Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders 12)

“You oughten be watchin’ me, Zoe. You oughta be focused on how you’re gonna breathe through the first blow. ’Cause I guarantee it’s gonna hurt.”

The crowd murmured behind them.

“Blindfold her.”

Zoe gasped and turned to glare at Ben. “What? No, you can’t—”

Ben grabbed her jaw, tilting her face up. “I most certainly can, because you’re the one trussed up in chains, not me. And if you don’t show me respect, since this is now my scene? When I’ve deemed that you are done with the pain portion? I won’t let Brian touch you. At all. All you’ll feel is pain. Nothin’ else. So choose.”

She lowered her eyes. “I apologize for my behavior, Sir.”

Brian tied on the blindfold.

At the first whip crack, the crowd moved back.

“Brian. Distract her.”

As soon as Brian’s lips touched hers, Zoe relaxed. She arched into him, making soft noises as he broke the kiss.

“Count. Starting from one.” Ben placed the first blow on the fleshy part of Zoe’s right shoulder.

“One. Thank you, Sir.”

Ben kept moving, walking closer, letting Brian offer soothing words and caresses as he marked her skin with random stinging blows. He concentrated the hits on her bu**ocks and the backs of her thighs, remembering those as her hot spots. But he felt no stirring of arousal. No need to caress her skin or take her to the next level. He felt…tired. Maybe a little used. More than ready to be done with this night.

At Zoe’s full body slump, he let his whip fall to the side. Brian moved in and gave his sub what she needed.

The crowd parted for him, but all eyes returned to the action at the front.

Ben wanted a shot of whiskey and the comfort of his own bed. He cut down the hallway when a hand landed on his shoulder, jerking him to a stop. He whirled around and his cousin Dalton was in his face, wearing a look of disgust.

“What the f**k was that I just saw, Bennett?”

“Dalton?” Ben glanced at the crowd to see if a monitor was close by. “How did you get in here?”

“I dropped your name at the door. They let me in with a guest pass.”

He’d asked for that pass for Ainsley. The fact she’d never use it made him lash out. “Go away. I ain’t in the mood to deal with you right now.” Ben sidestepped him.

But Dalton anticipated the move. “What are you in the mood for? Beating on another helpless woman? With a f**king bullwhip, for Christsake?”

“Keep your goddamn voice down.”

“The f**k I will. I want some f**kin’ answers on why you get off whipping women as they cry out for you to stop hitting them! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you with that older couple. I looked in the window and watched you beat her. And then I saw you immediately jump at the chance to beat another chick. Jesus. What did either of those women do to you?”

Dalton was more muscle bound, but Ben had more experience dealing with hotheads, so he grabbed his cousin by his shirt and shoved him into room three.

Ben would’ve welcomed Dalton taking a swing at him. But Dalton paced. Muttered to himself. Ben had wondered how he’d handle it if this day came. How he’d explain. If he even wanted to try.

Then Dalton invaded his space. “How long have you been comin’ to this place?”

“I helped start this club six years ago.”

“So how many women have you tortured and raped during that time?”

Ben shoved Dalton and held the whip handle against his throat. “Back the f**k off, Dalton. You don’t have the first f**kin’ clue what you’re talking about. You’re just flapping your gums, spouting bullshit and proving your ignorance.”

“I know what I saw.”

“Do you? If what I was doing was so unwanted or wrong, then why the hell didn’t the woman’s husband stop me? Then why didn’t any one of the fifty other members watching the last scene step in and stop me? Not because they were scared I’d turn the whip on them. They didn’t stop it because they understood what I was doin’. You don’t.”

“You’re goddamned right I don’t,” Dalton retorted. “What kind of man does this? And do you know the really sick part? You didn’t get off doin’ it.”

“So you’re saying you’d understand it more if I would’ve f**ked those women afterward?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck, I don’t know. This makes no sense to me.” Dalton paced to the back of the room and jammed a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Why?”

Ben dropped into the chair. “You think I can explain it enough to satisfy you? I recognize that look in your eyes, Dalton and that is the reason I don’t broadcast this. Here at the club I find women who are looking for the same thing.”

“Lookin’ to get their asses whaled on?” Dalton sneered.

“Sometimes.”

“So you’re tellin’ me this private club is a real freak parade.”

“This place is no more a freak parade than the Golden Boot, where you troll for pu**y every weekend.”

Dalton took a belligerent stance, arms crossed over his chest, feet braced wide. “Wrong. This ain’t normal.”

“You’ve never tied a woman up during sex?”

“Ah. Sure. Who hasn’t?” Dalton shifted his stance, then his eyes. “So I oughta be afraid the next step will be shackling a woman in chains and beating on her in front of a room full of strangers?”

He sank into the closest chair. “This is pointless.”

“Does your family know?”

Ben shook his head.

“They should. Maybe they can get you some help, cuz, ’cause this is seriously f**ked up.”

He thought he’d conquered the fear of being outed to his family. But the idea of his brothers and parents staring at him, with Dalton’s same judgmental eyes, made him physically ill. His voice came out a hoarse whisper. “You gonna take it upon yourself to tell them?”

“I don’t know. But you can’t deny the reason you haven’t told them is because you know it’s wrong.”

Now he had to worry that Dalton would blab to the entire McKay family.

“Look at yourself, Ben. Sitting there holding a whip, a whip that you used on not one, but two women tonight. And you’re tellin’ me I’m the one with the problem.” He shook his head. “It’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad.” Dalton stormed out.