Rope Burn: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 5 (13 page)

Stowe felt humbled leading the man to the fenced enclosure. Three cows stood mouthing hay in the three-sided shelter with a roof to protect them from the elements. Only three to start a dream.

“Not many but enough to start you off,” the gentlemen said as he reached to unhook the fence. He set down the cooler he carried.

Stowe shot a look at Tabbart and his heart did a slow, lazy flip. She was smiling, those dazzling white teeth shining. He had a sudden urge to nudge her full lips apart and make her—

Focus.
The woman will be gone in a few days but the cows are mine long after.

He kept up the conversation with the cowboy as the man flipped open the cooler lid and pulled out a long plastic sleeve. He slid his whole arm into it—for obvious reasons—and began to prepare the semen.

“You won’t need to warm it up?” Stowe asked.

“Did that before driving over. It’s good we’re a short distance apart. Otherwise I would have needed access to a microwave.” He fiddled with a pipette and the container of semen.

Tabbart came to lean against the fence, one hand clasped around the braid over her shoulder. At a glance, she could be any country girl. But when she moved or spoke, she was totally Hollywood.

As the older man approached one cow, it jumped and skittered sideways. “Oh yeah, she’s ready to breed. Jumpy, ain’t she?”

Stowe nodded. “They all have been, bumping into the fence and each other.”

“Well I recommend breeding them again tonight for the best chances. But this here bull semen is the best you’ll find in the county.”

“I have no doubts,” Stowe said.

“Block her against the fence so she can’t move away now, Aussie.”

Tabbart’s quiet laugh drifted on the lazy morning breeze. After this, he hoped to show her more of the land, especially a special spot he’d always loved best. He hadn’t been up there in a while, and if she was good to ride, he’d take her.

Stowe moved to the side of the cow. It danced against the fence and he rested a hand on its neck to calm it while the cowboy worked his arm into its body. What happened next had Tabbart groaning and turning away.

The cowboy slid the pipette into his shirt to keep it warm against his skin. Then he wiped down the cow’s area to keep it sanitary and eased the pipette into place. While he worked, he talked.

“Starting small is good business sense. If this takes, you can get a few more cows and we’ll provide the genetic solution.” He depressed the plunger and it was all over.

They moved to the second cow. Tabbart glanced back, nose pinched between her manicured fingers. Stowe grinned.

While they worked to inseminate the other two cows, they talked bull sizes and the likelihood of any of Stowe’s cows birthing males. “If they’re females, will you raise them up for breeding too?” the other cowboy asked.

“Might do that. I might sell them too. The idea is to get some stock going fast so I can start readying them to ride.”

“You’ll get good prices at auction, fo’ sho.” He patted the rump of the cow his arm was engulfed in and she gave a loud moo.

Minutes later they were finished and Stowe was walking the old gent back to his truck. Tabbart moved to Stowe’s side and the man tipped his hat to her.

“Good day to you, ma’am,” he drawled in his fake Australian accent. “I’d shake your hand but you saw where it’s been.”

She laughed and threw him a wave. The cowboy looked at her closely, and for a heartbeat Stowe thought he might have recognized her. But he didn’t say anything more, just got into his truck with a short goodbye and drove off.

As the truck rumbled away, Stowe turned to Tabbart and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Getting brazen, aren’t you?”

“Do you think he recognized me?”

“Probably not. He spends sixteen hours a day in his fields with his cattle. He doesn’t have time for watching cooking shows.”

“That’s what I thought. And it seemed rude of me not to speak or engage him in some way.”

He tugged her closer. “So how was your experience today?”

She gave a mock shudder. “Disgusting.”

With a laugh, he dropped his nose to her fragrant hair. “Let’s hope it takes. This evening I’ll come back up.”

“I’ll come too.”

Having her by him felt good. More than good, actually. He pressed a tender kiss between her brows, then took her by the hand and led her back to the horse. “If you plan to ride this evening, I’d better take you back to the bungalow.” He reached to unhobble the horse.

