Rough Cowboy Page 5
“I’m gettin’ out, and you might take it in your head to drive off. Not a good idea when you’re upset.”
As she heard him climb out and walk around to her side of the Jeep, she told herself she needed to get a grip. Consciously forcing herself to lower her hands, she closed her eyes and took a very long, very deep breath. Holding it in as she silently counted to three, she slowly exhaled. The elderly cowboy who had taught her how to speak horse had taught her the trick.
“When you’re dealin’ with a panicky animal you’ve gotta stay calm, real calm,” he’d said, his blue eyes filled with years of wisdom. “If you’re heart’s beatin’ like a rim shot, take a breath, hold it for three seconds, think about blowin’ away all the nerves you’re feelin’, then let it out. If it’s safe, do it with your eyes closed. The horse is all about energy, and you’re his leader. He’ll pick up whatever you’re feelin’. If you’re anxious, he’ll be anxious.”
It was the first thing she’d done with Bonny when she’d met her in the round pen. The mare’s neck had stiffened, but Megan had quickly settled her, and their former bond bloomed to the surface. Opening her eyes, she looked across at Bonny’s paddock and felt her heart swell.
“Whoever owns you doesn’t understand you at all,” Megan mumbled, thinking how nervous Bonny had been in those first few seconds. “I’m going to move heaven and earth to keep you here. I promise.”
But her car door suddenly opened, snapping her from her thoughts.
“Get out.”
Jerking her head around, she saw Brad’s handsome face staring back at her, but there was no scowl creasing his forehead, or anger in his eyes.
“We’re goin’ up to the loft.”
She knew what was coming. He was going to spank her, and no amount of pleading, squealing, or protest would change his mind. Three years before he’d made her a promise, and he was a man of his word.
Resigned to her fate, and undeniably titillated in spite of her trepidation, she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out. Taking her hand, he led her toward the stairs. His long, thick fingers were firm around hers, but not uncomfortable. As he led her forward she remembered how mischievous she’d felt when she’d called him earlier. How she’d planned to provoke him into putting her over his knee by admitting she’d been the one who’d caused the ruckus.
Be careful what you wish for.
As they reached the top of the stairs and he guided her toward the bed, the old adage echoed through her brain.
* * *
Brad had been a dominant for many years, though he scratched his itch far away from the small community. Punishing Megan held an element of risk, but his experienced eye had recognized her craving. She not only wanted to be over his knee, he was fairly certain she’d been thinking of little else since he’d warned her. Now faced with the prospect of her fantasy becoming a reality, her reaction, although dramatic, had been predictable. He was beginning to think Megan was prone to drama. Given her horse-handling skills it was surprising. Reaching the bed, he sat her down, and as he settled next to her, he heard her take a deep breath, hold it, then let out it.
“I really am sorry.”
Her mumbled apology was exactly what he’d expected.
“About?”
“What happened that day. I didn’t see you until it was too late. You were in the shade. I wouldn’t have ridden over there if I’d known.”
“That’s the whole point of makin’ an area off limits. Knowin’ or not knowin’ doesn’t come into the equation. Off limits means off limits, and it prevents situations like that from happenin’. That area is designated for vets and farriers so they can work on the horses in ideal conditions. Bein’ sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m gonna spank you just as I promised, and we’ll talk about your future here when I’m done.”
She’d been staring at the floor, and lifting her gaze, she studied him with worry in her sparkling green eyes. But he also saw erotic hunger, the same hunger he’d felt the day before.
Something was happening between them.
“You said you’re sorry,” he said, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.
“I am, I swear.”
“Do you deserve to be punished?”
Her forehead crinkled, and he watched a fresh pink blush cross her face.
“I, uh, I suppose I do.”
“Suppose?”
“Okay!” she said hastily, her voice tinged with defiance. “I do. There. I said it.”
“Don’t be takin’ that tone with me, little lady.”
“Why are you making this so difficult?”
“Difficult? You’re callin’ this difficult? I’ll tell you about difficult. Difficult is holdin’ a red-hot metal shoe while fifteen-hundred pounds of powerful horse flesh is leapin’ in the air and about to break outta cross ties because a reckless, inconsiderate spoiled brat decided to ignore the rules!”
“I don’t know what to say,” she whimpered, cringing under his scalding reprimand and sending her eyes back to the floor.
“We’re startin’ again. Do you deserve to be punished?”
“Yes,” she mewled. “I think I just realized how bad it was for you.”
“About time, and it’s yes, Sir!”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ask me.”
Catching her breath, she darted her gaze back to him.
“I’m waitin’.”
“Please, Sir, will you spank me for what I did that day?”
“I sure will. Lay over my knee.”
Awkwardly crawling forward, she squirmed as she tried to find a position. As his eyes fell on her wriggling, curvaceous backside, he imagined how delicious it would be to pull down her jeans, then her panties, and finally feast his eyes on her naked bottom. It would be blushing by then, but she wouldn’t be off his lap until it was beet red.
