Her Cowboy, Her Daddy, page 8
I couldn’t take my eyes off Georgia. The way she stared at Brody with that look in her eyes—it was like she thought he hung the moon. Her body was wrapped around his in a way that wasn’t inappropriate, but somehow sinfully intimate.
Travis spoke again, this time directly to my father. “Mr. Smith, speaking of picking up Bridgette, would you mind if I came tomorrow tonight? Say around seven? A few of us were going out and I’d love for her to join us. I can have her home at a reasonable hour.”
We had plans!
“That’d be fine with me. Bridge?” My dad raised his bushy gray eyebrows at me.
“Sure. Why not?” I shrugged, trying to look casual.
Inside I was jumping up and down. Thursday night out on the town with hot cowboy daddy. Sign me up!
* * *
Thursday, December 4
Dearest Diary,
My mom and I spent the day with her trying to pre-teach me how to make a pie crust, so I wouldn’t make a fool out of myself in front of Alice tomorrow morning. After three failed attempts, she wrote me off as a hopeless case, saying, ‘Oh, well, a career girl can buy her own pies at the city bakery.’ Bless her heart.
I probably could have done a better job at baking, but my mind wasn’t focused on rolling out dough. Instead, I couldn’t let last night’s conversation with Georgia go undocumented.
Just as I was leaving the ranch after dinner, she grabbed me and pulled me aside while Alice and Travis walked my parents to the car.
Georgia: Hey, Bridgette, I’m really glad you came today. It’s nice having another younger female around the ranch for a change. The last time a girl was on the ranch was Regina—and that was months ago.
Me: Regina? Travis’ ex? What happened between them, anyway?
I tried to make my voice sound as casual as possible, putting in a shoulder shrug for good measure. A ball of ice formed in the pit of my stomach at the memory of the look on his face when I thought he was thinking about Regina earlier.
Georgia: Regina—Gina and I were close. We were roommates back in Boise. When she and Travis started dating, we would do everything together, the four of us, whenever she came for the weekend. It was so fun for me and my best friend to be dating brothers. I mean—how cool is that? A double date when you actually like all the people involved. I was almost as broken-hearted as Travis when she called it off. I even tried for a long time to get those two back together—
Me: Sorry to hear that.
(Forgive me for interrupting her… I couldn’t really listen to how wonderful Travis and Regina were together.)
Me: Why aren’t you and Regina close anymore, if you don’t mind my asking?
Georgia: Well, when Gina was losing interest in Travis—
Me: She lost interest?
Georgia: Well, maybe not so much losing interest but there was a tug and pull between them that just wasn’t working. Brody warned me when they first got together it wouldn’t last—two Type A personalities never work—but I wouldn’t hear of it, I was too excited to have my best friend on the ranch with me.
Me: So, Travis is Type A, in what way?
Again—enough about this Gina chick, I wanted to get every bit of info I could on Travis. Who was my man for now, thank you very much.
This is where I should note, Georgia got very uncomfortable. A flush covered her cheeks and she made the most adorable little throat-clearing noise—like a nervous tic or something. At first, I couldn’t figure out what had made her clam up.
Then it hit me! Type A! She was talking about the brothers’ dominant ways—and tendency to spank. So, she was a spanked woman. It was too soon in our relationship for me to confess that Travis had spanked me—just in case I was barking up the wrong tree. I would be mortified if she knew.
Georgia: (little throat-clearing noise again) I… he… Jenkins men… just tend to be a bit… dominant? (Her eyes searched my face but there was no way I was giving up that privileged info—I would wait for her to bring up the ‘s’ word, first) Anyway, after a while their relationship began to get a little tense. Then, Gina stopped coming out to the ranch as much, she was suddenly taking on more shifts at the hospital—she’s a nurse. Later, like a couple of months after they broke up—ah, about the time you came into town, it was Thanksgiving Day—I found out that instead of just breaking things off with Travis, she had been dating other guys behind his back. Not cool. I was shocked—I mean, why cheat on someone? If it’s over, it’s over. Have the decency to tell the other person before you move on. I haven’t talked to her since. Which brings me to my next point… I need to tell you something about Regina.
