Taming His Wild Girl by Lee Savino

Chapter 10

Joel

What the hell was that noise?

I blinked in the darkness of my bedroom, trying to untangle the sound from my sleep.

That terrible, strangled scream tore through the air again.

Isabelle?I jumped up, stumbling across the room.

Then I laughed, and fell back into bed. The dang cockerel from the next-door farm, that’s what it was. I groaned, grabbed my phone, and groaned again. 4.30 a.m. A whole hour before I had to be up. And it was still pitch dark outside. I’d never been woken up by the cockerels before, because I usually slept like a log—at least I did before Isabelle Stevens reappeared in my life. Ever since then, I’d been tossing and turning all night long. Worrying about her. Wondering what was going on behind those intelligent, watchful eyes of hers.

I hoped she was sleeping well now. That scream she’d let out two nights ago was about the worst thing I’d ever heard. It was tortured, full of terror and desolation. I wondered if she still relived the accident. Or if she was remembering the horrors of working for those thugs.

Last night had been something else. Having sex with her, claiming her, had been better than my wildest fantasies. She was every bit the kinky princess I’d always longed for—and more. There was such a need in her to submit, to be punished. Did it all come from a place of darkness? Maybe I would never know. Maybe she didn’t know herself. I only hoped that it was helping her.

I remembered looking at her when she was a teenager, and feeling all that repressed need in her. A need for her body to not be a thing of perfection for once, but free and uninhibited. And I loved that she wasn’t shy about her body. I guessed the strip club had gotten her used to displaying it. But when I’d ordered her to strip for me, she hadn’t hesitated, and I knew the sight of her standing in front of me naked, panties around her ankles, was something I’d never forget.

The feeling of being inside her for the first time… she was so tight around my cock, her sweet face grimacing at first, like I was too much to take. But then, her eyes flooding with pleasure as I sank all the way in. I wanted to give her as much pleasure she could take. To test her limits, and guide her to new levels of ecstasy.

We’d snuggled on the couch for a while, then we ordered pizza and watched a movie together, and she sat close to me. Not snuggled in my arms as I’d hoped, but by my side. I’d assumed we’d sleep together in my bed, and I’d have her right where I wanted her. But she made it clear she was going to sleep alone. I had to respect her wishes, even though every nerve in my body wanted her around me. Wanted to keep her safe. She was as brittle and prickly as shattered glass.

I still thought she was hiding something. I’d hoped talking about the sex thing would have encouraged her to open up to me. And in the moment when she orgasmed, her face was so vulnerable, it startled me. But then she’d shut right down again, keeping me out. She was going to be a hard nut to crack. But I didn’t care. I had all the time in the world for Isabelle.

I threw back my covers and got out of bed. There was no way in hell I was getting back to sleep now. I got started with animals an hour earlier than usual. It would confuse the bejesus out of them, but they could deal with it. Then I’d make us both a nice leisurely breakfast. Usually I liked to treat myself on the weekends. The animals didn’t let me take off weekends, of course, so I always had to see to them, but I usually finished up early and made some time for myself. Then in the afternoons, I’d watch the game with the guys or go play ball. But this weekend, I was going to make Isabelle feel special.

When I passed her room, I paused at the door and listened. I couldn’t hear anything. A burst of panic went through me. I pushed the door handle down and opened the door an inch. At last, I picked up the quiet sound of her breathing, and the sweet smell of her wafted back to me. She was still asleep, thank goodness. I closed the door softly and went through to the kitchen.

I poured fresh coffee into the coffee machine and while it gurgled and hissed, an idea began to form itself in my mind.

* * *

Isabelle

Joel wasin the kitchen when I got up, late again. There had been no bad dreams last night, and I even felt kind of refreshed. An amazing smell of cooking wafted from the stove, and Joel was busy stirring something in a skillet and whistling a Metallica song to himself.

I stood for a moment, taking in his broad back and the low-slung jeans that hid his muscular buns. I still couldn’t believe we’d had sex yesterday. That Joel, the hottest guy in the whole universe, had been inside me, had kissed me, touched me, and told me I was incredible. And that he had this dark side, too, that understood exactly what I needed.

“Hi,” I said shyly, as desire began to weave its way through my body again.

He turned around and grinned, and my heart almost stopped at his ridiculous handsomeness. At the way he looked at me as if I was the only girl in the world.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sorry. I meant to be up earlier.”

He shook his head. “No way. Your number one priority is catching up on sleep. You hear me?” His voice turned stern, but I knew he was kidding.

“Okay,” I murmured. “What’s going on here? Thought you’d be busy with the cows.”

He gave me a crooked smile. “You know what day it is?”

I frowned. “Is it the weekend?” I didn’t really have weekends any more, and the days all blurred into one.

“You bet it is. And you know what that means?”

I shook my head, enjoying the silly game.

“It means we take it easy. We do some work this morning, but we relax in the afternoon. And then this evening, I was thinking we could go out on the town.” He gave me a significant look. “Go dancing.”

“Dancing?” My voice wobbled a bit. The word was a knife in my heart.

