Badass (2 page)

Isaac forced himself to stand there and watch her drive away. He felt like something unbearably precious had slipped through his fingers and shattered on the ground.

****

Several days later, Avery came to a conclusion. She had cried herself to sleep for the last time. The way she saw it - she had a choice. She could either give up on Isaac McCoy, forever, or she could attempt to transform herself into a woman he could be attracted to. Since she was already head over heels in love with him, it seemed that changing her looks and personality would be easier than giving up on her dream.

Just as there were things about him that most people didn’t know, Avery had secrets, too. Some of her secrets would shock her folks and the church. One of them was the way she made her living. Avery was a writer. She wrote romance novels. Oh, they weren’t too risqué – after all, she was inexperienced. But she did have a good imagination, one that was fueled by Isaac. She had been saving her money, too. And Avery was ready to declare her independence. Tricia, her best friend, had always dreamed of opening a florist shop. Now, Avery was financially able to go into business with her. In fact, by the time she got back, things would be in full swing. Tricia had already rented the building, stocked the store and was already filling orders. All she had to do was dive right in and start helping. That way, she could stay in Kerrville near Isaac and still be active in the community. Her writing would have to remain a secret, but that was okay.

Yes, there were a lot of changes she wanted to make in her life. A born organizer, Avery knew how to set priorities – and Isaac was her first priority. Knowing she had to take serious steps to gain the knowledge she needed, Avery decided to go to an expert. No one would ever have to know. Discretion would be necessary – but like the TV commercial said – what happens in Vegas – stays in Vegas.

So, she made a phone call. After two rings, there was an answer: “Operator. May I assist you?”

She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Yes ma’am, I’m looking for a number in Nevada for the Shady Lady Ranch.”

There was a pause and then the grandmotherly sounding operator had to put her two cents in. “Honey, you have a sweet little voice. I can tell you’re a nice girl. Do you realize you are enquiring about the number for a house of ill repute?”

Avery cleared her throat, stuck her chest out and stood up for herself. “Yes, ma’am, I am. I need that number, if you don’t mind. I’m tired of being the good girl. I want to learn how to be bad.”

Chapter One

“I don’t think one can learn how to give a proper blow job by practicing on a dildo.” Destiny leaned on the table resting her chin in her hand, chewing gum with gusto, and popping one bubble after another. “Whatcha got against using a real dick that’s hooked to a real guy?”

Avery stopped licking the thick pink shaft. She wrinkled her nose, the sex toy didn’t taste that great and it made her tongue dry. “Because the only penis I want to kiss is attached to the man I love. I’m just here to learn how to please him.” She turned the large cock around in her hand and looked at it from all angles. “This is really big. Do real ones come in this size?”

“You are innocent, aren’t you? I thought Margo was kidding.” Destiny straddled a dining table chair and leaned forward, arms draping over the high back. “I don’t understand what you’re doing here. You let them parade you out at line-up, but Derek is always there to claim you. And we all know he just walks you to the back, kisses you on the forehead and goes back to bartending.”

Laying the fake male member down, Avery settled back in her chair and looked at the girl in front of her. Destiny was Avery’s age, maybe even a bit younger. But she was eons older in sexual experience. Yet, Avery felt protective of her. Did that make sense? It was probably her latent missionary instincts. “I came to Shady Lady to learn how to pleasure a man. Where I’m from – my face, my name, and my family – they are all synonymous with being strait-laced and having good family values. I couldn’t talk to my mother about sex, or my best friend – nobody. So, I called here on a lark and my request intrigued Madam Margo so much, she invited me out for a few weeks.”

“What does cinnanamous mean?”

Avery wanted to laugh so bad her sides hurt. “Synonymous is a word that means - never mind. All I’m saying is that where I’m from, nobody sees me as a sexual being or as a woman anyone would want to have sex with.” She remembered what the drunken cowboy had said the night Isaac had broken her heart. “I might as well be a nun.”

“Why didn’t you just let your boyfriend teach you about sex?”