Me: I’m sorry, Georgia but I really have to go. (Code words for—please, for the love of God, stop talking to me about Travis’ ex!) If it makes you feel any better, my last boyfriend left me for my roommate.
A beautiful blush covered Georgia’s cheeks.
Georgia: I… ah… I think I heard something about that at church a few weeks back (this is where I groaned and face palmed). Anyway, how did you handle it?
Me: Got a studio apartment—first time I’ve ever lived on my own—and booked a trip out here. I had six weeks’ vacation and my boss was all about it. We are running repeats the rest of the year anyway and he is adamant about people not letting their paid vacation days go unused.
Georgia: That’s funny, Travis went on a trip after Gina, too.
Our conversation ended there, with a quick hug.
A thousand questions spun through my mind.
I left the ranch dying to know what the behind-the-scenes story was. Did Brody spank Georgia? Was this some kind of kinky sex ranch? I didn’t get that feeling at dinner—it seemed more like an old-fashioned throwback to a simpler time. Where men ran the household and ladies… baked pies?
And had Travis spanked Regina and she hadn’t liked it?
Was that what Georgia had wanted to tell me about Regina?
And what about the younger brothers? Was Hayes off at college spanking naughty coeds? Colton wasn’t dating—not that I could pick up—but one day when he was, would he be taking a woman over his knees, too?
My diary is starting to feel more like a Harriet the Spy novel than a Bridget Jones one. I’ll keep you updated, diary, and document my findings of CLAS ranch and the hot cowboy brothers who run it.
I have got to go and find a decent outfit to wear out tonight. We are all going out—me, Georgia, and the four (spanko) Jenkins brothers.
Eeek… I get to see my ‘daddy’! Can’t wait!
Signing off,
Bridgette the Spy
* * *
I opted for the skinny jeans, boots, black leather coat, and this time, a tight cranberry V-neck sweater. The color was perfect for December. With the help of my gold Victoria’s Secret pushup bra, my for-now B-cup boobs look fantastic. I threw in a matching G-string, of course—you never know what could happen on vacation!
While I heated my TYME iron, I freshened up my makeup, adding a deep plum lipstick that I threw into my pocket afterward. Then, I pulled my hair out into flowy tendrils with the iron. God—that invention was a lifesaver for unwashed hair.
Assessing myself in the mirror, I gave a congratulatory nod. “Not half bad,” I told myself.
“Briiidgetttte!” my mother called from down the hall. “Travis is here!”
Peeking out my bedroom window, I saw that Travis had swapped his truck out for the cutest little two-door BMW. It was a shiny black color and looked to have been recently waxed.
Like me.
I had taken the time before my shower to torture myself and rip all of my natural hair from my poor pussy—the full Brazilian.
Hey, why not? It was my vacation. Like I said, anything can happen on vacation. Better to be prepared.
Rushing to the front door, I ignored my mother’s look of disapproval at my cleavage. Opening the door revealed a total and absolute hunk of a man. I couldn’t believe he was my daddy for the next few weeks! Lucky me!
“Hi, Travis,” I said demurely while I took him in. The torn Wranglers were back, this time held up by a black leather belt—God, to hear that thing unclicking in the bedroom. His muscular chest was wrapped in a gray ribbed sweater. How I wanted to run my hands over that soft-looking fabric that hugged his skin—
My mother whispered, “Let the man into the house, for goodness’ sake, Bridgette! Where are your manners?”
“Oh… I… uh…” My pussy was throbbing as he brushed past me, his chest making contact with my upper arm. Thank God for the thick padding of my Wonderbra hiding my hard-as-a-rock-fuck-me-now nipples!
“Hello, Bridgette. You look lovely.” He brushed a kiss on my cheek then made his way to the living room, where he sat down in the available La-Z-Boy. He looked quite comfortable.
“Uh… I’m already to go…” I pointed behind me with my thumb to the door that my mother was currently closing. Trapping me in the living room with Travis, my dad, and Alex Trebek.