“Yeah,” Joel said. I must’ve hid my pain well enough because he continued, “There’s a thing on at the town hall. It’s kind of old school—or ironic, depending on your take on things.” His eyes crinkled as he slowed his voice into an exaggerated drawl. “Some bebop-jive-line-dancing-what-not.”

Despite the barbed wire strangling my chest, I laughed. “You don’t know what it is, do you?”

He shrugged. “Nope, I’ve only got one dance anyway. I bust it out regardless of whatever’s going on in the background.”

He was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help blowing out a breath and returning his grin with a small one of my own. “So this would be dancing,” the word hurt a little less this time, “for fun?”

“Yeah, little one,” his voice softened, “for fun. You remember how to have fun?”

“I’m sure I took a class on it once,” I quipped. “There was a quiz at the end.”

“Is that so?” Joel played along. “Bet you got an A.”

“Of course.”

“You’re an expert then.” He took the skillet off the burner and faced me, his big hands finding and squeezing my shoulders. “I think this will be good for you.”

I looked away, ignoring the way my heart tripped at his touch. “Will there be a lot of people there?” I asked with a flicker of worry.

He shrugged. “Coupla hundred familiar faces. No mafia though.”

“You think I’m paranoid.”

“I do,” he said seriously.

I took some plates out of the cupboards and he filled them with eggs, bacon and home fries, and I brought them to the kitchen table.

“You’re safe now, you know that?”

I look down at my plate, my stomach shrinking.

“Hey,” he sat down at the table and took my hand, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” I said, not wanting to argue. I loved his touch.

“So what do you say?” he asked lightly. “Shall we put on our glad-rags and paint the town red?”

I snorted, knowing he was being dorky to make me laugh. “Okay, yes. But—”

He rolled his eyes. “But you don’t have anything to wear, right? That’s okay. I foresee another trip to the department store this afternoon. Actually…” He loaded up his fork with home fries. “I was thinking we could go to the city tomorrow, get you some better stuff.”

He’d drive me that far, just to get some clothes? My heart gave a silly jump.

“I know this probably seems like Hicksville to you,” he continued before I had time to reply.

I shook my head. “Not at all. It feels like… it feels like home.” The big city had always been about ballet and pressure. The two things were entwined in my mind.

His eyebrows tugged together. “You’ll get sick of it one day.”

“Nuh-uh.”

I started eating fast. It was all delicious. I never would’ve guessed that cooking would be his thing.

“I’ll take you dancing in the city one day.”

I shook my head. “Joel, I’m happy here, trust me.” When I looked up, there was an uncertainty in his eyes that I’d never seen before.

“Okay.” He pushed back his chair and got his feet. Then he jabbed a finger at me and gave me a mock-serious look. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that after tonight’s hoedown.”

While I washed up the breakfast things, I kept turning over his invitation to the dance. Trying to make it fit with his kindness and our kinky sex. It was like the time he took me to the rodeo, I decided. He was that kind of guy. He felt like he needed to show me a good time. I hadn’t danced, really danced, since the accident, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. The stuff I did in the strip club—turning around on a pole—was kind of athletic. But there was no beauty in it.

And I hadn’t danced for the fun of it in my whole life. Maybe when I was real small. My parents had sent me to a few different types of lessons, but as soon as I tried ballet, that was it. They used to love to tell the story of my very first lesson, when my teacher, an elegant older lady who’d once been the prima ballerina of the Paris ballet, watched me and got tears in her eyes. How she’d said that she’d never seen so much raw talent in all her years. I never really believed it. Thought it was one of the things my dad cooked up to motivate me.

But ever since that day, dancing had been serious. All about perfection. Only in the most polished of movements did I find freedom. In rigid control, relief.

Dancing for fun? At a hoedown? I couldn’t picture it. Add in my fears about Anton finding me, and I was a mess. But Joel wanted to go. He was trying to cheer me up.

For him, I’d do my best.

* * *

At seven-thirty that evening,I slunk out of my room in a sleeveless black dress. It was about the only decent thing they’d had at Lowe’s department store, and I had no idea if it was appropriate for a hoedown. Joel had been sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, but at the sight of me, he jumped to his feet.

“Wow.” He came toward me, his voice low and little hoarse. “You look… you look…” He lifted a hand and stroked my hair.

“Not bad, huh?”

He shook his head. “Exactly like it used to be.”

I bit my lip. “You like it better?”

“Hell, yeah.” His nostrils flared. “You look like yourself again.”

I thought so too. Thanks to L’Oreal, my hair was back to its natural deep auburn shade, and I was so relieved. I’d never liked the way I looked as a blonde, but I appreciated the way it allowed me to hide my real self. To forget my real self.

But now, with Joel back in my life, it felt like the right thing to do. And when I looked in the mirror, I saw a glimpse of the girl I used to be.

To my surprise, he dipped his head and kissed me on the lips. It was the first time he’d kissed me today. We’d been together for the whole day, shopping, having coffee in town, having another riding lesson, and I’d been wondering why he wasn’t touching me, ordering me to take my clothes off again. I even started to wonder if he’d hated yesterday.

But now he was kissing me with the tenderness of a boyfriend. For that one beautiful second, I allowed my heart to soar, and my soul to dream.

“You look so beautiful, Isabelle,” he murmured.

