Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders 12)

“Ben, it’s—”

“It’s not okay. Christ, it’s far from okay. Just hear me out, all right? ’Cause I’m not used to…doin’ shit like this.” He exhaled a frustrated burst of air. “Not that I don’t f**k up from time to time, but I’ve never had to approach a sub and apologize for my inappropriate Dom behavior.”

She said nothing.

“What I did was out of line. I won’t make excuses. I won’t be the guy who apologizes, and tries to defend his actions after the apology.”

“But?”

“But nothin’.” Ben studied his drink. “I was wrong. I made the punishment about what I wanted, instead of makin’ it about what you needed. That goes against everything I am as a Dom and as a man. Jesus. I…” He looked into her eyes and felt his stomach bottom out. “Ainsley. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” she said softly. “I knew it last night. But I appreciate you coming by and saying it and making sure I was all right.”

“So are we okay?”

“You mean am I willing to continue as we were? With me as your submissive for the next couple weeks?”

He nodded, fear clawing at his throat that he’d f**ked this up.

“Yes. But I want to point out that although it was an extreme punishment scene for us, I could’ve said my safe word at any time. I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I trusted you. I still do. Although I was confused during the scene and upset when it ended, I really understand why you did it.”

Immediately Ben was off the couch, framing her face in his hands, kissing her with sweetness, passion and gratitude. He murmured, “Thank you,” against her mouth. Taking a moment to rest his forehead to hers. Taking a moment to wallow in relief.

“However, I don’t know if I’m up for any Dom and sub play tonight.”

“We’ll put a buffer between last night and tomorrow night.” He traced the pulse pounding in her throat. “Because Bennett will be back tomorrow night. Guaranteed.”

Ainsley stared at him.

He bristled under her scrutiny. “What?”

“It’s not a role for you, is it? Not a once in a while thing. It’s who you are.”

“What? Bein’ a Dom?”

“Yes. You can tone him down. Put him aside for a while. But he’s always there.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not as much as I thought it would. Because you’re the real deal in this situation. I’m not. I’m…what is the BDSM term? A tourist. I’m gawking around, wide-eyed, wanting to see and experience everything before I go back to where I belong.”

His hopes plummeted. “Is that really how you see this playing out?”

“I don’t know. I have a few more weeks to figure it out.”

He sat beside her and took her hand. “Something else you said last week has been bugging me. You accused me of holding back with you. And I realized you’re right. I have been.”

Her eyes searched his. “Why?”

Because this thing with you scares the living hell out of me and I don’t want you to run out when I open up. “Probably because I’ve only been on one date outside the club in the last three years.”

“Recently?”

“A couple months ago. The awkwardness reminded me why I don’t go on dates. She talked the entire time, tellin’ me all sorts of personal stuff, and she got snippy when I didn’t blab my entire past life history. But it’s a habit because I don’t share personal things about myself at the club. I just share my body and my expertise. Crude, but true. So when you started asking me questions about what I like to do outside the club and at the ranch, I automatically dodged the questions.”

“Do you feel I’m prying into your life beyond the Dom/sub parameters we set?”

“That’s the thing, this situation is unlike any other for me too. I can’t fall into that same pattern with you.” Ben touched her face. “I don’t want to.”

“What do you want, Ben?”

“To really get to know you beyond those Dom/sub parameters. To let you get to know me. To hang out.” He didn’t add like normal people, because what was normal for other people probably wouldn’t ever be enough for them. “It’s a beautiful night. Would you take a drive with me?”

She struggled to respond.

So he gave her an out. “It’s okay if you say no—”

“I’d love to go.” Ainsley pecked him on the mouth. “Let me grab a coat.”

Ben opened the passenger door of his truck and helped her inside. The night air held a cold bite, which meant the end of the Indian summer was near.

Neither spoke as the pickup rolled away from Sundance. The sky was full-on dark. Hills and valleys that during the day were lined with fall’s glorious gold and red hues were austere shadows at night. The truck’s tires clacked against the road’s grooved surface and they didn’t meet another vehicle for ten minutes.

Welcome to Wyoming.

He turned onto a gravel road. The steep, twisty incline had Ainsley reaching for the strap above the door. “Good idea to hang on. It’ll straighten out here in a minute.”

As soon as they crested the hill, trees flanked the plateau. A plateau where nothing blocked the magnificent view of Devil’s Tower.

She leaned closer to the windshield. “Oh wow.”

Ben cut the engine and the lights. “I brought blankets so we can sit outside.”

He dropped the tailgate, covering the cold metal with an old sleeping bag. He wrapped a blanket around them, bringing her close to his body. “Warm enough?”

“Yes.”

They stayed snuggled together, soaking in the brilliance of the stars, content with quiet.

After a while, she said, “This is such a gorgeous spot. I didn’t know it was here.”

“It’s weird when you’re used to living among scenery like this—” he gestured to the sprawling grand vista, “—it becomes easy to take it for granted. So I come here when I need to be humbled.”

She threaded her fingers through his. “I’m happy you brought me to a place that matters to you. It is beyond amazing.”

“I’m glad you didn’t think I dragged you out here because I was too cheap to take you someplace else.”

Ainsley snickered. “But I need to ask… Did you bring girlfriends here when you were in high school?”