Rode Hard, Put Up Wet (Rough Riders #2)(58)

“Although, I think it would’ve killed Dad to have a gay son. I’m pretty sure he developed an ulcer when I switched my major from ag to art. My brothers joked about it—until I told them how much I get paid for a sculpture.”


“Carter.”


“But it’s feast or famine in the art world. I could bomb and be broke as easily as I could be touted as the next best thing.”


“McKay.”


“I just don’t know how this show’ll go over. It’s a mix of styles. There’s some pressure from my agent and I need it to do well financially so I’ll have options. The thought of spongin’ off my folks indefinitely…Don’t get me wrong. I love them. I love the rest of my family and where I grew up.” He brooded and fiddled with his utensil.


Thinking about this stuff made him crazy. “I don’t want to go far, Wyoming is in my blood, but there’s no place for me on the home place if I’m not ranchin’. I’ve always been a bit of a loner and it appeals to me to be on my own. Even if no one understands.”


“Carter. Shut up.”


He froze again. Had he been yappin’ like an unwanted dog? He shot her a covert glance.


And lust kicked him right in the balls.


“Macie. Darlin’, don’t look at me like that. We’re supposed to be hangin’ out.


Talkin’. Actin’ like a normal couple.”


“Fuck being normal. I’d rather have you f*cking me.” She lunged across the table.


The pie plates skidded and crashed to the floor. He barely caught the can of whipped cream before it rolled off the table.


Macie smashed her mouth to his and he fell into heaven.


Yeah. Fuck normal.


He scooted from the bench and took the four short steps to the bedroom with her clinging to him like a vine. Kissing her. Lord. It’d been a lifetime since he’d kissed her.


They half-landed on the bed. She ripped open his shirt and scraped her nails down his torso to his belt buckle.


Buttons flew as he tugged on the lapels of her pajama top.


“Hurry. Did you bring condoms?”


He didn’t answer. He’d seem like a selfish prick whether he said yes or no. Add in the tiny bottle of lube…


No use hiding them now. He tossed the whole shootin’ match by the pile of floral pillows.


Macie demanded, “Lose the jeans.”


Why was she always in such a damn hurry? He still had his boots on. She jammed her hands in his boxers and grabbed his dick. “Hey, hey. Let’s start at the bottom and work our way up. I gotta get rid of these shitkickers.”


“I don’t care if you leave the damn boots on as long as the damn pants come off.


Now.” Macie pulled his lips to hers as her fingers worked his Wranglers down his legs.


Carter realized the rut they’d fallen into wasn’t entirely his fault. In fact, she’d taken the lead when it came to sex in the last few weeks. She’d decided where (his place usually) and when (right after work) and how long (only long enough for both of them to get off).


Well, he was taking charge tonight. Taking what she’d promised him. Taking what would be his alone.


Screw romance. She’d had him tied up in knots for weeks. It was time for him to return the favor.


He gradually broke the frantic kiss. “Not so fast. There ain’t room in here for both of us to strip. Get naked. I’ll be right back.”


“Hurry.”


While Carter doffed his clothes, his gaze swept the kitchen/living area for an item he could use. He spied the frayed nylon rope poking out of Cash’s rigging bag.


Perfect. Tied up. Heh heh.


He grabbed the rope and the can of whipped cream.


Chapter Twenty-three


“You ready?” Carter asked.


“Ready, willing and able, cowboy, come on in.”


“Remember you said that, darlin’.” He set the can on the floor out of sight, but let the rope dangle in his hand as he stepped in front of her. His gaze took her in; she was stunning. Macie lay sideways on the bed, her head propped on her palm. Her glossy mahogany hair pooled on the white sheet by her shoulder. The sexy position emphasized the feminine bend in her waist, the womanly curves of her hip and belly. The tips of her breasts were hardened and her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. Her eyes.


Man. Her eyes were black with desire. Until they noticed the item in his hand, then a flash of fear showed.


“What’s that?”


“What’s it look like?”



“A rope.”


“You’d be right. Stretch out across the bed and put your wrists together above your head.”


“Why?”


“Because I said so.”


“I thought we were beyond games, Carter.”


“You thought wrong.”


“But—”


“Don’t argue with me. Just do it.”


“Or what?”