“What else can we do? It’s so pretty out here. I don’t want to sit inside.”

He eyed her. “How sore are you?”

Her face scorched and a light dew of perspiration appeared on her temples. “Not too sore.”

Sliding his hand around the curve of her ass, he examined her reaction. “Where I spanked you?”

She shook her head. “Not much.”

“And where I fucked you?”

Her face reddened a degree. “I’m fine. I wish you’d stop asking.”

“It’s my job. A Master must continually check his sub’s well-being.”

A soft sigh left her. “Thank you, but I don’t need—”

He lightly pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You need.”

When she met his gaze, he saw sparks. “Ahh. So you aren’t going to comply with everything. I like a feisty sub even better.”

“Good.” Suddenly she stood on tiptoe and nipped his lower lip. The sting ignited and raised a growl from him. He clamped his hands on her bottom and held her tight to his growing erection. Her breathing came fast.

“I’ll make you pay for that later. Right now, are you sure you can ride?”

“Absolutely.”

He liked the way she raised her jaw a notch. “Good. I want to show you something.”

After just a few times, putting her on his horse felt as natural as breathing. Drawing her high on his thighs was a perfect torment. And feeling the wind on his face as he galloped fast across the field was freeing.

The landscape flew by. Golden fields and green pastures. A bubbling spring of water where he allowed his horse a stop to drink. It looked nothing like his homeland, yet the surroundings connected him with the place where his passion for ranching had originated.

His mind wandered as they continued along a path cutting through rolling hillside. His sister’s words were too close lately. He’d already established he couldn’t be a Boot Knocker forever, but what if his dream of owning bulls for riding never amounted to anything but that—a fantasy?

Maybe he should look into owning a small plot of land. Just a few acres where he could build a house and have some cattle.

Ranching was hard—he had no delusions that most ranchers couldn’t make ends meet. They sold what crops they could as well as mineral rights and lumber off their land.

If he didn’t make it right away, he had a small egg of cash he could live off. But when that ran out?

They crested a hill and Tabbart gasped. Her hand fluttered to her lips as they faced a vista unlike any other. Blue sky was tinged gold where the sun trailed its fingers. He drew to a stop.

For long seconds he drank in the world. In the distance, cattle grazed and he saw a bit of the neighbor’s fencing. Other than that, they were alone.

“I swear the air is fresher up here,” Tabbart said after a spell.

His nostrils flared as he filled his head. “It is.”

She tipped her head back to stare at the vast sky. Her hair tickled his face. “Can we get down?”

He went on high alert. “Are you sore?”

“A little. That was a long ride.”

He dismounted and drew her to her feet. She immediately did some runner’s stretches, pulling on her ankles to stretch her thighs. It wouldn’t help her problem, but she seemed to relax a bit.

When he sank to the ground and patted his lap, she eyed him. “I’m not sure your legs are softer than the saddle.”

“Okay, I have a better idea.” He rested on his back and gestured for her to come into his arms. She moved hesitantly, folding to her knees first.

“Lie down on me. Let me rub your sore spots.”

She giggled. “That’s what caused them to be sore in the first place.”

With a growl he tugged her down, positioning her so she was lying on top of him. When he started massaging her shoulders, she moaned.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were stiff from last night’s pose?”

“You didn’t ask. And I told you—it’s a good kind of sore.”

“Meaning you remember every small pain I caused?”

She burrowed her face against his neck as he reached a particularly tight muscle. “It feels so odd to talk about it.”

“Why?”

“It’s…unseemly. Embarrassing. Is this how it’s really done with other Doms?”

“It’s how I operate, love. I want you to give up all your burdens to me. Even if it’s to say your shoulders hurt. I’m here to bear it for you.”

She shook her head slowly. “I can’t totally wrap my head around all of it.”

“You’re doing beautifully for a first-timer.”

She started and raised her head. “Am I?”

