Spindled, p.17
Playing With Fire: A Spicy Best Friend's Brother, Small Town Cowboy Romance (Whittaker Ranch Book 1), page 17
“No,” I reply too quickly, clearing my throat. “No, definitely not. Any other time…” I trail off, squeezing my eyes shut. I’m hyper-aware of Maddox at the other end of the bar and I can’t stand what I’m about to say. “I’m just sort of… exclusive with someone right now.”
Her eyes flick over my shoulder, brow raising, but she hums. “I’d tell you that you’re too pretty to be ‘sort of’ exclusive with someone, but given how that cowboy’s glaring at me right now, I think it’s safe to assume you’re the one putting on the brakes, not him.”
I purse my lips but don’t respond. She smiles and downs her drink in just a couple of sips before pulling out her wallet. A business card and a couple of dollars land on the bar.
“Don’t know what you’re running from, babe, and I don’t much care since I’m only passing through myself, but just a bit of advice, woman-to-woman,” she says, nearly mocking my earlier words. “A man that looks at his woman like Mr. Cowboy over there is looking at you, is worth standing still for. Text me if you find yourself single again and we’ll hook up the next time I pass through town.”
Her eyes flit over to Maddox again and she smirks while I clench my teeth. “Or, if you need a third…”
“We don’t,” I snap, any attraction I had for the woman washing away at the very idea of her touching Maddox.
She laughs again as she stands from the bar, hooking her purse over her shoulder. The sound grates this time. “I’m not into men, baby. I just think watching the two of you together would be fun. Grain of salt.”
I shove her money between my tits, refusing to watch her walk away just in case she looks back to see if she still has my attention.
“Did you want anything to drink, or were you just here to glare at the other patrons all night?” I snap at Maddox when I make my way back over to him.
“Didn’t know you were into women,” he says, clearing his throat after. I’ve been a ticking time bomb the past couple of days, and now I’m fresh from Sky’s assumptions and my embarrassment over how possessive I’d gotten of Maddox. It makes me assume the worst intentions.
“Yup.” I pop the p. “You know where the door is if you’ve got an issue with it.” I reach under the bar and pull a bottle of Coors from it, using the edge of the bar to get the top off. I’ve never wanted to down a customer’s beer as bad as I want to down Maddox’s, but Pat’s here and he’d love nothing more than to rat on me to Dale. Dale wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but I’d rather save him the headache.
Like Maddox can tell where my thoughts are, he leans over the bar and snatches it from me. “Fix your attitude or I’ll fix it over my lap tonight, Tex. I don’t have an issue with you being into women. I’ve got an issue with anyone putting their hands on you, though.”
His warning thrills me. He hasn’t spanked me, not seriously, since our first night together. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling so keyed up. Maybe ‘letting it ride’ wasn’t the right choice.
“She wanted to do a lot more than put her hands on me, Maddie,” I tell him, mixing another Old Fashioned for Pat, whose glass is getting low. He hasn’t flagged me down for one yet, but that’s only because he’s got his eyes glued to one of the TVs and hasn’t realized he’s nearly out.
“She wanted to eat my pussy,” I tease.
“I’m sure she did,” he says, watching me a bit too closely. “Point out one person in here that doesn’t.”
I walk Pat his drink, and he grunts his thanks, completely missing that I’ve bent forward intentionally so that he could get a peek down my shirt.
“You know, if you need a spanking, you can just ask for one,” Maddox says when I get close enough again. “Most of the time, I’ll let you have it. You don’t have to rile me up like this.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and my heart starts to race. I hate how quick I am to anger. It reminds me I’m my father’s daughter. But I’m also getting really, really tired of people calling me out tonight.
“Fuck a brat and you’re gonna get bratty behavior, Maddox. I don’t know what to tell you. Besides, I don’t need a spanking. I’m not a fucking submissive and you need to stop trying to make me into one. I can enjoy being manhandled a bit without becoming your little sex slave.”
