The Cowboy's Secret (Cowboys After Dark: Book 3) Read online

  Having created her own success through renovating repossessed houses and selling them on, she didn’t need a man for financial support, but she would have welcomed a warm body in her bed, strong arms in times of difficulty, and someone to laugh with. The lack of sex, while she had enjoyed some passionate moments in her past, didn’t really bother her.

  The waitress returned with her beer, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Where’s the place you bought?” the girl asked.

  “On the other side of town. The owner’s name was Madley, they hadn’t lived there for some time.”

  “Yeah, Frank Madley, he got really sick and moved into the city. I guess you have horses then. I love horses.”

  “Yes, I have horses, quite a few. Tell you what, if you’re a good enough rider I’ll let you exercise a couple if you want,” Amelia offered. “I’ll be looking for some volunteers around the place. I’ll be running a rescue.”

  “Really? That’d be awesome,” the girl beamed.

  “Can I ask,” Amelia said tentatively, “why is Clint Hogan a hero?”

  The girl began giggling and turned a light shade of pink.

  “Um, he keeps order around here. At least, with the females in town.”

  “I don’t understand,” Amelia frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Best ask him, besides, Tom will shoot me if I gossip,” she whispered, and hurried away.

  More and more interesting. Who is this guy?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  At the ranch Clint Hogan was pacing, Amelia’s veiled invitation repeating itself in his head.

  Tom’s Tavern, I’ll remember that. Maybe I’ll stop in there tonight.

  He poured himself a shot of whiskey, downing it in a gulp, and shook his head as it burned down his throat.

  Maybe it wasn’t an invitation, maybe she was just talkin’.

  She was lettin’ you know she’d be there.

  She said maybe.

  Yeah, she did say maybe.

  You wanna go, you wanna go real bad.

  Yep, I can taste those french fries.

  French fries my ass.

  Shit. I can’t live the rest of my life like I have been, not unless I become a frickin’ monk.

  Dip your toe in the water. See how it feels. Maybe it’ll be okay.

  Giving into the temptation he marched to the door, grabbed his jacket and hat, and headed out through the kitchen to his garage. As he drove the short distance his inner voices continued their debate, and when he pulled into the parking lot of Tom’s Tavern and saw her car, he turned off the engine, strumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

  It’s just a bite to eat.

  Slippery slope…

  I’m here. I’m pokin’ my toe in the water.

  Stepping from the car he moved quickly through the chilly night up to the front door of the tavern, and pushing it open he scanned the tables. Not seeing her he headed to ‘his’ table, the quiet one in the corner by the window, but as he approached a frown crossed his brow. A half-empty glass of beer was sitting by itself, evidence the table was occupied.

  Damn, I guess I’ll sit at the bar, or maybe she’s in the restaurant. I should check there first.

  “Clint?”

  Her voice made him jump, and spinning around he found her standing directly behind him.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Rarely did Clint find himself at a loss for words, but the woman looking up at him was an even prettier version of the one he’d met at his ranch. Pale aqua eyeshadow and black curled eyelashes made her green eyes shine, and the soft pink blush and lipgloss made her mouth far too luscious. Her auburn hair was spilling in long glossy waves around her face, and her turquoise shirt showed of the inviting curve of her breasts.

  “Hi,” he stammered. “You look-very-uh-nice.”

  “Thanks,” she grinned. “I think my dinner is about to arrive. Would you like to join me? I saw how many fries they serve. I can’t imagine eating them all by myself.”

  “Fries? Oh, yes, they’re dynamite. Sure, I’ll sit with you,” he managed.

  “Great, I’m over here,” she declared, and walking past him she headed for ‘his’ table.

  “My favorite spot,” he remarked, doing his best to lift his eyes from the full moons swaying in front of him.

  Tucked into tight jeans, her bottom was almost more alluring than they had been that afternoon, and as he sat across from her he could feel his cock was finding the sight just as agreeable.

  “I’m glad you stopped in,” she smiled.

  “What did you order besides the fries?” he asked, not sure how to respond to her comment.

  “Barbecued chicken in a homemade spicy sauce,” she replied, parroting the menu.

  “Good choice. Evenin’, Marlene,” he nodded to the waitress as she approached the table.

  “Hey, Clint. What can I get ya?”

  “Got any of that chicken stew tonight, with the dumplin’s?”

  “Sure do!”

  “That’ll make me happy, and a beer, and one check, mine,” he added.

  “Really that’s not-” Amelia began, but he instantly held up his hand.

  “It’s not up for debate,” he said firmly.

  “I really-”

  “I wouldn’t argue with Clint Hogan if I were you,” the waitress tittered, then turning bright pink she scurried away.

  “What did she mean by that?” Amelia grinned. “She said something else as well, she said you were the town hero. Can you tell me more? If I’m having dinner with a hero I’d like to know what kind. Are you a superhero, or just a regular hero?” she laughed.

  Clint was studying his hands, and he met her eyes with a firm gaze.

  “Somebody once told me, never ask a question, the answer to which you might not want to hear.”