“Yes. Very, very well.” Too well. So well he was finding it difficult to keep any distance from her at all. He’d heard about this, though he’d never experienced it personally—when a Dom found a sub he lost himself in.

Since last night he’d been thinking about the phenomenon. For a few moments he’d felt as out of his head with lust and need as she’d been. Being inside her and knowing she’d given all…

He pushed out a breath.

She’d be going home to LA, back to her own world. Even if she was for him, he couldn’t keep her.

He caressed her spine up and down, focusing on the places that made her tense.

“Tell me more about your plans with the cows. Do you want your own ranch?” she asked.

He grunted. “Maybe someday.”

“You mean you don’t know?”

He stared into her eyes. “I don’t.”

“How can a strong man like you not know his mind? Are you sure you aren’t trying to hide from it?”

“I don’t hide from anything.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Looking at her closely, he said, “Explain.”

“I…I’m not sure if I can.”

“Will you try?” He touched the corner of her mouth and she tipped her head into his hand.

“I feel like I’m living this big lie.”

He got it. He did. It was the whole image thing. “You don’t feel your insides mesh with the person the world is allowed to see.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes.”

“But I watched you on screen, love. I saw your passion shine through as you cooked for the TV audience. That wasn’t a lie.”

“Well, no. But I think the show’s gotten a lot bigger than me.”

“You’d do things differently? Or do you mean you’re ready to end the show and buy some restaurants?”

She pursed her lips, making his balls tighten in response. “Not a bad idea, but I’m not entirely ready for that. I just wonder if my show is becoming this monster I can’t control. I think I might want to get back to my roots.”

“Meaning?”

“I started by cooking in my mom’s kitchen. Simple foods like mac and cheese and barbecue. I didn’t have industrial mixers and top-of-the-line cookware.”

“But those are tools that help you.”

“True.” Again, she shook her head. “I’m not sure what I’m saying. I guess I was right that I couldn’t describe it. I need to think about it more. Your turn.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “What do you want to know?”

“You have this great job but you’re trying to start something new. Why?”

Her words dug deep into his psyche. “I guess I’m trying to get back to my own roots.”

She leaned in and brushed her lips over his jaw. “It must feel great to do so.” Her eyes were sparkling jewels and her waving hair contrasted against the sky.

“It does. So how do you return to your roots?”

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe a set redesign. Or a new locale.”

“Live from New York City.”

She laughed. “Hardly. I wouldn’t want to live there. Too cold.”

“If you have the right man to keep you warm…”

She shifted atop him, her body stiff. “I have my career, not a relationship.”

Silence swelled. Insects buzzed. Finally he pinched her ass—hard enough to make her squeal. She rolled and fought him until she was breathless. He flipped her onto the turf and pinned her with his body. Her breasts rose and fell against his chest and her eyes glowed.

“I want you to be honest with yourself, Tabbart.”

“What do you mean?” She looked as though she wanted to run away and throw herself at him simultaneously.

“You could have any man you wanted. You choose not to.”

“I don’t have time—”

He framed her beautiful face in his hands. “If I were in LA with you, you’d find time for me.” The words burst out, beyond his control. Now that they were said, he saw the truth in them. “You need a strong man. When you leave here, don’t settle for anything less.”

The thought of another Dom laying hands on her sent a pang of uneasiness through Stowe. At least if that happened, he wouldn’t know about it. He’d be far away from her, working toward his own goals.

When she traced his jawline with her silky fingers, she said, “You can’t settle either, Stowe. You have to do what you set out to do with your bull program.”

Her other hand was creeping around his thigh, dangerously close to his ass. After she brought the flat of her palm down on his cheek, he trapped her with his body and made her remember her place—under him, screaming, “Master.”

Chapter Eight

Tabbart took in the sight before her. Thick strip steaks still sizzling on cast-iron platters. A baked potato spilling over with melted butter, and baby vegetables swimming in wine glaze.

