Tethered (A Dark Erotic Romance)(Book 2) (The Stables Trilogy) Read online

  “And never disobey J.B., right?” She probed.

  He was suddenly very invested in his food.

  “Why’d you tell him?”

  “Why did you groom Bane?” He snapped back. “After he almost killed you, too!”

  “A rattlesnake almost killed me, Raúl. Not Bane.”

  Raúl put his plate down, disgusted. “Why can’t you just do what he says?”

  “Because in this case, well, I think J.B. is wrong.”

  His hands ran through his hair, tugging it hard. “It doesn’t matter what you think! He owns this ranch. He owns Bane.”

  Somewhere in her, she understood what Raúl was saying. And knowing that he’d been saved by J.B. and his father probably inspired the loyalty he was showing. It was admirable. But there was something else there. “He doesn’t own us, Raúl.”

  This earned her a glare. “Don’t even say that shit, Maple.”

  Neither spoke. Maple didn’t say what she wanted. That she wished J.B. would own her. She could picture herself as his prize pony. Working for him during the day and under his harsh hand at night. Yet even if he owned her in the primal way she wanted, she’d still feel as she did for Bane.

  Raúl relented first, unable to bear quiet for long. “It’s still light outside, want to go for a ride?”

  Not really. The thought of sitting in a saddle with my tanned backside sounds like torture. Maple was a people pleaser, though, and she needed to mend this with Raúl. Especially with her relationship to J.B. in limbo, she wanted a friend.

  “Sure, but I’m tired, so I’ll probably take Bonnie, and we’ll make it slow?”

  Raúl shrugged and went to saddle Justice. In Bonnie’s stall, the gentle horse was nosing her feedbag. “Shhh,” Maple whispered as she came in. “Feel like getting out, Bonnie? Stretching your legs?”

  Her hand stroked the horse’s neck and flank, soothing and guiding her out. Maple grabbed the saddle and placed it on Bonnie’s back. Her fingers flew effortlessly as she hooked and belted all of the straps. The ease of it reminded her of J.B. as he’d dressed Leslie that first night in the other stable.

  That night, Maple had been certain J.B. was keeping women captive and hurting them. As he’d convinced her otherwise, he’d also shown her how he dressed them. It had been quick, something he’d obviously done hundreds of times before.

  Suppressing the memory, Maple double checked to make sure Bonnie was well padded and the saddle secure. Her favorite horse deserved her undivided attention.

  Leading her out, she and Raúl hopped up and set off at a mild gate. Justice tossed his head a few times, obviously eager to move quicker. As soon as Raúl clucked, though, he settled more comfortably into the easy pace.

  It was dusk. Still early, really. Winter was coming to a close on the ranch, and the days were getting longer. Maple could see her breath in the air, the crispness of the night making her shiver. She leaned down and pressed a cheek to Bonnie’s warm neck. The smell of horse was like heaven.

  Raúl cut a dashing figure, his dark silhouette cast against a bruised sky. Not for the first time, Maple wished she were different. She wished that she could fall for someone like Raúl. Her riding partner would never beat her and then make her come so hard it was difficult to walk afterward. He wouldn’t send mixed messages.

  Despite the soft pace, riding was quickly becoming a strain on Maple. Her legs stretched open over the saddle pulled the denim of her jeans taut. The friction of moving up and down as they plodded along was excruciating.

  Pinpricks dotted her vision, her ass hurt so much. Finally, she knew she needed to call it. “Hey, I’m feeling beat-- think we could turn back?”

  They hadn’t gone for much of a ride, and she expected Raúl to protest in his friendly way, but he just nodded and wheeled Justice around. As they rode back, Maple needed something to distract her from the pain.

  “So, do you plan on working for J.B. forever?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, without proper documentation or citizenship, there isn’t much else I can do.”

  Below her, Bonnie’s breathing was a little erratic. Maple stroked the horse and slowed them more. It wasn’t hard to remember that she was old, but Maple was surprised Bonnie was struggling after so short a ride. “What would you do if you had citizenship?”

  His laugh cut through the quickly descending night. “Probably ranch, Belleza. But I’d want to own my own, you know? I like this life, but I have no way to move up and out. It’s J.B. or Mexico, and I don’t know anyone there. When my parents died, they took our family connections with them.”

  While he said it in a lighthearted way, it still hurt Maple. She hated that he was tied to Deyton Ranch. It was a good place to work, of course. The meals were regular and filling, the accommodations comfortable. But she shouldn’t have worried about the women in the stable; they weren’t the captives.

  Raúl and Mariela were. Trapped here, shackled by forces they couldn’t have altered if they’d tried.

  Not knowing what to say, she opted for a simple “I’m sorry.”

  Raúl hopped off Justice and ran inside to turn on the lights to the stable. “I’ll get him ready,” he offered, leading the horse to his stall. She got the impression he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  As she swung down and off Bonnie, she felt the horse falter a bit. Gripping the reins and placing a steadying hand on her flank, Maple bit her lip.

