Submitting to the Rancher (Cowboy Doms 1)

Chapter 4

Sydney stood rooted by the sofa, her body humming with unfulfilled arousal as she watched Caden saunter out. Squeezing her thighs together, she tried to still the heated pulses between her legs that mimicked the lingering, warm throbbing encompassing her butt. Nothing could have prepared her for the surprising pleasure/pain of her first, bare-butt spanking, or the longing she’d felt for him to increase after his erotic abuse. There’d been a certain intimacy to lying over his lap with only her bottom exposed. The rough abrasion of his hard, denim covered thighs against her soft abdomen added to the exciting strength of his control; the roughness of his leathery palm connecting with stinging force against her cheeks demonstrated who had the upper hand and who was the boss, and she liked it.

Shaking her head at her own foolish mistake that had inadvertently given her what she’d been pining for, Caden’s hands on her, she wondered where they would go from here. Somehow, she doubted this meant he’d have a change of heart and would allow her into his club, but hope springs eternal, and all that. She’d just have to keep working on him until he caved, or fired her, whichever came first. Heading to the kitchen to start dinner, she shied away from delving into the reason behind the way her heart contracted from that last thought.

The next morning, Sydney rolled over in bed, the slight pressure on her tender backside tickling her with a frisson of pleasure. Shaking her head at the unaccustomed responses still making themselves known, she padded into the bathroom, cooled her heated cheeks with a splash of cold water and winced as she pulled her jeans up over her butt. “It’s going to be a long day,” she muttered, brushing out her hair before strolling into the kitchen to whip up breakfast.

She had just poured the eggs into a frying pan when Caden beat any of the others inside. “Almost ready,” she tossed over her shoulder, wishing her pulse rate wouldn’t kick up every time he looked at her with that intense, probing stare. “What?” Wariness colored her voice.

“I wanted to check on you before anyone else came in.” Striding across the tiled floor to stand in front of her at the stove, he lifted her chin with two fingers. “Are you okay this morning?”

“Are you inquiring about my fall from the horse or your punishment for that infraction?” she asked dryly.

“Both and be honest.”

The nearness of his tall, imposing body unnerved her, in a wholly good way. She turned back to the eggs, stirring them as she assured him, “I’m fine, boss. Thank you for asking.”

“Good,” he replied.

She felt his pause and then heard him sigh before he moved away as the door opened, and several others tromped inside. With a mental headshake, Sydney finished putting breakfast on the table, wishing she could figure out what made her rancher tick.

That evening, she stood at the kitchen sink again, rinsing dishes and fighting back frustration and a sweep of overwhelming despair. Caden had spent the entire day either keeping his distance or treating her with aloof politeness, the same as any boss would behave toward an employee, damn it. Every step she’d taken today, every time she’d sat down, the lingering soreness from his spanking had made itself known and her sheath still wept in response. Her agitated, needy state didn’t faze him however, since, after the hands left the house following dinner, he wouldn’t even discuss allowing her to visit the club tonight. Instead, she watched him walk out with Connor without a word after getting called to the barn on an emergency birth.

“Stubborn, frigging moron,” she muttered, snapping off the faucet.

“More like a fucking ass,” Connor injected from behind her, surprising her with his return. “You know, Sydney, I’m equal partners in the club.”

Whirling, she gaped at him before a slow smile stretched her cheeks. “You are?”

He nodded, returning her grin. “I am, and I say you’re welcome to attend as a guest tonight. I’ll let the other Doms know you’re there to observe first, and that you’re a newbie. You can take it as far as you’d like. But I suggest we leave before big brother gets wind of it. It won’t take him long to tend to that birthing.”

Tossing the towel on the counter, she threw her arms around Connor and hugged him tight. “I can be ready in a few minutes. Don’t leave without me.”

“Since I don’t want to spend a good portion of the night looking for you, I’ll give you five minutes. After that, offer’s off the table.”

She heard him chuckle as she dashed into her room. Changing into a skirt and low-cut, long-sleeved tee, she met him at his idling truck with time to spare. “Made it!” she exclaimed, tossing her hair back and slamming the door with a quick glance toward the barn.

“So, you did. Caden’s still tied up out there, but let’s hope he doesn’t take a strip off both our hides when he shows up at the club.”

The Barn, as they’d named the club, proved to be even more pulse-pounding exciting inside than it had been watching from the window. Sydney figured there were around thirty people gathered on the first floor when she and Connor entered, with several others already up in the loft, enjoying the BDSM equipment she’d only gotten a glimpse of last week. Connor handed her a one-night punch card for her two-drink limit then led her over to the bar and introduced her to the drop-dead gorgeous man eyeing her with piercing grey-green eyes filled with speculative interest, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Grayson, this is our new cook and my guest tonight, Sydney Baker. Sweetie, Grayson is Willow Springs’ sheriff and the third owner of the club.”

“Nice to meet you, Sheriff.” Sydney held out her hand, surprised at the warm tingle his grip elicited. She put her reaction down to a normal response, given her long celibacy followed by her frustrating, unrequited lust for her boss this past week.

“The pleasure’s mine, Sydney. Have you taken a tour yet?”

“No, but I think I’ll stick to this level for now.” She glanced toward the dance floor, noting a few, bouncing bare breasts before scanning the rest of the spacious room. Her face warmed as she caught sight of a woman slipping to her knees, her hands and mouth reaching for the jutting cock of the man standing before her. “Then again,” she stated with a rueful grin, “down here may not be any tamer than the loft for a newbie like me.”

The midnight-haired sheriff winked and drawled, “Trust me, sugar, upstairs, any Dom here can take you much further.” He stood to his impressive height of six-four and clasped her hand. “Connor, if you don’t mind, I’d like to dance with your guest.”

“Feel free.” He looked from Grayson to her. “Sydney, the only thing you need to remember tonight is that red is the club’s safeword. Say it, and whatever is happening will stop immediately, including something innocent like dancing.”

From the little she’d seen, even dancing wasn’t so inno

cent, but Sydney nodded, too thrilled with the sheriff’s attention after a week of pining for a man who wanted nothing to do with her outside her job to wonder if she was in over her head. “Got it, thanks.”

Caden entered the club in a pissy mood. As if the memory of a world-class ass with soft, malleable buttocks that reddened to a beautiful hue under his hand wasn’t enough of a burden the past twenty-four hours, he’d also developed another bout of guilt to contend with. The thought of leaving Sydney alone for another long night kept biting at his ass during the difficult breech delivery of a calf. When he’d returned to the house intending to offer to stay home with her and found her gone, his first thought was she’d gotten herself lost again. A quick call to Connor had set his mind at ease over that possibility but hearing his brother mention her whereabouts took his mood from tepid to boiling in the blink of an eye, effectively erasing the guilt.