The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 13

  “Sorry, sir, I thought you were—”

  It wasn’t Damien, but Wyatt. His dark hair fell into his eyes before he brushed it off his face with a hand. “Now that’s more like it,” he said. “I like it when you call me sir.”

  “I thought you were Damien.”

  His face hardened a degree. “Of course you did. You call him sir often?”

  “He’s my boss, so yes.”

  “Has he taken you to the private stable?”

  Again with mention of the private stable. She’d been meaning to ask Isabella about it, but something always came up to change the subject. “No. Why do you care one way or the other?”

  It wasn’t fair for him to turn hot and cold every few days. He went from not speaking to her at all to making idle conversation. She hated the constant state of limbo, not knowing if there was a connection between them or not.

  “I don’t.”

  She rolled her eyes, tired of his games. “Then don’t ask.” Rachel returned to her work. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been weeks ago. In the short period of time since leaving Jason, she’d regained a semblance of self-esteem and gotten to know the girl she was once upon a time. She’d learned to laugh, play, flirt, and trust. Life wasn’t so bad after all, but she knew it could be so much better with a solid commitment from the two men who held the key to her heart.

  “Does Ethan know you’re friendly with your boss?”

  She crossed her arms, not willing to be bullied by Wyatt. No matter how tempting he looked she wouldn’t fall victim. She glanced over only to see his checkered shirt rolled past his muscled forearms. It didn’t help that she knew his body was rock solid beneath his clothing. “I’m not friendly with my boss, so don’t put words in my mouth. You have no right to question anything I do because you’ve made it more than clear you’re not interested in me.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested, just that I’m not good for you.”

  She lost her steam. “That’s my choice to make, Wyatt.”

  He squeezed into the single stall, entering her personal space. The air temperature around her increased tenfold. She wanted to pull away because she knew he’d only break her heart again and again, and she had to make better choices for her love life. But she also couldn’t refuse Wyatt’s advance. She craved the cowboy’s touch like nothing else. She was addicted, to the pleasure or the pain, she wasn’t certain.

  “I don’t know how to treat womenfolk,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Never learned. I’m thinking you need a man like Ethan, one who knows how to treat a lady.”

  “But I’d have both of you, wouldn’t I?”

  “I can’t be a good man, Rachel. I’ve been a drifter most of my life. You deserve a man with a good head on his shoulders, one with roots and stories to tell his children. I don’t even have a past, darlin’.”

  This was the first time he’d opened up to her, offering her a rare glimpse into the man under the tough exterior. The fact that he was standoffish for reasons other than her was a relief.

  “Then make one. You’re in control of how your life ends up, Wyatt. You can choose happiness or continue to believe you don’t deserve it. And I don’t care about your history.”

  “You will.”

  “No. I want you, the man who worked his way up to foreman. The man who always treats his staff with respect. The man who vouched for a city girl even though it could have cost him his job.”

  He cupped her face in both hands. “You’re poison,” he whispered. “But I’m thinking it would be a good way to die.”

  * * * *

  After dinner, Rachel was restless, pacing in front of the large picture window. She could see nothing but blackness reflecting back at her. There was more—a faint reflection of herself. It was still hard to look at herself and not feel disappointed in what she saw. But she was getting better each day, slowly learning to see her positive attributes.

  What she wanted right now was to get out of the manor and back to the trailer with her men. They made the world go away, made her feel beautiful and sexy. She’d made some headway with Wyatt but not nearly enough. She needed him, wanted him, and her body was aching for his touch. There was a sense of urgency in the air, a virtual clock ticking down. Rachel felt the need to solidify something with her men, or her window of opportunity would pass her by.

  “Can’t sleep?” asked Isabella. She came in, carrying a small box of paperwork. She rested it on the arm of a sofa.

  “No, just thinking.” Then she remembered the question she needed answered. “I was meaning to ask you, what is the private stable? I’ve heard several of the men talk about it.”

  Isabella’s friendly expression faded, leaving her poker faced. “It’s nothing. Nothing at all. Just a little hobby of Damien’s. It’s very private, and trust me, you don’t want anything to do with that place.” Without waiting for a response, she picked up her box and headed back to the exit. “Get some sleep, Rachel. You’ll be dead on your feet in the morning.”

  The private stable. Rachel was more curious than ever. She had to know what went on over there. Even Wyatt and Ethan had mentioned the place. She knew where it was, but had never ventured close enough to explore. It was on the periphery of the main barns, the large one-story stable sitting by itself in isolation. Were her men there now? She knew it had something to do with women, and she needed to know if her cowboys were players. There was no way she’d put up with a cheater. Her years of maltreatment were over, a fresh new path ahead of her. But she was also terrified to know the truth.

  Rachel left the house under the shroud of darkness, slipping out undetected through the side entrance. She wore black stretchy pants and the Iron Spur T-shirt. Her hair was still damp from her evening shower, hanging heavily around her face as she crept along the sides of trailers and barns where the chorus of crickets was at full volume. She could hear the cowboys talking and laughing inside their homes, the occasional one outside having a cigarette. Rachel remained unnoticed as she navigated the long, soft grass against the trailers.

