Crack the Whip
The Wild Rose Press
www.thewildrosepress.com
Copyright ©2011 by Desiree Holt
First published in 2011
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CONTENTS
* * * *
Rawhide:
Crack The Whip
by
Desiree Holt
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Rawhide: Crack The Whip
COPYRIGHT (C) 2011 by Desiree Holt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected] Cover Art by
Tamra Westberry
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, April 2011
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
As always, for David,
who will forever be my love
whether here or in heaven.
You always rocked my world.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
Desiree Holt
AND HER BOOKS
“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotic romance author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last. If you’re new to erotica, please check out this wickedly talented author.”
~Romance Junkies
Back in the Saddle
“…quick as lightning setting the tone for a wild ride…the way Desiree Holt wrote Chance’s character and the strong desire to have Molly accept him really made this story one of a kind.”
~Sensual Reads
“…a deeply sensual and emotionally satisfying short story.
Molly and Chance are multi-faceted, well-developed characters…the perfect book for readers who prefer their cowboys with a little extra kink.”
~Whipped Cream
Eight Second Ride
“These two characters each have a need and they were able to find someone who not only shared their desires but someone who they truly liked. Another good story from this author.”
~Seriously Reviewed
“Kick up your feet and make time to read Eight Second Ride, a grab you buy the seat of your pants roller coaster ride until the very end. I enjoyed reading how Kyle tries to breach Jessie’s armor by romancing her, it added another element to an already exciting story.”
~Sensual Reads
The day had been a scorcher, hot enough to blister skin.
Unrelenting sun without a cloud to filter it. Reece Halliday left his dusty boots in the laundry room, stripped off his clothes in his bedroom, and then turned on the shower full blast.
Running a ranch the size of the Golden Spur took a lot of hard work and sweat, from him as well as his brothers. Today they’d been cutting calves from their mothers. It was tiring, dusty work, parching the skin and the mouth. They’d managed to get all of the calves into the south pasture.
Tomorrow would come the bitch work—branding.
But tonight he was going to relax and give himself a treat.
Tuesday nights for some reason were wild and busy at Rawhide. He had already scheduled a session with one of his favorite playmates. With what he had in mind for her, he could more than work out some of the kinks from sitting in the saddle all day.
Kinks. He loved a different meaning of that word. He laughed, wondering what the very conservative ranching community would say if they knew he, the eldest Halliday brother, was the silent owner of a fetish club. And that he indulged in many of the fetish practices himself.
During his senior year in college his roommate’s brother, who lived the lifestyle, had taken the two of them to a very private club and introduced them to the world of bondage and fetishism. Reece had been shocked at the lust roaring through him at the various acts he witnessed. Their host had gotten him a guest card as a pre-graduation present, and it had been the most sexually exciting period of his life.
But once he was back at home, running the ranch with his brothers, without access to the sexual games he liked to play, he found himself irritated and frustrated. And taking a lot of
“business” trips to cities where there were clubs open to the public. But those trips only partially satisfied him. And his brothers began to question all those travels.
He wondered what they’d say if they knew he used his portion of the inheritance from their parents to invest in a club where he could satisfy his sexual appetites. He had done some very careful due diligence to find the right location, the right partner, and the right manager. Rawhide was about to celebrate its second anniversary, and the result, both financial and personal, had exceeded his expectations.
Tonight one of his favorite subs would be there. As he stood in the shower, thinking ahead, his cock hardened and flexed as he anticipated the scenes they would play out in his private room. The ranch was flourishing, the club was thriving, and if he could ask for anything else in his life it would be to find a permanent relationship with a woman whose sexual desires and needs matched his own. A perfect sub with her own identity who could fit into the conservative ranching community here in the Texas Hill Country.
Yeah. Like that would really happen.
So he was…what? Doomed to satisfy his sexual needs in limited doses and marry a woman who thought being on top was the most kink she’d known? Reece sighed. No fucking way. He’d never be able to control himself that much in the bedroom.
Both of his brothers were married and living in their own houses on the ranch, but Reece still lived a bachelor’s life and fended off all their “helpful” comments about settling down.
Well-intentioned, but they irritated the hell out of him.
By the time he reached Rawhide he’d managed to tamp down his exasperation and looked forward to the night ahead.
India, a sub he often played with, knew to come to his private room at exactly eight forty-five. She would strip and wait for him in the pose he preferred—on her knees, hands behind her back, waiting for her collar and handcuffs. Usually he began the session with strokes from his favorite single tail whip. The pattern it laid on bare buttocks was incredibly arousing.
But tonight he looked forward to trying out a new flogger he’d ordered, one with a thick braided handle and strips of the softest leather. Seeing what kind of welts it would leave on her golden skin. Maybe even slide the handle into her pussy and watch her wet, swollen folds close around it.