Travis met my eye. “I thought I’d spend a few minutes getting to know your parents before I take you out. Is that alright with you, Bridgette?” He flashed me a winning smile.
Like I had a choice. I gave a sigh, letting him know I didn’t approve, even though I couldn’t tell him ‘no.’ There was just no telling a man like Travis ‘no.’
“Who is Genghis Khan,” Travis called out to the screen.
He got it right. My dad gave him a thumbs up. My mom sat down on the couch beside me. I had the feeling we were going to be here awhile.
After losing count of how many correct answers he got (including Double Jeopardy and Final Jeopardy) I politely asked, “Can we go now?”
The smile on my mother’s face must have been painful because it stretched from ear to ear. If she had any qualms about Travis before, they had all been erased by his excellent skills at game shows.
“Such a smart man,” she whispered to me as she walked us to the door.
I leaned in, egging her on. “He has his doctorate degree, Mom.”
Her eyes flew open as wide as they would go. “A doctor? My, my, my.” She was practically fanning herself as we walked out the door.
The door closed behind us and finally, we were alone.
“So, where are we headed?” I asked. My boots made a satisfying sound as I tromped over my parents’ concrete driveway to the BMW.
“Bud’s. But, I thought we could fuck, first,” Travis said.
“Excuse me?” I stopped dead in my tracks. My nipples were now as hard as rocks, my gold G-string totally soaked, my pussy begging me to tell her that we had heard Travis correctly.
“You do want to fuck me, right?” he asked, his face curious.
“How’d you know?” I asked.
“It something that all daddies know about their girls—they tend to need a lot of fucking,” he answered.
My chin dropped to my chest, my hands clenched in the pockets of my leather jacket.
“And spanking, of course. But tonight, I know you need me to fuck you. Hard.”
He spoke as if he were listing chores we needed to do. Or the menu for his next family gathering. It was all so matter of fact—it turned me on even more.
“Oh, do I?” I asked casually, making my way to the passenger side of the Beemer. He opened the door for me, gesturing for me to take a seat. I did and he closed the door. I buckled my seatbelt, telling my pussy to ‘cool it.’ I felt like if I didn’t get off soon, she was going to go on strike.
Travis made his way around the front of the car, giving me a view of his muscular ass in those jeans, then opened his door. He slid into his red and black leather seat with the suaveness of Luke Perry—I had the flu last year and had binge-watched every single episode of this show called Beverly Hills, 90210 that was on before my time. Luke Perry had been my crush for the whole month of last December.
My heart palpitated. The smell of his cologne filled the car. We were sitting only inches from one another.
“Yes. You look as if you need a proper fuck.”
Oh. My. God. Discreetly I pinched my own arm under my jacket. It hurt. This was not a dream.
Trying to breathe, I willed the redness I could feel creeping up my neck to recede. “Is that so?”
“That is so.” His hand rested lightly on my thigh as he put the car into drive. My knees parted slightly, my breath catching in my throat as his hand smoothed its way up my thigh.
I sat there, trying to breathe, smelling the musky scent of my own arousal. Travis pulled the car off onto a secluded road. He put it into park, leaving it running and turned the interior lights on. He looked over at me as if he wanted to consume me.
I was suddenly very, very nervous.
“Wait! I don’t even know anything about you. I mean I know a little bit about you and I’ve met your entire family, but—”
Ignoring me, he leaned over the console. His kissed my neck, getting right down to that sweet spot by my clavicle. He started nibbling and sucking on the tender skin and I lost my breath for a moment. “What else do you need to know?” he murmured between bites.
“What’s your favorite color?” I breathed.
Grabbing my breast in his hand and squeezing it, he said, “The shade your bare ass turns when I spank it.”
“Oh, my God,” I moaned, his words making me wet.
He licked my earlobe. “I loved it when I was spanking you at the church—it’s a glorious color. I can spank it right now and see if it’s as pretty as I remember.”
I laughed a breathy, throaty laugh. I was so turned on. And yet… I needed things to slow down. I put my hand on his chest. “No… I want to know more about you. Travis, I’m serious.”