  It was a startling response, and delivered with such a somber tone Amelia frowned and shook her head.

  “I don’t understand,” she replied. “Being a hero is a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to get all heavy there,” he remarked, his features softening. “Just meant, you might not like why I’m a hero, and I need your help with Jiminy, so-”

  “You don’t have to worry about that! You won’t be able to keep me away from Jiminy,” she smiled, “but really, I’m dying of curiosity. Why are you a hero?”

  You should’ve stayed at the ranch and left her alone.

  I didn’t know she was gonna pepper me with questions.

  Tell her.

  You think?

  May as well get it outta the way. She’ll hear about it, better she hear it from you.

  You’re right, besides, she may like it.

  That be a good thing! A great thing!

  That would be a slippery slope thing…

  Amelia had been the studying the growing crease across his brow. What’s the big deal? Why is he being so weird about whatever it is?

  When he finally leaned back and took a deep breath she sensed he was going to tell her the story, and she leaned forward, eager to hear what he had to say.

  “Some time back,” he began, “almost a year now, I was in here by myself. It was a bad night, ton of rain, wind, tornado threat in the air, and this girl and her boyfriend came burstin’ in. They were both drenched. Turned out this girl was the local hell-raiser, and she’d lowered the convertible top on his car. Poor guy was beside himself.”

  Marlene arrived carrying his beer, and as she set it on the table he gave her a look. Her face turned pink, and without a word she hurried away; Amelia didn’t miss the quick, unspoken exchange.

  Is it my imagination or did he just silently scold her?

  “So, what happened?” she pressed, turning her attention back to the conversation.

  “Well,” he said, taking a swallow of his beer, then fixing her with a steady gaze, “the long and the short of it is, I spanked her.”

  Amelia felt a sudden flash of heat cross
her face which slowly began to spread through her body. It was an unfamiliar reaction to an unexpected piece of news, and a moment later she felt a flurry of butterflies; not knowing what to say or how to react she reached for her beer.

  “Turns out the girl had been a town troublemaker for a long time,” he continued, “but after that episode she cleaned up her act.”

  “Ah, I see,” she managed, and it wasn’t my imagination, you did just scold that girl. Holy crap.

  “There’s more,” he admitted, “but that’s the gist of it.” I should tell you the more, but you’ve got a lovely blush across your face, and I suspect that’s about all you can handle for now.

  Amelia was so astonished by his confession she was completely unaware that the young waitress had approached the table with their food.

  “Barbecue chicken for you,” Marlene announced, almost making Amelia jump as the dish was placed in front of her. “Chicken stew with dumplings for you, Clint, and I’ll put these fries in the middle.”

  “Thanks,” Clint smiled.

  “It smells delicious,” Amelia remarked, relieved at the distraction.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,” the waitress said lightly.

  As Amelia began to eat she found her composure, and looking across at him she asked,

  “Is that something you make a habit of, or was it an exceptional circumstance?”

  It was Clint’s turn to feel surprised, but without batting an eye he took a mouthful of his stew, chewed slowly, swallowed, then responded.

  “Let’s just say, if called upon, or if it seems like a good idea at the time, I’m happy to oblige.”

  Amelia could sense something changing; there was a charge in the air, a sexual electricity sparking between them, and she recalled the man and young woman at his guest house, how the man had stayed outside, and Clint had remained inside with the girl.

  Damn, was he spanking her in there? This is just too…damn, I can’t even think of the word…tantalizing?

  “This afternoon, when your appointment arrived, was that any way connected to…I mean, was she there to…uh-”

  “What exactly are you asking me?” he interrupted, a slight edge to his voice.

  “You know,” she frowned, wishing she’d not started down the road. He was staring at her intently, and she was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable.

  “No, I don’t,” he replied.

  “I noticed the couple who visited you this afternoon, the appointment you had, and how the guy came out and sat on the porch,” she stammered.

  “You noticed that did you?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

  “Ah, kind of,” she muttered.

  “And what is it you want to know?” he pressed.

  “Were you spanking her too?” she breathed, feeling a fresh wave of heat.

  He paused, frowned, drank some beer, then turned back to his meal.

  “Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have asked,” she muttered, feeling completely embarrassed. “I have a tendency to be kind of, overly curious I guess.”

  “Is that right?” he murmured, still looking at his food.

  “My dad always said, the only stupid question is the one not asked,” she added.

  “Did he ever mention anything about curiosity and a cat?” he retorted.

  “Sorry,” she repeated. “Did my question make you mad?”

  “No, not mad,” he replied, shaking his head, “I’m just surprised.”

  “Surprised because…?”

  “Because, for starters, I thought your entire focus was on Jiminy this afternoon, and let’s see, how should I put this, you’re not exactly shy about things, are you Amelia?”

  “Uh, well, being this way is how I got where I am,” she said defensively.

  “Where is that exactly?” he asked, lifting his eyes to stare directly into hers.

  “Independent, successful, able to buy my own place and have my horses, that kind of thing,” she said, feeling slightly defensive and wondering how the fun, light conversation had suddenly turned into something awkward.