His jaw clenches and it’s like there’s a neon sign in my head flashing Danger! but instead of a warning, it feels like a promise. Like I’ve riled Maddox up enough to get what I want from him.
As quickly as it comes, he smoothes it away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” It feels like getting stuck at the top of a roller coaster, like being right there on the edge of an orgasm but pulling your hand away.
His eyes stick to mine. It’s too quiet for my liking, especially in such a loud bar. Chase approaches down the bar and waves me over. I get him another beer and then try to stay busy the rest of the night.
Maddox stays until close, but we don’t talk anymore. He watches the game and nurses his beer while I drown in my thoughts. He’s right, of course. I could just ask for a spanking, but I didn’t really want to admit that I needed one because it scared me to consider what that may say about me.
A woman who’s frequently abused by her father shouldn’t want a man to hit her, shouldn’t need it. I wasn’t stupid. I knew there was a huge difference between Dad’s abuse and Maddox’s spankings. Dad hit me to belittle me, to steal my power away and control me. Maddox’s spankings were a product of trust and consent.
It wasn’t necessarily the pain I was seeking from him, but more the release that came from it. If I could pretend I put up a fight and he subdued me, I didn’t have to come to terms with the fact that I was submitting—willingly giving control to a man when all my life had ever been was a man taking control of me.
It felt stupid to seek it out, to hand over control to Maddox after what Dad put me through. I should be running the other way. I should be fighting it. So I do.
I shout out for last call and head over to Maddox, intending to tell him it’s time for him to go, but he cuts me off before I can even open my mouth.
“Submission isn’t about being a sex slave, and I know you know that. I know you just said it to piss me off and I’m trying really hard not to jump to conclusions about that.”
He pauses and I swallow because he’s terrifying me. I thought he’d just been sitting here all night ignoring me, but he’d been thinking. If he got too close to the truth of things, I didn’t know what I’d do.
“If a spanking is what you’re needing, from now on, you’re going to need to come out and say it bluntly. I’m not humoring this mindset you seem to have that angering me will cause me to punish you. You’re right that there’s a difference between enjoying rough sex and being a submissive. If you’re not one, that’s fine, but don’t stand there and tell me these barbs you’re throwing out are just your typical brattiness.”
Maddox doesn’t ask me if I understand or anything else a Dom would typically say after delivering a talking-to like the one I just got. I nod anyway.
Instead of the victory and the sore ass I wanted from pissing him off, I’ve only disappointed him. There’s a deep pit in my stomach that makes me feel like a little kid again. He sighs and stands, leaning over the bar to kiss my forehead.
“I’ll be outside.”
We haven’t talked about me spending the weekend with him again, but he doesn’t wait for me to correct him, flipping off the open sign for me as he leaves.
TWENTY-NINE
MADDOX
If Austin were a puppy, her tail would be between her legs as she walks out to my pickup a few seconds after the lights go out in the bar. She’s pulled sweatpants and a jacket over her clothes, so I get out and lean back against the grill instead of insisting we talk in the cab of the truck.
I want to open my arms for her, let her know she can always find her refuge there when the world gets too heavy, but I’m the one who made it heavy this time.
It scares me to think about Austin trying to piss me off, hoping to be punished for it, connecting those two things like that. There’s a difference, like I told her, between bratting and what she was doing. Bratting is innocent shit. Flirting with Pat was bratting. Calling me old was bratting.
The past few days, she’s been a bit more bratty than usual and I’ve just been biding my time, hoping she’d come right out and ask for what she wanted. I realized today she may not know that’s an option, but when I told her and she turned mean, my mind wandered.
Pieces of the puzzle were clicking together. I remembered our first conversation on the phone. How quick she’d been to talk shit about men and how I’d hung up with this certainty that Austin had been hurt before. I’d figured then that it was a heartbreak or something emotional, but now I’m worried a man had hurt her physically. There’s not a single part of me that isn’t murderous at the thought.
