Cowboys in Charge Read online

  “Jeez, Pete, you need to get laid,” Walker complained.

  Jason hadn’t had to be celibate any length of time yet, thank God. He knew his friend had been suffering during these last couple of difficult months of his wife’s pregnancy. He didn’t look forward to suffering that way, but he did want to start a family with Jen. They’d wanted to settle into the marriage a few years. She’d wanted to substitute teach a while longer. But maybe it was time they started getting serious about making babies.

  “Reckon you’re right,” Pete interrupted his thoughts. “The moment the doctor gives her the okay after she’s delivered, I’m going to finally get real relief.”

  Jason stayed out of the conversation and took a bite of ham. Having a baby would be a big change in their lives. He liked being more or less her sole focus. He liked having her all to himself. He’d have to learn to share with a child in the picture. But he’d adjust.

  He thought again about how deliciously tempting she’d looked all spread-eagled on their bed. His cock hardened in an instant. Under the table, he subtly shifted his package. They would probably have to give up that sort of thing with kids around. He’d have to stop a lot of the little games he liked. But would she mind giving them up? He’d begun to worry lately that she was unhappy with his games. She sure hadn’t reacted as well as he’d hoped when he’d mentioned trying the Master/slave thing. He’d really like to take this 24/7, with certain concessions for when she was out in public. But she’d cringed at the idea of even wearing a collar around the house, a collar-like necklace anywhere else. He wasn’t giving up, though.

  Speaking about “fun,” she would be getting extremely aroused by now. He knew what moving around with a plug up her ass did to her. He hadn’t really meant to make her wear it all day, certainly not tonight. He just wanted her good and excited when he strolled into the house later this morning. He wanted her to attack him, go all crazy woman on him. She’d done it before a few times and Lord a’mighty they were unforgettable experiences. But she mostly tended to be reserved, uneasy when that side of her came out. He wanted to break her of her worries.

  His pulse raced and he needed to shift again. Think about something else.

  “So, Pete, what did you get Annie for Christmas?” He still hadn’t gone shopping for Jen. Time was running out with Christmas Eve only five days away. He didn’t have a clue what to get her.

  Pete grinned at him. “Meaning you’re hunting for ideas for Jennifer. You haven’t gotten her anything yet, have you?”

  “Shopping for a woman’s hard. If I get her clothes in the wrong size or wrong color, then I don’t know enough about her. If I buy her some small appliance, that’s too impersonal.” He hated the whole shopping thing, for Christmas, her birthday, or their anniversary.

  “Don’t I know that!” Pete commiserated. “I got Annie a pretty purple robe last year. She hates purple, I learned. She asked me if I had ever seen her in purple. Damned if I could remember. But it looked pretty.”

  He took a bite of toast. “Her mom took pity on me this year and told me Annie collects teapots. Hell if I remembered seeing them around the house until she said that. So I bought her two.”

  Jason studied his coffee. Did Jen collect anything that he hadn’t paid attention to? She did like to wear jewelry. That much he knew. He’d stop in at one of the jewelry stores in Topeka in a day or so. He needed to go pick up a couple of gifts for his men, too. Maybe new hats or gloves. Something practical.

  He realized his cock had finally settled down so he could get up without embarrassing himself. He pulled out his wallet and some money to toss on the table. “My share. I need to go. Chores to get to and I want to see how those cookies Jen’s making are going.”

  Pete snorted. “Sure, whatever you say. We all know what you’re really going home for.”

  Walker just sighed and focused on his breakfast.

  * * * *

  Where the hell was he? Jennifer pulled another batch of snickerdoodles from the oven. She’d already made two dozen cherry-chocolate cookies, three dozen oatmeal-raisin cookies, and now three dozen snickerdoodles. And she was so crazy turned-on that she could barely think straight. She just hoped she’d put in the right ingredients, in the right quantities.

  She set the cookie sheet down and closed her eyes, trying to will the tingling between her legs to stop. The press of that plug didn’t give her any relief. The instant he walked in the door she was making him remove it. Then she was taking him to the floor right here in the kitchen.