I fussed at my hair, my cheeks warming. “I’m gonna grow it back to how it was.”

He nodded. “Looks nice in a bob. But when you’ve got such beautiful hair, it’s a crime not to have it long.” He ran his fingers through it, and tingles of pleasure raced through my body.

He sighed. “I guess we should go.”

I fought a flicker of disappointment. In that moment, all I wanted was for him to keep touching me like that.

“Is my outfit okay?” I asked.

“Very okay,” he said, his eyes raking me from head to toe, and coming to stop at my cleavage. “So okay, I’m wondering if we should leave the house at all.”

I opened my mouth to agree, but he grabbed my hand.

“Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”

* * *

The early eveninglight was yellow gold, and the trees cast long shadows on the road ahead. It looked dreamy and nostalgic.

“Is this the road we took to the rodeo?” I asked.

“Sure is.” He snuck a glance at me.

“Good,” I said. It felt right that we were retracing our path from that night. As we drove, the old feelings flooded back to me—all the nerves, anticipation. I’d been so excited at being alone with Joel in the car that I could hardly breathe. I’d sat straight as a poker, unable to relax, my nostrils full of his spicy, outdoorsy scent, and my head empty, desperately wishing I had something witty to say. Something that would make him see me as a grownup and not a dorky teenager.

Soon, we pulled into a lot behind an old-fashioned square. The dance was being held in the town hall, which was decked out with strings of lights and colorful banners. Country music was already pumping from the speakers as we went inside.

Joel seemed to know everyone in the place. We’d barely passed through the entranceway when he was mobbed by a bunch of people, wanting to know where he’d been for the past few days, why he hadn’t come to watch the game this afternoon.

He’d been with me, I thought, and got a little tingle in my tummy.

Joel chatted in his usual friendly way, but at the first opportunity, he introduced me. “This is Isabelle, my…”

My heart beat faster. How was he going to describe me?

But it seemed like he hadn’t thought about it either.

“A good friend of mine,” he said at last.

Disappointment washed over me. It was silly, but there it was. How else was he going to describe me—his kinky sex partner? The girl he’d rescued from a fate worse than death at a strip club? A possession of the mob?

No, I’d go for good friend. If all Joel wanted me for was kinky sex and friendship, I’d take it. It was a whole lot better than nothing. As a few pairs of envious eyes slid in my direction, I remembered arriving at the rodeo with him, seeing how many buckle bunnies had looked at him longingly. But he didn’t even seem to notice them.

I caught his arm. “Get you a drink?” I said with a grin.

He grinned back. “No, I’m taking you out tonight. That means I’m getting the drinks.” He made excuses to his group of friends, and led me over to a table full of liquor bottles and sodas, with beers in ice boxes on the floor.

We got a beer each. “Here’s to being an adult,” I said.

He clinked his beer against mine. “Cheers to that.” And the look he gave me was so intense that I shivered.

I looked out at the dancefloor. Line dancing was just getting started. I’d never seen it before, but it looked like fun. All the guys were in cowboy gear, while about half the women were also in cowboy gear, and the other half were wearing dresses.

“You remember the rodeo you took me to?” I asked.

“Of course.”

I took a pull of my beer, mustering my courage. “What d’you think would have happened if my parents hadn’t turned up?”

Joel’s head snapped toward me, his eyes filling with concern.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “Sometimes it does me good to talk about them. For the first two years, I never mentioned them, but now…” I trailed off.

He shoved at his cowboy hat, and I smiled at the familiar gesture. It had been in the dirt today, after a sudden gust of wind knocked it from my head while Odette was trying to break into a trot.

He narrowed his eyes and stared off into the distance. His chest rose as he took a big breath. “I might’ve let it continue for another thirty seconds or so. Then I would’ve gently pulled away, and explained that I was too old for you.”

I blinked as I absorbed his words. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Are you saying you liked me then?”

He kept staring out at the line dancers as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at me. “I always knew you were someone special. And that night at the rodeo when you let yourself go a little, it was—well, it was like magic. Nothing was going to happen between us. I was too old for you. But I remember thinking, imagine her in a couple of years’ time. She’s gonna stop traffic. And the guy who ends up with her will be luckier than me.”

“I-I…” The words stuck in my throat. “I thought you thought I was just a kid. I mean, I liked you a lot. But I never thought… I mean, until the alcohol took over…”

“Isabelle…” There was something unreadable in his eyes as he took a step toward me, and I stepped back.

I couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand knowing that there had been a chance for us in those days. That if I’d just gotten older, without getting screwed up, we could’ve ended up together.

“Let’s go dance,” he said.

I followed him on heavy legs to the back of the room.

He’d been modest about his dancing abilities. He seemed to know all the steps. Or at least, he was good at copying the old lady in front of him, who was dancing up a storm.

At first, I was slow and wooden, but Joel draped an arm around my hips, and made me move with him. It wasn’t so hard, actually. After the complex choreography of ballet, the steps were pretty straightforward, and soon I forgot about them and just had fun.

When the line dancing ended, Joel and I looked at each other, and I laughed out of pure happiness.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he said, and the approval in his eyes seemed to connect directly with my clit. He thought I was sexy, at least. That was something.

