Saddled and Spurred: A Blacktop Cowboys Novel (28 page)

Bran frowned. “I figured it’d been a lot longer than two years since you’d seen Janie.”

“At first. I didn’t talk to her for years after the divorce was final. She called me outta the blue about two years ago, wanting to meet, and like an idiot I agreed to . . . Never mind.”

Before Bran could ask Abe what the meeting had been about, he saw Harper flit past, laughing, holding hands with that son of a bitch Renner Jackson as he led them onto the dance floor.

Did that smarmy fucker have every single goddamn woman in the county falling all over themselves?

Abe saw the opportunity to corner Janie and was across the room before Bran could stop him. Which left Bran in a shitty situation. Either stay here and watch Renner plaster himself against Harper, or cut in so he could plaster himself against Harper, and let Abe twist in the wind.

Grinding his teeth, Bran watched another man putting his paws all over his woman. They laughed . . . after whispering to each other. Renner spun them into the middle of the crowd, so Bran lost track of their grinding bodies. When they danced back into view, Renner had slipped his leg between Harper’s, so it appeared she was riding his thigh.

Enough. As soon as this song ended he was getting Harper the hell out of here and away from Renner Jackson.

“Bran?”

He spun toward the voice and saw Janie crouching down by the table. “Janie, what the hell are you—”

“I’m avoiding Abe. Here are Harper’s coat and purse. Can you make sure she gets home okay? She’s had a few drinks and I have to get out of here right now.”

“Not a problem.”

Janie patted his leg. “Good to see you, Bran. Thanks for keeping Abe somewhat calm. We’ll talk more later.” And she scooted out, ducking into a crowd.

Bran was on his feet when the last chord twanged. He didn’t even look at Renner. He just held out Harper’s coat.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“I’m taking you home.”

She swayed as she invaded his personal space. “You’re not my boss right now, so I don’t gotta go anywhere with you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Says who?” Almost on cue, she hiccuped.

Bran grinned. “Says me. Now be a good girl and get your coat on.”

Her eyes narrowed at his choice of the word
girl
.

Renner put his hand on Bran’s back and spoke to Harper. “That’s my cue to leave, now that I see you’re in good hands.”

“You’re abandoning me?” she complained to Renner.

“Yep. Thanks for the dance, doll.” He walked off.

Smart man.

Harper snatched her coat from Bran’s hands and wouldn’t let him help her put it on. She spun around, whapping him in the face with her hair as she sauntered off.

He followed her outside, ignoring the pointed stares of the other bar customers.

When it appeared that she intended to stumble the two blocks home on her own, Bran stepped in front of her and hoisted her over his shoulder. He’d come back for his truck later.

They were going to have this out right now.

“
Y
ou cannot hang me upside down like I’m a slab of meat, Bran Turner!” Her head bounced with Bran’s every confident footstep.

“Sweetheart, your indignity would mean a helluva lot more if I could understand what you’re sayin’, but bein’s your words are muffled against my ass, I can’t.”

Irritated, Harper smacked the backs of his thighs like she was playing the bongos. “Let me down, you big mean jerk!”

“Sure thing. Right after I dump you in your house so I know you ain’t gonna fall on your butt and lay out here and freeze to death.”

“I am not that drunk.” And so what if she was? She was an adult. Making new friends meant buying a few rounds. And maybe she had had a celebratory shot after she’d found out that Bran hadn’t been married to Janie. In all the years that she’d listened to Celia complain about Abe’s whiny ex-wife it’d surprised Harper that Janie didn’t fit that description at all. Maybe Janie had changed, grown up, whatever. Harper really liked Janie, another reason she was glad the woman hadn’t worn Bran’s ring and slept in his bed.

“Didja pass out back there, Harper?”

She smacked his buttocks in response.

Bran laughed. “Careful. I kinda like that.”

“So you’ll let me turn you over my knee like you did to me?”

That answer earned her a sharp crack on the ass and she yelped. “Don’t be telling tales outta school where anyone can hear you.”

“You’re not making any sense. Maybe
you’re
drunk.”

“Not hardly. You had a head start on me.” He shifted her slightly.

She tried not to worry that she weighed too much. But she’d seen him haul a hundred-and-fifty-pound calf on his back, and if he got a crick in his neck, well, good. She hadn’t asked to be lugged around in the cold like a helpless heifer anyway.

“Is your sister home?” he asked.

“No. She’s mad at me and she’s probably not coming home.” Shoot. Maybe she shouldn’t have admitted that.

“Good. Because you and I need to get some things straight.”

“I wouldn’t think you’d care about setting things straight, being’s you think I’m so drunk and all—which, FYI, I’m not.”

His amused “I know” was followed by another male chuckle. A cocky one, in her opinion.

Bran whistled while he crossed the next block.
Whistled.
Like he was having a jolly old time.

She whacked his butt just for that.

He laughed again.

“Almost there.” He turned up the sidewalk and didn’t set her down until he’d reached the top step. “Keys.”

Harper shouldered him aside, giving him her back. “I didn’t lock it.”

He sighed.

“What? You don’t lock your door either, hypocrite. So just go. I’m home in one piece. Mission accomplished. Good night.”

She opened the door only far enough to let herself in and attempted to shut it in Bran’s face.

His laugh wasn’t amused this time. He pushed the door open and followed her inside.

Harper tossed her purse and her coat on the chair. She didn’t bother to kick off her boots but just headed for her bedroom. She didn’t get far.

