The Cowboy's Secret (Cowboys After Dark: Book 3) Page 6
Why he was holding back was a mystery, and Amelia’s insatiable curiosity wouldn’t let her rest. Determined to learn more she’d searched the internet, convinced there had to be something about the successful cowboy, and while there were hundreds of men named Clint Hogan, after hours of late night searching she found none that were horse trainers, or came close to matching the man she’d met.
Standing on the mounting block after her ride, as she’d groom the big, beautiful horse, she’d stare up at his home on the knoll silently willing him to come back down, but he would remain absent, and once Jiminy was taken care of she’d climb into her car and drive away.
Her afternoon could continue, she’d hear not a peep from him, but at Tom’s Tavern in the evening she’d settle into the quiet table, and Clint would arrive, smile sheepishly from the door, then amble over to join her.
She’d let him steer the conversation however he wished, and when she tentatively probed about his past he would fluff off her questions and change the subject. Clint Hogan remained a mystery, and clearly that was how he wanted it.
The week had flown by, and feeling guilty that he’d insisted on paying for dinner every night she decided it was time to reciprocate, and the minute she stepped inside the restaurant she handed her credit card to their usual waitress, Marlene.
“If Clint joins me, I’m paying,” Amelia declared. “I’ll just pretend to go to the ladies room and sign the receipt so it won’t get all weird at the table.”
“Are you sure? I think he’s kind of old-fashioned. I don’t think he’ll like that,” the young waitress frowned.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Amelia replied, but Marlene was so earnest Amelia found herself having second thoughts when she saw Clint arrive and saunter towards her.
“You’ve got a funny look on your face,” he grinned as he sat down.
“I do? Can’t imagine why,” she lied.
“Hmmm, not sure I believe you,” he chuckled, “I think I might have some of those fries tonight. Will you share ’em with me?”
“You bet,” she nodded.
The meal was as enjoyable as always, and she thought Clint seemed more at ease. He chuckled easily at a few of her jokes, and drank two beers, not just his usual one. When they finished their coffee she excused herself, surreptitiously took care of the bill, and returned to the table.
“Where is that girl with the check?” he frowned.
“She’s not coming,” Amelia grinned. “Tonight it was my turn.”
“Say what?”
“I took care of it,” she beamed. “You’re letting me ride that wonderful horse, and you made me feel so welcome at your ranch it’s the least I could do, besides, you’ve paid every night, it’s my turn.
He locked her eyes, staring at her intently, and she felt herself grow warm under his judicious gaze.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a sweet girl to do it, but that don’t hold water with me. If I didn’t wanna buy you dinner I’d be sittin’ somewhere else.”
“But you shouldn’t have to-”
“You can stop right there,” he said firmly holding up his hand. “Like I said, that was real nice, and I thank you, but it won’t happen again, is that clear? You wanna buy me dinner, you make it for me sometime.”
Amelia felt her toes curl. The gentle reprimand had brought the butterflies to life, and as he frowned at her across the table they began fluttering wildly.
“I’d love to make you dinner,” she managed. “Whenever you want.”
“I’ll figure that out,” he smiled. “You comin’ again tomorrow?”
“Yes, absolutely, if that’s okay.”
“Yep, sure is. I’ve got some thing’s to take care of right before you arrive, but I’ll be done by two o’clock.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she began, “I hardly ever see your cowboys, not since that first day. I hope I’m not chasing them away.”
“Oh, no,” he assured her. “We train in the mornin’ and trail in the afternoon. It’s a reward for the horses, they love to go out.”
“That’s why your ranch is called Train and Trail Farm?”
“Yep, I’ve always done it that way. We put ’em through their paces startin’ right after breakfast, then they get to go out in the pastures and graze. Around one o’clock or so, the boys tack up and head out for a ride around the property. Keeps their heads on straight, both the horses and the boys.”
“That’s great. I don’t trail ride much, never have,” she admitted.
“One afternoon we can join the ride,” he offered, “and when your horses arrive they can come too. Be great for them.”
“Can’t be soon enough,” she groaned. “I’m still having trouble getting a decent contractor to work on those shelters and get the fencing done.”
“Let’s you and I have a talk about bringin’ your horses to my place until yours is ready. Kills me to think they’re in cages, and I’ll put you on to Sam McKenzie. He’s the guy who did my work, and he got it done fast. He’s in the next county but he’s real good, worth the extra expense.”
“Really? That would be fabulous. I really am struggling to find someone decent.”
“Tomorrow, after you ride, you can come on up to the house and we’ll figure it out,” he smiled.
“Super, thanks again, and in spite of what you said I’m really glad I bought you dinner,” she winked.
“You are a sassy girl,” he remarked, shaking his head, and one of these days I am gonna spank your butt.
“I’ve been called worse,” she giggled.
“I can only imagine,” he chuckled.
They left the table and headed into the parking lot, and as he’d done on previous nights he walked her to her car, holding the door open for her, but as she was about to climb in she paused.
“Clint,” she said softly, “is there any chance you could spare a hug?” Please, I’m aching to feel those arms around me.
An unidentifiable glimmer crossed his eyes, and he smiled down at her.