And then, just to ice the cake, he’d slide a new vibrating dildo into her, turn it on full, and watch her climax while she sucked his cock. Maybe he’d use the candles tonight, too.
Wax always ramped up the arousal factor for both of them.
Reece shifted uncomfortably in his seat, taking a hand off the wheel to adjust slacks suddenly too tight in the crotch.
But first he had business to take care of. Their manager was leaving due to a family emergency, and Clint Chavez, his partner, had searched for a replacement. After whittling down the possibilities to one, tonight Reece would put his stamp of approval on the applicant. Or not.
He knew nothing about the person except she was a female, not so strange for a fetish club. He knew women often made the best managers.
“She’s waiting in my office,” Clint told him when Reece came in through the back door. “She apparently got a job working in a club not too long after she graduated college and has worked her way up through the system.”
Reece cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? Wonder what she majored in to start working the fetish circuit.”
Clint laughed. “She’s got a college degree in business management, and I literally stole her from a top private club in Atlanta. You can ask her yourself why she’s doing this instead of working in the corporate world.”
“What would make her leave? Didn’t they pay her well?”
“More than well.” He shook his head. “She was very honest with me. Although she’s a very strong manager, by nature she is a sexual submissive. She’s just coming out of a long relationship that ended badly and needed a change.”
Reece grunted. “I hope she doesn’t intend to poach on the clients. Not good for our reputation.”
“Don’t worry. She knows the score. She comes highly, and grudgingly, recommended.”
“All right. Let me talk to her, but if you’re sold on her, I’m sure she’s fine. India knows she’s supposed to be waiting for me?”
Clint grinned. “Yeah. What a good little subbie she is, waiting on her knees for you for thirty minutes.”
Reece chuckled. “At least I told her she could use a kneeling pad.”
“Yeah. You’re a damn prince. Okay, let’s go talk to the other lady who’s waiting for you.”
Clint opened the door to his office and gestured to the woman sitting in a chair in front of his desk. Reece was halfway inside before her identity registered with his brain.
When it did, he felt as if he’d just taken a hard punch to the gut.
Thick masses of auburn curls tumbling past her shoulders framed a heart-shaped face. Hazel eyes that seemed to change color even as he looked at her stared back from beneath thick lashes. A very sedate, tailored navy sheath was little camouflage for lush curves. Slim legs were crossed at the knees. Feet encased in navy pumps.
His gaze was drawn again to her face and the full, sensuous lips painted with a soft peach lip gloss. He knew those lips, knew them nearly as well as his own. He’d tasted them often enough in years gone by. As well as the rest of her body. Only then it had belonged to a girl. Now, she was a woman and he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her.
And the sudden explosion of emotion shook him to his core.
The first time he had seen Katie Warren she was the new girl at their high school, three years younger than he was.
That hadn’t stopped him from going after her like a rutting bull. And falling so in love with her he couldn’t think of anything else.
The last time he saw her she was a senior in college and spitting fire, storming out of the motel room they’d rented.
Shocked by the things he wanted her to do and enraged because he was angry with her for turning him down. All their plans up in flames.
Every time he thought about that that long ago night, which was far more frequently than he liked, he realized he could have handled things a lot differently. He’d let his ego and his dick knock his brain aside and regretted it ever since.
Ten years without Katie had left a big hole in his heart and a burning lust that nothing at Rawhide could sate.
Obviously, her outlook had undergone a radical change since that disastrous night. The only thing unchanged was his cock getting hard as a rock the minute he laid eyes on her.
His feet seemed glued to the floor. He thought someone was talking, but he couldn’t be sure because there was a strange buzzing in his ears.
“Reece?” A hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me, buddy?”
Clint’s voice. Okay.
“I think Mr. Halliday might be a trifle surprised to find me here.” Katie’s voice was low and musical and sounded faintly amused.
“You know each other?” Now Clint was the one who was shocked.
Reece shook himself and walked around the desk to sit in Clint’s chair, as much to hide the bulge in his crotch as to take control of the situation. This was a business meeting.
Nothing more. Fine. Except for the tidal wave of lust washing through him. He’d been so sure he was well over Katie Warren. Done and finished. And here she was, in the most impossible of situations for him.
What the hell was he supposed to do so he didn’t look like an ass?
“Nice to see you again, Katie.” He made his voice as steady and uninflected as possible, even as he couldn’t stop remembering the perfection of her body naked in his bed and the warm, welcoming heat of her cunt. An image of her tied to his bed, gagged, nipples distended and clamped, nearly undid him, and he had to fist his hands to pull himself together. Now he knew how junkies felt when they couldn’t feed their cravings.