Bran spun her to face him, trapping her face in his hands as he fastened his mouth to hers.

She wanted to kiss him back. She craved these sweet, needy kisses from him because they were so rare. But she also knew why Bran was kissing her like this. He felt guilty. And he should.

So she turned her head away, breaking her lips free from his, keeping her eyes closed, waiting for him to let her go.

He did.

Without looking at him, she started toward her room.

But Bran was determined. He wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her lightly but firmly, nestling his chin into the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “Talk to me. Please. I know you’re upset.”

Harper allowed herself to lean against him, wanting his closeness, but he needed to apologize without her having to ask for it. She disentangled from his embrace and faced him, keeping her arms folded across her midsection. “Do you know why I’m upset, Bran?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Why? We both know why you were upset. You were there.”

“Not good enough. Tell me with words.”

He took a step back and dry-washed his face. Then ran his palm along the top of his head and down to his neck. “I was outta line today.”

“Meaning what?”

“Too demanding.”

“Wrong. The word you’re looking for is
demeaning
.”

His face turned red, and the muscle at the base of his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth hard.

“I can handle your demanding side. I’ve never felt ashamed of liking that part of you. You’ve never made me feel like I’m some kind of whore whose job is to service your sexual needs at your whim.” Harper stared at Bran until he met her gaze. “Until today. You made me feel that way at the auction today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything, Harper, don’t you see? I don’t ever want to do that to you again.” He stepped forward and gently gripped her upper arms. “Tell me what will fix this. What can I do to make it better? I’ll do anything, sweetheart. Anything.”

As she studied him, she knew Bran wasn’t just saying that; he really meant it. Still. What she had in mind ... might actually shock him.

“I know that look. You know what you want. Tell me.”

She raised her chin a notch and gave him a haughty look. “I want to be in control.”

“Okay. In control of what?”

“You.”

He balked a little. “What?”

“I want you to know what it feels like to have someone else calling the shots, because I’ll bet you’ve never tried it, have you, Mr. Large-and-I’m-Always-in-Charge?”

Bran shook his head.

“Do you trust me?”

His eyes searched hers. After a beat or two he nodded. Not exactly confidently. For some reason that boosted Harper’s confidence and her determination.

“Good. Then I know what I want that’ll fix this.” She shrugged out of his hold and looked at his crotch, then back in his eyes. “I want to spank you while you’re jacking off.”

His face paled. “What?”

“You heard me.” Harper walked straight to her room. Would he follow her? Probably. Would he try to change her mind? Probably. Would he be successful?

No way. She had to stand her ground or the man would run her into the ground every chance he got.

Plus, it sounded like fun.

She stopped at the window and double-checked that the blinds were closed. She heard his boots scuffing on the carpet. His footsteps stopped.

The door clicked shut. The lock engaged.

Harper slowly turned to see Bran resting his shoulders against the door, staring at her.

He said, “You look surprised.”

“I am.”

“I told you I’d do anything to fix this. So here I am.” He spread his arms wide. “Ready to take my punishment like a man.”

Since Harper had zero experience with this sort of thing, she dug deep inside herself, grasping the tiny dominant nature she usually let lie dormant, and let it fill her. She gave him a cool once-over. “Strip. Completely.”

While he got naked, so did she.

“Now, face the wall and brace your left arm at eye level. Keep the other arm by your side.”

As soon as he complied, she moved in behind him. The man smelled good, like Zest soap, hard work, and Bran. What a sense of power to feel his big body jump when she smoothed her hands down his tight, muscular buns. He stayed tense as she touched and rubbed and petted him. Gently. Tenderly. Softly.

So her first hard smack across those perfectly round white cheeks surprised him. He hissed in a sharp breath. Then she went back to stroking him. Not just his butt. From his lower back up to his broad shoulders. And back down, her thumb tracing the long indent of his spine from his nape to his tailbone.

Harper let her nipples graze his bare skin and he shuddered. She realized she wasn’t making this about punishment for him, but about trust. He’d abused her trust today and she needed to show him, to remind him, what true trust entailed, especially why it was so important in a sexual relationship when one partner held the reins.

She reached between his legs and fondled his balls, pleased to find them already hard and tight. Then she stroked his shaft. She tortured him slowly, with feather-light butterfly touches, more fleeting than solid, never staying in the one place he most wanted her caresses.

Bran’s whole body rippled and he groaned.

She stopped touching him.

He groaned louder.

Grabbing his hand, she curled it around his cock. “You do this. But don’t make yourself come. In fact, you don’t get to come at all until I say so. Understood?”

“Ah. Yeah. Sure.”

Harper let her hand stay on top of Bran’s while he pleasured himself. Such power and surety in his strokes. He tugged much harder on the rigid shaft than she would’ve attempted. Using her thumb, she swiped away the bead of moisture gathered on the cock head.

He made a growling noise and his fingers tightened.

She slid her hand up his flat belly, stopping to tweak his nipple, smiling when he sucked in a quick breath. She sank her teeth below the skin of his left shoulder blade while her hand connected with his right butt cheek.

He jerked upright and went still. But he didn’t protest or falter in the pace or movement of his hand on his cock.

She peppered him with swats until his firm butt cheeks turned a soft shade of red and were hot to the touch. Harper let her tongue follow the curve of his spine. When her mouth connected with his heated buns, he groaned. She rubbed her cheek against the warmth on either side, placing gentle kisses on the redness.