We took a quick breather, then people split off into pairs. Joel turned to me, held out his arms, and I melted right into them. My face fitted into the crook of his neck and my nostrils filled with his scent—that woodsy cologne of his, mixed with a hint of fresh perspiration.

Neither of us knew the steps, but as we glided around the dancefloor, I felt like I was dancing on air. I felt stupidly proud to be seen with him, with him holding me in his arms.

The tempo got faster, and he had us doing twirls, leaning me right back, Dirty Dancing style. It was fun and kind of crazy and, by the time we’d finished, we were both panting. I couldn’t stop grinning.

“Wooh, hot work,” I said, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.

“Having fun?”

“I’m having the best time. I haven’t had this much fun since—well, ever.” I laughed. “Now, who sounds like a dork?”

The look he gave me was full of affection. “You make an adorable dork.”

He laid his big hands on my hips again and suddenly his face swam into my vision. His lips were inches from mine, and my heart beat fast.

I pulled back. “Joel, I…” I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t get close to him. I needed to get off the ranch as soon as I could, and go into hiding.

I needed to drive Joel away.

“I need a drink,” I blurted.

His brow furrowed.

“Please, Joel,” I pleaded. “Just one more?”

“Isabelle.” He blew out a breath.

“Fine,” I spun away, my hair flying, “let’s just dance.”

He followed me to the floor, his smile gone. I felt a pang at ruining our fun night, but I hardened myself to it. It was for the best.

Before the next song started, he crowded close to me.

“Can you not?” I put a hand to the firm plane of his chest and pushed, but he didn’t budge. I made a disgusted sound. “Do you have to stand so close to me? Maybe I want to dance with someone else.”

“Not going to happen.” The music started up and he stepped right into me, locking a hand at the small of my back. We danced close, our bodies in sync, but I kept my eyes averted. I wanted to push him away, but it wasn’t working. My body liked the feel of his against it too much. His cock brushed my thigh, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Isabelle,” he breathed into my ear. “What’s wrong?”

I pushed him away again. “I have to go to the bathroom.” And I stumbled away, leaving him alone on the floor.

In the cramped ladies’ room, I splashed water on my face. What the hell was I doing? I peeked out of the door, and there was Joel’s silhouette, waiting for me at the end of the hall. The lights from the dancefloor outlined his muscular form. It was a sight to steal any woman’s breath. Joel was the total package. Big, handsome, protective.

I didn’t deserve him.

I ducked my head, and snuck in the opposite direction. There was a heavy security door, but someone had propped it open with a block of wood. I eased it open. In the back alley, there was a cluster of guys standing around near a dumpster, passing a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. It smelled like smoke, and trash, and dead-end dreams.

One of the guys turned towards me and did a double take, then offered me a stained-toothed smile.

The barbed wire twisted around my heart. I stepped into the night.

I’m not the girl Joel thinks I am. It’s time he learns that.

* * *

Joel

“Isabelle?”I knocked on the bathroom door. A few ladies came down the hall, and I raised my hat to them. “Can you check on my friend? She went in a while ago.”

The first lady entered. After a second, she stuck her head out. “Sorry, cowboy,” she said. “No one’s in here.”

I nodded my thanks and stepped aside to let all the ladies pass. “If she don’t want ya, I’m available,” one offered.

“Ma’am.” I tugged my hat and backed away. Where could Isabelle have gone?

Then I hear herd laughter out the back door.

“Isabelle,” I growled, and strode towards the sound.

The back door banged open, and the men beyond it jumped. But not Isabelle. She had her back to me, and a brown bottle in hand. She was swaying a little.

I was getting déja vu.

I sidled up behind her, and plucked the bottle from her hand. “Not tonight, little one.”

* * *

Isabelle

The hoochon my tongue burned and tasted disgusting, but I deserved it. I blinked up at Joel, overdoing a drunken sway.

“Joel.” I stumbled towards him and he caught me. He always catches me. I put my arms around him and puffed a breath into his face, giving him a blast of the nasty alcohol fumes. “I knew you’d come for me.” I stroked his arm, turning back to the watching guys. “He’s always coming for me. Why is that, I wonder?” I licked my lips and looked up at Joel. “Do you like pretty, broken things?”

“Isabelle,” Joel ground out, pulling me fully into his arms. “We’re leaving.”

“Hey, man, let her be,” one of the guys muttered, but I waved his help away. Joel would never hurt me.

Which made pushing him away so much harder.

“Such a good cowhand.” I patted his cheek as he guided me out of the alley into the parking lot. “So helpful.”

His jaw hardened. “I don’t know why you’re acting this way. But it’s going to stop.”

“Hey, where we going?” I tried to twist towards the town hall but he kept marching me forward. “I want to party.”

“Party’s over.” He scooped me up in his arms, and my breath at caught the power and strength of his body. I wanted to relax in his hold and purr like a cat.

It scared me.

I struggled as we approached the parking lot. The liquor was bitter in my mouth, and now my eyes were burning. Joel looked straight ahead, muscles rigid, his face turned to stone. We had a great night ahead of us, and I messed it up. What was wrong with me?

“Put me down,” I muttered. “Joel, stop.”

“Not now, Isabelle.”

