Hard Luck Ranch

by Nan Comargue

  Sweat poured off Wes’ bare back and down their bodies, causing their skin to become slick and shiny. The wetness helped to ease the friction, allowing Everett to set an agonizingly fierce pace.

  Wes was shouting his name over and over and Everett’s face flushed with pride. Even if it was Emma he loved, it was Everett who was able to give Wes this incredible sensation. It was Everett who was fucking him like he deserved to be fucked.

  Everett nearly jumped when a soft hand landed on his sweating flank. It was Emma, forgotten for the moment, until she reminded him of her presence with a short squeeze of encouragement. She at least wanted him. Even if she were practically a stranger, he knew that she cared.

  That small motion drained him of some of his violence, leaving him to push his cock into Wes’ tightly clenched ass for a few final strokes before his climax caused him to spill his seed deep within his friend’s hot hole. A moment later Wes’ body shuddered as he came. Instead of collapsing forward, Wes twisted his head backwards, blindly seeking Everett’s mouth.

  Leaning down, his heartbeats racing again, Everett met Wes’ lips with his own. Their kiss unfurled, dark and delicious, with a thread of the same violence that had overtaken him before. They laved each other tenderly and Everett’s cheeks hollowed as he tried to swallow Wes’ tongue again and again, drawing a low moan from Wes’ throat.

  A softer moan reminded him that Emma was still wedged on top of the sofa and stuck beneath them.

  Reaching under their bodies, Everett once again found her moist pussy, sticky now with the juices of her second climax. She gave a very unladylike grunt when he delicately rolled her swollen nub in his fingers but she didn’t bid him to stop.

  Wes shifted restively and Everett turned back, reluctantly withdrawing his still partly erect cock from Wes’ dripping asshole. That allowed Wes to get off his wife and stretch his cramped limbs.

  Only Emma remained in the same position like she was stuck there, her hands clamped onto the back of the sofa, her naked ass still in the air. Wes’ juices slicked her backside and his final fucking had left her ass cheeks flushed and pink.

  When Wes collapsed onto the sofa beside her, Everett grasped her waist. She tiredly jerked away, causing his heart to fill with a sudden rush of tenderness for this lovely lady.

  “Easy, darlin’,” Everett soothed.

  The words calmed her, letting him try again to reposition her into a more comfortable spot. He flipped her over and set her up on the sofa next to her husband. Their two heads lolled together in a comical exaggeration of fatigue but he suspected that they were ready for more. He certainly was.

  Kneeling between Emma’s legs, Everett lowered his head to her exposed breasts, nuzzling each perfect mound in turn. He didn’t even open his mouth, just rubbed his lips into the silky flesh and brushed them lightly over her lax nipples. After only a few passes of his mouth, the tips began to harden noticeably. This time when she shifted, it wasn’t to dislodge him but to press her breasts closer to his lips.

  Beside them, Wes turned his head to watch the two of them together. His hand drifted down to his stiffening cock and he played with it, tugging it lightly with his fingers.

  Emma was starting to moan again now when Everett circled her nipples with his puckered lips. With each pass, she pushed her flesh toward him but he ignored the temptation for as long as he could. Finally, when he could take no more, he parted his lips and accepted her taut nipple into the heat of his mouth, sucking it strongly.

  Wes made a surprised sound beside them before he lowered his own head and captured Emma’s other nipple in his open mouth.

  Together they sucked her nipples for long time, bonding over the shared gasps they wrung from her and glorying over their own reawakening desires.

  Everett reached across to dislodge Wes’ hand, replacing it with his hand on Wes’ hard dick. After a brief hesitation, Wes followed suit, reaching across to explore Everett’s swaying cock and stroking it into full erection. Both men were now gasping out their own pleasure between sucks of Emma’s sweet nipples and she caressed their heads, holding them close to her. Soon they were all ready again for another round.

  This time it was Wes who directed the show, telling Everett to sit down on the sofa while he shifted Emma to sit on his friend’s lap. Everett took over from there, holding Emma’s hips above him as he guided her cunny onto his erect shaft.

  Emma moaned when she slid down his dick and Everett joined her, reveling in the velvet stretch of her cunt. He hadn’t realized that he’d missed this sensation until Emma walked into their lives.

  Their lives.

  Everett spared a glance for Wes, who was seated next to him, running his fingers through Everett’s tousled fair hair. The look on Wes’ face melted Everett. He shifted his gaze from Wes’ tender expression to Emma’s rapt one and he found himself wishing with all his being that he could stay with these two incredible people and never have to leave.

  He shut his eyes while Emma start to raise herself up on his lap then bring her pussy back down fully on his cock. His head went back. She was riding him like a wild mustang and he was loving it.

  “Ev.”

  The quiet call made him open his eyes. It was Wes, closer now, their faces almost touching.

  Everett read the love in that look—and the acceptance.

  As Emma rode him, Wes leaned forward to kiss Everett’s mouth, first softly then with growing fervor. The two men kissed with opened mouths and hot probing tongues, devouring each other greedily.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  “Give me your dick,” Everett commanded, once again shifting into the leadership role.

  Wes scrambled to obey, lifting himself up on the sofa until he was almost standing, steadying himself with an outstretched hand along the back.

  His cock was beautiful, stiff and hot, and Everett’s mouth watered for it. How long he’d waited for this, for Wes to give himself fully to him.

