Bite the Bullet (12 page)

Oh, he was well dressed, in a dark green shirt and tight black jeans. His black hair carefully combed. Clean shaven, the scent of his aftershave tickling her nostrils. But his eyes were bloodshot, and his face looked as if he’d just faced the fires of the damned.

She wet her lips and stepped back. “Come in. Please.”

Then he was in her space, so close to her she could feel the masculine heat rolling off him in waves.

“I apologize for barging in like this without calling first.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “But I’m guessing Katie felt compelled to give you a little warning. No problem.”

She took a step back. “I have no idea what this is all about, but you look as if you could use a drink.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ve made a big enough dent in the liquor supply already this week. But I’ll take coffee if you’ve got it.”

She nodded. “I just made a fresh pot.”

He followed her into the kitchen, standing close while she filled two mugs. When she handed his to him, she gave him a direct look. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me what’s going on because I haven’t a clue. We had our one evening, although if you remember, it was supposed to be an all-nighter, and I thought it played out to satisfaction for both of us.”

She was extremely proud of the fact that neither her voice nor her hand shook.

He made a sound of frustration. “I did, too. It’s just that…”

When he didn’t go on, she said, “Look, Clint. If you think I’m expecting something more from you, let me set your mind at ease. Nothing could be further from my mind.”

He took a sip of his coffee and set the mug on the counter.

“That’s too bad, because it’s definitely on my mind.”

She tried to slow her suddenly racing pulse. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m doing this very badly.” He picked up his coffee, took another swallow, set it back down, and began to pace.

“Listen. Here’s the thing. I didn’t expect this to happen. You have to know that. Didn’t want it. Wasn’t prepared for it. At all.”

Montana sipped at her own coffee, glad for something to do with her hands, to distract her from the tension gripping her.

“Expect what?” she asked at last.

“This. Our connection.” Clint came to a stop directly in front of her, his eyes blazing. “It’s there, you know.

This…this…
thing
between us. And I don’t mean sex.”

There was that word again.
Thing
. Was it just that both of them were afraid to put too specific a name on it? They’d have to recognize it for what it was? An emotion so hot it could burn them both?

She cleared her throat. “Clint. Listen.”

“No.” He held up a hand, still pacing. “Let me get this all out because it’s taken me the last four hours to work up the guts to spill it.”

“Okay.” She edged herself into a chair at the table and took a swallow of her coffee, her gaze focused on his body, jittery with nerves and leashed energy.

“No one around here knows about this, except the Hallidays. When I tell you what it is, you’ll understand why.”

He stopped and stared out the bay window, looking into the black night outside. “Before I came here to partner with Clint in Rawhide, I’d been in a long term relationship with a Mistress. To the point where I was ready to ask her to make it permanent.”

Montana felt something pinch her heart. Was he going to tell her he was still in love with this woman? That there could never be anything more than the one aborted evening they’d agreed on because of it? She forced herself to sit quietly while he gathered himself.

“Before I could even get the words out, she told me she was leaving me.” He paused and his entire body tightened.

“For another woman.”

Holy shit!

This was the last thing she expected.

“It made me question my masculinity, that a woman could satisfy her better than I could. I tried suppressing my submissive nature, but that didn’t work out too well. So I made the decision to keep it to myself, join a club away from San Antonio when I wanted a session, and never get emotionally involved with anyone ever again.”

“I can understand that.” She was proud of herself for keeping her voice so level and even. “I promise you I don’t expect—”

He spun around. “I’m not finished.”

The force of his words was almost like a physical blow.

“Oh.” She stared at him.

“Then I met you, and it seemed all my good intentions went straight to hell. Which is certainly where I felt like I’d landed.” He strode over to her, his long legs eating up the distance. His hands cradled her cheeks. “You touched me, and my heart cracked into a million pieces. Damn it, I tried to stay away from you, but it was like trying to kick a drug you hadn’t even tasted.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Me, too.”

But he went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “When we had dinner at the Hallidays, just being with you and not touching you, not…anything took every ounce of self-control I had.

When you invited me in that night, I thought to myself I was getting in over my head but I didn’t care. And what we did proved it. I spent the next week counting the hours until I could be with you again.”

He dropped his hands but didn’t move away. “I’ve been with a lot of Mistresses who aroused me the way you did, but with you it was special, because of the way I felt. I wanted more. I wanted it all.”

“Me, too.” Her voice was still so soft she didn’t even know if her words registered.

“And after last Sunday night, I was lost. I was afraid to put myself through the same emotional pain again, but I wanted you…” He lifted his hands. Dropped them. “Wanted you.”

Montana rose from her chair, which put her so close to Clint she could feel his breath on her skin. “I know you’re aware that I’m divorced,” she said. “But what you don’t know is, the bastard cheated on me with nearly every buckle bunny at every rodeo. I finally threw him out, but I vowed never to let another man get close enough to hurt me like that.”

His eyes widened. “Montana—”

“Shh.” She touched his lips with two fingers. “Dusty was a natural sub who thought it was cute to pick up the ladies and let them play at domination with him. So I know exactly where you’re coming from. For a long time, I felt as if I couldn’t offer a man enough to hold onto him.”

She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips over his. But when he tried to put his arms around her, take it deeper, she moved back a step.

“I think we need to take a chance here, Clint. I want to. I hope you do, too, because I think we’re on the brink of something really special.” She paused. “What do you think?”

He took so long to answer, she was afraid he’d just tell her flat out no and walk away. But then very slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor. Next came his boots and jeans. The boxers fell last. And when he was completely naked, he knelt in front of her, head bowed in the classic submissive pose.