“But…”

“If I put you down here, you’re getting punished.”

My breath left my body. “You would… do that? Right here?”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

“People would see.” I wasn’t sure why my panties were wet at the thought.

“You think this is the first time they’d see a cowboy taking his woman in hand?”

My eyes rounded. I stared at the cluster of people at the end of the parking lot.

“I’m sure they’d like to come watch,” Joel continued. “See a little discipline in action. Or you could behave until we get to the truck, and get disciplined in private. Because one way or another, Isabelle, you’re getting punished tonight.”

I kept quiet the rest of the way.

When Joel swung me down next to his truck, I turned to open the door, and he pressed his hand to the frame above mine, leaning his weight into it. I felt him looming over me, but I couldn't face him.

“I… fucked up,” I said to the frame. The barbed wire in my chest tightened until the pain was too much to bear. With the ache came a shot of rage. “But it’s your fault. You shouldn’t have brought me here.”

Joel waited as if making sure I wouldn’t say more before turning me to face him. The happy chatter of the people moving through the parking lot, the bright lights decorating town hall, it all seemed so wholesome, so right. I compared the pretty night to the riot in my head, and felt even worse. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I fucked up,” I repeated.

“Language,” he said roughly.

“Screwed up then.” I gave a little laugh, and covered my face to block out the night. I still couldn’t look at him.

“Isabelle.” His voice was gentle. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You don’t want to know.”

He took my hand and brought it down.

“I’m screwed up, Joel.” My voice shook a little.

“You’re not screwed up,” he said in a hard voice.

“I am. Worse than you realize.” The barbed wire tightened. Tears began to prickle behind my eyes. I can not burst into tears here.

“Isabelle.” He dropped my hand and cupped my face in both of his. The rough pads of his fingers felt so good on my skin. “Look at me.”

When I finally raised my gaze, his amber eyes were so gentle, they seared me. I felt so dirty, so ashamed.

“I think you're trying to be bad. But deep down, you want to be good. Is that right, little one?”

My answer caught on the barbed wire in my throat, so I nodded.

“You want me to take you in hand? Do you need someone to guide you to help you be good?”

“Yes,” I whispered. My shoulders relaxed, and I felt the relief of surrender.

“All right.” He opened my door and helped me into my seat, buckled me in. He drove us out of the lot, and I didn’t ask where we were going. When he pulled off the road into a dark field, I didn’t ask why we stopped. When he opened my door, I jolted as if I’d woken from a dream.

“Easy, girl.” He unbuckled my seatbelt and guided me out. He took me by the elbow and steered me to the back of the truck, where he sat down on the running board and positioned me in front of him.

“What are you doing?”

“You know what.”

I shivered, even though I wasn’t cold.

“You know what to do.” He patted his lap. “Over my knee.”

I clutched at my skirt with both hands. I knew what would happen when I was over Joel’s lap. I wanted it, but I was afraid.

“Come on now,” Joel said in the same coaxing tone I’d heard him use with a horse. He took my arm and guided me closer, then over his lap. “Easy. That’s it.”

I settled into the awkward position, balancing over his legs. My heart thumped against his denim-clad thighs.

I was so wet.

There was a whisper of breeze over my ass. He drew up my dress until it bunched at my back.

Then his fingers were hooking into the waistband of my panties.

“Joel, someone might see.” We were off the road, but if a car came by, the high beams would hit us. We were totally exposed.

“You leave the worrying to me.” His hand rubbed soothing circles over my back. “It’s all right, girl. I'll take good care of you, understand?”

I relaxed somewhat. “Yes.”

“That's it.” He moved his hand lower and kept rubbing the smooth globes of my bottom. After a few passes, he took my panties down and pulled them all the way off. Just like that, I was naked from the waist down, ass up over his lap, right on the side of the road where anyone could drive by and see.

I made a little noise, and he shushed me. “Leave it to me, Isabelle. You’re not in control. And you love it, don’t you? You love it when I take over.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. His fingers dipped between my legs and found proof of how much I loved this. The rough pads of his thumb and forefinger caught on the silky fold of my pussy lip. We both hummed a little as he rubbed me just right.

“All right.” He withdrew his hand when I was sopping. “Let’s get this done.”

Slap!His hand came down on my ass. No warm up this time, he smacked me hard enough to leave a print. I imagined the shape of it against my pale skin, glowing in the dark.

Slap! My other cheek stung. My hand flew back to protect my bottom and he caught it and pinned it in the small of my back. His other hand continued to pepper smacks on my exposed cheeks. Left, right, left, right.

“Fuck,” I muttered, squirming.

“Language.” A volley of swats, each harder than the last. My butt was roasting but my pussy throbbed. It wasn’t fair.

“You’re a good girl, Isabelle. You lost your way. I'm going to tame you, and you're going to be all right.”

He laid a few smacks on my sit-spots and the backs of my thighs, then helped me sit up. I shifted on his hard lap as he brushed back my hair.

“Now. You gonna tell me what you’ve been keeping from me?”

“What?”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t lie to me, Isabelle.”

My bottom clenched at the look in his eye. “I don’t… I don’t know…” My eyes darted wildly around the empty night.