She looked up from the meal before her at the man who’d brought it. She stopped breathing. Before he’d gone after the dinner tray, he’d changed into all black. Leather pants, fitted button-down shirt. The cuffs were rolled over his strong forearms and made her mouth water more than the delectable scents of food.

“I gave Cook your compliments on the fruit from this morning. She was beaming. She also wants me to report back on your reaction to the butter.”

Tabbart’s lungs finally filled with air. “Butter?”

“She churns it herself.”

Tabbart almost choked and she didn’t have anything in her mouth. “How in the world would she find time? Does she have an army working with her?”

When he laughed, the hair on his forehead flopped into one blazing eye. Tabbart’s chest constricted even more. “No, just a couple underlings. But as far as I see, she never rests. She’s always cooking.”

Dipping the tines of her fork into the creamy butter, Tabbart said, “I must meet her. It’s worth the risk to me.” After the news that she was at a sex ranch hit, she’d been fielding calls from her publicist and producer. Or ignoring them, actually. Her life didn’t need to revolve around her show, and the world could live without her response to the claims until next week.

She slipped the fork into her mouth. A groan left her. “Oh God. Sweet and salty. I swear I can taste the fresh milk it was churned from.”

“I’m sure you can. It’s from just up the road.”

“Ohhh.” She scooped some fluffy potato drenched with butter into her mouth and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Stowe was staring at her. Not just staring but looking as if he’d eat her alive.

Lust tipped into her system. Clamping her thighs shut, she lifted her knife. And under his close scrutiny, she sliced into the tenderest steak she’d ever met in her life.

When she popped it into her mouth and chewed, Stowe gripped his own knife harder. She moaned, feeling her eyes roll up.

“Hell,” she heard him say softly.

She pulled her attention from her food to her cowboy. A flush climbed her face. “I must sound as if I’m in a dirty movie.”

“Jesus,” he rumbled.

Her gaze flew to his as she tried to figure out how to ease his tension. In the back of her mind, she realized she held a lot of power at this moment. He wore the same look he did when she was under his big, capable hands. She clenched her knees tighter as the inner burn became a full wildfire.

Very deliberately she sliced off another bit of steak and put it between her lips. Held his gaze as she chewed, moaned, swallowed. She repeated with more potato. By the time she tasted the baby carrot, a muscle in Stowe’s jaw was leaping.

She licked the tip of the carrot.

His hand snapped out and clamped around her wrist. Hard enough to give her a thrill. She licked the carrot again, teasing her tongue around the edge.

“You’re asking for punishment.”

Her stomach rose and fell with as much excitement as a kid’s on her first roller coaster. She grazed the tip of the carrot with her teeth and Stowe snatched the fork from her hand.

“If you can’t behave, I’ll feed you.”

“And that will be better how?”

He gave her a dark look that told her he didn’t appreciate her sass even though he’d mentioned liking feisty women. Using the edge of the plate, he knocked off the baby carrot she’d been licking and speared more steak. When he held the fork out to her, she closed her eyes, trusting him to put it between her lips.

As the bite melted on her tongue, she swore she could feel his growl vibrating across the table to her. Once she’d swallowed, she opened her eyes. His gaze burned—scalded, scorched. She was playing with fire but it was so damn fun.

Even as she thought this, she wondered who the hell had switched her brain into hussy mode. Never in her life had she teased or tormented a man. Stowe had tapped some unseen trait, and now that it was loose, he might not like it.

He might punish her.

She made her lips into a circle shape and sucked on an ear of baby corn she’d picked up with her fingers.

His eyes lidded. Her pussy was slick, throbbing with need. No wonder he loved building her up for so long. It was the best feeling ever.

She circled the outside of the baby corn with her tongue and watched his features shiver. He shifted as if to make more room in his leather pants. She smiled around the bite before snapping it with her teeth.

He groaned and she couldn’t hold back. She hunched her shoulders in laughter.

“Are you sure you didn’t have another television career you failed to share with me?” His voice sounded like broken glass under a boot heel.