He stopped. He removed his body from mine and returned to his seat. He thought for a moment before he spoke. “Alright, but only ten questions—and you have to answer them as well. Then I’m fucking you. Go.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“May tenth.”
“Mine is June seventh. What’s your middle name?”
“Cash.”
“Like Johnny Cash?”
“Nope. Just like you aren’t Bridget from the movie.” He tugged on a curl. Swoon. “What’s yours?”
“Ann. Favorite food?”
“Hayes’ vanilla ice cream. When I was away at school, he would always make an extra tub for me and hide it in the deep freezer under the broccoli. My family hates broccoli. And yours is your mother’s meatloaf.”
“How’d you know that?” I asked.
“She told me. She also told me that she’d make me one. Next question, I can’t wait much longer,” he said, eyeing my breasts in my sweater.
“Favorite season?”
“I don’t have a favorite, but I like the time when you can feel the first hint of each one the best. Nothing like the first snow of winter, first crisp day of fall. And that time in spring when the plants begin to grow.”
“I’m a summer baby, and I’ve always loved summer. I hate being cold,” I said.
Travis’ eyebrows wiggled. “I could warm you up.”
I decided to cut the fluff. If I was really going to get to know Travis, I would have to ask some tough questions. “Worst day of your life?”
Clouds formed in his dark eyes. “The day my dad died. That’s all I want to say about that one.”
“Oh, sorry. Ah… well, for me it was the day my grandmother died,” I said.
“My turn—what brought you to Little Peak? It’s no LA, that’s for sure.” There was a bitter note in his tone when he spoke.
I said, “A bad breakup. Accumulated vacation days. And my parents, of course. I hadn’t been to see their new house yet as they’d been here three months. What about you? You told my mom you’d only been back in town for two weeks. Where were you?” I asked.
“After I graduated doctoral school, I traveled a bit. My plan all along had been to come back to Little Peak and help Brody with the ranch, but sometimes this small town closes in on me. I traveled a little longer than I had planned, but I knew as soon as I pulled into CLAS I had made the right choice. Where do you see yourself in five years?”
Over your knee? Having your babies? I decided to go with the geographical answer. “I… ah… I don’t really know. I love the show, I love my job, I even like my postage-sized apartment. But sometimes I feel a little lonely in LA, or out of place. I don’t know if I will still be there in five years or not. How about you?”
“On the ranch, married, maybe a couple of kids,” he said with a shrug.
That’s what I wanted too, but I hadn’t wanted to scare him away. I clumsily mumbled, “Oh, yeah. Well, I’d like to be married too, maybe one day. And kids.”
“How many kids?” he asked.
“Uh… I don’t know… what’s a good number?” I asked.
“Dunno. I never thought about it till I just asked you. Any tattoos?” he asked.
“Nope. You?”
“You sure? Let me check…” He leaned over, peeking down my sweater.
I batted him away. “Wait, I have one more question—”
“Nope, that’s ten…” He reached down, tugging at the neckline of my shirt. “Remember? The answer to the first question was that my favorite color is your ass when it’s been spanked and now I get to see it.”
I slapped his hand away. “That one didn’t count! That was before.”
Frustrated, he slumped back down in his seat, running a hand through his short hair.
“Okay… last one, little girl,” he growled.
Every other question was just a warm-up. Practice round for me trying to get brave enough to ask the one I needed to hear the answer to, before I could sleep with him. “When… when did you first know that you… liked me?”
The aggravated expression left his face.
He turned in his seat so that he was facing me. His hand reached out and grabbed mine. “Honestly… I know it sounds unrealistic, but you had my eye from the moment you came in that bar. The way you sashayed in all sassy like you owned the place. Throwing your five onto the counter and sucking down that beer like it was a water bottle—I knew you were trouble. The good kind. I couldn’t believe it when you… kissed me. I know I didn’t kiss you back, but I felt something… an electricity when you touched me. Then there was that look of surprise on your face when I called you out—it was beyond adorable. When you followed me into the alley and let me kiss you, I knew I was hooked. I was hoping you’d be at church on Sunday. And, if you weren’t, I was going straight to your house after the service to find you. I had to see you again.”