She seemed to connect anger to pain, acting out to getting hit. Consensual spankings were different from physical abuse and she knew that, but I think her mind might connect the two anyway—in a cause-and-effect sort of way.
“Do you want to come back to mine tonight?” I ask her when she’s close enough.
She pulls her jacket tighter around her and I curl my fingers into fists so I don’t reach out for her. I second-guess every single thing I do, terrified there’s gonna be a day she leaves and I never see her again. That she doesn’t even say goodbye.
“Not if you’re still mad at me.” She’s not even looking at me. I barely even hear her over the quiet hum of my engine.
I sigh and give up on holding myself back, tugging her against my chest before she can fight it. “I’m not mad at you, Tex. I just wish you’d realize that these walls you keep throwing up between us are pointless. Whatever this is, whether you’re here for a long time or just a good time, pushing me away makes it harder on both of us.”
Austin doesn’t say anything so I lead her over to her pickup. When she gets behind the wheel, I close the door behind her and climb into mine, following her out of the lot. My grasp on the wheel is tight, and I don’t even bother with turning the radio up, too focused on praying she turns towards the ranch instead of us going our separate ways.
She does, stopping her truck in front of the closed gate. I pull in behind her and jump out to open it for the both of us, appreciating that she’s learned me well enough to know to stay put.
We pull up in front of my cabin and I swear under my breath when I see the lights still on at Mama’s. I hope Austin doesn’t notice the silhouette spying through the kitchen window as we drive past. I’m surprised Mama hasn’t already gotten on my case about Austin staying here the past couple of weekends, but gift horse and all that.
Inside, Austin undresses like she’s some terrified bride on her wedding night, so I don’t make a show of appreciating her body, even though I do. I pull my jeans and tee shirt off, tossing them on the chair in the corner and heading to the bathroom.
Austin follows shortly after, wrapping her arms around me from behind while I’m brushing my teeth. The coldness of her piercings against my back makes me shiver. She presses a kiss to my shoulder blade as an apology and I watch in the mirror as her hand creeps down my abs to play with the waistband of my boxer briefs. I grab it, threading our fingers together on my stomach while I keep brushing with the other hand. She pokes her head around my arm to catch my gaze in the mirror.
When I spit and rinse off my toothbrush, I turn and pull her around to give her another hug. She’s completely naked. “You want a shirt to sleep in, or would you prefer to sleep like that?”
Her brows furrow. I know she expects sex. I’m sure, in her mind, it’ll put us back on equal footing. But as gorgeous as she is right now, the last thing I want to do is fuck her.
“I want a spanking,” she admits quietly and pride surges through me at her bravery, despite the insecurity in her eyes. I hold her face in my hands, running my thumbs over her cheekbones. It’s intimate, but I have a feeling she’s going to want to leave in a minute.
“Good girl,” I say gently, not sure if it’s welcome. She’d said I was trying to force her into a submissive role, one she didn’t feel she fit in. I didn’t think I was, but it wasn’t really up to me to disagree with how she feels. “But not tonight.”
She stiffens and then pulls out of my arms, shoving at my chest. The betrayal in her eyes makes my chest ache. I know she’s thinking I’ve tricked her into being vulnerable, into asking for help just so I could turn her down, but that isn’t it at all.
I grab her chin to make her listen to me. “I didn’t say no. I said not tonight. If you still want a spanking in the morning, I’ll give it to you. Tonight, we’re both in a shitty headspace, and I refuse to punish you when I can’t be completely present.”
“It’s not a punishment. It’s a funishment,” she argues, huffing as she crosses her arms over her chest, hiding her nakedness from me.
“Thems the rules,” I say lightly, pinching her ass to make her yelp and diffuse some of this tension. “Guess you’ll have to stay through the night to get what you want, won’t you? Now, do you want a shirt to sleep in, or would you prefer to sleep naked?”
