Page 3 of The Cowboy's Ultimatum

“It is to me. I don’t understand why she doesn’t want your help, but you have to get through to her. At the very least she should tell you why she’s so against it.”

“I can’t figure it out either, but you’re right, this can’t go on. The minute I start talking to her about Daisy she turns intoanother person. And it’s not a person I like very much,” he added, lowering his voice.

“Then you need to take control of things before it really screws up your relationship.”

“Annie, you’re right. Her trainer’s comin’ here tomorrow to give her a lesson. At least I’ll be able to see what’s goin’ on with that mare firsthand.”

“That’s great, and you’ll be able to talk to her trainer directly.”

“I wish I could, but I’ve been asked not to do that.”

“Do what? Have a conversation?”

“Yep.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I agree, but I’ll have to play this by ear, and honestly, I’m not lookin’ forward to it.”

“Molly! No!”

“Annie? What’s goin’ on?”

“I can’t believe it. She’s managed to open the pantry door. I have to go. But if you need back up I’m here.”

“I know, thanks, Annie. I’ll keep you posted.”

Ending the call and sipping his beer, he flashed back to his college days, and the deliciously decadent times he’d spent with a young woman named Janet Murphy.

She’d been into bondage and spanking, and he’d been happy to oblige. While they’d wanted very different things in life and inevitably parted company, he often yearned for the salacious sex life they’d shared.

“If anyone needs a trip over my knee it’s you, Helen Rutherford,” he muttered to himself.

It had been an idle remark, but his cock immediately stiffened at the thought. Carrying his beer into the bedroom, he quickly undressed, moved into his bathroom and stepped into the shower stall. With the hot water running over him, he tookhold of his hardness and let his imagination take flight. He could see himself arguing with Helen in the living room, and as she started throwing her usual hissy fit he gave her an ultimatum.

“If you keep this up, Helen I’ll spank your ass.”

“The hell you will.”

Closing his eyes he imagined he was striding towards her, grabbing her arm and jerking her over the back of the couch. As he hastily pulled down her stretch jeans and panties she tried to kick out and cursed him over her shoulder. Ignoring her protests, he began slapping her backside evoking yelps and squeals. Picturing her curvaceous, naked cheeks turning red sent the blood pumping through his loins.

His climax abruptly loomed.

With the erotic images still dancing in his head, he urgently stroked his hardness. Moments later, letting out a long, deep, guttural groan, he surrendered to the powerful convulsions.

* * *

Helen lived only a short distance away in one of several guest cottages located on what had once been a farm. Deciding to leave the crime and craziness of the city, her wealthy parents had purchased the property and carried out extensive renovations, including the addition of several cabins for visiting guests.

Helen had laid claim to one of them.

Initially she’d enjoyed the quiet, open spaces, but after a few months she began missing the excitement the city offered. Now she would often stay over at the family’s penthouse when she trailered her mare up to a English Hunter/Jumper barn for lessons.

But there was something else she missed.

It was a deep, dark secret.

A biker called Killer Kenny.

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