  She’d no sooner made the vow than she heard the garage door opening and the deep rumbling sound of his truck’s hemi engine. Her heart did all kinds of little ‘yippie!’ skips. Her clit throbbed and she could hardly stand still to wait for him to come find her.

  As nonchalant as she could be, she turned the oven off and picked up the cookie sheet to slide the new batch of cookies onto the cooling racks. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! If he didn’t get in here soon, she was going out to drag him inside.

  “Have you been a good girl?” Jason asked in his deep, rumbling voice from behind her.

  Stay cool. Don’t… The hell with it! She spun to face him. He’d taken his own sweet time coming to her. He’d removed his coat at the back door, his boots, too. Irritation curled through her. Couldn’t he see the frantic need in her eyes? “I need you to take it out. Now.”

  He didn’t usually like being ordered around, except when he knew she was desperate for him. Evidently he sensed that now. He smiled in that suggestive way he had and walked casually toward her. His eyes had darkened, too. His nostrils flared.

  He took the time to cup her face and give her a kiss that had her trembling against him. Only when he was good and ready did he step back. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

  She obeyed instantly, relieved. As she braced her hands on the counter and thrust out her bottom, she saw him reach for an oatmeal cookie. “Hey,” she protested.

  “I’m getting to it,” he mumbled between slow bites. Again, when he was ready, he tugged her shorts down, smoothed his hand over her buttocks, and a second later eased the plug from her tender hole.

  She sighed in relief, felt warm stickiness coating her lower lips and her throbbing clit. He took his time fingering away some of the moisture, showing it to her as she faced him.

  “Someone is ready for her man.” He tossed the plug in the sink and began unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his jeans with incredible slowness.

  “You’re taking too long.” She’d already yanked off her shorts, drew the T-shirt she’d put on over her head, and threw it aside as well. Her pulse raced. She could barely stand still.

  “I love it when you get all impatient.” He pulled out his long, thickened cock and stroked it. “But I’m not letting you have your way with me here on the cold kitchen tile.”

  She stared at the engorged shaft with the blue vein that vined around it. She was desperate to touch the soft skin covering the hardness, more frantic to have it impaling her. What had he said? Not on the kitchen floor.

  Frustrated and forcing her thoughts to the problem, she took hold of his free arm and tugged him into the family room. The room was all decorated for Christmas, the tree lights already on. She didn’t care about any of that at the moment. She led him right in front of the fireplace with the fire she’d already started. With a glance around, she spotted a small quilt on the back of the sofa. She jerked it to her and tossed it on top of the carpet.

  “Happy?” she asked, eager to shove him down and climb on board her husband.

  But the stubborn cowboy shook his head. “Slow down, sweetheart. I’m seriously overdressed. Give me a second to shed my clothes.”

  “I don’t care if you’re overdressed. Just shove your pants out of the way.” She focused on his rod, so thick, so proudly standing out. “I only care about that.”

  “I said to calm yourself.” His tone was firm, his expression determined. “I plan to enjoy you skin-to-skin. I’m not going to do a hal
f-ass job of fucking you.”

  She shivered at the coarseness of his statement. Fucking her. The image was more vivid than if he’d simply said making love. This would be rough, hard, with all the relentless slamming into her as he took them both to that mindless place of pure bliss.

  “Please hurry,” she begged, fidgeting. Her whole body thrummed with longing.

  The exasperating man grinned and finally tossed his shirt, the last of his clothing, on the sofa. His large calloused hand stroked his shaft again and her mouth watered with the desire to touch him. Her hands shook from the strain of resisting until he would allow it, as he’d trained her.

  He bent over to stretch out the quilt. He had a picture-perfect ass, a perfect body from all the physical labor he did as a rancher. She could never get enough of looking at him. Well, unless she was desperate for sex, which she was now. He always seemed to know her feelings, her desire, and he enjoyed testing her, making him move at a snail’s pace. She thought she just might die from her heart racing so fast before he did what she was waiting for.