* * *
Megan had never imagined how challenging it would be to search out a comfortable area on a man’s lap. Grunting as she continued to struggle, she felt his hands suddenly grab her and lift her toward the bed. Throwing her arms out in front of her, she finally found she could rest her torso on the mattress, but every nerve in her body twitched, her pulse raced, and the butterflies in her stomach were in a frenzy.
“When was the last time you had your butt smacked?”
His question had been delivered in a stern voice, and she’d felt his leg move over the back of her knees.
“Uh, never.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“No wonder you have trouble with boundaries. Listen and listen good, little lady. You break my rules, this is where you’ll end up. I told you that earlier, but I’ve gotta feelin’ you didn’t believe me. You do now though, right?”
“Yes, Sir, definitely.”
“You can yell all you want. No one’s gonna hear you, except maybe Catch if he comes lookin’ for me when he wakes up from his nap.”
“Oh, my God,” she bleated, squirming as she muttered the words.
“What?”
“I’ll want to yell?”
“I reckon so.”
His hand suddenly landed on the center of her backside, and though she didn’t cry out, she gasped, more in shock than in pain. He struck again, then again, and continued to slap her on the same spot, but slowly. Though it stung, the hurt wasn’t bad, and being stretched across his knees felt sexy. Resting her head in her arms, she closed her eyes, thinking the punishment wouldn’t be as awful as she feared, but a moment later his rhythmic slaps accelerated. Not only was he delivering the swats faster, he was hitting her harder—and it hurt.
“Ow. Ow. Okay, Brad, that’s enough!”
He paused. “Enough? Did you just say that’s enough?”
“Uh-huh. My ass is stinging. You can stop now.”
“You’ve gotta lot to learn. Rule number one. The only person who
decides when you’ve had enough is me, and if you tell me to stop I’ll spank you longer and harder.”
“But I said I was sorry, and I meant it!”
“And I said I was gonna spank your ass so hard you wouldn’t sit in a saddle for a week. I meant that too. Stand up.”
“Stand up?”
“Rule number two. When I tell you to do something, do it!”
Shocked and confused, but immensely relieved, she pushed herself up off the bed.
“Thank you, Brad,” she murmured, her lips curling in a sheepish smile.
“Whatta you thankin’ me for?”
“Uh, stopping.”
“What makes you think we’re done?”
“You asked me to get up.”
“Wrong. I didn’t ask you to get up, I instructed you to get up. There’s a difference.”
“There is?”
“Dang, girl, you need as much trainin’ as the horses that come in here. Askin’ means you’ve gotta choice. When I give an instruction, you say, yes, Sir, and obey. You don’t get to refuse or question me. Got it?”
“Uh, sure. Whatever.”
“Lord have mercy,” he muttered under his breath.
“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she said hastily. “I meant, whatever you want.”
“Stand in front of me, lock your fingers behind your neck and leave them there, and, Megan, that’s not a request, that’s an instruction!”
“Yes, Sir,” she dutifully replied, and though she had no idea what might be coming, she did as he said.
“These,” he declared, unbuttoning her jeans at the waist and pulling down the zipper, “are comin’ off.”
“What?”
He paused and stared up at her.
“Not another word, little lady. Not! One! Word! Lower your arms.”
Her butterflies had settled, but his threatening tone and the glint in his eye sent them back into their frantic fluttering. With a quick pull, he yanked down the Levis, and she suddenly knew why. Before she could protest or react, he grabbed her wrist and jerked her back over his lap. Landing with a squeal, his powerful arms shifted her into position, and his leg returned to lie over hers.
“Now I’m gonna whip this ass, and man-oh-man, do you need it!”
As his flattened palm began to rain hot slaps across her bottom, she gyrated her hips, yelping in protest.
“Yell all you want. It don’t matter to me,” he exclaimed, landing a volley of hard swats. “You deserve every dang smack!”
“Ooh, Sir, please, I’m so sorry.”
“Yep, I’ll just bet you are, and you’re gonna be a whole lot sorrier by the time I’m finished.”
* * *
Though she was squirming and yowling, he wasn’t spanking her as severely as he’d planned. If this was her first dose of corporal punishment, and he believed it was, just being over his knee would be mortifying, but determined to make sure her backside would be tender for some time, he continued spanking until her skin had turned a pretty pink.
“Catch your breath,” he said sternly, rubbing her punished backside.
“Oh, Sir, it stings so bad.”
“I hope you’re not complainin’.”
“Kind of. Ow. It hurts. Please, Sir, can I get up now?”
“Nope. We’re not done.”
She wriggled as she groaned, but she didn’t argue.
“Maybe we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he mumbled, slipping his hands into the waistband of her underwear.
“Ooh, Sir,” she bleated piteously. “Do you have to do that? Please don’t.”
“Hush up. Nice and pink, but not pink enough,” he declared, wrapping his arm around her hips and lifting them up. “Let’s get this ass nice and high where it needs to be. You sure have a beautiful backside, Megan. I swear, it was made for spankin’.”
Launching into a series of hard, fast blows on her naked skin, he ignored her as she squealed loudly and tried to throw her arms behind her back.
“Are you gonna obey the rules, little lady?”
“Yes, Sir, I will, I swear.”
“I don’t wanna hear any more of your lip!” he exclaimed, moving his hand to her sit spot. “If you sass me, you’ll be back over my knee before you can spit.”