She glares at me, but I’m not going back on this. I flip off the bathroom light and leave her standing there in the dark, already headed to my dresser because I’m pretty sure I know what she’ll choose. Her body is her weapon, but I’ve taken away her ability to weaponize it tonight, so I’d imagine…
“A shirt.”
I do my best to hide my smile.
A shrill ringing jolts me awake and Austin flinching against my chest has me wrapping my arm around her tighter. We’d gone to sleep on different sides of the bed, but I always woke up with her clinging to me. It was usually a guaranteed way to start my morning off on the right foot.
She groans against my chest when she realizes it’s my phone. “Sorry, baby.” My apology means fuck-all, apparently, because she pulls away from me to the other side of the bed again, pulling the pillow over her head even though I’ve already silenced the phone.
“‘Lo?”
“Sorry, bro. I know your girl’s over, but the power’s out and the barn generator didn’t start. Calves are getting cold.”
“Shit!” I’m out of bed like a rocket, holding my phone between my ear and shoulder as I grab my jeans and start tugging them up my legs. “I’ll be there in a minute. Any idea why it didn’t start? How long’s the power been out?”
I pull the phone away to tug my shirt over my head like I didn’t just ask him a question I needed to hear the answer to. Austin sits up in bed, blinking blearily.
“—went offline about an hour ago, so that’d be my guess. Think the fuel line has gummed up—fuck!” I jerk the phone away from my ear. “Sorry, man. Just get here.”
The call ends and I stupidly try to flip on the lamp by my bed so I can get the flashlights out of my nightstand. It takes me a few tries before I realize what an idiot I am.
“What’s the matter?”
“Power’s out. I’ll turn the fireplace on before I leave, but I’ve gotta go get the generator started up and make sure the calves don’t get too cold. It’ll probably take the rest of the night. I’m sorry, baby.”
I find the flashlight blind and shove it in my back pocket just in time to see the silhouette of her slipping out of bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home,” she says through a yawn. The bed jostles slightly as she bumps into it. “You’ve got work to do. Figured—”
“Figured wrong,” I cut her off, snatching her sweatpants off the floor and tossing them on the bed. She’ll need them to stay warm, but she’s not putting them on to leave. “I want you to lay your pretty self back in my bed and go back to sleep, so when I get done with what I’m sure is gonna be a miserable morning, I know I’ve got you here waiting for me as my reward.”
“But—”
I press a kiss to her lips. “Bed. I don’t have time to fight with you, Tex. Calves are getting cold and Jamie’s waiting. I’ll have my phone. Be a good girl for me.”
Leaving without making sure she’s gonna obey me is hard, but the ranch comes first right now, no matter how much Austin means to me.
My brother’s arguing with one of the mamas when I get there, shining the headlights of my pickup into the barn’s open doors like Jameson did. “I’m not taking her far, goddamn you, calm down!”
“Last I knew, cows didn’t take English classes. She doesn’t understand a damn thing you’re saying,” I bellow over her mooing, quickly offering a second set of hands to calm the cow so my brother can focus on carrying the writhing calf to the tack room, where I imagine he’s already set up a kerosene space heater.
“Shut the fuck up and get the next one,” Jameson grumbles.
We need an extra set of hands. There are about twenty-five calves in this barn, all born within the last seventy-two hours and needing warmth. Jameson can’t leave a days-old calf alone in a tiny room with a gas heater. Usually, calves this young instinctively freeze and try to make themselves smaller when they’re separated from their mama, but on the off-chance they do the opposite and knock over the heater, we’ll have a whole new issue.
It’s times like these I resent the hell out of Colt. There’s no reason I should have to pull our twenty-year-old neighbor out of bed at two in the morning to deal with an emergency on a ranch that’s not even his. If Colt was here instead of off risking his life on the back of a bull each night, I wouldn’t have to.
“We need another set of hands. Did you already call Tyler?” I call out loud enough that Jameson can hear me in the tack room over the calf’s bleating.
“Not yet, he’s off today! Was trying to avoid it if I could.”