“Sure,” he replied, you have no idea how badly I want to hold you. No idea. I think about it all the time.
Resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder, she sank into his chest as his arms engulfed her.
Oooh, this feels even better than I thought it would. Clint, what is it that’s holding you back?
“That better?” he asked quietly, stepping back.
“Definitely, I needed that,” she answered, “thank you.”
“Any time,” he sighed.
The moon was resting low in the sky, its silver light washing across her face, making her emerald eyes appear to have been sprinkled with diamond dust.
“See you tomorrow, two o’clock,” he said hoarsely, and I wish you were climbin’ into my car and I was taking you home to my bed.
“Yes, you will,” she nodded.
As he ambled away, he paused, then turned to watch her drive from the parking lot.
This is goin’ somewhere.
Seems like it.
If you don’t want it to, you’d best end it now.
I do want it to.
You sure?
Nope.
But you’re thinkin’ it’s time?
Yep, I’m thinkin’ it’s time.
The moment Amelia walked into her house she stripped off, laid on her bed and dropped her fingers against her sex. Though she’d thought about him continuously, she’d not pleasured herself since the night he’d told her about spanking Cindy Newman, but the light scolding had tantalized her, and his hug had filled her with longing. Closing her eyes she let her mind wander, and the same fantasy that had floated into her mind the last time did so again; he had her hair wrapped in his fingers, he was pushing her against the wall, his lips were on her neck, and he was smacking her ass.
Fuck, why is this turning me on soooo much?
She could imagine him fingering her as he spanked, riding her on to an amazing climax, and a whispered threat th
at he would bare her bottom for the next round of smacks sent her tumbling into her climax. Drained and panting she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.
I have to experience this. I have to know what it’s like to be spanked. No, that’s not true. I have to know what it’s like to be spanked by him.
At his house Clint was seated at his desk looking over his schedule for the next few days. Sam, his third cowhand, would be returning from a week long show late the following morning, and Clint was eager to see him.
Sam had taken three horses to the big event, two of which had sold and just needed to clear a vet check. Sam wasn’t just an outstanding horseman and rider, he was a natural salesman, knowing instinctively when to push and when to sit back and let the buyer ponder. He’d been with Clint for many years, and Clint regarded him not just as his right-hand man, but a close, trusted friend. Sam knew all his secrets, including the one that had forced his move, and Clint was eager to talk to him about Amelia.
His schedule also reflected his 1:30 appointment with old man Tate and his bratty daughter Anastasia. Tate was one of the town’s wealthiest citizens, and had married a woman, Colette, many years his junior. They’d been blessed with a baby girl who turned out to be their only child and Tate’s single heir.
Having been doted on by both her mother and father she’d grown into an impossible teenager, and had taken over the title left by Cindy Newman as the community’s hell raiser. In desperation Tate had called Clint, and after visiting Tate’s house on a pretense, Anastasia having no idea why he was there, Clint knew in five minutes his services were not only justified, but badly needed. He’d hesitated only because the girl was still under eighteen, but old man Tate drew up a hastily written authorization, so Clint finally agreed.
Thirty minutes would be plenty of time to have a serious chat and deliver a sound spanking to the feisty young woman before Amelia arrived at 2 p.m.
Leaning back in his chair he smiled as he thought about the sneaky way Amelia had paid for dinner. It was charming and naughty and delightful, and he ached to give her beautiful bottom a sensuous spanking for her trouble.
I would tease you ’til you’d be begging to come, and then spank you some more with my cock buried in your gorgeous pussy. Oh, I know you have a gorgeous pussy, I just know it.
His momentary lapse sent him urgently from his office to his bedroom, and stripping quickly he massaged himself to a powerful, teeth clenching climax, then drifted off to sleep, the image of her face being kissed by the moon’s sliver light the last thing on his mind.
CHAPTER NINE
After unpacking some boxes, making phone calls to local tradesmen, and driving to her new home to make more notes about the changes she wanted to make to the interior of the house, she drove to Tom’s Tavern for some lunch.
As she settled into the same table by the window, Tom himself wandered across to take her order. The restaurant side was busy during that hour, but not the bar, and the waitresses didn’t start until 5 p.m.
“Hi there,” he smiled, “good to see you again. This is your first stop in here for lunch isn’t it?”
“It is, and I’m looking forward to it,” she replied.
“We haven’t been officially introduced, the name’s Tom Hanson.”
“I know,” she nodded, “and I’m Amelia Anderson. I just moved to the neighborhood and I’m so glad I found this place.”
“Glad to have you. I’ve seen you sittin’ with Clint Hogan every night. He a friend of yours?” Tom asked casually.
“No, I just met him about a week ago,” she replied.
“Huh,” he commented. That’s a first. Never seen him eat with a lady, let alone every night.
“Why?” she asked.
“Oh, no reason, just bein’ neighborly,” he nodded. “I’ve got a great ham, cheese and tomato grilled sandwich today, served with a crunchy iceberg salad and fries.”
“I had your fries last night,” she laughed. “I loved them, but I’d better not have them again so soon, you’ll have to roll me out of here. The sandwich and salad sounds great though, and coffee.”
