him, he burned to take it further and faster. Need pounded his system.

“I don’t know…”

“You came here for this, Tabbart. You want me, and this is who I am. I think you knew that.”

She stared at him for a full minute. Finally, she said, “I did. I do know.”

“Tell me you want my cock buried in your pussy.”

“I’ve never said anything like that in my life.”

“This is the time.” He snapped his hips upward, rubbing her pussy through her jeans with his cock. The scents of need filled the air along with her mewl of pleasure.

“I want…”

He waited. Rocked again.

“Your cock…” He heard the blush in her voice, “…buried in my pussy.”

“Master.”

Her chest heaved. Control slipping. Pupils blowing wide and the cuffs digging into his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss. “Master,” she whimpered.

He rewarded her with his kiss, fucking her mouth deep, then shallow, before biting her lips until she writhed. Then he removed her arms from around his neck and sprung the lock. Shock crossed her beautiful features.

“Not too much at once. I don’t want to damage these hands.” He brought one wrist to his lips and kissed along the fine bones and up the pale blue vein riding beneath her skin to her elbow. Then he took the other and turned her hand over, kissing knuckles, then sucking her fingertip into his mouth.

Her eyes rolled back in her head.

He climbed off the bed and stared down at her. “Get up and strip, Tabbart.”

She went dead still at his command. Would she accept it? She was a strong woman but he knew what she needed—to let go. With him. She’d chosen him, and that somehow heightened his desire.

He waited. As she pushed to her elbows and then set her feet on the floor, she was trembling. That was good. She wasn’t scared but her senses were going haywire. When he’d short-circuited them, he’d fuck her so deep she wouldn’t know where he ended and she began.

When she lifted shaking hands to her top, she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Look at me, love.”

He knew the intimacy he was demanding, but this was the only way to break down the walls between them. He might not know her favorite color or the name of her first pet, but he knew what she needed.

Without looking away, she ruched the top over her midriff. The creamy skin inspired a new kind of need in him—to see her wearing his marks.

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath.

Slowly she removed her top. Her ponytail settled over her spine, and her breasts beckoned in the expensive lace bra. Her round flesh spilled over the half cups, and his mouth suddenly grew dry as he saw tiny daisies trimming the edges.

So fucking feminine. Hell, going slow was bound to kill him.

The best death I could ask for.

“Pants too.”

She fumbled with the clasp and lowered the cloth over her hips. Matching panties were expected, but he was wrong. So fucking wrong. He clenched his hand into a fist to keep from rubbing it over his face. If her bra said “angel”, her panties screamed “devil”.

Black. Slinky. Thong.

His cock hardened to painful proportions and his fly was about to burst.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he growled.

The blush coated her skin, tingeing cheeks and the tops of her breasts. He throbbed.

“Do you want…the rest off?”

“Master,” he prompted.

Her gaze snapped to his. “Master.” It was coming easier now but still wasn’t rolling off her tongue. In time…

But they only had a week.

The urge to break her down to the framework of her soul flared hot.

“Pull your breasts out but don’t take off your bra.” He loved being a voyeur, watching a woman do his bidding. Pretty soon he’d have Tabbart on her knees, back arched, ass in air, posturing to accept his paddling.

A full-body shudder passed over her. She wet her kiss-swollen lips and dropped her gaze.

“Tabbart. Right here.” He spread his fingers and pointed to his eyes.

She looked at him and reached into her bra cups. When her tits were propped on the shelf of fabric, brown nipples distended and begging to be sucked, he closed the gap between them.

He wanted to catch her under the thighs and yank her off her feet, to toss her onto the bed. Then he’d followed her down, down and suck her tits until the guys in the neighboring bungalows knew who was pleasuring her.

“Touch yourself.”

She stopped breathing, face mottling red.

“A Master gives commands and you take them.”

“I’m allowed to say no.” She raised her jaw.

“Yes, you are,” he drawled, taking a step toward her. “But you want to please me. And in pleasing me, you get pleasure.”

Uncertainty danced over her features.

“You touch yourself when you’re alone. You pinch and tug and twist your pretty brown nipples.”

She broke out in a thin layer of perspiration and her chest heaved.

“You slide your fingers into your panties and plunge your fingers into your wet folds. Isn’t that right, love?” He rested his hands on her hips and she craned her neck to look up at him.

Good girl.

“Now touch yourself. Show me how hard you can make those pretty nipples. And don’t look away from me.” He pitched his voice low, urging her rather than commanding. When she raised her hands to her breasts and skimmed the tips with her palms, his heart hammered.

She moved with exquisite, cock-throbbing slowness, teasing the tips. Then she closed her thumbs and forefingers around each and rolled her nipples. He swallowed hard as he watched how she pleasured herself. Learning new ways to push her.

“Now your panties.” He stopped her as she started to get into her actions.

“Uhh.”

“Pull the front aside so I can see your pussy. I need to know if you’re bare.”

“I-I’m not.”

Fuck, yeah.

It took her several long moments to gather enough courage. Flashing a man she hadn’t had five dates with and rubbing her nipples in front of him took guts. He was so proud of her. She was more ready than even she probably knew.