Authors: RG Alexander
He’d also hired a goddamn matchmaker. Something he’d sworn never to do because it felt too arranged and forced. But he’d made his decision, and he’d be the one who had the final say on who he chose. It was done, and Ms. Anonymous had already reported on this morning.
He wasn’t used to being the subject of one of her articles, but he supposed he’d been asking for it. That woman got information faster than his second cousin, the detective. Maybe he should hire her. If he had control of her paycheck she’d stop digging up dirt on his friends fast enough.
The matchmaker was a professional and known for her discretion, so he was confident she hadn’t revealed their meeting. From the sparkle in her eyes, having one of “The Billionaire Bachelors” as a satisfied client would be a feather in her cap in the industry, so he knew she wouldn’t do anything to chase him away.
It had been a gentle, if awkward, inquisition. She’d asked the right questions, and listened as Tracy explained his busy lifestyle and loyalty to family. He told her he wanted a confident, smart and open-minded partner. Someone who could be comfortable with both city and country living. Adaptable. A self-sufficient woman who wouldn’t resent his regular business trips and the time he spent with his friends.
“And what about in the sex department?” she’d asked bluntly. “Any hang ups or turn offs I should know about while I’m finding your Mrs. Reyes? Are you looking for blonde or brunette? Experienced or virginal?”
Tracy had stared her down without blinking. “I believe I can handle
department without your help, ma’am. But I am an average red-blooded man who wants children. So if you’re asking about sex, my answer is yes.”
The matchmaker looked away first. “Of course, and I apologize, sir. But I wouldn’t call you average. You’d be surprised how many clients require specific physical attributes—down to the measurements—as well as particular sexual types. Your reputation as a gentleman, I see, is well deserved.”
He hadn’t responded, though he realized his omissions wouldn’t aid her in narrowing the search for his future bride. He
a gentleman, damn it. And because he was, he didn’t advertise his particular sexual type or say or do anything that could place his previous play partners in compromising situations with the press.
His experience as a rope top and Dom wasn’t something the matchmaker needed to know. If she found someone who fit most of his requirements, he would be able to discover easily enough how adventurous the woman would be in the bedroom. If she’d be up for his brand of rough play or if he would need to find another outlet to fulfill those needs.
Another outlet. The idea didn’t ease his mind, but it was one that had to be considered. When Dean had taken him to his first club in college and introduced him to kink, Tracy had been hesitant. He was a big man with big appetites that sometimes got the better of him. But the club had been a transformational and educational experience, giving him the skills he needed to control his strength, restrain his passions and ensure his partners pleasure while enhancing his own. It wasn’t something he was willing to give up. Not completely.
When the plane was in the air, a tall blonde stewardess dressed in the small, snug outfit he’d personally selected approached his seat. “Can I get you anything, Sir?”
Tracy studied her, wondering how the session could have slipped his mind. Speaking of outlets… He may be looking for a bride, but while he did he had no intention of denying himself. He’d had scenes with the lovely young Janice at the club for several weeks before she told him about this particular desire. A skilled lifestyler and stewardess by trade, she’d always wanted to serve and be dominated by a handsome passenger.
Sexualizing the mundane wasn’t an unusual fantasy, and it was a scene he was more than happy to indulge her in. Better to see to her pleasure than spend the hours it would take to get him home thinking about the kind of woman his matchmaker would find. And whether or not she would be open to his special cravings.
“Not in that position, princess. Get on your knees and ask me again.”
His erection stirred when she obeyed without hesitation, hiking her short skirt up to her waist to reveal her thong and lean, strong, perfectly tanned thighs, her eyes respectfully downcast. “Can I get you anything, Sir?” she repeated softly.
Tracy undid his buckle and slid it out of the loops in his jeans. Slowly. “I’m not sure, princess. Why don’t you show me what’s on the menu?”
She lifted her hands to the buttons of her shirt and slipped them out of their holes until she could part the fabric, revealing small breasts with long nipples that he knew were particularly sensitive.
“Nice,” he murmured. “You certainly know how to please your passengers.”
