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I write about about cowboys, especially erotic cowboys. Especially how inventive they are in bed. The third book in my Rawhide series, Bite the Bullet, s a hot BDSM novel that I loved writing. But did you ever wonder where the expression “bite the bullet” came from?
According to Wikipedia (that fount of all knowledge real and otherwise), to “bite the bullet” is to endure a painful or otherwise unpleasant situation that is seen as unavoidable. The phrase was first Rudyard Kipling in his 1891 novel The Light that Failed. Historically it refers to the practice of having a patient clench a bullet in his or her teeth as a way to cope with the extreme pain of a surgical procedure without anesthetic.
So is it true or is it just ‘believed’? Another theory is that patients undergoing surgery would be given a stick of wood or a pad of leather to bite on in order to concentrate their attention away from the pain and also to protect against biting their own tongues. A bullet, being somewhat more supple and of softer material would not be as likely to break the patient’s teeth. Of course, there was always the chance of lead poisoning but that was thought to be the lesser of two evils.
How many westerns have you see where surgery was conducted everywhere from a dining room table to the open range, with the injured person being told to “bite the bullet?” When I wrote the third book in my Rawhide series, a series that explores the world of BDSM, I decided to adapt the phrase. Montana Steele, a beautiful Domme, favors a gag for her subs shaped like a bullet. And why not, since they are located in the heart of the Hill Country Ranching and Hunting communities?
Here’s a little taste of the book for you:
Montana Steele hoped her new job was a new start. At Rawhide, the private bondage club, she would find willing subs who fit neatly into one compartment of her life. Clint Chavez, part owner of Rawhide, was determined to never again involve himself emotionally in a relationship. But neither expected the fireworks that erupted between them, nor the erotic attraction that would bind them together despite their best efforts.
And the man walking in front of her probably had the finest ass she’d seen in a long time. His slacks had obviously been custom-tailored, and she could see the flex of muscle as he walked. More cream drenched her already soaked thong as an image of that ass exposed to her special cane popped into her brain to tease her.
They passed the performance area as well as the hallway to what Montana knew had to be the private rooms before reaching a heavy carved door. Clint pulled a key from his pocket to unlock it, then opened it and stood aside for her to enter.
The room had a warm personality, with rich chocolate carpeting, soft beige walls, and tastefully framed erotic art on the walls. A massive oak desk and credenza were angled into one corner, with two armchairs upholstered in butter-soft leather facing them. In another corner was a long couch matching the chairs, and mounted so they could easily be seen were flat screens that obviously connected to a club security system. Montana saw views of the lounge, the hallway to the rooms, the entrance hall, and the performance rooms.
“I think it’s important to keep an eye on what’s happening,” he told her, noticing her glance at the screens. “Devyn is an excellent manager, but ultimately, Reece and I are responsible for what happens here. I don’t like to leave things to chance.” He gestured toward a chair. “Please. Sit down. Would you like something to drink?”
Yes, she would. Her mouth was dry as dust, but as edgy as she suddenly was, she was sure she’d probably spill it all over his desk so she just shook her head.
“All right, then.” He sat down in the big desk chair, opened a file, and slid two sheets of paper toward her. ”This is all basically very simple. Probably just like the one you filled out at your previous club. They were kind enough to give us access to your information.”
Their fingers bumped as she reached for the forms, and the sparks between them were nearly visible. Clint’s hand tightened slightly, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. This was some incredibly powerful chemistry between them that simply swept over all barriers.
Keep it together. Keep it together.
She kept repeating it over and over in her brain.
“I told them to go ahead. Figured it would speed up the process.”
She tugged nervously at the hem of her skirt, fidgety as a virgin. Clint’s eyes dropped briefly to her breasts before he dragged them back to her face. As heavy as her breasts felt, she was sure her nipples had swollen into huge points and was glad for the concealing fabric of her leather top.
He flashed that deadly smile, and electrified heat zinged to every erogenous zone of her body. She imagined those firm lips and very white teeth clamped around an appropriate gag while she slid a well-lubed dildo into his delicious ass before applying the cane.
Stop it! You’re liable to come sitting right here if you’re not careful. Then where would you be?
“Are you all right, Miss Steele?” Clint looked at her strangely.
With an effort she pulled the frayed edges of her control together. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Just still…intrigued by the couple tonight.” She pulled the forms toward her, took the pen he handed her, and began filling them out.
Deliberately she avoided looking at Clint. There was so much sexual awareness in the room she wondered how either of them ignored it. What was he thinking? Did he want her as a Mistress, to sample her brand of play? Almost unconsciously, she slowly licked her lips.
Her eyes kept straying to his hands, so lean and masculine, with just a smattering of dark hair. Oh, the things she could order him to do with those hands to pleasure her.
Get it at The Wild Rose Press and all online book stores.
And find me on Twitter @desireeholt and Facebook /desireeholt