He tipped me back over his knee. This time, my legs were splayed so I was riding one of his thighs. His hand kept punishing my ass. My legs kicked. Each jolt rocked me forward, my pussy rubbing the denim. I angled my hips for more stimulation, and Joel lifted me up.

“No, little one. This is punishment. You don’t get to come.” He repositioned me so my body folded over his left leg. His right one weighed down my calves. I was caught. I couldn’t move, couldn’t squirm away. I could only feel.

Each smack was ten times harder. Like Joel’s hand had transformed into a wooden paddle.

“I’m sick of you keeping things from me, Isabelle.”

Slap!

“How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t know what’s going on?”

The slaps echoed in my ears, and it hurt like crazy. But it felt good, too. It felt like absolution.

Slap! Slap! Slap!My ass burned.

A rumble in the distance, and I went still. “Joel! Someone’s coming.”

“You let me worry about that.” He kept me in place, his muscles like iron. I let my head hang down, hoping my hair would screen my face.

A rumbling engine rolled by, is lights washing over us. A few seconds and it was over, but the driver must have seen a cowboy with a girl in a dress balanced over his lap, her bare bottom all red and exposed. It was so humiliating.

And yet…

My clit ached.

It was turning me on. This horrible, shameful, public punishment.

Slap!

Joel’s hand was getting heavier and heavier as his spanking turned rhythmic. One of his hands lay in the small of my back, holding up my dress, while his other paddled my ass relentlessly.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I mewled and whimpered. My nose started to run, and tears streaked my cheeks.

“Stop.” The word burst from my lips like a traitor.

He paused. My entire ass was throbbing now. A single entity of burning pain.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, low and calm. I’d reached my limit, and he knew it.

My head pounded, and I could hardly breathe.

“One of the thugs at the club was forcing me to marry him,” I blurted out.

There was an intake of breath. “What?”

He lifted his arm from my thighs and pulled me onto my feet, tugging my skirt over my poor, punished ass.

I stood on trembling legs and told him the whole story—about the trust fund. How those morons had found out about it, and figured out how to get their hands on it.

“That’s why you looked like you were in a wedding dress. Isabelle, you should’ve told me.”

“They’re dangerous, Joel. More dangerous than you realize. And they’re not going to stop until they get what they want.”

“Like hell, they’re not,” he spat.

A bolt of alarm went through me. “I know you want to protect me. But there are so many of them. It’s not just the thugs who run the club. They have this whole network across North America. There’s a ton of them out there.”

He stomped a tight circle of the parking lot, his feet stirring up the dust.

At last he came to a stop in front of me, hands planted on his hips. “So they’re not gonna stop until you marry this asshole, right?”

I nodded miserably, twisting my fingers together. “That’s about right.”

“But if you marry someone else…”

I blinked, confused. “Yeah. If I marry somebody else, then the trust would get transferred then.”

“All right.” He folded me into his arms. “You did good, babygirl.” He smoothed a hand down my back. I realized I was trembling. “Thank you for telling me.”

I clutched him, pushing my face into his shirt, smelling his cologne, his clean skin. The scent of hay that clung to him no matter how often he showered. His scent calmed me but my thoughts still ran like a hamster on a wheel. “Joel.” My voice was muffled by his shirt. “What am I gonna do?”

“You leave that to me, little one. I’ll take good care of you.”

He drew back and kissed my forehead, then my wet cheek. He produced a hankie from somewhere—it was so old fashioned, it would have made me laugh under different circumstances. I let him wipe my eyes and then I took over, blotting my mascara and fixing my hair. My eye makeup left dark smears on his white handkerchief, but he didn’t seem to mind. He tucked it away, and helped me up into the passenger seat.

“You okay?” he asked as he buckled me in.

My punished bottom throbbed on the seat, but I gave him a wobbly smile. “Yeah.”

“Good girl.” He patted my knee and closed my door. Once in the driver’s seat, he fussed with the vents, making sure the hot air was blowing on me. “Your arms were cold,” he muttered.

My heart warmed. That was Joel. He didn’t skimp on the discipline, but then he took care of me.

The return journey seemed to take longer than the way out, but at last, we pulled up in front of… a neon sign?

Bridal Falls Wedding Chapel. The words blazed out of the darkness.

“Where are we?” I shot up in my seat. “What’s this?”

“This is me taking care of you, Isabelle.”

“People get married here?” I blurted out. I was full of smart questions.

“Yup. It’s a twenty-four-hour place. I remembered reading something about it in the news. And here it is.”

“Oh.” I blinked at the garish sign. “But… you can’t… this doesn’t…”

Joel laid a hand on my chest until the words quit falling from my mouth. “Breathe,” he ordered, and waited until I did. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“This won’t change anything.” I twisted my fingers together.

“It will, Isabelle. It solves everything.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. The barbed wire filled my chest until there was nothing left of me but fear and rusted metal.

“Isabelle, talk to me.”

“Joel, you can’t. I can’t marry you.”

Gentle fingers touched my chin, drawing me back to reality. “But I can. And I will. In five minutes, this can all be over.”

“You’re serious.”

“Deadly.”

I flinched, and he realized what he said. “It’ll be all right, Isabelle. I know you’re scared. Let me help.”