  “You like being independent?” he asked, or are you quietly frustrated, wishing you had a man to lean on, someone to help fight your battles, someone to challenge you, a man to take control of your body and-

  “It has its advantages,” she nodded, and why are you looking at me like that?

  “Would you like to come back tomorrow and ride again?”

  “Uh, sure,” she answered, taken aback by the abrupt change in the subject. “What time?”

  “Around 2 p.m. would be good,” he replied, turning his attention back to his meal.

  “Clint,” she said quietly.

  “Yep?”

  “You never did answer my question.”

  “I know,” he replied, and tilting his head he fixed her with his inscrutable gaze. “I suggest you think more about the cat.”

  The butterflies began their fluttering, and she felt her thighs squeeze together under the table.

  I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but damn, I love it. Please, don’t stop!

  They finished their meal, and though they’d both attempted light conversation about the logistics involved in setting up her new property in readiness for her horses, the sparkling energy between them had remained sparkling.

  He walked her to her car, tipped his hat, and disappeared into the night. An hour later when she finally climbed between the sheets, though she had much to plan and organize, it was Clint who stayed with her as she fell asleep, coming alive in her dreams.

  “Yes, of course I’m going to spank you. What did you expect?”

  She saw his hand reach for hers, and as he spun her around and made her face the wall she held her breath. His hand traced across her backside, and as he spanked down, his palm sending a sparking heat where it landed, she bit her lower lip to keep from crying out.

  Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright in bed.

  Holy crap! What the hell was that?

  Heart hammering she stared around the still unfamiliar bedroom, the only light coming from the LED clock at her bedside. Panting, she slid back under the covers, and unable to ignore the need between her legs she sent her fingers to dance against her sex.

  Closing her eyes she relived the dream, and his words from dinner echoed through her head.

  If called upon, or if it seems like a good idea at the time, I’m happy to oblige…I suggest you think more about the cat.

  Her finger rubbed her clit, swirling urgently, and her imagination took over; his lips were at her neck, kissing her as he spanked, and she was thrusting her bottom out for more.

  “You are naughty, nosey girl,” he breathed, his palm landing smack after smack, “aren’t you, Amelia.”

  “Yes, Clint, I am,” she gasped.

  The orgasm was drawing near, and gritting her teeth she chased the moment, hearing his voice as clearly as if he were in the room with her.

  “I’m going to spank you for a really long time, slowly, and hard, and when I pull these jeans down I’m going to see a very red backside, and then I’m going to spank you some more.”

  The explosion rocketed through her, stars exploding in her brain, her fingers milking furiously until her spasms released her and she fell limp, utterly spent.

  Damn, do I want him to spank me? I guess I must. Do I?

  Breathing heavily she closed her eyes, and cloaked in her post-orgasmic bliss she drifted away.

  On the other side of town Clint was not so lucky. Sleep had evaded him altogether, and standing in his living room slowly sipping a scotch he flopped down on the couch.

  Amelia had tapped gently upon the door of his heart. Her impish grin had made him shake his head; her pointed interrogation had puzzled him, then angered him, then made him smile; her grey cells had intrigued him; her ability to handle a horse had won his respect, and the warm, pink, embarrassed flush that had crossed her face when he’d told her about spanking Cindy Newman had sent a breath of s
picy life into his cock. In that moment he knew she wanted to experience what he had to offer.

  Leaning his head back he closed his eyes. He had been living in a self-imposed exile, and the need to feel female flesh against his own was suddenly overwhelming.

  I was doin’ fine till you came waltzing up my driveway, Amelia Anderson.

  Not really. You weren’t doin’ fine, you’ve been like a car runnin’ on the smell of a gas rag. How’s the toe feelin’ after that dip.

  My foot wants to follow.

  Gulping down the last of his scotch, he wandered back into his room, tossed his robe, and falling back in bed he finally succumbed to a few hours sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Amelia and Clint had fallen into a routine. For several days she had arrived at his ranch at precisely 2 p.m. to ride Jiminy. Clint would help her into the saddle, then loiter for a while, watching her until his cock would send him home. Locking the door to his bathroom he’d rub himself to a satisfying release, his imagination focused on bending her over his knee, spanking her lustily, then making glorious love to her.

  After catching his breath he’d return to his kitchen window to drink a mug of coffee and watch her finish her ride, each day seeing her confidence grow as the horse understood her more, each day the pair looking increasingly as if they belonged together. Regardless of the antics of the other horses in the nearby paddocks, Jiminy was always a perfect gentleman, and it was clear he was thriving under Amelia’s attention.

  He’d resist the urge to wander back down and say goodbye, doing his best to keep his distance, but as her car drove away he’d be filled with a bittersweet longing; from nowhere she’d dropped into his life delivering the warm female companionship he missed so much, but it was heavily laced with a growing need to bring her into his home and gather her into his arms.

  Amelia quickly sensed his conflict. He wanted her; his attraction was evident, and though she couldn’t be certain she was sure that after he wandered away from the riding ring he would continue to watch her from his house.