“Can I...” I hesitated, my courage faltering. “Can I have one kiss? Just one. To hold me over.”
He studied me for what felt like an eternity, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. Then he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to cup my face. My breath caught as he leaned down, his lips hovering just inches from mine.
“No,” he whispered, his breath warm against my mouth. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get rewards for promises. Only for actions.”
The rejection stung, but underneath it was something else… a thrill I’d never felt before. This was a promise of something more. Something deeper than the quick, meaningless hookups I’d been living off of.
“One month,” I repeated, stepping back and forcing myself to drop my hand from his wrist. “No games.”
“No games,” he confirmed, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Go back to the party, Ryder. And stay away from that guy you were with. I don’t trust him.”
I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Jealous?”
Connor’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes flashed. “Concerned. He had his hands all over you in front of everyone. Word gets back to your father, and we all pay the price.”
My smile faded. He was right, again. I’d been reckless, too caught up in trying to make Connor jealous to think about the consequences. “I’ll go straight back to the ranch,” I promised.
He nodded once, then turned away from me, staring back out at the creek. I stood there for a moment longer, memorizing the shape of him in the moonlight, storing it away to get me through the next month.
“Goodnight, Connor,” I said softly.
He didn’t reply, but I hadn’t expected him to. I turned and walked back toward the bonfire, my mind reeling from our conversation. I’d never been told no before, not like that. And I’d never wanted someone more because of it.
Chapter 10
Connor
It was a moment of weakness that made me suggest such a ridiculous deal with Ryder. I knew it was a bad idea. Giving in even that tiny amount left the door wide open for trouble to walk right into my life. Not to mention, Ryder annoyed the piss out of me. But the way he looked at me when I called him a good boy… well, that was enough titillation to get me through every jerk off session in my immediate future.
I’ll admit it. The way his face fell when I saidnoto that kiss was delicious. I could almost see him imagining my lips on his, the anticipation in his eyes right before I denied him. That little pout, the flash of hurt quickly covered by determination. God, it was better than any porn I’d seen in seven years.
And watching him suffer for a month afterwards? Ecstasy.
Ryder was determined, but clearly new to having to wait for anything. I caught him watching me here and there, his eyes lingering on me just a little too long. All it took was a click of my tongue to send him scurrying in the other direction. It was delicious.
But as much as I was enjoying his suffering, I was torturing myself just as much. Every time he followed my rules, looking away when I caught him staring or keeping his distance whenPete wasn’t around, a strange satisfaction bloomed in my chest. I found myself wanting to reward him, to acknowledge his effort with more than just a nod or a knowing look. I’d always been a sucker for a boy that listened well.
I tried to focus on my work, throwing myself into ranch duties with renewed vigor. Larry had taken a liking to me, giving me more responsibility than the other guys. I was grateful for the distraction, but Ryder remained a constant presence in my thoughts.
This was my problem, the same one that had gotten me in trouble before. I enjoyed this kind of exchange far too much. Since I was eighteen, I realized I got off on being the one in charge. Now, I knew, technically, that the submissive person was the one making all the choices. If they called things off, that was it. It was over. But the illusion was what I lived off of. And, in some small way, I enjoyed helping them discover their true selves.
Sure, when I’d first started out, I was mostly getting off on being eighteen and ordering guys around that were sometimes ten to fifteen years older than me. But as I joined the scene and learned what it was actually about, I found myself trying to free people from their own minds. Kind of ironic considering helping the wrong person landed me in prison.
But even now, that didn’t stop me from loving the exchange of power. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was breaking my own rules. And after seven years I just…couldn’tresist.
One evening, about three weeks into our agreement, I was fixing a section of fence near the north pasture when I heard the familiar rumble of an ATV approaching. I tensed, expecting Ryder to pull up with some flimsy excuse for being there. But when I turned, I saw Pete McGrath instead, his face set in its usual stern expression.
“Evening, Connor,” he called, killing the engine.
“Mr. McGrath,” I nodded, setting down my tools. My heart rate kicked up a notch. Pete rarely sought out the ex-cons directly unless there was a problem.
“Larry tells me you’ve been doing exceptional work,” he said, climbing off the ATV with a grunt. “Says you’re the best hand we’ve had in the program for years.”
I shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond to praise from a man who typically regarded us as little more than cheap labor. “Just doing my job, sir.”
Pete studied me, his eyes, nothing like Ryder’s, narrowed slightly. “You were a roper before prison, weren’t you? In some kind of show?”
“Something like that,” I replied carefully.
