The Cowboy From Down Under (Cowboys After Dark: Book 2) Read online

  “Derrick, I have a question.”

  “Go ahead,” he replied.

  “I know we were planning to hike up Canobolas today, but would it be possible to ride a couple of horses around your property instead?”

  “No worries,” he nodded. “Are you a good rider, or just someone who sits on a horse.”

  “I can ride, english or western, it doesn’t matter,” she assured him, “and I bring my gear whenever I travel. Some of my best photo’s have been taken from the back of a horse.”

  “Ever ridden in a stock saddle?”

  “Sure, many times, every time I’ve been here,” she giggled.

  “Now you’re just being cheeky,” he declared, raising his eyebrows.

  “Yes, I am,” she announced, “because your question begged it.”

  “You are somethin’ else,” he remarked shaking his head. “After breakfast we’ll head out to the barn and saddle up. There’s a real sweet mare called Josie. You’ll be good as gold on her.”

  “Good as gold?” she giggled. “I love that. Maybe we can do that hike when we return from the outback. Right now I want to conserve my energy. We’ll be doing a lot of walking when we get there, won’t we?”

  “Some, but we will have a car. The drive to the cabin is about thirty minutes. You’ll think you’ve landed on Mars,” he winked.

  “I’ve seen pictures that make it look that way. I want to find something different to shoot though, something unique.”

  “There’s a rock formation that’s off the beaten path. It’s a bear to get to but I think you’ll find it worthwhile.”

  “That sounds perfect, but the last time you took me to a rock…!” she remarked, tilting her head, a sardonic smile crossing her face. “Can you guarantee my safety?”

  “That depends on you,” he retorted.

  “It’s interesting how you talk,” she said, deciding to change the subject.

  “You mean my accent?”

  “No, yes, I mean, you talk like a normal person, then you throw something at me out of the blue, like, park your posterior.”

  Derrick laughed, shaking his head.

  “Missy, did you just say a normal person? What’s a normal person when he’s at home?”

  “You know, normal, regular,” she replied, unable to stop herself from grinning.

  “Of all the women I’ve met you’re the least normal by far. I think you’re beaut, but-”

  “But what?” she interrupted, “and I assume beaut is short for beautiful? Thank you.”

  “But nothing,” he chuckled, “and beaut means good, great, but sure, you’re beautiful too,” he smiled.

  “Enough of this,” she declared. “This breakfast is delicious, and I’m starving so I’m going to finish it. You’re an amazing cook.”

  There was a knock at the back door, and rising from the table he hurried across to answer it. One of the workers, dressed in rugged jeans and a dusty T-shirt, a weathered stockman’s hat on his head, looked every bit the Australian cowboy.

  “Gotta another fence down in the far back. Probably the bloody roo’s again. Me and Don are gonna ride out and fix ’er.”

  “Before you head out could you bring in Josie and Max, and give them a quick brush? I’m taking our guest out for a ride.”

  “No worries,” the worker replied, and hurried away.

  “I assume roos are kangaroos,” Emma remarked.

  “Yep. You want some more?” he asked, seeing her empty plate.

  “I would, but I think I’d better just have some tea,” she smiled. “Do you have many problems with kangaroos?”

  “They’re devils with the fencing,” he replied, passing her the teapot, “and remember, when we’re out there you follow my lead. Kangaroos aren’t warm and fuzzy. You do as I say, right?”

  Emma felt the delicious flip in her stomach, and looking at his purposeful, stern gaze, she nodded.

  “Yes, absolutely, I promise,” she assured him.

  “You know what will happen if you don’t,” he added.

  “Uh-huh,” she replied, and feeling the flush cross her face, she dropped her eyes and reached for the teapot.

  Derrick watched her submissive response, and wondered how a woman so beautiful, and so inclined to the joys of D/s, was unattached; she was a rare gem.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” she remarked, purposely changing the subject.

  “What question is that?”

  “Why do you speak so, you know, normally, then throw out these interesting phrases.”

