Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(82)

Ainsley’s * squeezed his cock as seed shot out of his shaft.


Ben’s eyes rolled back in his head. He blanked out as her sex milked him of any

thought processes. Zoned out, done in, checked out.


Sweet nuzzling on the side of his face roused him. “Bennett.”


“Mmm?”


“I like the cuffs.”


He laughed and kissed his favorite spot on her throat.


“And thank you for easing me into this Dom/sub thing.”


Ben looked at her. “A forced blowjob and me handcuffing you during sex is…easing you

into it?”


She nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, your aggressive side really does it for me. Like

when you tied me to the bench at the club. But I like this closeness too. It almost

felt…like it was more than sex.”


Instead of admitting, for me too, he said gruffly, “Bend your knees.” He helped her

stand, removed the cuffs and checked the circulation in her arms before hitting the

john to ditch the condom. When he returned to the kitchen, Ainsley was dressed.


“Leaving?”


“I need to get my beauty sleep. Don’t you know bankers’ hours are brutal?”


He laughed.


“Have a safe trip to Rapid City tomorrow and I’ll see you Friday after work.”


Ben walked her out to her car, ignoring her protests that she wasn’t afraid of the

dark.


As he watched her drive away he knew he’d have to push her next time. Break down some

of those barriers. Even when he understood it’d cause some of his walls to crumble a

little too.


Chapter Fourteen


The doorbell rang and Ainsley set the bottle of Pinot Grigio alongside the two

wineglasses on the kitchen counter.


As soon as she answered the door, Layla squeezed Ainsley in a big hug. “It’s so great

to have you living so close.”


“I’ll admit your phone call this morning surprised me.”


“Because I invited myself over? We don’t live that far apart anymore, so there’s no

excuse for us not to hang out. Besides, we would’ve thought nothing of driving an hour

across Denver to have dinner together.”


“True. Come in.”


The cats observed from the end of the hallway as Layla kicked off her Ugg boots and

draped her parka and scarf over the back of the couch.


“Cute kitties,” Layla cooed, crouching down to hold out her hand. “What are their

names?”


“Wally is the tabby. I found him last spring huddled by a cart return at Wal-Mart.

Poor thing was just a baby. And Charo, the calico, was my animal shelter rescue the

week before. Some sicko kid scorched her tail and cut off one side of her whiskers. But

look at that cute face. I couldn’t resist.”


“Charo. As in she’s been…charred? A, you have a bizarre sense of humor.”


Ainsley poured the wine, handing Layla a glass. “I apologize for the boxes all over

the living room. I haven’t completely unpacked.”


Layla tucked herself into the corner of the loveseat. She ran her hand over the peacock

blue cushion. “This is a stunning sofa. So bright.”