She nodded and swallowed the bite. “Completely sure. I think…” she glanced at her plate, then flicked her gaze back to his, “…you bring it out in me.”

He lunged for her. Seized her around the shoulders and hurled them both to the carpet. With his arms padding her fall, he captured her mouth. Tongue driving inside, legs trapping hers. His erection dug into her lower belly, oh so right.

Locking her arms around his neck, she yanked him down. His open mouth sealed over hers, tongues tangling until she was gasping. When his rough fingers met her skin, she was shocked to find he’d removed her top and bra. One long finger prodded her nipple into a sharper peak.

She moaned.

Panting, he stared down into her eyes. “You should be pretty damn proud of yourself, Tabbart.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“You threw me off my plan. It’s hard to do that.”

Her heart rate spiked. “What was your plan?”

“To feed you, then run a bath for you. Kiss you and go.”

Her stomach dropped out. “Go?”

“I have work to do, dammit. And I want you there, but I’m worried—” He plucked her nipple hard enough to yank a gasp from her.

She knew what he was worried about. If she went to the demonstration with him, someone might see her. From what he said, everyone on the ranch attended.

Arching her back to bring her nipple into his hard fingers for more, she said, “Go then, Master. I’ll finish eating and run my own bath.”

His eyes flashed. With danger or something else?

Hovering over her, he pinched her other nipple hard. She cried out. “Not until you know my touch. Not until you remember every moment with me after I leave.”

He lightly bit her nipple. Pleasure rolled through her, and she threw her head back. He sucked her nipples into tight peaks. Deep down she knew he wouldn’t finish pleasuring her but would leave her aching, wanting so much more.

She couldn’t wait.

He lapped circles around each bud until she was panting. Then he raised his head and speared her in his gaze. “Your pussy is soaking wet for me, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Let me hear you.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.” He stamped her mouth with his kiss. “You’re not allowed to touch your pussy while I’m gone. I’m in charge of your releases, remember?”

“Yes.”

He arched a brow.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl.” He slid a finger down her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. “Now come to the table.” He rolled to his feet and took her by the hand. She swayed with desire. Her food was most likely cold but it still looked delicious.

“Pick up your fork.”

She did.

He reached into his shirt pocket and removed something small and silver. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”

She grew wetter as she obeyed. Her heart hammered. What was he going to do?

“Bend over. Just relax.” He placed a hand on her spine as she bent forward. When she heard a click of a tube, shock ran through her.
Lube. That means—

“These are ben wa balls.” He stroked her wet folds and something cold slipped into her body. Then another. “You’re going to keep these in until I return.”

Oh God. Could she do it? How long would he be gone?

“Calm, love. It’s not too much. See? I only want you aware.” He gripped her waist and pulled her upright. Using a finger under her jaw, he lifted her face to his.

“Now hold those in while I’m gone, Tabbart. I’ll know if you remove them. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t lay a finger on your pussy. You’ll want to, especially when that hot water in the bath touches your folds.”

Oh God.

How was she going to make it through the evening without him?

His dark gaze penetrated hers. She felt the vibrations deep in her soul. “Do you understand?” His tone was both hard and soft. Warm and cold.

“I understand.”

“Good. Now be a good girl while I’m gone.” At the door, he threw a look at her that sent brand-new longing through her body.

For a moment after the door closed, she stared at her food. Appetite fled and was replaced by another sort of hunger. Of course he knew that—he was using it to his advantage.

And mine.
She’d benefit in the end.

She finished her vegetables, not at all bothered they weren’t piping hot. Or that she was eating a meal buck naked. Then she devoured the steak and another few bites of potato before she was stuffed. Leaning back in the chair, she placed her hands over her stomach. The throb between her legs compounded.

Damn Stowe. He was truly a master of her body.

And he was off to tease other women. Right now, someone else could be under his whip or crop.

The food she’d just eaten turned into a congealed glob, heavy in her stomach. Going to the demonstration was his job, just as being with her was. She didn’t own the cowboy. He was free to come and go.