  As she neared the private stable, her heart began to race. She knew she shouldn’t be out here. Although she’d never been directly told not to venture to this place, it was almost an unspoken law that she wasn’t invited. Why? She was a full employee now, even if new and still learning. Shouldn’t she have access to all the grounds?

  It was darker way out here, no outdoor lights to illuminate the structure. She made her way to the soft glow coming from a window. It was higher up than her, so she had to pull herself up to peek over the ledge. At first she jumped, catching glimpses of red satin and black leather. Her heart began to race. Please don’t let me find Wyatt and Ethan inside. It had never bothered her when she suspected Jason of cheating on her. There had been no love or affection in that relationship, only sadness. But she felt something much deeper for her new lovers. They got under her skin, made her feel beautiful and special. They were real men, hard and strong, but gentle enough to care for a woman’s needs.

  She didn’t want to lose them. But were they even hers to lose?

  Rachel wedged her shoe against the wooden side of the stable and got a better look inside. There was a large room lit only by candlelight. A woman she’d never seen was lying on a sheet of red satin, her arms bound above her. She was naked. A man wearing a black mask and leather pants stood near her. His chest and abs were toned to perfection. When she examined him closer, she realized it was Trevor from the roundup. He held a leather flogger in his hand, letting the tendrils tickle the woman’s pussy. The sudden recognition almost made her fall off the ledge, her arms already protesting from holding up her weight.

  Rachel was enraptured, unable to look away. The window ledge bit into her fingers, but she had to see what would happen next. She’d never been more curious, the forbidden voyeurism turning her on like never before.

  “It’s not nice to spy on people.”

  Her heart stopped, her hands going limp. She
fell down onto the grass, bruising her hip in the process. Rachel propped herself up on her elbows, looking up, up, up. Wyatt stared down at her. The glow of the window and moon cast shadows around his handsome face. It was more severe than she’d ever seen it.

  “I—” She had no excuses. She’d been caught red-handed, so to speak. Rachel desperately tried to think up any excuse to give her cause to be hanging off a windowsill. She came up empty. Now Wyatt would think she was some kind of pervert.

  “I’ve told you the private stable is none of your concern, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  He exhaled an angry, irritated sound. “What should I do with you now?”

  Love me? She swallowed hard, not moving or speaking. In fact, she willed herself to be anywhere in the world but there.

  “I realize you seem determined to break the rules, so I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for.”

  Asking? She’d said nothing. He leaned down, hooked his arm behind hers, and hoisted her up to her feet effortlessly. Then he shackled his hand around her wrist and pulled her along behind him. She used her free hand to try and pry his fingers away, but he was way too strong.

  “Where we going?”

  “If you’re so curious about the private stable, I’ll give you a taste of it.”

  “No!” She tried to dig her heels into the ground, but it was no use. There was no way Rachel wanted to go into that stable after seeing the things that went on inside. She’d be mortified, humiliated. It was one thing to watch unnoticed, another to see things up close or actually participate.

  He jerked her along. “Behave yourself. You’re acting like a child.”

  As soon as Wyatt shoved open the front door, a man in a tuxedo handed him a black mask like the one Trevor was wearing. He snatched it from the man and pulled her along.

  “Good to have you back,” said the man. “Room number six is free.”

  “Thanks, Robinson. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  Rachel felt a burst of relief knowing Wyatt hadn’t been here in a while, hopefully not since her arrival on the ranch. She wanted him for herself.

  Once arriving at room number six, Wyatt shoved her unceremoniously into the room. She stumbled, finally settling on the large bed. She watched him slam the door shut and stride into the room with unparalleled confidence. He paced in front of the long dressers against the back wall. Speak to me.

  “Take off your clothes,” he said matter-of-factly. His back was to her as he rummaged through one of the drawers.

  She wanted to protest, but his tone left no room for argument.

  “This is the private stable. When we’re in here, you’ll call me sir.”

  Her heart stopped. She remembered his jealous streak when he spoke of Damien. Now she understood why he was angry when he thought his boss brought her here. It was all about sex. Kinky sex.

  “You’ll also need to pick a safe word. A real one. Stop won’t gain you any sympathy from me.”

  He was acting so cold, so formal. She wanted to be kissed and held but had to admit this new side to Wyatt was arousing her more each second.

  There was something in his hand, but with only candlelight, she couldn’t make it out.

  “You’re not undressed. Disobedience will cost you.” He stood at the end of the bed, nodding to her clothes. Waiting for her to comply. She began to lift off her shirt, setting it on the bed beside her. Although her confidence had vastly improved since her arrival, she still had issues with her extra pounds. She unclasped her bra, her breasts jostling free.

  There was no expression on his face. He watched her every move like a panther eying its prey. She knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until she was stark naked. Rachel wiggled out of her pants and undies, leaving her nude on the smooth silk sheets. When she attempted to hug herself, he reached out an arm holding a riding crop.

  “Don’t even think about covering yourself, Ms. Price. My game. My rules.”

  “Yes…yes, sir.”