She licked her lips, betraying her excitement. “I try, Sir.”
“You succeed. Now clasp your hands in front of you without covering your breasts.” She obeyed and Tracy swiveled his chair toward her, leaning forward to easily loop his thin leather belt around her wrists and knot the ends. It wasn’t as versatile as his rope would have been, but after his experience with Sara Charles he had the desire to use it. His partner gasped in surprise.
“That’s good.” His hands caressed her arms before tracing their way to her nipples. He pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers. She arched her back obligingly but her moan was too distracted…more about sensation and less about him. Tracy increased the pressure until her breathing grew ragged and she was watching him for his next command. That was more like it. “Very good. Are you wearing what I sent you underneath your uniform?”
She nodded. “And I’ve left what you asked for under your seat, Sir.”
He caressed her lightly with his fingertips before letting go and reaching under the seat, finding the small remote device that went with the dual bullet vibrator he’d given her for the flight. “Convenient.” He turned it on the lowest setting, watching her lashes flutter in response.
“As to what I want, I think I’m in the mood for something stronger than beer today. My time in the city has spoiled me. Whiskey on the rocks should suffice.”
She didn’t move and he smiled. “You may stand now.”
“Yes, Sir.” She got to her feet, wrists still bound in front of her and hesitated. “Should I serve the pilot as well?”
Tracy hit a button on the device, pausing the vibration, and she made a low sound of regret. “Don’t be greedy. I’m a first class passenger and I require all your attention. And since I’d like to arrive at our destination in one piece, the answer to that is no.”
“Of course, Sir. I’ll do anything to make sure you fly with us again.”
She walked away to fix his drink and Tracy sighed, turning his chair toward the window. Maybe he shouldn’t have invited her onto his plane. She was a beautiful woman and a truly proficient submissive, but he was too distracted to pay her the kind of attention she deserved. He’d have her taken back home as soon as he landed. He hit the button again and saw her stumble as he gave her what he knew she wanted.
What in the hell did
The question told him his instincts were right. He needed to go home and get his head on straight. Somewhere he could think. He’d make some calls and see what loosening his vice-like grip on the family’s holdings would result in while he rode his neglected but loyal American Paint through the mountainside trails he loved. Maybe a few weeks alone would help prepare him for what came next. Namely, the files of women the matchmaker assured him would be in his email within days.
A wife and family of his own. It was time to put the past behind him and make it happen.
Tracy caught a glimpse of his bound stewardess, her walk slow and shaky as she tried to perform her duties with her hands tied and the vibrating bullets inside her as an added distraction. His erection hardened once more. He was going to spend the rest of this flight fulfilling her needs as he’d promised to do.
Would a woman he could see spending the rest of his life with want anything to do with this? With his brand of kink? Would she think he was a monster?
You could make her like it.
God, he fucking hoped so, because he was a beast, but in some ways he was also a traditionalist. Just like this grandfather before him.
Marriage was forever.
Alicia was upstairs with a towel wrapped around her body and another around her hair when she heard the front door rattle.
“Jinny, is that you?” She called from the open bathroom door. “I thought I told you to go to bed.”
Her sister didn’t answer. A few minutes later she heard the front door slam open and a male voice swearing.
Her reflection in the mirror showed her wide eyes in a face that had gone pale in shock. That didn’t sound like Miguel.
“Whoever the hell is in my house better show themselves by the time I count to ten, or I’ll have to decide whether to tow your car and throw your ass in jail or just shoot you for trespassing.”
Alicia hesitated for a split second before thinking about where they were. Small town in the mountains. Ranchers who lived as if they were still in the Wild West. She took off at a run, gripping the railing with wet hands and sprinting down the long hall that led to the front entrance.
“Don’t shoot!” she called out before she rounded the corner. “We were invited, don’t shoot!”
She clutched her towel and skidded to a stop when she saw him. She looked up and swallowed a surprised gasp. The stranger was a giant of a man. Big and muscular and…angry. He was definitely angry. And just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He didn’t appear to be armed but that didn’t ease her mind. He was huge and he could no doubt snap her like a twig if she didn’t tread carefully.
