Submitting to the Rancher (Cowboy Doms 1)

Chapter 1

Why now and, more importantly, why me? The headlights of Sydney Baker’s Mustang offered just enough illumination driving down the tree-lined road to cut through the pitch darkness of late evening. Her tires crunched over gravel and dirt, the narrow lane a vast difference from the smooth, four-lane highway she exited five minutes ago. Gripping the steering wheel, she squinted her eyes, peering ahead when she spotted a small glow of light. “Thank God,” she muttered. Wasn’t it bad enough she’d taken a wrong turn out of Billings that had resulted in her missing the three-o’clock report time for her new job by three hours? By then, hunger had forced her to take the time to eat something. Then she had to get a different set of directions to the Dunbar Ranch than her GPS spewed out and pray her poor sense of direction wouldn’t steer her wrong before it became too late to meet her new boss, and that he wouldn’t fire her on the spot for being tardy. She possessed two vices her family despaired of her ever getting under control: a penchant for always getting lost and getting herself into difficult situations.

Okay, in her defense, she’d tried to learn the art of following maps and directions from her phone or the GPS coordinates, of acquainting herself with the directions of east, west, north and south no matter where she was, but finally had to admit defeat by the time she’d hit her mid-twenties and still hadn’t mastered the skill others found so easy. “So I can’t find my way around sometimes. Sue me,” she grumbled to no one. The worst part of being alone and away from her family the past six weeks was having no one around to gripe to. If nothing else, her beloved grandmother and sympathetic cousins were always available to lend an ear.

Sydney breathed a sigh of relief when the road ended at a gravel parking lot filled with vehicles parked in front of a lit-up barn. The large window set above the wide double doors was too high to see inside, but from the number of trucks and cars, there had to be a substantial crowd inside the well-kept barn. Maybe it was a barn dance, or some kind of fund-raising ho-down. What the heck did she know about what went on in the boonies of Big Sky Country? Cutting the engine, she pondered what to do now because it was obvious this was not the sprawling ranch house where she’d accepted a job as the new chef for a crew of twenty cowhands. Checking the time, she swore. If she didn’t find her new employer soon, it would be too late tonight to show up, jeopardizing her position that much more. After working the last five years as the star chef in St. Louis’ top restaurant, throwing together a pot of chili or batch of spaghetti to appease a group of hungry cowboys wasn’t a position she craved to jump into. But, as the saying went, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and since she was down to her last hundred bucks, she couldn’t give up on the position yet, and didn’t dare attempt to access her savings.

Getting out of the car, Sydney hugged her light jacket against the cold breeze. Early October in Montana blew as brisk as January in Missouri, just another reason to bemoan the circumstances that forced her to flee her home and family a few weeks ago. With any luck, someone inside would tell her she was only a ten-minute drive from the ranch and would give her detailed directions. Grabbing the front door’s frigid metal handle, she pulled and damn near fell backward when it didn’t budge.

Shit. Couldn’t anything be easy? Stomping around the side, looking for another entrance, she came across a lower, wide window first. Feeling like a Peeping Tom, or Thomasina, she stood to the side and peeked around to see what she might be dealing with. Shaking her head, Sydney blinked, the

scene inside catching her completely off guard and unlike anything near what she’d expected.

Oh, wow, just… wow. Crouching under the window, she hugged her jacket around her and tried to get a better view of the cavernous room that resembled nothing like the inside of a normal barn. It wasn’t the circular bar centered in the middle of the wood-planked floor that left her agape, but the naked woman sitting on top of it. Leaning back on her hands, the woman’s eyes widened, along with Sydney’s, when the man standing at her side poured his beer between her bent, splayed legs and then dipped his head to lap up the spilled, tangy brew.

Swallowing past her suddenly dry throat, Sydney shifted her gaze, taking in the round tables and chairs then the gyrating bodies on a dance floor, the women wearing little to nothing. A staircase in the far corner caught her eye and she looked up into the loft to see another woman bound on a padded, wooden X, her sweat-glistening body pink-striped from the wicked looking flogger dangling from a tall man’s hand. Damn, did they make all the men in this state that big?