  Finally he lay down on his back in the middle of the quilt. He looked up at her in expectance. “Well?”

  At last! She wasted no time in going down on her knees to straddle his muscled legs. His cockhead thrust up at her pulsing nether lips. His dark eyes watched her; he kept his arms out at his sides. Sometimes when she did this, he would reach for her breasts, caress them, and knead them until they ached. Sometimes he just lay there, waited to see what she would do, which was what he did this time. It gave her such a thrill when he let her be in complete charge.

  Vibrating with need, she found the strength to take her time. She took him in hand, slowly fed his thickness into her more than ready body. She fought back the desperation to sit fully down on him and drive his cock as deep as it could go. As much as she ached to do so, she wanted to savor every second of being in control of him.

  Inch by inch she took him inside her. Her heart pounded at the pressing need to move faster, that she resisted. Beneath her, she watched his face contort with his own battle against hurrying things along. He had such incredible strength of will. He was giving her this time and she loved him even more for it. Most of the time he was so dominating, determined to be in charge. This was a gift that she treasured.

  But she was ready for the next step. Breathing in quick pants, she slid the rest of the way down his swollen cock until he was completely inside her and his balls were against her ass. She sat up straight, feeling so incredibly full, and looked down at him. His beard-stubbled jaw was clenched and his expression tense. Still, he let her set the pace. What touched her the most was the clear love in his eyes.

  Her inner muscles tight around him, she proclaimed, “I love you.”

  “I know you do.” He reached up to cup her hips. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” He bucked up, hitting the spot inside her that made her crazy. As she sucked in a breath, quivering, he added, “You give me so much; let me do so much, even when I know you aren’t certain about what I demand of you.”

  His praise meant a lot to her, because sometimes she doubted herself in their special relationship. She smiled at him and slowly lifted up his length, easing almost all the way off, sitting still for a couple of torturous seconds. Again, his face mirrored his determination to not take over, to endure.

  When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she fully impaled herself once more. He groaned as her muscles tightened around him, squeezed. She watched him through half-closed eyes, every nerve so aware of him, craving him. His own eyes narrowed to slits and his brow furrowed as if in mounting pain.

  His jaw clenched and he tightened his grip on her hips. “I don’t know how much more I can take,” he gritted out. He released her hips, covered her breasts with his strong hands, and made the nipples harden against his palms.

  As she leaned forward, her long hair draped over his arms. She loved when he touched her breasts, when he suckled them. But this time he released them all too soon. Disappointment curled through her.

  Then he took hold of her hair and tugged her down over him. “That’s better.”

  While she missed his hands on her sensitized breasts, she trembled at the way his cock shifted within her. He was taking charge now and she was ready for that. Proving it, he began pushing upward, forcing her to move.

  She moaned. Heaven. Oh, yes! At the silent insistence in his gaze, she worked her body up and down his rod, squeezing him tighter each time she slid upward.

  When he’d clearly decided to take charge even more, he shifted her beneath him. “My turn.”

  “Yes, your turn,” she purred, desperate for his control.

  For just a second he flashed her a smug, very masculine smile. He pounded into her body as sweat covered his broad chest and dotted his face. Strain filled his expression and his breaths came in fast, ragged pants. He grunted with his efforts, drawing out her own frantic need, making her moan as well.

  “More. More!” she cried out, bucking under him.

  “Oh God!” he bellowed, continuing to grind mercilessly into her. “Uhhhhhh!” He erupted inside her as her body milked him for all he had.

  She cried out as the last of his orgasm filled her. “Jason! Oh, Jason!” And then he collapsed on top of her and she held him to her.

  * * * *

  The rest of the week had passed in a blur. Jason pulled into the garage just after sundown. He sat in his truck for a second. He was tired. There had been party after party to make an appearance at. Between all of the socializing and his work around the ranch, he hadn’t had the energy to even consider making love to Jen again. How damn sad was that?

