Adult excerpt 2, The Wild Bunch: Stace

The Wild Bunch: Stace by Deirdre O'Dare www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/

Excerpt 2, Adult, mild BDSM

Jared hunched on the log bench staring into the campfire. Is this vacation going to be what I need or not? Even knowing the notion to be stupid, he felt naked without his cell phone. A dozen drastic scenarios lurched though his mind. What if any one of a thousand potential catastrophes happened at Montague and no one could reach him?
Those nagging worries dampened any pleasure he might have found in the scrumptious steak with all the cowboy fixings, in the amusing tall tales interspersed with guitar solos played by the handsome Latino cowboy and the old and new country ballads warbled by the tall, blond wrangler. Congenial company, a good meal and pleasant if not stellar entertainment. What more could he possibly want? That was a question he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to answer.
He almost jumped out of his skin when a firm hand settled on his shoulder. “Don’t look like you’re havin’ fun here, Jared. What do you say we take a little ride through the hills and maybe find some other entertainment?”
He glanced up at Stace, the black wrangler who’d picked him up at the airport and seemed to have made Jared his special charge.
Jared shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He knew he’d be ridiculously petty to hold the cell phone confiscation against the cowboy, who no doubt had only followed ranch rules. If Jared had a beef, it would be with the absent owner and boss. Maybe he’d have a chance to confront that man later. For now, he didn’t mind some more time in the handsome and pleasant young man’s company. Who knew where it might lead?
Stace led Jared to the picket line where their mounts had been resting and untied both horses. He waited while Jared mounted the buckskin before he swung up on the Paint.
“Don’t have too far to go, just up on this ridge here,” the cowboy said. After a moment, he went on. “You familiar with any Native American customs?”
“Not too many. My company has released a couple of documentary presentations, but I wasn’t involved in the actual filming and recording. Never had time to look into that stuff, although the old west and all its traditions interested me when I was younger.”
“Maybe you’d enjoy spending a night in a real authentic Lakota tipi then and a little taste of the ghost dance. Just happens one of my great-grandpas was a buffalo soldier who took up with a Native woman, daughter of one of the scouts who worked with the U.S. Cavalry back in those days. That means I have a little Apache in me along with my African ancestry.”
Despite his sense of gloom, Jared could not help a shimmer of interest. Now that he thought about it, he could see a trace of Indian in Stace’s striking face. Maybe this would be a real adventure after all.
It took them about half an hour to reach the top of the ridge. On a small flat there, a traditional hide tipi stood, the doorway facing eastward to overlook a panoramic view of southern New Mexico. Stace moved quickly to settle the horses, brought the saddles inside and then turned to Jared.
“Get naked, paleface. If you plan to become a real blood brother, you need to dedicate yourself to the native spirits in a ghost dance.”
For a breath, Jared hesitated. Then he undressed, stacking his clothes neatly to one side.
Meanwhile, Stace lit a small fire in a stone ring at the center of the tipi where the smoke rose cleanly through the opening at the top. By its flickering glow, Jared glanced around the interior. If the structure held anything of the twenty-first century, he could not see it. A few striped blankets lay folded on what looked like real hair-on hides. To one side, some clay pots sat near a couple of primitive looking bows and quivers of arrows. A leather shield painted with crude buffalo and horse images leaned against the wall.
Then Jared noticed a tripod toward the back. Three stout poles had been lashed together to create three-cornered shape that barely fit beneath the tipi’s towering peak. Several ropes or thongs hung from the central binding. Stace shoved him toward the area beneath the poles. Grasping both of Jared’s arms, he spun him around and then lashed him firmly to two of the tripod legs.
Taking two of the dangling thongs that ended in spring clips, the cowboy snapped one on each of Jared’s nipples. The pinch, though a bit painful, also aroused Jared. His cock sprang to life. Nothing he could do would stop it. He glanced at the cowboy to see how he reacted.
Face impassive, Stace reached to collect two more thongs, these ending in neat nooses.
The first he looped over Jared’s balls and drew up firmly. Then he grasped Jared’s cock in one hand and slid a noose over the tip, drawing it snug right behind the head Again, Jared felt mild pain, but it was more exciting than distressing.
“What the fuck?”
“Ghost dance,” Stace answered. ”In the old days we’d have cut your skin and put bone skewers through it and then slowly tightened each of the thongs until you were dancin’ on your toes. We’re more civilized now. Stay put. I’ll be back in a little while.” He stooped to gather Jared’s clothes before he pushed through the crossed panels of leather at the doorway and disappeared.
For a split second, panic rushed through Jared. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he just leaves me here? Even if I can get loose, I’m bare-assed and I sure don’t want to try to ride that way! And that’s supposing he leaves me a horse…
Although it seemed like hours, Jared realized probably no more than twenty minutes elapsed before Stace returned. When the cowboy entered the tipi this time, he wore only a leather breechclout, a string of beads and claws around his neck and a beaded headband with three feathers stuck into it. If they were not real eagle feathers, someone had deftly dyed them to look like they were. Jared’s breath caught in his throat. If Stace looked good in his regular cowboy attire, he looked a hundred times better now.
Barefoot, Stace made no sound as he prowled a circle in the tipi and finally came to stand directly in front of Jared.
Jared tried not to flinch as Stace reached past him. The cowboy gave each of the four thongs a swift jerk so they vibrated like guitar strings. Jared hadn’t realized he’d sagged a bit as his legs got tired. His bound arms took part of his weight, but the thongs had drawn tight. Pain and excitement sizzled along his nerves. The old phrase “hurt so good” flashed across his mind. He sensed himself totally at the other man’s mercy, a realization that both thrilled and shocked him. Jared Langford, arrogant executive, could no longer even pretend to be in charge.
Yes! This is what I’ve hoped and longed for… Maybe not this specific scenario, but the feeling, the atmosphere. He shivered with anticipation. He had no idea what would happen next, but he suspected it would be arousing, titillating, even overpowering beyond his wildest dreams. Almost holding his breath, he waited.