Jason woke up early to check on the horses before Franco arrived at nine. Usually he got out of bed immediately upon waking. This morning he had a reason to linger. Simone lay on her side facing the window. Her naked back was way too tempting. All he wanted to do was press himself against her until she woke up, and they could have sex again.
The horses might not appreciate that, however.
Jason threw on clothes, walked the barns, let the crisp April morning air wake him up better than coffee ever could. Maybe it was last night’s rain. Maybe the sky was more blue than usual that day. Maybe he had on rose-colored glasses because he had a pretty pink-haired girl in his bed who kept calling him “sir.” But whatever the reason, Jason decided today was the nicest day he’d spent yet in Kentucky.
God damn, he loved it here. He loved his hundred-year-old farmhouse hidden among the oak trees, loved every inch of his sixty-acre spread. Good thing Franco wasn’t there or Jason might have hugged the man and that might have made their working relationship a little awkward.
Leaning on the wooden fence, he watched the horses for a few minutes. Rusty and Barley, the trail horse he’d been training, were making friends over a patch of clover. A few heavy limbs on the eighty-foot oak tree in the center of the pasture had come down during the rain yesterday. Jason made a note to tell Franco to call the tree guys to come trim the branches.
Otherwise everything looked good. Nothing more for him to do except go back to the house and see about getting Simone out of bed. Or maybe leaving her in there all day. Of course if she was in bed all day, he couldn’t leave her there alone. She’d need company. Otherwise she’d get bored. God only knew what sort of trouble a pink-haired New York gal would get into if he left her alone for too long.
He kicked off his wet boots in the mudroom before heading upstairs to see what his girl was up to.
His girl?
Well, for a couple days she was his girl. All his and no one else’s. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d found her and in the craziest of places—the library. He ought to check out books more often if this was the sort of thing that went on in libraries.
Back in his bedroom he found Simone still sleeping, tangled up in his red flannel sheets and covered up to the neck in his plaid quilt.
“You awake, Spanky?” he asked, tugging the quilt down to see her face.
“If you tell me to wake up, I’ll wake up,” she said with her eyes still closed tight. “But if you don’t, I’m sleeping.” She gently and slowly pulled the quilt back over her face. Jason laughed and tugged it down again.
“Gotta wake up,” he said. “That’s an order.”
Over the top edge of the blanket she opened her eyes.
“See? There’s a good girl,” he said.
“You’re up early, sir.”
“It’s eight. Not that early.”
“It’s early for me. Especially since my wicked master woke me up at three in the morning to f—”
He glared at her.
“To have sexual relations with me,” she said.
“You weren’t complaining last night.”
“I’m not complaining this morning, either.” She grinned up at him. “It’s my job, after all.”
“It is,” he said. He pushed the covers down to her waist for no other reason than she had gorgeous breasts and he wanted to look at them. “And you’re very good at your job.”
He bent his head and kissed her nipples. Simone murmured soft sounds of pleasure as she put her hand around his neck and caressed his hair.
He moved up her chest and neck to her lips and gave her one long lingering kiss.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Now get your ass out of bed and dressed. Be in the kitchen in five minutes or else.”
“Or else what?” she asked.
“You challenging me?” he asked, staring down at her.
“No, but I don’t know if I can get cute in five minutes so I’m just wondering what the consequences are if I’m late.”
Jason looked up at the ceiling.
“Lord, give me the patience to put up with pink-haired girls and their sass.”
Then he ripped the covers off her, dragged her over his legs and spanked her hard and fast about half a dozen times, Simone laughing and squealing the entire time. When finished he playfully threw her off his lap and back onto the bed. He stood up and pointed down at her.
“Five minutes,” he said. “Starting now.”
As he left the bedroom he saw her jump out of the bed.
“I have no clothes,” she said.
“Not my problem,” he called back.
He smiled all the way down the stairs. There were worse things in life than driving a sexy girl up the wall before breakfast.
Jason had just poured the coffee when Simone appeared in the kitchen wearing one of his flannel shirts from his closet, a pair of his socks, and nothing else.
“You stole my panties,” she said when he looked her up and down over the top of his coffee mug.
“I’m keeping ‘em, too,” he said. “What are you wearing under there?”
“Boxers,” she said and lifted her shirt to show him. “Yours, sir.”
“Cute. Real cute. I guess we need to get your luggage out of the car.”
“I don’t know. I like wearing your clothes,” she said. “Nice and cozy.”
“We got another option,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“I could keep you naked all week.”
He was pleased to see that idea didn’t horrify her.
“If that’s what you want,” she said with a smile. “Sir.”
“You’d get cold.”
“Not if you kept me warm.”
“You--” he pointed at her with his mug--“are killing me.”
She raised her hands in feigned innocence. “Oops? Sorry?”
“You’re about as sorry as I am. You get breakfast started. I assume you know how to cook bacon and eggs?”
“I can handle that.”
“And I’ll get your things out of your car,” he said. “Can’t have you running around the farm naked. I got good Christian neighbors.”
