Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders 12)

After they’d taken a couple of bites, Ben spoke. “Given the way we met, seems strange to swap life stories, but I reckon we oughta get the basics out of the way. So go ahead. Ask me anything.”

That was a loaded question. “You’re part of the McKay family ranching dynasty.”

“Dynasty.” Ben snorted. “I’m just a simple rancher.”

“So your main job is…”

“Cattle. Feeding them, breeding them, moving them, selling them. I work with my older brother Quinn on our section of the ranch. But we all help each other out if need be. Certain times of the year are busier than others. It ain’t a nine to five job, like bankers’ hours.”

She bristled until she realized he was teasing. “Funny, cattleman. Have you ever been married?”

“Nope.” He shot her a sideways glance. “You?”

“I was married for almost five years. Been divorced almost two years.”

“Kids?”

“None.”

“So what happened to bust up your marriage?”

Ben’s forthright manner was refreshing. “The things that made us compatible in the beginning of our relationship started to wear on me. My ex was set in his ways and didn’t understand why I wanted things between us to change. Luckily, I got out of the marriage before I became bitter, but I didn’t get out unscathed.”

His gaze hooked hers. “To be blunt, you wanted to experiment, sexually, and he wasn’t on board?”

“He was appalled. At one point he told me I needed counseling to deal with my unhealthy attitude about sex and my desire for deviant behavior.”

“What a f**kin’ idiot. I don’t need to tell you that you’re better off without him.”

“I get that he wasn’t a sexual man. For a few years I thought I was asexual, just like him, but I realized I wasn’t. The fear that I’d find myself sixty years old and regret choosing a man with a pension plan instead of finding real passion gave me the courage to end the marriage.” She pushed her food around on her plate. “His last shot at me? I was a sex addict, control freak, ball-buster. Which led me to believe I was a Domme. So now I don’t know what the hell I am.”

Then Ben’s hands were on her face. “What you are is a beautiful, sexy woman. Smart enough to get out of a situation that didn’t fit you. The real you.”

Her eyes searched his. “You really believe I’m submissive.”

“Yes. It’s not control you want, Ainsley. It’s freedom from control. Freedom not to have to micromanage every aspect of your life. Freedom to trust that your sexual well-being will be tended to by a man you trust. Freedom to feel instead of think.”

“You are the man who can get me to do that?”

Ben leveled that panty-dampening smile at her. “Oh yeah.” His hands fell from her face. “We’ll finish this conversation after we eat.”

The rest of the meal was quiet, except for the dogs barking. After he cleared the plates, he led her to the oversized corduroy couches. Ben plopped down beside her, and picked up her hand. “Tell me about your job.”

“That’s guaranteed to put you to sleep.”

He chuckled.

“I switched banking corporations during our separation since my ex and I had worked for the same company. Basically I started over.”

“So you go around opening new banks?”

“No. This was sort of a fluke. I turned around a branch office in Denver. When this job unexpectedly opened up, they offered it to me. I’m probably in over my head. And since this is a small bank in a small community, they expect me to have a community presence.”

He groaned. “A man could go broke supporting all the community causes.”

“Two words a banker doesn’t like to hear together: go broke.”

Ben turned his head, brushing his lips in front of her ear. “Does the stern bank president ever wear her hair up?”

Okay. That was an abrupt subject change. “Sometimes.”

“Would you jerk away if I put my mouth on that sexy sweep of skin between your hairline and your shoulder?” Ben blew a stream of air across her ear. “Would I have to pull your hair to take what I wanted?”

More shivers spread across her body. “I thought you said we’d just talk tonight?”

“We are talkin’.”

“So why does this feel like a seduction?”

“Because I am trying to get you to feel instead of think.”

Ainsley fought the urge to push him away as his mouth wandered over her skin. She’d never let a man know her weak spots, let alone hone in on them.

“I sense the fight in you, angel. Let. It. Go.”

Hot kisses seared her neck and she whimpered.

“Drop your head back on the couch.”

Ben’s voice had become Bennett’s. Demanding in that deceptively soft way that only increased its power.

She inhaled a deep breath and…obeyed.

Bennett nestled his mouth into the curve of her neck. Kissing her with tiny pecks. Flicking his tongue over the pulsing vein. Whipping her into such a frenzy that she didn’t notice his fingers inching up her thigh until his fingertips breached midpoint beneath her skirt.

When she tensed, he warned, “Don’t. Spread your legs.”

As soon as she complied, Bennett stroked her slit, while his mouth kept up the relentless assault on her neck.

Ainsley shifted her hips, wanting more contact.

“Be still,” he warned sharply, nipping her skin in admonishment.

Hard to be still when her whole body vibrated. When she already dangled so close to the edge. Which was ridiculous because he’d been touching her for like two minutes, tops. Over her panties.

“Stop thinking.”

Her breathing became choppier yet when Bennett’s free hand cupped her breast. The sensations of his mouth and finger stroking her, almost in tandem, were too good, too much, too intense, too intimate. She needed to wiggle free and find her wits.

“Be. Still.”

“I can’t. I’m too—”

Bennett sucked on that magic spot the same time he pinched her nipple hard. His thumb pressed against her clit and she detonated. Every pulse point in her body throbbed in time to the blood pulsing in her clit.

Ainsley lost herself then. Her mind became blessedly blank. When she raised her head, he withdrew his hand from under her skirt. He straightened her bra and blouse.

“You respond so well to me,” he murmured.