“I’m so sorry I was rude that day. I won’t ever be rude again.”
“A few more real hard for good measure,” he declared, raising his arm high in the air and swinging it down.
“Ow, ooh, Sir.”
“Yep, a few more just like that.”
With each slow, fiery blow, she wailed loudly and continued to apologize, but he planned to deliver three on each cheek, and one on the tender area where her thighs met her bottom.
“There! You’ve been properly punished,” he announced, delivering the last swat. “I’ll rub away the sting for a little while, but while I do I want you thinkin’ about how you ended up over my knee. Then you’ll tell me if you’re gonna get in your Jeep and drive away, or if I’m gonna start bringing those boxes up here.”
Chapter Six
Wrapped up in Brad’s muscled arms, her jeans and panties still around her thighs, Megan’s bottom stung with a red-hot heat. Conflict swirled through her head. Logic told her she should be furious with him for spanking her so hard, but as she breathed in his masculine scent and rested her head against his chest, she never wanted the hug to end.
He had rubbed her scorched skin with a comforting caress, gently helped her stretch out on the bed, then to her great joy, he’d engulfed her. Closing her eyes, she’d snuggled into him, finding solace and reassurance.
His tenderness had surprised her, but everything about him seemed incongruous. His gruffness belied his kindness, his rough exterior didn’t match his beautiful home, and his apparent sexism didn’t coincide with his willingness to give her the opportunity to be his assistant trainer.
She couldn’t deny the emotion surging through her heart. In spite of what had just happened, she was crazy about him. She loved his take-charge manner, his no-nonsense attitude, and how he called things as he saw them. The men she’d dated in Southern California loved to play head games. She’d been subjected to endless hours of frustration, but Brad was a straight shooter, and to add spice to the mix, he’d been at a BDSM club.
“How are you doin’?”
His softly spoken question broke into her thoughts, and she slowly opened her eyes.
“I’m not sure how to answer that. My butt hurts, but you already know that.”
“Yep. Are you ready to tell me how you ended up over my knee?”
“That’s a no-brainer,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “Three years ago I was a complete idiot. I almost caused an awful accident, and instead of being sorry, I was—I don’t know what I was. Rude doesn’t seem a strong enough word. I was worse than rude, but I can tell you why. I was embarrassed that I’d done something so stupid. That made me defensive.”
“Did you just figure that out?”
“Actually, I did. I’d pushed the whole horrible scene to the back of my mind. You forced me to think about it again.”
He fell quiet, and shifting in his arms, she looked up at him.
“Brad, about the job,” she said softly. “You can bring up the boxes if you want.”
“You’re sayin’ you still wanna work here?”
“If you still want me.”
“My conditions are my conditions and they won’t change. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with that. Brad, why the frown? Are you surprised?”
“No, not surprised,” he murmured. “I’m glad. You’ve gotta lot to offer.”
“Thank you. Wow. Coming from you, that means a lot.”
“I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t think so. One thing though, you deal with the horses, and leave the clients to me. You can chat with them, and answer questions about their horses, but anything else that comes up, like the cost of trainin’, what I feed, other horses on the pr
operty, refer them to me. Now I’d better move those boxes.”
“Before we start doing that—”
“We? You’re not cartin’ boxes up those stairs.”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course I am.”
“Have you already forgotten you do what I say, or are you lookin’ for another spankin’?”
“No! My backside is sore enough, thank you very much.”
“Then don’t argue with me.”
“What about the small ones? Surely I can bring them up if they’re not heavy.”
“Dammit, girl,” he muttered, extricating himself from her limbs. “You’re relentless. No. That staircase has no bannister. It’s not safe. I’ve been meanin’ to put one up, and I will now that you’re here, but until I do, no carryin’ anything up those stairs. Is that clear enough for you?”
“Sorry, yes, it’s clear. I’ll stay put and get organized, but one more thing. Can you tell me about Bonny’s owner?”
“I don’t know much more than what I’ve already told you. She and her husband are big time. One of their horses won the Belmont last year.”
“Papa’s Boy?” she exclaimed. “Oh, my gosh!”
“That’s the one! Do you follow racing?”
“Only if it involves Furlong Farms, but if this Jennifer Roberts is married to the owner of Papa’s Boy, she has money. Maybe, if she’s open to selling Bonny, she won’t put a big price on her head. What do you think my chances are?”
“When I talked to her on the phone, she said her mare was athletic and talented, but had terrible ground manners, then she told me she was scared,” he said thoughtfully. “Those are words I don’t like to hear. They usually end up with the owner gettin’ hurt. What I’m tryin’ to say is, if she thinks the horse is too much for her, she might let her go.”
“No kidding. When someone’s scared it only makes things worse.”
“That’s the only reason I agreed to take her. If I’d turned her down and something had happened, I never would’ve forgiven myself,” Brad said, shaking his head. “She showed up here in a fancy rig, and when I opened the trailer doors, that horse came flyin’ outta the trailer, snortin’ and prancin’. That mare was wound tighter and sparked hotter than an electric fence! I took her straight into a paddock and let her be.”