  He yawned, felt weariness weighing him down. He’d existed these last busy days on memories of that last special day with her. She’d let him do so much to her. He couldn’t imagine any of the other women they knew putting up with his kinky demands at times. Yet he worried that maybe he’d gone too far, at least with suggesting they try another level of BDSM. The collar showing his ownership of her was only a small part of what he wanted. It would be a big step for her, though.

  He thought about how she let him tie her up, make her walk around naked some days, paddle her, flog her. But she’d told him that the collar thing bothered her more than anything else. Something about it being the final act of losing herself, losing her independence.

  Yes and no, in his opinion. He wanted to control her, own her because he loved her. He didn’t want to destroy her. She needed to come to terms with what he wanted and with what he knew she could give. He’d seen her desire to let go, her enjoyment of what they did in her expressive eyes at times. He just had to keep nudging her toward the path he was certain would satisfy them both.

  Time to go find her. He needed to see her sweet face. She had a way of settling him just by being near him. He walked into the house, still worrying about the thoughts that had played in his head all day. He needed to sit down and get her to talk to him. Even if he felt almost positive that she would adjust to a more intense lifestyle, being his slave, he would listen to her concerns. If she were really against even trying, he would give up the idea. But if she really wanted to stop what they’d been doing, he’d have a hard time dealing with that. He enjoyed their games. He believed she did as well.

  Yet she’d become strangely quiet these last few days when they hadn’t had time to play. That worried him. They definitely needed to talk.

  The warmth felt good after coming in out of the cold, blustery day. He smelled chili and smiled. Maybe it wasn’t your usual Christmas Eve dinner, but it was his favorite. Hot and spicy, with thick chunks of beef. She would have made cornbread, too. His stomach growled in anticipation.

  “I’m in here,” she called as he tugged off his coat and hung it in the mudroom. He toed off his boots and hung his hat on another wall peg. Then he went in search of the woman he loved.

  Jennifer sat in front of the brightly lit tree waiting anxiously. Jason was finally home. Her heart raced. She h
ad been waiting all day for him to get done with his chores. She’d wanted to start their traditional Christmas Eve time together early. It hadn’t worked out. A couple of cattle had gotten out. He and the only two ranch hands still here at the ranch instead of somewhere with their families had had to track them down.

  She heard him moving slowly through the mudroom, then the kitchen. Anticipation was killing her. She’d spent extra time making sure everything was perfect. She’d changed the sheets on the bed and added the new red, soft leather tethers she’d gotten, to surprise him with, to the four posts. Just in case. Then she’d made his favorite meal, something that could be eaten at any time…even put away until tomorrow, if that was the way the night went. She hoped it would.

  “Smells good, sweetheart,” he said and stepped into the family room. His eyes found her where she sat. “Well, hell! I should have let those damn cattle go. Should have come home a lot earlier.”

  The heat in his gaze as he looked at her went a long way toward easing her concerns. She’d worried about what she’d bought him for Christmas. This whole lifestyle was still new to her, but she was trying her best to make it work. For him. For them. From time to time he’d mentioned some things that interested him. It had taken her a while to wrap her head around it all. She’d been raised pretty conservatively. Yet gradually she’d started getting excited about trying some of the things that excited him. She just hoped she’d made the right decision.

  He sucked in a deep breath making his big chest rise and fall in a shudder. His nostrils flared in obvious desire. He walked slowly forward, seeming unable to speak.

  Don’t move. Stay seated. She’d read some about how a submissive was supposed to behave. She had read about slave behavior, too, but she wasn’t sure about that yet. Baby steps, she’d told herself. She would move forward slowly with this. The idea of him wanting to do this 24/7 still worried her, but she was willing to try.

  “Merry Christmas,” she said warily.

  She felt awkward sitting here on this big red pillow, naked except for a wide red satin ribbon she’d managed to wrap around her and tie into a bow just above her breasts. What was he thinking? She wished he would say something.