  “Most likely because I went to school in both the UK and the States, and do business there as well. I don’t think my Aussie slang happens much when I’m out of the country, but when I’m home it seems to sneak back in.”

  “Can I say I think it’s really sexy?” she flirted.

  “Sure,” he grinned. “You can say that all day long.”

  They chatted happily, the air crackling between them as they downed the tea that signaled the end of their meal, and as Derrick stood up to clear the table, Emma rose to help him, carrying her plates to the sink.

  “Just put them on the bench,” he said.

  “You mean the counter,” she giggled.

  “No, I mean the bench,” he grinned, still standing at the table watching her. “Here, it’s called a bench.”

  “Well, maybe, but where I’m from it’s a counter,” she quipped, staring back at him, “so you can put your plates on the bench, and I’ll put mine on the counter.”

  There was a rebellious challenge in her sparkling eyes, and walking up to her he grabbed her wrists, held them tightly behind her back, and pulled her into him.

  “I’m kind of a movie buff,” he said.

  The swiftness with which he’d captured her had set her butterflies to flight, and her legs weak underneath her.

  “Interesting to know,” she managed, feigning complacency.

  “There’s a great line from an old Steve McQueen film called Cool Hand Luke. Do you know what that line is?”

  “I think I’m about to,” she breathed.

  “What we have here, is a failure to communicate.”

  Shifting his grip on her wrists to one hand, he brought the other to the back of her head, and clutching a fistful of hair he yanked it back. He held her, motionless, locking her gaze, then moved his lips to her neck.

  Closing her eyes she felt the goosebumps spring to life as his lips brushed her skin, carrying themselves from under her ear to the hollow of her neck, his inescapable grasp holding her still, then moving her head as he deigned, first tilting it one way, then the other. Shifting his leg between hers, he pressed his thigh against her sex, and any residual resistance evaporated as she sank into his power; he owned both her body and her heart, and she had never felt so free.

  “Emma,” he whispered, “do you want me?”

  “Yes, so much,” she confessed, her voice a hushed whisper.

  “Do you want me to make love to you?”

  “Yes, so much,” she moaned, “please.”

  “Keep your eyes closed, and don’t open them until I tell you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  She barely felt him lift her, the trip up the stairs was a fairytale, and when he laid her on his bed she was sure it was all a delicious dream from which she would regretfully wake, but as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse and slid it from her body, as he popped her bra and moved it down her arms, as he pulled off her shoes, then her socks, then unzipped her jeans and maneuvered them past her hips and down her legs, the raging need permeating her sex told her it was all very real. Filled with a deep and urgent craving, her fingers fell against the gusset of her panties to ease the aching need, but were met with a firm slap.

  “Did I say you could touch yourself?” he asked, as he continued to silently undress.

  His voice was deep and stern, and she yanked her hand away, the sweet sting on her fingers tingling up her arm.

  “Answer me, please,” he pre
ssed, his hot breath suddenly at her ear.

  “No, Sir,” she breathed.

  “Sir, that’s very good,” he purred. “You’ll be rewarded for that.”

  His words sent a pleasured shiver rippling across her skin, and when his tongue flicked over a nipple, she raised her chest inviting more, but to her dismay his mouth moved up her chest to chase the skin across her clavicle, licking and nipping, before finding her lips.

  Kissing her with a gentle softness, his hands slid down her arms to grip her wrists, moving them purposefully above her head. She could feel his nakedness, and as he moved on top of her she marveled at his heavy weight upon her willowy body.

  His wiry chest hairs brushed her nipples, and still the tender kiss continued, his lips consuming hers with a warm, loving need. Attempting to squeeze her thighs together, she released a muffled groan as his feet slid between hers and pushed them slightly apart, and still he kissed her. As his concrete cock pressed against her entrance, she tried to lift her pelvis to silently beg for its attention, but any movement was impossible under his leaden weight, and his amorous lips remained locked on hers.

