Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(125)

Ainsley moved close enough to brush woodchips from his shirt. “I am sorry I assumed it

was okay to barge in here.”


“Ainsley—”


“Let me finish. The last thing I intended was to add more stress to your day.” Her

fingertips whisked away more shavings. “Here’s the truth, Ben. I missed you. Not

Bennett. Not who you are as a Dom, but you.” She nuzzled the side of his face. “Thank

you for stopping by last night. It was totally unexpected. Completely amazing. And

exactly what I…needed. I never understood how much I need to access that submissive

part of myself until you showed me how good it could be.”


The red splotches on her cheeks indicated how hard that’d been for her to admit. It

touched him. And flustered him because she was beginning to mean a whole lot more to

him than he’d ever imagined. “I don’t know what to say to that.”


“Say, I’m happy to see you too, angel.”


Ben tugged her between his knees and reached up to frame her face in his hands. “I’m

happy to see you too, angel.” This woman constantly surprised him. This woman seemed

to get him. All sides of him. And that was almost too much to hope for.


She broke the kiss. “Mmm. I needed that too. Tell you what. Why don’t we switch roles

tonight? I’ll wrassle the dogs and then whip up something for dinner. You can come

inside when you’re done out here. So, if you play your cards right and are suitably

submissive to me, I’ll wrassle you and whip you too.”


“And what will you be doin’ while you’re waiting on me to hit a creative rut?”


“I brought my e-reader to keep me occupied.”


“Some of them naughty books?”


She smirked. “You know it.”


Damn. That was sexy as all get out, imagining her getting all wet and squirmy. “Don’t

be touching yourself if you get to a hot part, understand?” he half-growled.


“And there he is,” she murmured, “the beastly Dom.”


Ben clamped his hands on her ass and jerked her forward. “The beastly Dom never left,

angel. I just tone him down when I’m carving.”


“Why?”


“He can be a controlling dick.”


She laughed. “As I well know.”


He smacked her ass.


“Seriously, though, when you’re ready, I’d love to hear more about Ben McKay, master

wood carver. I’d love to see the beautiful things these wonderful hands create.”


That wasn’t a bullshit, throw-away comment. Her genuine interest in yet another side

of him was strangely humbling. “Thank you.”


“For what? Because I haven’t cooked dinner yet and it might be inedible.”


He smiled. “I doubt that. Thank you for—” being exactly what I needed tonight, “—

barging in.”


“You’re always pushing my boundaries, it’s only fair I push yours right back.”


“That’s probably true. But as far as us switching roles tonight?” He grinned. “No

chance.”


Christ. He’d made her cry. All he’d done was give her a piece he’d carved last year.