The Cowboy Poet by Claire Thompson

Author:Claire Thompson [Thompson, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Tyler looked from Clint to Jonas and back to Clint, his heart suddenly in his throat. He‘d been so focused on researching his story and writing up his notes that he‘d almost forgotten the sexy promise of the spanking.

He stood, backing away from the two cowboys, a nervous grin breaking out on his face. Gosh, he said, stalling for time. I was so busy today. My mind‘s been on other things.

That‘s okay, Clint said, his dark eyes gleaming. He stood as well. We remembered for you. Might as well take it like a man.

Yes, indeed, Jonas said, rubbing his big hands together with such exaggerated glee that it made Tyler laugh, despite the bubbles of nervousness that had suddenly popped into his stomach. You can throw a punch like a man—let‘s see how well you take what‘s comin‘ to ya‘.

You‘ll have to catch me first, old man! With a laugh, Tyler turned, making a sudden sprint toward the copse of trees that edged the property.

He must be talkin‘ bout you, Jonas, Clint laughed.

Oh, yeah? Jonas roared in mock anger. You‘re gonna pay for that one, blondie!, Moving faster than his girth should have allowed, in seconds Jonas was on Tyler, catching him from behind in a bear hug that actually lifted Tyler off the ground.

You‘re gonna pay for that old man comment, Jonas bellowed. Tyler tried to twist out of the strong man‘s arms, but dissolved into embarrassed laughter when Jonas blew raspberries on the back of his neck.

When Jonas set him down Tyler twisted suddenly, ready to sprint away again, but this time Clint was right there in front of him, blocking his retreat. All three of them were laughing as they tussled, but Tyler was no match for the two of them.

Between them, they wrestled the still struggling and laughing Tyler back to the wide bench. Clint sat down on one end of the bench and maneuvered Tyler across his knees. The bench was low enough that Tyler‘s head nearly touched the grass on one side of Clint, his ass on Clint‘s lap, his legs stretched out along the bench.

Jonas knelt down on one knee in a kind of crouch in front of Tyler‘s head, catching his wrists in one big paw. Tyler pulled against Jonas‘ iron grip, a sudden clutch of panic rising in his gut. While he couldn‘t deny that something about being held down as he was sent a jolt of pure lust hurtling through his cock, at the same time he knew deep down it was wrong. What was it that made him long for this type of rough treatment? What sickness lingered inside him that made it, for him, so much more than a game?

Tyler lifted his head, locking eyes for a moment with the big man, wondering if Jonas, or Clint for that matter, had any idea of the depths of his need to feel the pain and submit to the humiliation. If they knew, would they still be laughing?

Lucky boy, Jonas mouthed, winking broadly at Tyler, and Tyler knew for certain that for him it was just a game.

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