  Her response earned her a slight smirk, which quickly vanished. “What’s your safe word? Choose one, or I’ll choose it for you.”

  She thought of Ethan and his stubborn mare. “Um…Appaloosa.”

  “Okay, don’t forget it.” He walked around the bed and back. “Do you know what it’s for?”

  “I think so.” She knew it had something to do with making him stop, but had no idea how everything worked. Rachel wasn’t experienced in sexual games.

  “You’ll call me sir. You’ll obey me when I ask you to do something. And you’ll endure whatever I put you through. Otherwise you’ll be punished. Only use the word if you’re positive you want me to stop.” Then he halted directly in front of her and tilted her chin up. “Once I stop, you’ll go back to the house on your own and never set foot in the private stable again. There are no second chances. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Maybe you’ll be easier to train than I expected.” He tugged off his shirt, leaving him in just his low-cut Wranglers. The outline of his monster cock was stretched out diagonally behind the denim. Wyatt enjoyed this atmosphere, and her curiosity piqued. He slipped the mask he was given over his head, effectively shielding his upper face. Her cowboy was transformed into some kind of erotic superhero. He was perfect.

  She was still partially sitting, leaning back on her elbows. Wyatt used the riding crop to paint circles around her areolas. Her nipples instantly tightened, liquid heat trickling from her pussy. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  “Have you ever used sex toys, Rachel?”

  She shook her head.

  “Speak when I ask you a question.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Interesting. We’ll try some today. I want to see how you can handle a few things.” He trailed the end of the crop down her center, a featherlight touch, settling over her clit. He gave it a slight tap, making her gasp.

  “Sometimes the most elemental pleasure can be found through pain. I bet you didn’t know that.”

  But she did know, more than he could imagine. She’d been using pain therapy to help control her fear of Jason. Pain brought her back to childhood, when everything was simple.

  Wyatt set the crop on the dresser and put his finger to his lips to silence her. He was so calm and assured, his demeanor serving to inspire confidence. He returned with a toy shaped like a man’s penis. It hummed, vibrating in his hand. “Lay back.” He lowered himself over her, his heat scorching her bare breasts. She inwardly sighed, savoring the physical closeness. When she reached around his broad shoulders to hold him, he looked her in the eye. “No touching.”

  She returned her hands to the sides, still desperate to feel his strong muscles, but not allowed to touch.

  “This is going to make you come hard and fast. It’ll probably work in less than a minute since you’re not used to it. You need to keep control, focus on the pleasure and nothing else.”

  He leaned to one side and reached between their bodies, holding the shaft of the hard, plastic cock to her clitoris. The jolt of energy shocked her. She instantly arched, her body trying to escape such raw torment. But he was right there, looking her in the eyes through his black mask, anchoring her. Concentrate on the pleasure.

  “Soon you’ll learn to come on command just by hearing the sound of my voice. And you’ll learn to restrain yourself until given permission to let go.”

  Whatever. She was barreling forward like a freight train without brakes, and nothing Wyatt said would change that. Rachel desperately wanted a reprieve, the growing pressure coming too fast to handle. Each time she was about to pull away, she remembered her need to please Wyatt, to make him proud. She wanted to pass all his tests without fail.

  “Come. Come for me, little lamb.”

  He held her, keeping her body steady until that glorious moment of release. He was all strength and muscle, easily controlling her. But she wasn’t afraid.

  Wyatt was right. The deep baritone of his voice and com
manding tone provided the final push she needed to explode. Her pussy clamped down hard, her walls contracting in deep waves. She closed her eyes and absorbed all the sensations flooding her veins. When she thought she couldn’t take another second, Wyatt removed the phallus.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, twisting around to face her, his fingers trailing along the skin of her sensitive inner thighs.

  “One thing about toys is the effects aren’t long lasting. They’re like dessert, pleasurable, but not as satisfying as a meal. Do you agree?”

  “Yes.” She was still breathless, riding high from her orgasm.

  “What was that?”

  It took her a moment to gauge his meaning. “Yes, sir?”

  A devilish smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Remember what I told you when we started?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When you don’t listen you’re to be disciplined. I’ll go easy on you today since it’s your first offense. Just a few spanks. Let’s say five.”

  Rachel wasn’t afraid of physical pain. It had been her friend, a comfort measure during stressful times. Nothing Wyatt could subject her to would make her use her safe word.

  He patted his lap. She didn’t hesitate to stretch out over his lap. His jeans rubbed against her bare, hypersensitive folds, so hard and rough. He began to rub warming circles over her ass. “I know the last man you were with wasn’t good to you. Did he hit you?”

  How did he know? It was as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

  She nodded, not willing to speak and tempt her emotions to spill over. What she’d been through was humiliating to talk about or even acknowledge.

  “Well, what we’re doing here is very different. I want you to understand that. I’ll never raise my hand with intent to harm you. Everything I do is for your pleasure, to teach you trust. There’s nothing more empowering than letting it all go and allowing yourself to be vulnerable.”

  His hand lifted away from her ass and came down in a firm smack, the fleshy sound echoing in the dim room. She’d never had her ass spanked. It felt dirty, the ultimate domination fantasy.