  His fingers tightened around her wrists, his legs abruptly demanded she separate hers with a sharp, aggressive move, and his affectionate mouth became ardent and purposeful. He was sweeping her into a torrent of hunger, and when he finally slid his lips from hers to travel to her neck, she cried out her breathless need.

  “Please,” she begged, “please take me.”

  “Not yet, keep your arms where they are,” he mumbled, finally releasing her wrists.

  Rolling off her body, his hands fell upon her breasts, pinching and fondling, then gripping them tightly he brought his mouth to her nipples, moving rapidly from one to the other, sucking intensely, eliciting bleats of pleasure and pain.

  “Now I will take you,” he muttered, “first I will make love to you, then I will fuck you, and you will not come until I tell you.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she managed, shocked that he was dominating her as though it were a given, as if he already knew the dark desires that shadowed her waking hours and haunted her dreams.

  Grabbing the fragile lace on the side of her knickers he ripped it apart, and quickly tearing the opposite side he yanked them away. She gasped at the unexpected, torrid act, and as he knelt between her legs, pressing his cock against her wet, glorious slit, she wriggled salaciously, chasing its entry. He slipped in, but just an inch, and began to tantalize her clit with his thumb, pressing and circling.

  “Derrick, please,” she bleated.

  “Hmmm, you were so good, calling me Sir right off,” he murmured, tantalizing her sweet button. “I think perhaps you deserve it.”

  His complacent demeanor belied his fervor, his need to devour her requiring immense self-control, and as he thrust slowly forward he closed his eyes, drinking in the feel of her, then clutching her hips he began to move with measured, powerful strokes.

  Emma was lost in his engulfing passion, consumed by his words, his lips, and his commanding cock. Her body had never felt so alive, and as much as she wished she could open her eyes or move her arms, his instruction was serving to fuel the surging fire that burned through her being.

  Lowering his body, leaving his hardness buried in her depths, he dropped his mouth to her breasts to gently nibble.

  “You are so gorgeous,” he muttered, lifting his head and kissing her tenderly.

  “Derrick,” she breathed, “you make me feel…things…”

  Her brain wasn’t working, words weren’t forming, and things was all she could muster.

  “Mmmm,” he hummed, “and now you’ll feel more things.”

  Rising up he slowly withdrew, and flipping her over he gripped her hips, pulling her against his pelvis.

  “Elbows on the bed, and remember, keep your eyes closed.”

  She did as he said, knowing the position would lift her bottom high the air, and as he moved his palms across her seat she buried her head in the bedcovers, unnerved by the depth of her exposure. He razed her skin with his nails, moving them in circles over her upturned moons, banishing her sense of vulnerability as his artful touch made her gasp and moan, and when a finger slipped into her depths to ferret out her inner mystical button, she lewdly thrust back.

  It only took a moment for his success, the intense pleasure washing through her in an overwhelming tide, and when his hand scratching her skin lifted to deliver a hot smack, she threw back her head, yelping in surprised delight. Again his finger pressed and released, quickly followed by his slapping hand, and so it continued, the pleasure-pain roller coaster bringing her closer and closer to the summit of her waiting pleasure.

  “Things? Are you feeling things?” he crooned.

  “Oh, God, so many things,” she wailed.

  “Now sweet Emma, now I will fuck you,” he announced, and moving his hands to grip her hips, he surged his cock home

  “Oooh, Derrick,” she howled. “I’m so close.”

  “I know, but only when I say,” he growled.

  She waited, gripping the bedcovers, expecting he would pummel her, but he began slowly, and with each thrust he shifted her hips, as if searching out a favorite position.

  Derrick was seeking the sweet spot, the height and angle which would bring her the greatest joy. Closing his eyes, focusing on the finite feel, he found it, and accelerated his powerful, measured strokes. His cock, patiently waiting for its release, urgently told him it couldn’t hold back much longer, and her high-pitched cries signaled that her pussy too, was at the precipice.

  “Please,” she suddenly howled, “please, Derrick, please.”

