Layla Walker never imagined living in Jackson Hole until she inherited her grandfather’s veterinary practice. But at least there’s a lifestyle club available where she can get her so-not-vanilla needs met. And yet, there isn’t a single cowboy at the club who makes her stop and take notice… until the night she gets called in for an emergency at Hunt Trail Rides and she runs into the owner. He’s big and brawny, looking more like a throwback to a Scottish raider than a modern-day cowboy. And then there’s the little fact that he kisses her brainless in under five seconds. That had to be a world record, at least in her book.

Alex Hunt keeps women at a distance. It’s not that he doesn’t partake of the bountiful submissives at his lifestyle club – he does – but he doesn’t let them get close. Abandoned by his mother as a child, now in his mid-thirties, he’s resigned himself to living the bachelor life… until one sexy hot veterinarian waltzes into his barn and helps save his foaling mare. Now he’s had a taste of heaven in a kiss that should have never happened, and he can’t help but want more of her seductive embrace. And he will stop at nothing to draw her into his world – and his bed.

But there’s a thin line between love and lust, fear and trust. Will Layla be able to let go of her fear and trust Alex? Or will she run away and prove to him that women can’t be trusted to stay?

Publisher’s Note: This steamy romance contains elements of power exchange. While it’s the sixth book in the Cuffs & Spurs series, it can be read and enjoyed as a standalone.

 

Excerpt

Alex’s golden eyes turned downright frosty. The man moved like a tiger striking. One minute she was sitting beside the man attempting to remove his hand, and the next, she was face down, her ass splayed out over his thick muscular thighs. He shoved the hem of her dress up to her waist, exposing her bottom as she endeavored to rear up and scoot off his lap.

But Alex snarled. He was having none of it. He laid one thickly muscled forearm across her lower back, effectively trapping her against his thighs, while his other hand ripped her lace thong off, exposing her pussy to the entire club.

Then, without preamble, his large palm connected with her bottom. Hard. Her skin throbbed where his hand had fallen.

She gasped. “Alex.”

“That’s Sir or Master. You willfully disobeyed an order and will be punished.” He emphasized it with two more hard whacks against her bottom.

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath.

“For that, I will tack on another ten so now you’re at forty. Want to keep it up and make it fifty?” he dared.

He would do it too. Continue upping the ante to the point where she would have trouble sitting tomorrow. And as much as she loved being disciplined, she also knew when she had pushed a Dom too far. She lowered her forehead to the couch and replied, “No, Sir.”

“Then accept your punishment like a good girl,” he demanded.

His palm cracked against her bottom, peppering her behind with hard swats. Over and over his hand fell. Little did Alex know that she loved discipline. By the fifteenth swat, she was heading into subspace. Her body liquefied beneath his stern hand. And all the pain began to coalesce in her girly bits.

The force of his spanks increased. Her bottom burned, heating from his touch. She panted as her desire spiraled. And she inadvertently tilted her hips up, wanting—needing—more of his masterful touch.

She lost count of the number of strokes to her behind. Her body walked a tightrope. A simple nudge would push her over the edge.

The next swat landed between her cheeks. The pleasure-pain shot straight to her pussy. And she came, hard.

“Oh god!” she cried at the waves of ecstasy bombarding her system. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed this release.

Alex’s hands stilled on her posterior. “I didn’t give you permission to come.”

“Sorry, Sir. I couldn’t help it,” she replied, her body quaking from the force of her orgasm. It was so much better than her vibrator. There was nothing in the world quite like a discipline-induced orgasm.