Destiny’s naive expression and logical answer hurt Avery’s heart. “That would have been my first choice. Unfortunately, Isaac isn’t my boyfriend. And he has no desire to be, either. At one time, I thought he liked me. I used to catch him staring at me, and once he said I was beautiful. But now I’m convinced he was only curious about me because I’m so different than he is. That’s what I want to change. I want to become a woman he could be attracted to.”

Unbidden, Destiny’s hand went to the top of Avery’s bent head and she stroked her hair like she was comforting a frightened kitten. “You are a beautiful, desirable woman and I shall teach you how to make him glad he’s a man. All I need to know is what he’s like and what turns him on. By the time I’m through with you – you, Avery Sinclair, will be Isaac McCoy’s dream girl.”

****

Isaac was working double time; his more obvious goal was visible, out in the open and public. He was working on Hardbodies, renovating the bar into his vision of a seductive, exciting place for the locals to hang out on a Saturday night. All in all, he was pleased with what he had done. You could get a cold mug of beer, or a glass of wine and listen to some decent live music. Austin was close enough that he had no trouble attracting quality bands. By his design, Hardbodies was a cross between a western/cowboy saloon and a biker haven. Both species were catered to and welcome in his establishment. Mainly – because he was a cross between the two himself.

Isaac McCoy was one of THE McCoy’s of Tebow Ranch. He and his brothers had broken horses, raised cattle, rode in the rodeo, played football – done everything a Texas good ole’ boy was supposed to do - and they had done it well. Tebow wasn’t as big as the infamous King Ranch, but it epitomized what a Texas ranch should be like. More than a showplace, it was their home. For the past few years, he hadn’t spent as much time there as he should have. It wasn’t his family’s fault; the walls just seemed to want to close around him.

Aron had done his best to keep them all together after their parents died, but Isaac and Joseph had found their solace in a different manner than the others. Jacob had made family a priority, making sure that nobody’s birthday went unnoticed and no holiday went uncelebrated. Noah had become Mr. Conservative, he was way too serious and Isaac worried that his inflexibility would one day do him in. Joseph had become an extreme athlete, one of the best that Texas had ever produced. While he, himself, had become the wild child – the black sheep – the troublemaker of the family – or at least that’s what he let the others believe.

Oh, he ran in a rough crowd, sometimes, but Isaac had stood up for more underdogs than he could count. He had made it his business to see that outlaw biker gangs kept their distance and there was no violence or drugs in his territory. When he had been approached by Shorty to buy the bar, Isaac had jumped at the chance. Being the owner of the local watering hole would put him right in the middle of the action so he could make sure all was as it should be. His family had been surprised and pleased that he had taken on the responsibility of owning a business – they knew of some of his community involvement, but not all of it. And that was the way he wanted it.

Isaac had his good qualities, even he could admit that. On the other hand, he couldn’t deny that he had a dark side. Not even his brothers knew the whole truth. Isaac McCoy had a penchant for black leather, fast bikes, and faster women. And he had a secret. A big secret.

As Isaac stood at the door of his basement playroom, he smiled. Now, he wouldn’t have to drive into Austin or Houston or Dallas to satisfy his sexual appetites. Isaac McCoy was a Dom. In some circles, he was developing quite a reputation. Several times submissives seeking to be trained had approached him. Even a few Dom-wannabes had asked for direction and advice. In the Texas BDSM world, he was known as Badass – and it was a title he had earned. Isaac was a badass. He liked his sex rough and hot, but most importantly he had to be in control. And that fact was why he couldnis bt have the one woman he wanted more than anything.

Shutting the door to his secret hide-a-way, he headed up front to the bar. It was too early for customers; Doris was restocking the liquor and cutting up garnishes. Meanwhile, he was doing his dead level best to forget the devastated look on Avery’s face when he told her she wasn’t woman enough for him. What a huge fuckin’ lie that had been! He wanted Avery Rose Sinclair, but he was afraid he would end up crushing her like a rose trampled on the ground. So, he was just going to have to forget her and move on. It would be the greatest gift he could give her.