  He stopped thrusting, and lifting his palm he landed a series of hot swats across her backside eliciting squeals of surprise, then grasping her hips he rode her forward.

  “Come for me in five-seconds,” he commanded, “one…two…three…”

  His count was shockingly on target; barely realizing it, she had released her body to his utter control.

  “Four…five…come for me now,” he demanded.

  Her back arched and her thighs tensed as a deep, shuddering convulsion hurtled her into a joyous spasm. A yowl of hedonistic glee escaped her lips melting into his heavy groans, but he was holding her tightly, continuing to thrust. As the delight threatened to dissipate, he rained several hot slaps on her crimson cheeks, and thrusting again, he sent a new wave of scintillating sensation through her sex.

  Her body was exploding in a euphoric ecstasy he wouldn’t allow to stop, and when finally he did, when his strokes lessened and her spasms abated, his flaccid member slipped away, leaving her to fall on her stomach, breathless and drained.

  Dropping next to her, he pulled her gently into him, cradling her against his chest.

  “I’ve never…” she panted.

  “You are indescribable,” he whispered.

  They rested, shrouded in their post-orgasmic blissful cloud, until he stirred, luxuriating in the feel of her nestling alongside him.

  “I’m so glad you decided you didn’t want to hike today,” he purred in her ear.

  “There’d be no way,” she mumbled. “Besides, I just walked to the top of Kilimanjaro and jumped off.”

  “And I was right there with you,” he murmured happily.

  “Derrick,” she breathed, moving slightly to stare up at him, “may I ask you something?”

  “Ask away.”

  “How did you know?”

  A soft smile crossed his lips.

  “You, my sweet Emma. You let me see you.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  After sharing a hot soapy shower, Derrick retrieved her suitcase and left her to dress, but the fact that he knew about the scene at the hotel pool was bothering him. He needed to tell her that he knew, and he needed it to be sooner rather than later.

  Emma had pulled out her riding britches, riding boots, and a pale blue cotton, short-sleeved shirt; the britches looked like tight jeans but for the suede knee patches that
offered extra security in the saddle. Trotting down the stairs she found Derrick waiting for her in the living room.

  “Wow,” he whistled.

  “What?” she grinned.

  “You look bonzer.”

  “Thanks, I think,” she giggled.

  Emma’s lithesome, trim figure was patently evident in the skin-hugging pants, and in spite of their intense, erotic encounter, Derrick’s cock stirred to life.

  “I think we’d better get out of here,” he declared.

  She laughed, pecking him on the cheek, and as they headed down to the barn she was floating on an emotional high. She had been swept away with such passionate ferocity he had stolen not only her breath, but her heart, and as Derrick reached down and took her hand, a fresh wave of butterflies fluttered to life.

  While Emma was floating, Derrick was confoundedly, deliriously happy. The kind of frenzied need he’d felt to make love to her he’d not experienced since he’d lost Suzy, and laying with Emma in the afterglow, he’d soaked in the deep, glorious feelings.

  They were nearing the barn, but as they approached, Emma’s voice began niggling at her.

  You gave into him so quickly. Was that wise? Will he think you make a habit of jumping into bed with guys you’ve just met?

  She tried to ignore the uneasiness, but as they entered the barn her worry grew, and she knew if she didn’t say anything it would drive her crazy.

  “Derrick, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” she said quietly.

  He stopped walking and turned to face her, a crease moving across his brow.

  “I thought you might,” he muttered, looking uncomfortable.

  “You did?”

  “I was going to bring it up myself while we were riding.”

  “You were?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “I just didn’t know quite how to broach it,” he continued.

  “You’re so sweet,” she sighed. “I just need you to know what happened isn’t a habit.”

  “I can’t imagine it would be,” he remarked.

  “I swear that’s the first time I’ve ever leapt into bed with someone I just met.”

  “Sorry, I’m confused,” he frowned. “For the record, I don’t make a habit of sleeping around either, but-”