“I’m already here.” Tyler pushes into the barn a second after his voice does, looking around to assess the situation. “Our power’s out, too. Couldn’t get back to sleep and figured I’d come check the calves, just in case. Looks like that was the right call.”
Her eyes flick over my shoulder, brow raising, but she hums. “I’d tell you that you’re too pretty to be ‘sort of’ exclusive with someone, but given how that cowboy’s glaring at me right now, I think it’s safe to assume you’re the one putting on the brakes, not him.”
I purse my lips but don’t respond. She smiles and downs her drink in just a couple of sips before pulling out her wallet. A business card and a couple of dollars land on the bar.
“Don’t know what you’re running from, babe, and I don’t much care since I’m only passing through myself, but just a bit of advice, woman-to-woman,” she says, nearly mocking my earlier words. “A man that looks at his woman like Mr. Cowboy over there is looking at you, is worth standing still for. Text me if you find yourself single again and we’ll hook up the next time I pass through town.”
Her eyes flit over to Maddox again and she smirks while I clench my teeth. “Or, if you need a third…”
“We don’t,” I snap, any attraction I had for the woman washing away at the very idea of her touching Maddox.
She laughs again as she stands from the bar, hooking her purse over her shoulder. The sound grates this time. “I’m not into men, baby. I just think watching the two of you together would be fun. Grain of salt.”
I shove her money between my tits, refusing to watch her walk away just in case she looks back to see if she still has my attention.
“Did you want anything to drink, or were you just here to glare at the other patrons all night?” I snap at Maddox when I make my way back over to him.
“Didn’t know you were into women,” he says, clearing his throat after. I’ve been a ticking time bomb the past couple of days, and now I’m fresh from Sky’s assumptions and my embarrassment over how possessive I’d gotten of Maddox. It makes me assume the worst intentions.
“Yup.” I pop the p. “You know where the door is if you’ve got an issue with it.” I reach under the bar and pull a bottle of Coors from it, using the edge of the bar to get the top off. I’ve never wanted to down a customer’s beer as bad as I want to down Maddox’s, but Pat’s here and he’d love nothing more than to rat on me to Dale. Dale wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but I’d rather save him the headache.
Like Maddox can tell where my thoughts are, he leans over the bar and snatches it from me. “Fix your attitude or I’ll fix it over my lap tonight, Tex. I don’t have an issue with you being into women. I’ve got an issue with anyone putting their hands on you, though.”
His warning thrills me. He hasn’t spanked me, not seriously, since our first night together. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling so keyed up. Maybe ‘letting it ride’ wasn’t the right choice.
“She wanted to do a lot more than put her hands on me, Maddie,” I tell him, mixing another Old Fashioned for Pat, whose glass is getting low. He hasn’t flagged me down for one yet, but that’s only because he’s got his eyes glued to one of the TVs and hasn’t realized he’s nearly out.
“She wanted to eat my pussy,” I tease.
“I’m sure she did,” he says, watching me a bit too closely. “Point out one person in here that doesn’t.”
I walk Pat his drink, and he grunts his thanks, completely missing that I’ve bent forward intentionally so that he could get a peek down my shirt.
“You know, if you need a spanking, you can just ask for one,” Maddox says when I get close enough again. “Most of the time, I’ll let you have it. You don’t have to rile me up like this.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and my heart starts to race. I hate how quick I am to anger. It reminds me I’m my father’s daughter. But I’m also getting really, really tired of people calling me out tonight.
“Fuck a brat and you’re gonna get bratty behavior, Maddox. I don’t know what to tell you. Besides, I don’t need a spanking. I’m not a fucking submissive and you need to stop trying to make me into one. I can enjoy being manhandled a bit without becoming your little sex slave.”
His jaw clenches and it’s like there’s a neon sign in my head flashing Danger! but instead of a warning, it feels like a promise. Like I’ve riled Maddox up enough to get what I want from him.
