Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(12)

”


Murphy sighed. “She’s not for you.”


“Why not? Has she already picked someone for tonight?”


“Not exactly.”


Ben faced Murphy. “Then exactly what’s the problem?”


A devious smile appeared. “She’s not here as a sub.”


“She’s a guest?” Ben frowned.


“Nope.”


“She’s here as special entertainment?” That’d explain her wacky get-up. Some clubs

in bigger cities had themed nights where members dressed up. Cody and Trace had

threatened to try it at the Rawhide, but Ben secretly didn’t believe that’d fly in

Gillette, Wyoming. Then again, he hadn’t been around to voice his opinion in the last

month.


“No,” Murphy said. “And she’s not here to bartend, waitress or clean the bar.”


Which left one other possibility but Ben couldn’t wrap his head around it. “She’s

here as a…Domme?” After Murphy nodded, Ben’s jaw dropped. “No. Fucking. Way. A

Domme. In the Rawhide.”


“Evidently.”


“And you know she’s had experience as a Domme?”


“Some.”


The woman’s defiant stare-down notwithstanding, Ben demanded, “How much?”


That hard look entered Murphy’s eyes. “I’ve told you as much as I can, Bennett—”

he emphasized Ben’s preferred official club title, “—the rest you’ll have to get

from her. And you know the rules since you had a heavy hand establishing them, so tread

lightly. I have no issue throwing your ass out if you think you’re above the rules.”


As designated club head master, Murphy screened all applicants thoroughly. He kept the

club balanced with the ratio of Doms to subs. He ran the club with an iron fist and a

closed mouth. Which sucked balls right now, because Ben wanted to know everything about

this supposed Domme.


Of course the goddamn rules came back to bite him in the ass the one time he needed to

break one. Besides the first rule—everything that happened in the Rawhide Club was

consensual—and the second rule—complete confidentiality and discretion among all

members inside and outside the club—there was a third rule that stated—the members

who wanted to publicly or privately play decided their own roles within the club:

dominant, submissive or switch. Each designation had its own power and demanded its own

respect.


But then again…the fourth rule—you pay, you play—meant if she came to the club on a

regular night, then she was expected to participate.


Oh hell yeah. He could totally push that rule if it came down to it.


“I don’t like the gleam in your eye,” Murphy half-snarled.


How could Murphy see that? Because Ben couldn’t take his eyes off the intriguing

Angel. Hot damn. The sensual way she moved screamed of a submissive enticing a Dom, not

a confident Domme luring an entranced sub.


“Bennett?” Murphy prompted. “Are you even listening to me?”


“Yep.”


“But?”


Ben drained his beer. “I wanna play with her.” It’d been years since he’d had such