  “Are you okay, girl? Feeling a little under the weather? Let’s go get some carrots.” Leading slowly, she guided the horse into the stall. Bonnie’s flank clipped the door on her way in, causing Maple to gasp. The distress of Bonnie’s stumble erased any attention Maple had been paying to her own pain.

  “Everything all right?” Raúl came in behind.

  Maple started brushing her down. “No, I think maybe she’s sick. Will you grab some carrots?”

  She worked carefully, pouring as much love as she could into caring for the horse. Raúl came back and offered a carrot while Maple grabbed a clean blanket to ward off the chill of the night. When there was nothing left to do for Bonnie, Maple kissed her nose and walked out.

  It was then that the radiating heat from her ass demanded attention. Raúl sucked in his breath.

  “What the hell is wrong with your ass?”

  She whipped to look at him, eyes large. “Excuse me?”

  “Your ass and thighs, Maple. They’re bleeding.”

  Awkwardly kicking a leg back and straining to look over a shoulder, Maple saw that he was right. Riding must have opened some of the welts. Now thin trails of blood crisscrossed her jeans. “It’s fine. I just need a shower.” Her cheeks burned and she tried to walk away.

  Raúl caught her wrist and stopped her. “No. If your cuts are open, we need to treat them.”

  Maple’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to see if she had heard right. He wasn’t shocked? Going to ask questions? Did he just want to look at her ass?

  “It’s okay. Really. There’s no need.”

  “Stop arguing and come with me to my room. I have some ointment.”

  He began to lead her away, tugging at her hand. Maple tripped on her boots. She shook her wrist, trying to free herself. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea--”

  He whipped around and stared at her. Raúl’s eyes were black and hard. “For the love of God, Maple, I’m not trying to hit on you! You’ve made it abundantly clear that isn’t happening! Just come and let me clean your cuts before you get an infection. Do you want an infection in your ass?”

  Well, when you put it that way.

  Obediently she followed. Besides, she really did hurt, and if he had something that could help, she wanted it. Maple was curious to see Raúl’s room, too.

  It was on the other side of the house, far from her own room. The small cottage wasn’t attached, standing just to the side of the large main house. It was simple, the same kind of straight ranch-style lines as the main house, with a door and windows on the fr
ont.

  Inside was a small apartment. “I share it with Mariela. She’ll still be cleaning up, though. This way.”

  Inside his room, she was delighted to find a pretty typically male setup. Posters of soccer players. A computer that she knew he barely had time to be on. His bed wasn’t made, the sheets twisted. Piles of clothing that she dodged as she stepped in behind him.

  It was comfortable and sweet.

  “Take your pants off and lie face down on the bed,” Raúl ordered, grabbing a bag off of a bookshelf.

  Maple’s cheeks ignited at that. “Uh--”

  When he speared her with an angry gaze, though, she did as he said. Laying her cheek on the cotton, she caught a heady whiff of male from the sheets. It smelled like deodorant and soap. The air felt good on the weeping cuts.

  “This is going to sting. A lot.”

  “Go for it.” She pressed her face into the mattress. The last time Raúl had treated her wounds, it had made Maple hot enough to let him make out with her. That had been some small cuts on her hand. This was enormous welts on her backside. Enormous and obvious.

  And of course, he couldn’t not say anything. “He did this to you, didn’t he?”

  It wasn’t really a question, because they both knew it was true. “He was pissed about Bane.”

  Raúl grunted noncommittally. “I’m sorry I said anything, then.”

  I’m not, she thought as she remembered J.B.’s rough fingers on her clit. Something cold and lavender-scented swiped across her thighs. She cried out, letting the mattress muffle the sound.

  “Sorry. Witch Hazel and some lavender. It can act as an astringent.”

  It took Herculean effort not to writhe and roll her hips as he worked. Maple tried not to think about the fact that Raúl was just staring at her bare ass right now. He was looking at where J.B. had marked her. She tried not to think about where those marks had come from, because she couldn’t afford to get majorly turned on.

  As his fingers started to spread a new, cool gel on after, Maple couldn’t help but moan. It did feel better. Whatever he was coating her cuts with had a numbing agent. Blissful relief spread under his confident touch.

  “How do you know about this?” His lack of surprise was startling.

  “Mariela.”

  Wincing, Maple popped up on her forearms and twisted to look at him. Inside, envy was coming out of its cage, teeth gnashing and ready to shred her from the inside out. “He hit her?” She wished the question didn’t come out so strangled sounding.

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead focusing on his work. “Only once. Remember when I told you Mariela tried to help him? Like you are?”

  She nodded. “Well, I don’t know how far it went. She’s my sister, so I kind of don’t want to know. But I know that I saw her after he whipped her, and I went crazy.”

  Smearing more ointment on, his thumbs began to rub absent-minded circles into her ass cheeks. It felt a little too good, but Maple didn’t want to interrupt his story. “What then?”