“My Mistress would honor me if she accepted me as her sub on a permanent basis. I would serve her faithfully and happily.”

Montana’s heart lurched, then began to beat in triple time.

She knew the value of the gift he was offering. His trust. And his heart.

She took a moment to pull herself together before putting two fingers beneath his chin and lifting his face to hers. She stared at him, this man who was so masculine, so strong, so totally sensual that she could hardly imagine her good fortune.

“I think we need to move this into the bedroom, which is a lot more comfortable. I’m going to stretch you out on the bed and explore every single inch of your body. Inside and out.”

She bent and put her lips next to his ear. “I have so many things to bring you pleasure I don’t know where to start first.”

“It would be my honor to pleasure
you
, Mistress.”

She laughed, a soft, husky sound. “Oh, you’ll do that. I promise you. And Clint?”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“I think it will probably take at least the next forty or fifty years to be totally satisfied. What do you think?”

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “May I have permission to rise?”

She swallowed a smile, tried to still the quivering in her belly. “Of course.”

He rose gracefully and threaded his fingers through her hair. “I can get with that plan.”

He kissed her, so hard and deep and erotically her head swam. He coaxed her tongue to dance with his and licked every slick surface of her mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, not to push him away but to hold on to him. When he finally broke the kiss, his gaze locked with hers.

“I never thought I’d say this to another woman, Montana, but…I…I love you.” The words sounded as if he’d dragged them up from a deep pit.

“I…love you, too.” She waited for the terror of the admission to hit, but all she felt was warmth spreading through her body.

“Take me into your bedroom. Now. Let me ride that hard edge of pleasure/pain. Feel your fingers on me. Inside me.

Let me pleasure you with my mouth. My hands. My cock.”

Montana smiled. “You want to belong to me?

“Yes. I am yours, Mistress,” he told her in a solemn voice, then smiled. “I’ll bite the bullet for you forever.”

“Forever,” she echoed with an answering smile.

And knew that was the right word for them.

Forever.

About the Author

Desiree Holt’s writing is flavored with the rich experiences of her life, including a long stretch in the music business representing every kind of artist from country singer to heavy metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her own public relations agency handling any client that interested her, many of whom might recognize themselves in the pages of her stories. She is twice a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of two Holt Medallion Awards of Merit, and is published by five different houses.

Romance Junkies said of her work: “Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.”

You can find her at

www.desireeholt.com

www.desireeholttellsall.com

www.facebook.com/desireeholt

Twitter @desireeholt.com

To chat with Desiree Holt and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.

Also Available

* * * *

Slapping Leather

by

Desiree Holt

Liz Gillibrand wants a man she can submit to in the bedroom but still keep her sex life a secret from the conservative ranching community. When she discovers her neighbor owns Rawhide, a private bondage club, she might have found the answer. But the first Dom she meets is Alex Wright, a man she’s already connected with physically and emotionally. Once before she tried to merge her private life with the lifestyle but with disastrous results. Can Alex be the one to finally free her from the past and give her the life she longs for?

“I told her I’d be coming out to watch her now and then. I hope that’s all right.”

Coming here? This walking sex machine? She’d need plenty of ice water just to be within ten feet of him. Or maybe it was just that she’d been without sex for so long—by design—that her hormones were running wild. Either way, she’d need to watch herself around Mr. Sex-on-the-Hoof.

“Of course. We encourage family support, as a matter of fact.” She waited for him to climb back into the truck, but he just stood there, that hot gaze raking over her. “Was there something else?”

“Sure is. I was wondering if I could talk you into having dinner with me.”

Dinner? With a man? With this man? Liz wasn’t sure she’d even know how to act anymore. For one thing, when she’d taken over here, she’d put her sex life on hold. She couldn’t afford to have the men here actually see her as a woman. For another, she didn’t exactly have the best track record.

“Liz?” Alex’s voice broke into internal conversation. “I didn’t think it was such a difficult question.” He chuckled, a sound that hit every one of her nerve endings. “Or that I was so offensive I left you speechless.”

She shook herself mentally. “Sorry. Actually, sorry twice.

Once for letting my mind drift and again for saying no. But thanks anyway.”

He reached out a hand and brushed a few stray hairs off her cheek. “You do have to eat, don’t you?”

Oh, god, his touch. She was going to embarrass herself by melting into him. She, Liz Gillibrand, the woman they all called Iron Pants. The woman who held a secret close inside her. No, no, no. She needed to get Alex Wright on his way in a hurry.

“I…uh…usually just grab a quick bite whenever I’m finished out here.” She took two steps backward. “Listen, thanks so much for delivering Jester. I’ll see you when you come to watch Trish.”

“I’m not giving up on my invitation,” Alex called as he climbed into the truck. “Someplace real nice. You can wear a dress.”

A dress. Just what she needed. No one within fifty miles of here was ever going to see her soft side again. Nope. Not gonna happen.

She watched him make a wide, careful turn in the broad gravel parking area and head down the long driveway to the two-lane highway. Dinner with Alex Wright was such a temptation. The problem wasn’t with dating. Dating led to sex, and Liz was sure her brand of sex wouldn’t go over here at all. She could just see Alex “Yummy” Wright head for the hills if she asked him to cuff her to the bed or bend her over the footboard and crop her.

No, she had to go far afield for her sexual pleasures. The last thing she needed was for word to get out to the men who worked for her that she was a true sexual submissive. She’d never get control of them again. Not to mention the fact that the Lucky L would probably lose most of its clients.

Conservative people frowned on anything the least bit kinky.

She’d found that out a long time ago, before she’d come to work for John. And she still remembered the hurt.