First, though – he was going to have to find out what had happened to her. After that fiasco in the bar, she had up and left – just disappeared. Her parents had moved out of town about six months earlier, when her dad left his pastorate in Kerrville and accepted a church in the valley. Isaac had always suspected that Avery stayed in town to be near him. And now, she was gone because of him.

He had driven by her little house three times over the past couple of days. It looked deserted. Even though he had known it was going to be a disaster, he had looked up her dad’s new church on the Internet and called the parsonage number to see if she might be visiting them. He needed to know that Avery was okay. At least her mother had answered his question before she had discovered who she was talking to. Avery wasn’t with her parents. And her mom hated his guts. But he had already known that.

Isaac didn’t have the same community social standing that his brothers had. To the less pious members of the Kerrville community, he was their example of an upstanding citizen. He wasn’t a front man like his brothers; Isaac did his good deeds behind the scenes. Most people didn’t know how hard he worked for different organizations and the time and money he devoted to charitable events. Avery did. Countless times they had worked together, and if she had needed something done – she had always known that Isaac was one of the few that she could count on.

Over the years, he had watched her grow up and change from a pretty girl to a devastatingly beautiful woman with a natural grace and the sweetest spirit known to man. He smiled, remembering the quirky sense of humor she had. Avery had a kind word for everybody and one thing that had always amused Isaac was the way she loved to play pranks on people. Half the time they backfired on her, and she never had a problem laughing at herself. Avery was a wonderful person and truly a joy to be around.

Walking out the back door of Hardbodies, Isaac opened the tailgate of his truck and began unloading cases of tequila and rum onto a dolley. He racked his brain trying to figure out where she could have gone, ashamed to admit that he didn’t know who her friends were, or even what she did for a living. In his efforts to keep her at arm’s length, he had failed to hold up his end of the friendship bargain. She had always attempted to make conversation with him, asking him polite questions and showing interest in his life – but he hadn’t returned the favor. So, where was she? Slamming the tailgate, Isaac let loose a blue streak of remorse. If something happened to Avery, he’d never forgive himself.

****

“That’s right. Now, suck the head like you’re eating a big ole juicy plum.” Three of Nevada’s finest ladies of the evening leaned over Avery as she yummed down on a pink plastic Jackrabbit.” She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that she was kneeling in front of Isaac giving him pleasure. “Now, pump it as you suck it,” Roxy instructed, moving her own fist up and down in the air. Avery tried to follow the instructions – after all, this was important to her. But she got the giggles.

“Watch your teeth. Don’t bite the boy,” Claret fussed, taking her job seriously. That thought sobered Avery up; she didn’t want to do Isaac’s private parts any damage. Extricating the faux penis from her mouth, she wiped her lips with a paper towel and announced, “Let’s do something else – my mouth is tired.” Hopefully, kissing Isaac’s penis would be more exciting than this.

“How ‘bout if we work on your wardrobe, Avery?” Claret got a sneaky expression on her face; she was having a good time playing erotic mentor. Just last week, she had taught Avery how to walk – how to slowly strut and sway her hips – every move a flaunting of her sexuality. After putting on music, the girls had taught her how to use those moves in a pole dance or a lap dance. Several of them had worked with her on routines, going over and over the moves until she had them memorized.

Every night after she would retire to her room, Avery would stand in front of the mirror, and practice being sexy. She would put one hand on her hip, one leg in front of the other, and thrust her breasts out. Much to her surprise, she seemed to be catching on – and Avery was her own worst critic.

It amazed her how free and easy she felt with these women. Here, she had truly been able to let down her hair. Avery swore she had never laughed so much. She had even confessed to them about her writing. In the quiet hours of the night, she had penned her first erotic story and sent it off to her publisher before she could change her mind. It had been called, “Cowboy Heat” – and of course, Isaac had been the hero. All of the girls had downloaded the free eBook reader app and had bought her stories. A few had even asked for her autograph. She had to admit she sort of enjoyed the attention. It had been difficult never sharing that part of her life with anyone. One night they sat up until the wee hours of the morning talking and laughing. She told them the plots of several more novels she had in the works and showed them how to find her website and her blog. Tricia was a good friend – but these were things she had never felt able to share with anyone, before now.