As quickly as it comes, he smoothes it away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” It feels like getting stuck at the top of a roller coaster, like being right there on the edge of an orgasm but pulling your hand away.
His eyes stick to mine. It’s too quiet for my liking, especially in such a loud bar. Chase approaches down the bar and waves me over. I get him another beer and then try to stay busy the rest of the night.
Maddox stays until close, but we don’t talk anymore. He watches the game and nurses his beer while I drown in my thoughts. He’s right, of course. I could just ask for a spanking, but I didn’t really want to admit that I needed one because it scared me to consider what that may say about me.
A woman who’s frequently abused by her father shouldn’t want a man to hit her, shouldn’t need it. I wasn’t stupid. I knew there was a huge difference between Dad’s abuse and Maddox’s spankings. Dad hit me to belittle me, to steal my power away and control me. Maddox’s spankings were a product of trust and consent.
It wasn’t necessarily the pain I was seeking from him, but more the release that came from it. If I could pretend I put up a fight and he subdued me, I didn’t have to come to terms with the fact that I was submitting—willingly giving control to a man when all my life had ever been was a man taking control of me.
It felt stupid to seek it out, to hand over control to Maddox after what Dad put me through. I should be running the other way. I should be fighting it. So I do.
I shout out for last call and head over to Maddox, intending to tell him it’s time for him to go, but he cuts me off before I can even open my mouth.
“Submission isn’t about being a sex slave, and I know you know that. I know you just said it to piss me off and I’m trying really hard not to jump to conclusions about that.”
He pauses and I swallow because he’s terrifying me. I thought he’d just been sitting here all night ignoring me, but he’d been thinking. If he got too close to the truth of things, I didn’t know what I’d do.
“If a spanking is what you’re needing, from now on, you’re going to need to come out and say it bluntly. I’m not humoring this mindset you seem to have that angering me will cause me to punish you. You’re right that there’s a difference between enjoying rough sex and being a submissive. If you’re not one, that’s fine, but don’t stand there and tell me these barbs you’re throwing out are just your typical brattiness.”
Maddox doesn’t ask me if I understand or anything else a Dom would typically say after delivering a talking-to like the one I just got. I nod anyway.
Instead of the victory and the sore ass I wanted from pissing him off, I’ve only disappointed him. There’s a deep pit in my stomach that makes me feel like a little kid again. He sighs and stands, leaning over the bar to kiss my forehead.
“I’ll be outside.”
We haven’t talked about me spending the weekend with him again, but he doesn’t wait for me to correct him, flipping off the open sign for me as he leaves.
TWENTY-NINE
MADDOX
If Austin were a puppy, her tail would be between her legs as she walks out to my pickup a few seconds after the lights go out in the bar. She’s pulled sweatpants and a jacket over her clothes, so I get out and lean back against the grill instead of insisting we talk in the cab of the truck.
I want to open my arms for her, let her know she can always find her refuge there when the world gets too heavy, but I’m the one who made it heavy this time.
It scares me to think about Austin trying to piss me off, hoping to be punished for it, connecting those two things like that. There’s a difference, like I told her, between bratting and what she was doing. Bratting is innocent shit. Flirting with Pat was bratting. Calling me old was bratting.
The past few days, she’s been a bit more bratty than usual and I’ve just been biding my time, hoping she’d come right out and ask for what she wanted. I realized today she may not know that’s an option, but when I told her and she turned mean, my mind wandered.
Pieces of the puzzle were clicking together. I remembered our first conversation on the phone. How quick she’d been to talk shit about men and how I’d hung up with this certainty that Austin had been hurt before. I’d figured then that it was a heartbreak or something emotional, but now I’m worried a man had hurt her physically. There’s not a single part of me that isn’t murderous at the thought.
She seemed to connect anger to pain, acting out to getting hit. Consensual spankings were different from physical abuse and she knew that, but I think her mind might connect the two anyway—in a cause-and-effect sort of way.
“Do you want to come back to mine tonight?” I ask her when she’s close enough.