Simone was already digging through his fridge when he went to put his boots on to fetch her things from her car. Her car keys were on the kitchen table. As he walked to her car, he realized that at any point yesterday evening, last night, or this morning, she could have put her clothes on, her shoes—also still in the kitchen—and grabbed her keys and left.
But she hadn’t left. He’d spanked her and cropped her, woken her up in the dead of night for the sole purpose of fucking her, and now he’d ordered her to cook them breakfast while he brought her things in. He’d even struck her so hard—accidentally—that she’d bled a little bit. And not once had she even hinted that she was thinking about running for it.
She was here. She was his—for the time being.
And she was sticking around.
He’d thought for sure that if he ever told a girl he liked what he was into, what he fantasized about, what he knew he needed if he was ever going to fall in love and stay in love, that girl would run for the hills like a pack of wild dogs was nipping at her heels. The girls in his fantasies were always crying, begging, pleading for mercy when he turned them over his knee or spanked them or forced them to perform sex acts on him and for him. He never knew there were women who’d sign up for that and do it with a smile.
But Simone had, and she was still there, in his kitchen, cooking breakfast and smiling because he’d come back with her things, and she was happy to see him.
“Orange juice?” she asked.
“Just coffee.”
She poured the coffee and put the plates on the table.
“I could get used to this,” he said as he sat her down at the table and took his seat opposite her.
“Someone to cook breakfast?” she asked. “I’m not that good of a cook.”
“No, I mean, I could get used to feeling this good every morning. Instead of…I don’t know, feeling alone all the time.”
Simone gave him a soft-eyed smile. She really was awfully sweet.
“Mistress Nora told me there’s different kinds of loneliness,” she said. “There’s the lonely where you’re lonely for someone else. But there’s also a kind of loneliness where you’re lonely for your real self. You think you’re missing someone in your life and it turns out it’s you. Maybe you felt alone so much because you had to hide the real Jason from yourself for so long.”
“Maybe so,” he said. “It’s kind of nice getting to be me.”
“He’s not such a bad guy,” Simone said between bites of eggs over easy.
“I thought he was.”
Simone shrugged. “I won’t lie to you,” she said. “Lots of women wouldn’t like this. Being spanked by a guy as strong as you hurts. Blow jobs on command are not something a lot of women are 100% into. And being woken up at three in the morning so your guy can f…have sex with you would not fly in a lot of relationships. But, lucky for you, it flies with me.”
“It flies, does it?”
“Like a 747.”
“Why do you like it so much?” he asked.
“You really want to know?”
“I asked.”
“Well, truth is, the reason I like it so much is…I’m awesome.”
He laughed. “That so?”
“You think it’s awesome, right? At least certain parts of you seem to think so?”
“And my opinion counts that much?”
“We’re the only two people who exist in our little private world, remember? If I think I’m awesome and you think I’m awesome, who’s to argue?”
“That’s a damn good point,” he said and went to work devouring his breakfast, which was better than he expected from a New Yorker.
“Can I tell you something else, sir?” Simone asked a minute or so later.
“I suppose you can.”
“I think you’re awesome, too.”
She said it teasingly like the adorable tease she was, but it hit Jason hard right in the gut.
“Do you know how many women have said stuff like that to me?” he asked her.
Her eyes flashed wide. “A lot?”
He nodded. “You win big trophies and you win big money and you get a couple commercials for trucks, and girls who knew you six days in the fifth grade show up at your events and shove their phone numbers in your pocket while they’re whispering in your ear how much they want to fuck you. I had girls offer me their prettier sisters if I’d take them first. I had a mom offer me herself and her daughter. Why is that when they say stuff like that to me, I think they’re blowing smoke in my eyes and with you…with you I think I almost believe it?”
“Just like we talked about last night,” Simone said. “People will say they respect ‘women’ and what they actually respect is some fantasy ideal of women that has almost nothing in common with the real women all around them. Those women who hit on you were like that. You were a fantasy to them, this famous rugged champion who never had a scared or insecure moment in his life. They were talking to the fantasy cowboy they saw. I was talking to Jason Waters sitting at this table with me. That’s why you should believe me. And what you should believe is there’s nothing wrong with what you are and a whole lot right with it. You might not be the sort of man for every woman out there but you are definitely a good man who is very sexy and a lot of fun to be with. And even more fun to serve, be it breakfast or blow jobs.”
She ended her little speech with a toss of her hair and a too-innocent-to-be-believed smile.
Jason laughed. “Breakfast or blow jobs?”
“Exactly.”
“What about breakfast and blow jobs?” he asked.
“What about it, sir? Sounds like a good morning to me.”
Jason put his fork down and sat back in his chair. “Come here,” he said. He pointed at the floor.
Simone stood up and gracefully knelt at his feet.
Jason unbuttoned his jeans.
She licked her lips and wrapped her mouth around his cock and sucked it until it was rock hard.
He could get used to mornings like this.