Sydney wasn’t a prude by any means. She’d read her share of smutty romances and drooled over every explicit, erotic word. She enjoyed sex as much as anyone, and since she’d tipped the scales over thirty three months ago, she’d discovered the truth to women reaching their sexual prime in this decade of their lives. Heck, she’d even asked a few of her lovers to slap her butt during sex. Only one granted her request, just a light tap that didn’t even sting. But she could still recall how the slight burn that lingered afterward spread, surprising her by fueling her lust.

It never entered her mind she might be into voyeurism, but the longer she crouched at that window and the more she saw, the longer she wanted to stay and the more she wanted to take in. Suddenly, the night air didn’t feel as cold. From what she could tell, the upper level held all the bondage equipment, and from her limited viewing position, those apparatus were being put to good use by willing women and some of the sexiest men Sydney had ever set eyes on. Then her breath lodged in her throat when she clapped eyes on a tall man whose scowl at something his attractive partner said drew Sydney’s nipples into tight puckers. And that was before he yanked the short blonde over a bar stool, shoved down her shorts and peppered her upturned buttocks with a volley of ass reddening swats.

A shiver racked Sydney’s body, one that had nothing to do with the cool temperature. Would she lie there and take such a punishment, and respond with a wiggle of her hips for more as the other woman just did, or would she blast the son-of-a bitch and stomp off in a fit of pique? God help her, she believed her response would be a hell of a lot closer to the former than the latter, if the warm gush between her legs was any indication. Then her heart rolled over as the stern cowboy lifted the blonde with large, gentle hands, sat on the stool and pulled her onto his lap. Cuddling her to his massive chest, he ran his hand up and down her quivering back in a soothing caress, his head bent to whisper in her ear. Whatever he said calmed the woman, and she shifted on his lap before slowly spreading her thighs as far as her lowered shorts allowed.

The pleased, tender look on the man’s sun-leathered face as he drove two fingers inside the blonde cut Sydney to the quick. No one, not one man who had come and gone from her bed ever gazed at her like that, not even the few she’d grown closest to and most fond of. Is that what had been lacking in her relationships that kept her from responding with the blatant enthusiasm the young woman exhibited as he drove her toward climax? She blew out the breath she’d been holding as the woman climaxed, and then the man patted her labia, the proud look crossing his rough-hewn face setting off a series of butterfly flutters that tickled her lower abdomen. What Sydney would give to have him gaze upon her like that after being driven mad with lust through pain induced pleasure. His tall frame had to top her own five-foot-six height by at least eight or nine inches, which she loved, and his thick, wavy mahogany hair curled around his nape in the most enticing, finger-itching way. She couldn’t detect the color of his much lighter eyes, but the way his rugged face and previously stern mouth softened spoke volumes.

Sydney knew she needed to get going and at least find the closest town to book a room for the night since it’d become too late to arrive at her destination. But this was the most fun she’d indulged in since fleeing St. Louis, and the first time she’d been able to relax and shove aside her worries long enough to enjoy herself. With effort, she tore her eyes away from the compelling man who got her fired up on all cylinders just from eying him and took a few moments to spy on the other goings on. By the time she worked her way around the room and back to the bar where she’d left her jaw-dropping, panty-dampening hunk, he was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh, she started to stand but the deep, irritated voice coming from behind her wiped away Sydney’s disappointment and sent a frisson of heated awareness down her spine. Before she even turned around and looked up, she knew who stood there.

“You’re trespassing on private property and snooping where you don’t belong.”

Caden did not appreciate having the first hours of relaxation away from the grueling task of running his thirty-thousand-acre ranch all week interrupted by an encroaching Peeping Tom. Mindy had been a soft lapful of teary-eyed submission he’d been looking forward to relieving his lust with when his brother, Connor had pointed toward the pale face peering in the window with wide eyes that didn’t shy away from the BDSM activities going on in their private club.

Those big eyes rounded even more when she stood to face him, her red head tilting back to gaze up without flinching. Hell, he had to admire her for that.

“Sorry.” Her small shrug signaled she wasn’t too sorry, and he found himself fighting back an urge to smile. “I’m lost, and this is the first place I came to. Your front door is locked.”