“But… marriage?”

He shrugged. “It solves a lot of things.”

“But you could marry anyone.” Another beautiful girl. Not a broken one, like me.

“Like who?” He made a show of looking around the deserted lot.

I couldn’t believe we were arguing about this. “But this is… marriage. Legal and everything.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never bought into all that. It’s an antiquated institution that just enables government interference in people’s lives. Why should I subscribe to that? Unless…” his voice softened, “unless it helps out somebody I care about.”

Of course. It wouldn’t be real. It’d be a fake marriage, to help me. But still… “Why would you go to all this trouble?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He stroked my cheek, and the rusty barbs in my chest loosened, no longer digging in quite so deep.

My lips were numb so I licked them and tried again. “You don’t want to do this. I’m so fucked up. ”

“I’ve spoken to you about how you talk about yourself.” His fingers gripped my chin more firmly. “I guess we’ll have to address it again. Later.”

My inner thighs clenched, but I shook his fingers off. “This won’t change anything, Joel. I’ll still be on the run, I’ll still be in danger.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. How was he so calm? “This will allow you to collect your trust. You can transfer it to a safe place, and decide what to do next. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Isabelle. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” I slumped a little in my seat. Joel’s fingers left my chin, and his car door slammed.

When I opened my eyes, the neon light was all I saw.

I sat frozen as Joel came around and opened my side. He unbuckled me, and stepped back.

“Little one.” He held out a hand. “Do you trust me?”

“Joel…”

“Do you need a reminder of who’s in charge?”

He would spank me, right here, right now. In the middle of the parking lot.

I took his hand and let him help me out of the car, pointing silently to make sure I collected my purse. As I stepped in front of him, he smoothed a hand down my back and bottom, as if making sure my skirt covered my ass. It woke the sting in my rear all over again.

“Just a reminder,” he murmured, and put an arm around me to escort me up to the building.

Joel walked me to the front entrance, but stepped to the side when we reached the door, drawing me with him. He set my back to the side of the building, and loomed over me.

“What are you doing?” We were between a big bush and the building, his big body blocking me from seeing beyond him to the door.

He turned to me, serious again, and suddenly, his hand was between my thighs. He gave a deep sound of satisfaction. I was so wet, he slid right in. Those thick fingers of his, almost too much to take, working in and out of me. A little rough, bruising, but so, so good. My thighs fell wider apart, I started to clench around him, and… he stopped.

My eyes flew open in time to see the wicked glint in his eyes. His hand disappeared into the pocket of his jeans and re-emerged with a scrap of black lace—my missing panties.

“Better be decent for our wedding,” he said. He insisted on helping me into them, one foot at a time, before shimmying them up to my hips. My cheeks burned. Anyone could pass us and see… but no one did.

Joel inclined his head.

“Let’s go.”

He took hold of my hand and kept hold of it as he led me into the chapel, which was a good thing, because my legs had turned to Jell-O, and I stumbled past the stoop. The inside was just as kitsch as the neon sign suggested, with gaudy crucifixes and images of the Virgin Mary everywhere, along with fluorescent-colored fake flowers, and various good luck charms. A gray-haired man with a long beard was sitting behind a desk, and he bounded to his feet as we arrived. “You folks looking to get married?”

“We sure are,” Joel said.

The man clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s just fantastic. You folks are my first this evening. You have your ID documents?”

I fumbled in my purse for mine and handed it over, and Joel also handed over his card. The celebrant tapped away at his computer. Then he raised a bushy eyebrow. “Will you be needing rings? We’ve got a small selection.”

“The best you’ve got,” Joel confirmed and took the ring sizing tool to measure my finger. “Five and a half.”

The celebrant pulled out a tray of properly sized wedding rings, and pointed to one in the middle. “This is our most exclusive.”

Joel took it and held it up to the light, examining it.

“Looks good,” he said at last. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.My silly heart twinged at the endearment as I took the ring with trembling fingers. It was a nice ring, white gold, and it looked like decent quality, not that I was any kind of expert.

“Two, please,” Joel told the guy.

What was even happening? My brain was a little numb.

“Joel…” I whispered. Joel turned back to me, his body blocking the celebrant from my view. “Are you sure?”

His eyes crinkled. “About the rings? Of course.”

I licked my lips, looking at him pleadingly.

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m sure, Isabelle. Let me do this for you.”

“Okay.” My voice trembled.

Joel cupped my cheek a moment and I leaned into his touch. Then he straightened, and turned us both to face the old man. “We’re ready now.”

The celebrant turned back from where he was pretending to be busy with the ring collection and gave us a grandfatherly smile. “Okay folks, take a seat here. I just need to run through the legal stuff. And if you have any special vows, you can say them to each other after.”

I barely listened as the man recited the required text, asking us to repeat various lines. This was a dream. There was no way this was happening in real life. Joel stood beside me, strong and so handsome. A rock I could lean on.

Are you sure?I asked Joel with my eyes. He dipped his head.

“You folks have anything you want to add?” the celebrant said.

I don’t deserve this were the only words I could think of. But then I would cry, and it would freak the guy out.