And she was free to go see what he was up to.

She stood and placed her napkin over her plate. No, she couldn’t go to the auditorium, though she knew where it was—on the way back from their ride earlier, he’d pointed out the building.

I have to distract myself.

She went into the bathroom and sat carefully on the edge of the tub to start the hot water. The balls felt weighty but not uncomfortable. And they
did
turn her on, knowing he’d put them there.

She experimented with drops of bath oils until it smelled almost the same as it had when Stowe had run the bath for her.

She needed to know what he was doing right now.

No, I can’t let my mind go there.

Was he kissing another woman? Binding her hands?

A fog of jealousy flooded her mind and she pressed her lips together. She dipped a toe into the water. Heat engulfed her and the ben wa balls fell out with a splash.

A giggle left her.

Sinking up to her breasts in the soaker tub, she replayed the moment he’d lunged for her. She’d gotten under his skin.
You should be pretty damn proud of yourself, Tabbart.

She’d thrown him off his plan, and apparently that didn’t happen very often. She smiled to herself.

As she let the warm fingers of water massage her, her desire built. Her nipples throbbed to her heartbeat. Her pussy begged to be touched. How would he know if she rubbed her clit to orgasm? Sure, it wouldn’t be the same as him pleasuring her, but it would take the edge off.

But no. If she broke his rules, her expression might give her away. She was certain it had last time.

On the countertop, her cell phone vibrated, alerting her she had a voicemail. Then again. Five more times. Damn, she was going to have to get out of the water and look. Maybe it was an emergency.

As soon as she read the numbers, her breathing came faster. Her publicist and producer, every one of them. She didn’t need to listen to the messages to know reporters were harassing them for information, chasing their next big scandal.

She dropped the phone. It struck the tile, and the corner of the screen webbed. They weren’t going to let up. Stowe would need to smuggle her out in a horse trailer when it was time to go. The paparazzi had discovered her secret. Inside the ranch she was isolated, but for all she knew, the TV and press were blowing up with her story. Everyone in the world might know she’d come to a sex ranch.

No, I came to Stowe.

She drew a deep breath of the scented air and released it. Then again and again. Five breaths, ten breaths, twenty wouldn’t give her calm tonight. He’d raised a fever inside her and it needed to be quenched.

Only Stowe could do it.

Tabbart tapped the enormous cowboy on the shoulder and he turned, looming over her. She backed up a step and he reached out to grab her forearm. In the dimness of the backstage lighting, his eyes flared with recognition.

“You’re Stowe’s. Come here. I’ll keep you hidden.” With her arm in his rough grasp, he took her behind a row of curtains where she wouldn’t be seen but could peek out.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he left her with a nod.

As she swept her gaze over the stage, she burned with anticipation. She practically hummed as she saw the man in black onstage. The Dom from Down Under. Her cowboy.

He was gorgeous under the spotlights. With every move, his leather pants pulled snug against ass and thighs. His back muscles seemed to ripple and she followed his arm up to hand, where he gripped a paddle handle.

Her attention shot to the woman before him.

She was staring at Stowe, eyes wide. God, was that how Tabbart looked under Stowe’s hand? As Tabbart watched, she felt her interest swell in a detached sort of way. As if she were looking at herself in the woman’s place.

Stowe’s low voice reached Tabbart and she nearly gasped in delight. “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

Oh God, yes.

The woman turned slowly on her very high heels. She wore only bra and panties, and though her body wasn’t an airbrushed model’s, she was sexy. Tabbart wished she could see Stowe’s face.

He said something to the woman, too low for Tabbart’s ears. She strained forward but couldn’t catch his words. Then he switched his paddle to his left hand. The woman folded in half and grabbed her ankles.

When Stowe spanked her with his open hand, Tabbart’s pussy clenched and released madly. Cream soaked her panties and her nerves jangled. But she didn’t like the uncomfortable pressure in her chest.