Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(27)

for her. Layla had sworn she hadn’t seen Angel leave. When he pressed for more

information, Murphy stepped in, reminding him of the club rules. He’d managed not to

snap, f*ck the club rules, which would’ve gotten him thrown out on his ass and banned

for the weekend.


He’d nursed a beer, watching dispassionately as two of his sometime playmates ended up

with Trace and Riley. Then he’d headed to Cody’s place and crashed.


Ben figured it made him a fool, waving off a constant stream of subs tonight, as he

waited for Angel to show up. The woman flat out fascinated him. Her boldness in lying

about her Domme designation. Her wide-eyed reaction to the scenes she’d witnessed.

Followed by her moments of true Domme-like behavior. The way she jacked him off and

made him clean himself up. Her insistence he put his clothes back on when he so

obviously wanted to f*ck her.


But what really tripped him over the edge for her? Her genuine surprise at her body’s

response to him. Allowing her to believe she’d been in control last night told him

exactly what he’d suspected: she was submissive to the core.


She’d be a challenge. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d been challenged by a

woman, inside or outside the club. His last three regular playmates hadn’t posed any

challenge.


Zoe had been a trial.


Ali had been too eager to please, a lifestyle sub in training.


Lorena had needed submission as therapy; they’d mostly talked.


He considered his one-nighters a fun way to pass the evening. A little bondage, a

little practice with his toys, a chance to hone his skills with a whip, flogger, cane

and crop.


Talk about clinical. And cynical. Now he remembered why he’d stayed away from the

Rawhide in the last month. He needed to shake off his attitude. But if Angel didn’t

show up tonight, he wouldn’t stick around.


Ben looked around the room at the tables of couples, some already in play roles, some

still negotiating. Sully, sans his usual lawyerly suit, was propped against the wall in

overseer mode. Neither Cody nor Trace was around. Gil was behind the bar.


His gaze scanned the crowd. He froze when he spotted Angel, watching him from a corner

table. How long had she been there?


She studied him for several long minutes. Then she stood, gracefully slipping from her

chair. She started across the room. Stopped halfway. The distance between them seemed

to increase with his every heartbeat.


It was damn difficult not to swoop her up and carry her off, but he waited for her to

come to him.


He didn’t bother to hide his grin when she threw back her shoulders, lifted her chin

and strode forward.


Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard.


Angel slid into the seat across from his. “Hello, Bennett.”


“You came.” Smooth, McKay.


“I said I would. I’ve been here awhile. Watching you.”


“See anything interesting?”


She cocked her head. “Besides the dozen women who approached you? I was waiting for

one of them to drop down and lick your boots.”


“Wouldn’t have mattered if one of them had.”


“Why not?”