Joel turned to me, and took my hand in his. “Isabelle, I am marrying you of my own free will, and all of my heart. And I think we will be very happy together,” he said.

My breath caught in my throat and I bit down on the end of my tongue to stop myself from bursting into tears. So much for not crying.

Then Joel slipped the ring onto my finger, and I slipped the other ring onto his.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the celebrant said.

Joel took me in his arms. He dipped me a little, enough so I was off balance and totally supported in his arms. Then he lowered his head, his clean sawdust scent surrounding me. His stubbled chin rasped against my face, and his lips slanted across mine. His tongue probed, and when I opened my lips, it swept inside.

Surrender.

When Joel set me back on my feet, I clutched at him to keep upright. My husband. I’m married.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured. And somehow, I felt all right.

* * *

That’s my husband, sitting beside me, I thought all the way home. And I got so self-conscious that I couldn’t even look at Joel.

Back at the ranch, I looked around with new eyes. I was a married woman now. It didn’t seem possible. I used to dream about having a big engagement party, then a long leadup to the wedding, with lots of planning, sending invitations, booking venues. I’d imagined how excited my mom would be. Then the big wedding, with lots of guests, and my dad giving a speech, and the fairytale white dress I would be wearing.

Well, if there was one thing I’d learned in life so far, it was that nothing turned out the way you expected it.

As I opened the front door of the house, Joel grabbed me from behind and swept me into his arms.

I gave a little shriek of surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold, of course,” he said, close to my ear. I laughed, and protested as he brought me inside.

He insisted on carrying me through the house, all the way to his bedroom, where he deposited me on the bed.

“Joel, I can’t sleep here,” I said.

“Of course you’re going to sleep here. You’re my wife now.” His voice had turned low and growly, and it sent tremors through me.

He laid his hand at the base of my throat, and raked it the length of my body. “And now we’re going to consummate our marriage.”

Consummate.

The word lit a fire inside me. I liked that it was so old-fashioned. So formal sounding. As a teen, I used to wonder if I’d still be a virgin on my wedding day. I got that weird squirmy feeling in my tummy again—the one that started whenever Joel and I did anything out of the ordinary.

He stripped off my dress, my bra, and my panties. And there I was, naked again, while he was fully dressed. He lay on top of me, pushing my thighs apart and kissing me hard, possessively. His cock swelled beneath his zipper, and the fabric was rough against my bare sex. I could feel how wet I was, how much I needed him inside me.

He kissed a burning trail from my lips to my throat, along my collarbone, then he took my breasts into his mouth—first one and then the other, his tongue lapping at the tender buds, sucking until it almost hurt.

Then his head dipped lower, his lips brushing over my stomach and down to my hipbones, teasing, teasing. Spreading my legs wide apart with his hands; butterfly kisses on my inner thighs.

When he finally licked my clit, I almost lifted right off the bed.

He licked me back and forth, all over my bare pussy, making low sounds of appreciation. I quit feeling self-conscious, and relaxed. Enjoyed the amazing sensation of his mouth on me.

Soon, my hips started to move rhythmically in little jerks, my insides started to clench, and the feeling got bigger and bigger, until I exploded with a wild cry, climaxing beneath my husband’s skillful tongue.

“Stay right there,” Joel commanded, climbing off the bed.

Still tingling from my orgasm, I did as I was told, lying spread out, thighs wide apart, watching as he stripped off his clothes.

All that tanned, muscular flesh, and then his cock, jutting out, bigger and thicker than ever. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and rubbed it up and down, while his eyes ran all over my body like he was deciding what to do with me.

I quivered in anticipation, with a mixture of nerves and arousal. His cock looked dangerous, like a weapon.

He climbed up the bed and over me, straddling my chest. Now his cock was inches from my mouth. When he brought the head to my lips, I instinctively parted them, and he slid it in.

It went in deep like this, with my head angled back on the pillow. It filled my mouth and hit the back of my throat.

“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured, and a wave of yearning went through me. More than anything, I wanted to make him feel good, to satisfy him like he’d satisfied me.

He started to thrust in and out. It was hard to breathe, hard not to choke on him, but I did my best, trying to take as much of him as I could. My pussy ached like crazy while he fucked my mouth. It felt so hot to be used like this. Dirty and kind of wrong, but as hot as hell.

Soon, his thrusts got rougher, and as his own climax approached, he pulled out abruptly.

“Not yet,” he said.

A moment later, his big thick cock was between my legs, entering me. He pushed inside me with one big thrust, and slid home with a groan. I spasmed around him, little ripples of aftershock from my orgasm.

“Consummated,” I whispered.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said huskily. “We’re really man and wife now.”

He fucked me in long, smooth strokes, and I started to come again. It was ridiculous. Not possible. One orgasm welling up after another. The thrusts of his cock in perfect time with my own natural rhythm. He stayed right on top of me this time, and at the moment when he climaxed, he was looking deep into my eyes. I knew I’d never forget that look on his face. So full of passion and emotion. When he collapsed on top of me, pressing his face into my neck, my eyes teared up.

That was it. We’d consummated our marriage. Not a real marriage—one of convenience, to save my skin. But still, in the way that mattered most to me, Joel was my husband, and his big, hard cock was buried deep inside me.