She pulls her jacket tighter around her and I curl my fingers into fists so I don’t reach out for her. I second-guess every single thing I do, terrified there’s gonna be a day she leaves and I never see her again. That she doesn’t even say goodbye.
“Not if you’re still mad at me.” She’s not even looking at me. I barely even hear her over the quiet hum of my engine.
I sigh and give up on holding myself back, tugging her against my chest before she can fight it. “I’m not mad at you, Tex. I just wish you’d realize that these walls you keep throwing up between us are pointless. Whatever this is, whether you’re here for a long time or just a good time, pushing me away makes it harder on both of us.”
Austin doesn’t say anything so I lead her over to her pickup. When she gets behind the wheel, I close the door behind her and climb into mine, following her out of the lot. My grasp on the wheel is tight, and I don’t even bother with turning the radio up, too focused on praying she turns towards the ranch instead of us going our separate ways.
She does, stopping her truck in front of the closed gate. I pull in behind her and jump out to open it for the both of us, appreciating that she’s learned me well enough to know to stay put.
We pull up in front of my cabin and I swear under my breath when I see the lights still on at Mama’s. I hope Austin doesn’t notice the silhouette spying through the kitchen window as we drive past. I’m surprised Mama hasn’t already gotten on my case about Austin staying here the past couple of weekends, but gift horse and all that.
Inside, Austin undresses like she’s some terrified bride on her wedding night, so I don’t make a show of appreciating her body, even though I do. I pull my jeans and tee shirt off, tossing them on the chair in the corner and heading to the bathroom.
Austin follows shortly after, wrapping her arms around me from behind while I’m brushing my teeth. The coldness of her piercings against my back makes me shiver. She presses a kiss to my shoulder blade as an apology and I watch in the mirror as her hand creeps down my abs to play with the waistband of my boxer briefs. I grab it, threading our fingers together on my stomach while I keep brushing with the other hand. She pokes her head around my arm to catch my gaze in the mirror.
When I spit and rinse off my toothbrush, I turn and pull her around to give her another hug. She’s completely naked. “You want a shirt to sleep in, or would you prefer to sleep like that?”
Her brows furrow. I know she expects sex. I’m sure, in her mind, it’ll put us back on equal footing. But as gorgeous as she is right now, the last thing I want to do is fuck her.
“I want a spanking,” she admits quietly and pride surges through me at her bravery, despite the insecurity in her eyes. I hold her face in my hands, running my thumbs over her cheekbones. It’s intimate, but I have a feeling she’s going to want to leave in a minute.
“Good girl,” I say gently, not sure if it’s welcome. She’d said I was trying to force her into a submissive role, one she didn’t feel she fit in. I didn’t think I was, but it wasn’t really up to me to disagree with how she feels. “But not tonight.”
She stiffens and then pulls out of my arms, shoving at my chest. The betrayal in her eyes makes my chest ache. I know she’s thinking I’ve tricked her into being vulnerable, into asking for help just so I could turn her down, but that isn’t it at all.
I grab her chin to make her listen to me. “I didn’t say no. I said not tonight. If you still want a spanking in the morning, I’ll give it to you. Tonight, we’re both in a shitty headspace, and I refuse to punish you when I can’t be completely present.”
“It’s not a punishment. It’s a funishment,” she argues, huffing as she crosses her arms over her chest, hiding her nakedness from me.
“Thems the rules,” I say lightly, pinching her ass to make her yelp and diffuse some of this tension. “Guess you’ll have to stay through the night to get what you want, won’t you? Now, do you want a shirt to sleep in, or would you prefer to sleep naked?”
She glares at me, but I’m not going back on this. I flip off the bathroom light and leave her standing there in the dark, already headed to my dresser because I’m pretty sure I know what she’ll choose. Her body is her weapon, but I’ve taken away her ability to weaponize it tonight, so I’d imagine…
“A shirt.”
I do my best to hide my smile.
