Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(4)

club, it’s not a permanent lifestyle choice for me. I know Murphy and Layla are happy

living the life twenty-four/seven. I suspect Cody and Trace will eventually find a

permanent submissive. No judgment from me. But Christ, Ben, I don’t wanna put a damn

slave collar on a woman. I don’t want her to kneel at my feet. All I want is a lover

who’s sexually open-minded and lets me call the shots when we’re getting busy.”



Ben pointed his beer bottle at Sully. “Which is why we both joined this club in the

first place. Neither of us was finding that open-mindedness in the regular dating

world.”


“Don’t remind me.”


“You need a reminder, because I remember those days, pretending a quick f*ck-and-suck

hookup satisfied me. I got goddamn tired of feelin’ like a deviant for what I did want

from the women who shared my bed. So while I understand where you’re coming from, I

also ain’t gonna kid myself that I’ll ever find the type of woman I want outside of a

club like this.”


Sully whistled. “That’s a harsh answer.”


“But it’s a no bullshit answer. It was…liberating when I stopped lying to myself

that my membership in this club was temporary.”


Sully’s astute gaze pinned him in place. “You looking for a permanent sub too?”


“Even if I was, I doubt I’d find one.”


“That’s not an answer.”


“Says the lawyer,” Ben drawled. “So, why haven’t you asked the redhead out?”


“Scared to. What if I find out she’s a kindergarten teacher who reads to the elderly

in her spare time?” Sully dropped his voice. “Would I be able to f*ck her as hard and

raw as I did before? Or what if the attraction only makes sense in the club?”


“I hear ya. Which is why I haven’t played with a woman from this club, outside the

club, for a while.”


“A while?” Sully repeated with confusion.


“Can you blame me after what happened with Zoe?”


“No. Hell, I’d forgotten about her.”


“Wish I could,” Ben muttered. Zoe had been sweet at first, and he’d even taken her

to his house—which was a rarity. Didn’t take long to discover she needed far more

pain in her sex play than he was comfortable dishing out. Zoe preferred to be caned.

Not occasionally, but as a prelude to every sexual encounter. And she hadn’t wanted

the marks only on her ass; she’d demanded them on her legs, arms and back.


When Ben refused to beat her that severely, Zoe turned nasty, threatening to blab far

and wide about Ben’s sexual appetites. That’s when he’d discovered she lived in his

hometown. Ben feared how much damage that type of rumor could do to him—a man who

fiercely guarded his privacy, especially within his enormous family and within the

conservative ranching community. The only reason she hadn’t blabbed was under threat

of expulsion from the club. And luckily, she’d been scarce in recent months. Still,

Ben had asked himself if the misstep he’d made with her had been his fault. If he’d

just talked to her honestly, would it have had a positive outcome for both of them?