“Comin’ right up,” he smiled.
As she watched him disappear through the swinging doors, she was sure he’d been fishing.
Clint has been coming here for, how long did he say he’d lived here? Two years, and it seems that guy knows nothing about him. Weird.
Staring out the window she saw the clouds gathering, and hoped the weather would hold long enough for her to ride. Her mind wandered to the various tradesmen she’d spoken with that morning. Having renovated many houses she knew the right questions to ask, and what the answers should be; none of them had impressed her.
Thank goodness Clint has offered to introduce me to the fencing guy. I’ll have that under control at least.
Tom returned with her sandwich, and mouth watering, she smiled as she studied it. The sourdough bread had been grilled, leaving dark stripes on both sides, and had been dusted with a variety of spices.
“Wow, that’s one heck of a sandwich,” she declared.
“I use Gouda cheese and heirloom tomatoes. Hard to get those tomatoes this time of year, but it’s worth the effort. I sprinkle them with some balsamic,” he said proudly. “Hope you like it.”
“Oh, my gosh, Tom, this place is a like a gourmet restaurant,” she said. “No wonder you do so well.”
“I love to cook,” he nodded. “I guess I shoulda been a chef, but that’s a whole other business. Too complicated for a simple soul like me.”
“Can I ask you something?” she began, if you can fish, so can I.
“Sure thing.”
“Do you happen to know where Clint Hogan originally came from? I’m sure I know him from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve wanted to ask him but I didn’t want him to think I was being nosey.”
At the word ‘nosey,’ her salacious fantasy flashed into her mind, and she felt a small churning in her stomach.
“Honestly, Amelia, I have no idea,” he answered as he dropped into a chair opposite her. “He’s kept his history to himself, and I’m not talkin’ outta turn here. Press him and he’ll be the first to tell you, where I’ve been and what I’ve done stays where I left it.”
“Really? How interesting,” Amelia remarked.
“The sheriff checked him out, he’s got nothin’ criminal chasin’ him, and he’s a good, honest guy. I’m not sayin’ anything he wouldn’t tell you himself. He’s just a bit of a mystery.”
“I guess so,” she nodded.
“Enjoy your lunch,” he smiled, standing up, “and I’ll be right back with your coffee.”
Biting into the warm sandwich she rolled her eyes in pleasure, and when Tom returned with her coffee she grinned up at him.
“This is the best sandwich I think I’ve ever had, and I’m being serious.”
“Thank you,” he beamed. “I sure appreciate you sayin’ so.”
As she ate her meal and drank her coffee, the conversation with Tom stayed with her. Clint really was a man of mystery, and the voices in her head began in earnest.
No-one can keep secrets today, not in this world.
Apparently Clint Hogan can.
She finished her lunch and glanced at her watch; she still had thirty-five minutes to kill.
Hmmm, I wonder what I’d find if I showed up to the ranch this early.
Probably nothing.
You’re probably right, still, you never know.
It’s rude to be early, just as much as it’s rude to be late.
I won’t be any bother. I’ll go straight to Jiminy.
This isn’t a good idea.
I know, but I’m still going to do it.
Leaving a generous tip on the table she waved to Tom as she headed out, and as she settled behind the wheel of her car she felt her pulse accelerating.
You’re sure you want to do this?
No, but I can’t help myself.
You’re hoping to see
something.
Well, duh, of course.
Careful what you wish for!
Taking a deep breath she drove out of the parking lot, and in five minutes the familiar white fencing came into view. Slowing down and scanning the area she saw two men riding away from the paddocks; she assumed it was Mitch and Zane, though they were too far away for her to be sure. Pulling into the driveway she moved slowly forward, taking the lane that led to the barn, ignoring the one that would have taken up her the knoll to the house.
She parked near the barn, and as she stepped from her car and wandered towards Jiminy’s corral, she was surprised to see a large horse trailer parked behind the round pen. The back doors were open, the inside had been swept clean, but there was no-one to be found. Jiminy Cricket, hearing the arrival of his new best friend lifted his head and nickered at her.
“You sweet thing,” she murmured walking over to him. “You want a peppermint, don’t you?”
Fishing her in pocket she pulled out the pink striped candy and held it out for him, smiling as she watched him happily gobble it up.
“I guess I’ll take you out and start getting you ready,” she remarked, but the sound of a car caught her attention, and looking back to the driveway she saw a black Mercedes sedan heading up the knoll towards Clint’s house. Eyes peeled she watched as it passed his home, stopping at the guest house, and when she saw Clint step out to greet his visitors she caught her breath.
Huh, maybe coming early was a good idea after all.
Or a bad one!
She watched an older man and a young woman climb from the car; the man shook Clint’s hand, they talked for a minute, then the man climbed back inside the car and drove away. Filled with a hot curiosity she saw Clint take the young woman by her upper arm and lead her inside. Amelia’s eyes fixated on the closed door, and she felt her heart hammer as she thought about creeping up to the rear of the guest house.
Don’t be an idiot.
There’s no-one around. It’ll only take a minute.
You’re out of your mind.