“What are you doing in my house?” he repeated softly. Dangerously.
Alicia couldn’t hide her disbelief, despite her nerves. “This is
house? I thought it belonged to Mr. Patricio Reyes.”
Old Mr. Reyes, the often absent cowboy cousin of Miguel’s who’d given him a ranching job at the bottom of the mountain.
He set down his bag and leaned against the closed door, crossing his arms. “That’s what I said. My house. My land.” He looked down at her with narrowed eyes. “My towels. I didn’t send out for company, naked or otherwise. I’m not in the mood. Tell me who did or tell the Sheriff when he takes you back to town.”
Old my bare ass.
Oh shit, her ass was bare.
She should have known. Should have expected this. “Miguel. Miguel Reyes-Faris? He had a key and he said he had permission for us to stay until he made other arrangements.”
“Miguel told you…” The man stalked toward her, making her stumble backward and hold her towel more tightly to her chest. “We? Is he here shacking up with you when he’s supposed to be in the bunkhouse?”
He headed toward the stairs and she instinctively reached out to grab his arm. There was no give. He felt like hard iron under her hand. If she survived this, Miguel was in so much trouble. “He’s not…I mean
not…look, just let me get dressed and I’ll explain.”
He gripped her wrist and took her hand off his arm, not letting go. “You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, little girl. I’m tired. I’m pissed. And I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know what’s going on. Explain now.”
“Alicia?” Jinny’s voice wavered down to her from the stairs. “Is Miguel here?”
Her fear disappeared. She didn’t care how intimidating this man was, her sister needed her protection. Alicia struggled against his hold and glared at him when he didn’t release her “Take your hand off me,” she whispered angrily. “If you’re actually Mr. Reyes, then your cousin brought us here when I refused to leave the ranch until he explained why he wasn’t taking care of his wife and unborn child.”
The forbidding man released her wrist abruptly and stepped back, studying her body in silence.
Alicia sighed. Now he thought she was pregnant. At least he’d stopped touching her. Her wrist was still tingling from the contact. She raised her voice. “Jinny, come on out honey. Miguel forgot to tell the giant, scary owner of the house that he had company.”
“Oh no. He couldn’t have.” Her sister appeared, walking around the corner toward them with one hand protectively cupping her rounded belly through her pink tank top.
Alicia looked at her through the stranger’s eyes and knew what he saw. Very pregnant. Too young. Pale and far too slender for her condition, with shadows under her eyes and her beautiful golden curls mussed from a restless sleep.
She wanted to kill Miguel all over again, the same way she had when she’d answered Jinny’s call and driven to Colorado after the last day of the June session and found her like this.
Jinny’s gray eyes were wide when she looked up at their new arrival. “The owner?
old Mr. Reyes?”
“I’m the owner, anyway. But I wish you ladies would stop with the flowery descriptions before I get a big head.” His expression changed in an instant from hard to handsome. Kind. He smiled and Alicia’s breath caught in her throat. “My name is Tracy. Jinny, is it? Miguel never told me he had such a lovely bride. And my aunt didn’t tell me she was going to be a grandmother, which I would imagine she would want to shout from the rooftops.”
Jinny sent a guilty glance toward Alicia. “She doesn’t know yet. Miguel said we needed to wait until he could afford a place for us before he told her he was married with a baby coming.”
“Son of a bitch, Jinny,” Alicia exploded, forgetting about their witness or the tenuous situation. “He hasn’t even told his mother you’re
? It’s been nearly two years, what the hell is he waiting for—your fiftieth anniversary? And why are we still here, again? Let me take you back home. You can start taking college courses and I’ll find you a good obstetrician… You don’t deserve this kind of abuse.”
“I’m here because
is here.” Jinny’s chin jutted out defensively. Looking the same way she did when she was twelve and the seventeen year old Alicia refused to let her get her ears pierced. “Miguel loves us and he’s doing the best he can. No one ever gave him a chance until now. He brought us here to start a new life thanks to Mr. Reyes, but a bunkhouse full of men is no place to have a pregnant wife.”