  “He’s my boss. My friend, sometimes. I look up to him in a lot of ways and--”

  “You don’t question him.”

  This did earn her a sharp glance. “Right. But I warned him not to lay a fucking hand on my sister, or we’d be done.”

  “He could have kicked you out. Or had you deported.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Mariela’s all I’ve got, though, and damned if I’m going to let her be whipped by some son-of-a-bitch in mourning.”

  The thumbs began to work deeper, forcing Maple to shift away. She rolled off the bed and pulled her pants up. “This was right after Rachel died?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It wasn’t that long ago, was it?”

  “No.”

  “What about Mariela? What did she want? Did she… did she want J.B.?”

  Raúl flopped back on his bed, resting his hands behind his head. “Nah, she didn’t want him. She was trying to find a way out, and thought if he’d teach her, maybe she could start her own business.”

  “How would that even work?”

  He smiled. “No offense, Maple, but just think about it. While the women sign up for that crazy shit, the business isn’t exactly something where legality is a concern. Mariela could make a killing, and no one would give a damn about her nationality. She was so pissed when she found out I’d said something. But I’m content here.”

  “So that’s why J.B. turned her down.”

  Raúl shut his eyes. “Yeah. That, and I think he knew he was just trying to hide from his grief.”

  Maple shifted around. Her skin felt much better. The numbing agent made moving tolerable, and her backside didn’t feel as hot, either. “What was Rachel like?”

  She was prying again, but she couldn’t help it. Plus, she was so relieved to hear about Mariela and J.B. Maple needed to get her jealousy under control. Wasn’t she here because of his attention in the first place? And hadn’t he just whipped her--

  Raúl never answered. Deep snores filled the room. Smirking, Maple covered him and left quietly, her mind filling with new questions.

  She wished sleep came as easily for her as it did for him.

  Chapter Eight

  “Tonight I want you to watch me, Maple.” J.B.’s low timber pulled her from her thoughts. He didn’t look at her as he said it, and she felt her pulse quicken. Just the two of them?

  Maple had spent the day worrying about Bonnie. The horse seemed normal, loving on Maple and trying to nose out more carrots from her pockets. The stumble had hopefully just been a fluke. It was hard to admit, but it was probably time to retire Bonnie from all rides, even the gentle ones.

  “Um, okay?” His eyes narrowed. “Okay! I’m watching you.”

  Something was changing between them, and Maple liked it.

  Frowning, he led out the pony girl named Eden. Eden had long, straight, shiny, black hair. Her body was willowy, with tiny breasts that gravity would never claim.

  “There’s going to be some important customers at the show. Wealthy. I figure if you can cut down my time getting the ponies ready to present, I can make the sale better.” Eden whinnied, pleased at this.

  You’re hopeless, you know. Just because he made you come doesn’t mean he wants you. He didn’t let you touch him, did he?

  He didn’t. In fact, while she came hard, J.B. had taken no pleasure from her. Hadn’t forced her to please him. Or asked. Nothing. Just fucked her with his hand, forcing her to feel the rawness from the switch as he did, and then kicked her out.

  “Show me what to do,” she mumbled, stepping next to Eden. She tracked each piece of hard wear as he slid, strapped, and cinched it on. Bit. Then bridle. Followed by a body harness. This was the first time she’d seen it put in full use. Leather straps decorated Eden’s elegant, slim shoulders. They tightened around her small breasts, then dropped and wrapped around her torso and hips. A bar was slipped through loops in the harness behind Eden. Her elbows hooked over it and it nestled in their groove. J.B. cuffed her there, locking her arms behind her. This forced her back to arch and her chest to be thrust forward. It was simple and beautiful.

  Finally, Eden bent at the waist, preparing to be tailed.

  Maple was familiar now with the steel plugs. The hair that flowed from them had been dyed to match each woman’s hair, creating the illusion of mane and tail. Up until this point, Maple had only removed and cleaned the tails. Now J.B. expected her to learn how to put them in as well.

  She should have been paying closer attention to his hands as they grabbed the tail and a large bottle of lube. He squirted a large amount on the steel plug before positioning it at Eden’s puckered hole.

  J.B. was saying “Because the ponies wear the tails so often and for so long, there isn’t much resistance when you--”

  But Maple wasn’t really listening, and she wasn’t paying attention as he began to push the tail in. The sounds of Eden’s grunts didn’t register much, either. Her focus was completely on J.B.’s
face as he tailed the pony girl.

  It was blank. There truly was no emotion in it as he shoved a steel plug up this girl’s ass. He could just as easily be teaching her how to clean a toilet, or how to write with a pencil. Like this was an everyday common activity.

  For him, though, it was.

  The thing that bruised her, though, was that it was the same face that had brutally brought her to orgasm. No emotions.

  Maple shivered.

  He handed her the reins. They felt light and soft in her hands.

  “Lead her on the left. Go to the cone, execute a turn, and come back.” The riding crop in his hand was tapping against his well-muscled thigh.