Callie Bowen is a well-known actress. After accepting a part in a movie, the studio sends her to a working ranch in the middle of nowhere to learn about ranching. It’s all been arranged through her agent and the female co-owner of the ranch.
Boyd Miller isn’t happy when his sister informs him that she has ignored his misgivings and gone ahead with the plans to let a famous actress come to the ranch to learn the ropes, so to speak, under his tutelage.
Callie has trust issues, and Boyd has sworn off women, so how can they possibly be attracted to each other?
Publisher’s Note: This sweet contemporary romance contains a theme of power exchange and mild love scenes.
Despite the sheer volume of things she had read and seen on the subject, Callie hadn’t really applied that knowledge to herself, since she’d never believed that this situation was ever going to become a reality for her. She hadn’t spent much time—if any at all—daydreaming or even masturbating to scenarios that involved her. She preferred to replay stories, or even articles, that she’d read about the subject in her mind.
So she was relatively unprepared for what it felt like.
She could tell that Boyd wasn’t using much of what had to be a tremendous amount of strength, but from the first surprisingly loud swat to the last, it was downright unbearable! By the time his palm had connected with her rear for the third time, she wanted to scream, but she knew she couldn’t. All she needed was for Evvie to burst in on them like this. She’d never get over the mortification—and what if the press found out?
As if he intuited what she was feeling, Boyd reached for the remote and turned something on that sounded as if it was war related, pumping up the volume just enough that she wouldn’t have to be completely silent, but she wouldn’t likely wake Evvie, either.
Callie sincerely hoped that he’d take it as a sign that he should ease up on her or shorten the duration of the spanking, but he obviously didn’t do either of those things.
He picked up right where he’d left off, much to Callie’s chagrin, cracking his hand down on her barely covered cheeks and enjoying the sounds of her distress entirely too much to ever consider himself a gentleman again.
Her “oohs” and “ows” and “ohhs” were just the right accompaniments to his efforts. Each one of them, along with the occasionally pained gasp or moan, went right to his groin. And when she began to kick her legs up and move around, trying to twist away from the smacks, she practically succeeded in making him soil his pants.
“I’ll try never to put too much food on your plate, Callie. And you can always give it back to me and I’ll see if I think I can take some away. But what you end up with, I expect you to eat, or you’re going to find yourself right back here. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”
Damn him and his voice that could launch a thousand orgasms! She didn’t know which way to turn, what to say, except for, “Please stop!” which hadn’t worked up until now.
“Callie?” Her name was accompanied by another flurry of sharp, stinging spanks.
“Yes!” she almost screamed. She would have said anything to ensure that his hand didn’t fall another time.
It was fast and hard and horrible—deliberately so. Boyd didn’t want it to drag on, which compounded the possibility of discovery, which wasn’t something he desired, either. And he didn’t want her to think that he was just some horn dog—although the proof was undeniable—who was trying to take advantage of her for his own purposes.
His intentions were good. But his body was bad—very bad.