A shrill ringing jolts me awake and Austin flinching against my chest has me wrapping my arm around her tighter. We’d gone to sleep on different sides of the bed, but I always woke up with her clinging to me. It was usually a guaranteed way to start my morning off on the right foot.
She groans against my chest when she realizes it’s my phone. “Sorry, baby.” My apology means fuck-all, apparently, because she pulls away from me to the other side of the bed again, pulling the pillow over her head even though I’ve already silenced the phone.
“‘Lo?”
“Sorry, bro. I know your girl’s over, but the power’s out and the barn generator didn’t start. Calves are getting cold.”
“Shit!” I’m out of bed like a rocket, holding my phone between my ear and shoulder as I grab my jeans and start tugging them up my legs. “I’ll be there in a minute. Any idea why it didn’t start? How long’s the power been out?”
I pull the phone away to tug my shirt over my head like I didn’t just ask him a question I needed to hear the answer to. Austin sits up in bed, blinking blearily.
“—went offline about an hour ago, so that’d be my guess. Think the fuel line has gummed up—fuck!” I jerk the phone away from my ear. “Sorry, man. Just get here.”
The call ends and I stupidly try to flip on the lamp by my bed so I can get the flashlights out of my nightstand. It takes me a few tries before I realize what an idiot I am.
“What’s the matter?”
“Power’s out. I’ll turn the fireplace on before I leave, but I’ve gotta go get the generator started up and make sure the calves don’t get too cold. It’ll probably take the rest of the night. I’m sorry, baby.”
I find the flashlight blind and shove it in my back pocket just in time to see the silhouette of her slipping out of bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home,” she says through a yawn. The bed jostles slightly as she bumps into it. “You’ve got work to do. Figured—”
“Figured wrong,” I cut her off, snatching her sweatpants off the floor and tossing them on the bed. She’ll need them to stay warm, but she’s not putting them on to leave. “I want you to lay your pretty self back in my bed and go back to sleep, so when I get done with what I’m sure is gonna be a miserable morning, I know I’ve got you here waiting for me as my reward.”
“But—”
I press a kiss to her lips. “Bed. I don’t have time to fight with you, Tex. Calves are getting cold and Jamie’s waiting. I’ll have my phone. Be a good girl for me.”
Leaving without making sure she’s gonna obey me is hard, but the ranch comes first right now, no matter how much Austin means to me.
My brother’s arguing with one of the mamas when I get there, shining the headlights of my pickup into the barn’s open doors like Jameson did. “I’m not taking her far, goddamn you, calm down!”
“Last I knew, cows didn’t take English classes. She doesn’t understand a damn thing you’re saying,” I bellow over her mooing, quickly offering a second set of hands to calm the cow so my brother can focus on carrying the writhing calf to the tack room, where I imagine he’s already set up a kerosene space heater.
“Shut the fuck up and get the next one,” Jameson grumbles.
We need an extra set of hands. There are about twenty-five calves in this barn, all born within the last seventy-two hours and needing warmth. Jameson can’t leave a days-old calf alone in a tiny room with a gas heater. Usually, calves this young instinctively freeze and try to make themselves smaller when they’re separated from their mama, but on the off-chance they do the opposite and knock over the heater, we’ll have a whole new issue.
It’s times like these I resent the hell out of Colt. There’s no reason I should have to pull our twenty-year-old neighbor out of bed at two in the morning to deal with an emergency on a ranch that’s not even his. If Colt was here instead of off risking his life on the back of a bull each night, I wouldn’t have to.
“We need another set of hands. Did you already call Tyler?” I call out loud enough that Jameson can hear me in the tack room over the calf’s bleating.
“Not yet, he’s off today! Was trying to avoid it if I could.”
“I’m already here.” Tyler pushes into the barn a second after his voice does, looking around to assess the situation. “Our power’s out, too. Couldn’t get back to sleep and figured I’d come check the calves, just in case. Looks like that was the right call.”
