Submitting to the Cattleman (Cowboy Doms 6)

The door to the lounge opened and two more faculty members entered carrying their lunches. Ignoring Alan’s last statement, Leslie gathered up her trash and stood to greet them. “Here, Mike. You can have my seat. I’m finished and need to get back to my classroom. Alan, thanks for joining me. Catch you later.”

Regardless of

her misgivings about entering into this affair and worrying about the potential heartache of getting too close to anyone, Leslie returned home the next day looking forward to the evening out. And when she opened her door to Kurt and a warm fuzzy surrounded her chest to go along with the now familiar surge of heated blood flow through her veins, she was able to stave off the instant panic for now.

“Hi. I’m glad I guessed right and stuck with jeans.” Dressed in his usual denim and cowboy boots, today he wore a dove gray, button down western shirt with the long sleeves rolled back to just below his elbows, enough to draw the eyes to the corded muscles of his forearms.

Those midnight eyes shone with an appreciative light as he looked her over. “You look as good in jeans as you did dressed as Cleopatra, sweetheart. Ready?”

Leslie was powerless to resist his extended hand or the warmth in his gaze. “Why aren’t you cold?” she asked with envy, shivering against the much cooler evening breeze as they walked to his truck.

Grasping her waist, Kurt lifted her onto the passenger seat. “I’m warm-blooded, more so when you look at me like that. Keep it up and you’ll find out how fast I can strip those tight jeans off you.”

“Threats like that only make me want to try harder to get you to act on them, and I’m not the one who planned a night out,” she reminded him. He’d refrained from fucking her the last two times they were together. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe he hadn’t been with other subs during the five weeks between the first and second time they’d met, but she couldn’t understand why he was holding back now, or why it bothered her so much.

Kurt waited until he slid behind the wheel, started the truck and looked at her askance as he backed out before answering, “Is this aversion to socializing something I need to address? If so, tell me now so I can add it to your other issues we need to work on.”

Huffing in annoyance, she snapped, “I don’t have issues. Just because I’m not a social butterfly doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

“Oh, make no mistake, you have issues. But we’ll deal with those in good time. Try and enjoy yourself. Auctions can be fun, even if you’re not bidding.”

They were crowded, loud and smelly. Okay, and fun, Leslie admitted thirty minutes later. Seated on a hard bleacher between Sydney and Kurt, with Caden on Sydney’s other side, she looked down into the pen in front of the auctioneer’s booth and smiled at the pair of miniature horses up for bid.

“Oh, wow, they are so cute.” She sighed and leaned forward, her heart breaking for their poor condition.

“The dogs would love to romp with them. They’re the perfect size…”

Caden interrupted Sydney with an emphatic shake of his head. “No. Absolutely not. My working dogs don’t need playmates, and we don’t need two more rescues.”

“I guess you’ll have to get them, Leslie. Do you have any pets?” Sydney turned inquisitive green eyes on her.

“No, not since I was a kid and we took in a stray mutt. Cute little thing.” She remembered naming the small dog Mitzi and how she used to curl up in bed with her.

Sydney elbowed her with a sly grin. “I’m sure Kurt can find room to board the ponies at his ranch. From what I hear, that place is huge.”

“No,” she shot back before Kurt could say anything. “I can’t afford them and know nothing about horses.” And the last thing she needed was to become indebted to him for caring for her pets, even if those two little ponies were adorable and in sad need of attention.

“I could teach you, and I have plenty of room. Let me know if you change your mind,” he said around the piece of straw he was chewing on.

Why she found that sexy, Leslie had no idea. Maybe the ache for his full possession occupying her mind was responsible for finding everything he did sexy, and arousing.

Bidding signs started going up and like with each new showing, Leslie and Sydney tuned out the auctioneer’s rapid-fire chanting, choosing to talk between them instead. As soon as the miniature horses were sold and led out, Sydney sighed in disappointment.

“If you loved me, you would have bought them for me.”

“I do love you and no, I wouldn’t. You’ve amassed enough extra mouths for us to feed,” Caden returned dryly before gazing over at Leslie. “You have to forgive her. She was an only child and used to getting her way.”

He winked, the light in his eyes teasing. Before she could reply, Sydney defended herself. “Being an only child had its benefits, but it would have been nice to have a sibling to hang out with. How about you, Les? Any sisters or brothers?”

“One sister.” Leslie paused, wincing at her mistake and the stab of pain that always pierced her heart whenever she thought of Roslyn. Her limited conversations with people at the club had never included personal chit chat and the question caught her off guard enough she answered honestly instead of relating the details of the fictional past given to her in the program. “We’re not close and haven’t spoken in years.” God, it hurt to say that. Tears pricked her eyes and she started to rise, to excuse herself and find a restroom, but Kurt grabbed her hand and squeezed. That simple touch, the hard pressure of his larger grip, calmed her enough to get herself under control.

Sydney distracted her further by saying, “You’ll have to come out to the ranch soon. I’ll get Tamara to join us for a ride, maybe a picnic while it’s still decent weather.”

“Thanks, but I don’t ride.” Not to mention that would be getting too close to people she refused to grow attached to or, God forbid, end up putting at risk if Edwin Glascott ever succeeded in unearthing her whereabouts. She didn’t need Detective Reynold’s telling her the death of one of his beloved sons in prison had bolstered his determination to come after her. Regardless of his ability to hide his involvement, she would never forget or underestimate the hatred he’d spewed toward her in the courtroom.

“Really? You’ve been here longer than me, haven’t you?”

Leslie shrugged and turned her eyes on the cattle being ushered into the bidding pen. “Over three years, but I’m with second graders all day, not horses.”