  He licked the moist head of Wes’ dick but he could hardly wait before he took the entire length into his mouth, sucking on it with hard hungry swallows. Wes’ grunts of exertion filled the air as he fucked Everett’s mouth in long thrusts. After a moment, Emma leaned over to take Wes’ swaying balls into her mouth and Wes’ hand moved around to support her head while she fed on his salty warm sac. At the same time, she bounced more vigorously on Everett’s shaft, bringing them both to the edge of release.

  Wes’ hot spunk spurted into Everett’s mouth when he came inside Wes’ wife, his body helplessly tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing, his cock draining itself of its juices.

  Emma reached her climax few seconds later, her cunny squeezing the last few creamy drops from Everett’s dick as he sucked the final droplets from Wes’ member

  Then, satiated, they all fell together onto the sofa, Wes’ head pillowed on one of Everett’s broad shoulders and Emma’s head snuggled against the other. Everett rubbed his hands across both their backs in long strokes, soothing them tenderly after the wonderful experience they’d just shared but also holding them to him lightly, knowing that they may both draw away at any moment.

  “Ev.” Wes spoke into his ear. “We need to talk.”

  Everett stilled his hands. Here it came. The heave ho.

  He was good enough for fucking, apparently, but not for anything more. Suddenly he understood the true depth of torture he’d put Kenneth through and he regretted it. It would have been better to have never known this exquisite bliss, this pure communion of woman, man, and man, rather than taste its wonder then have to relinquish it forever.

  “I’m listening,” he said, glad to hear that his voice was steady.

  Emma cupped his cheek. “Oh, Wesley,” she murmured, “don’t start off like that. He will expect the worst. Everett, darling, please hear him out.”

  Everett, darling. It had a nice ring to it. Sweet-like.

  He relaxed slightly. “Go on, Wes, and make it quick.”

  “We want you to co
me live here,” Wesley blurted out. “At the ranch. Like before.”

  Everett narrowed his eyes as he tried to peer at the other man’s face but they were too close for him to discern Wes’ expression.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Wesley lifted his head. “After what just happened, do you have to ask?”

  Everett’s head started to buzz. Could this be real? Was he truly receiving an invitation to come back to Hard Luck Ranch?

  “Tell him why,” Emma spoke up, her tone firmer than he’d ever heard it before. “Tell him what we talked about earlier, Wesley.”

  Wesley drew back so that brown eyes clashed with gray. What he saw in those eyes made Everett’s heart pound. They were so warm, so welcoming. It was everything he’d woken up wanting so many years ago, only to find anger and rejection.

  “We love you, Everett.” Wes’ mouth curved up into a smile so tender that Everett could not help smiling back. “I love you, Ev. I reckon it will take me the rest of my life to show you just how much.”

  Everett shut his eyes for a moment, blocking out the wave of emotion that threatened to crush him. His joy was so great that he thought he might drown in it.

  “Ev?” It was Wes’ voice, deep and concerned, trying to draw him back out of himself.

  “Darling, are you all right?” Emma—her soft city tones making the simple question sound like music.

  In a moment he would open his eyes and look at his loves, both old and new. He would tell them how much he loved them both. He would let them know how happy he was that his luck had changed for good.

  But for now Everett could only revel in the thought that, after all these years, he had finally come home.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Country Hearts

  Nan Comargue

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Isabel stood, hands on her hips, and looked over her empty apartment.

  From the hall, a deep voice asked, “You ready?”

  She had to swallow hard before she could answer. “Just give me a minute. Please.”

  Isabel heard his footsteps clattering back down the stairs and after that, she was alone with her memories.

  For four years, she’d laughed and cried within these thin walls, listening to her neighbours laugh over their joys and cry over their frustrations. Lately all they must have heard from her unit were tears. Angry, bitter sobs over the man who had recently moved out. He was moving on, Jason had told her, as if she was an accident scene that had momentarily snarled up the smooth traffic of his life.

  Damn him.

  They’d only lived together for the past eight months, but already his personality had sunk itself into the furniture she’d packed away for shipping on to his mother’s. He hadn’t even wanted to give her his new address. Probably because it was her address, too. The other woman. His new woman. Which probably made Isabel the other woman now.

  Damn him. Damn them both.

  Jason hadn’t thought to help Isabel pack either, and had left it to her and whatever help she could rustle up. There had been a lot of possessions to move, mostly the recent and expensive accumulations from Jason’s side of the apartment, consisting of a state-of-the-art stereo system and brand new television set. They’d cost a big chunk of his last bonus from work, yet the people she’d asked to assist her with the task of emptying out the apartment hadn’t seemed impressed. The magazines she’d thrown into the recycling bin behind the building were mostly his business journals. The books on his side of the bookcase were all about money and power. She’d seen her helpers grimacing as they’d pulled them down from the shelves. Between them, the two men who were helping to move her out of her apartment had enough wealth to buy and sell any of the partners at Jason’s investment firm, but they’d never cared about the influence and clout Jason craved most of all.

  Isabel had folded away the T-shirts he’d left in the drawers after taking only the newest designer versions and the jeans he rarely wore anymore since his promotion twelve weeks ago. They reminded her of the Jason she’d fallen in love with, a Jason whose dreams were still to be fulfilled. Now that he was realising them, he was a different man. Not cold, exactly, but distant. His affections were kept for material things now. Even the woman, she’d heard, was—

  No, she wouldn’t think about the other woman.

  She thought instead of the man she’d loved—ever since that first day they’d met on the campus of their shared college, their dreams still written large on their faces. They’d dated and had quickly become serious, spending most of their time together in Jason’s bachelor pad that he’d shared with three other roommates, and later in Isabel’s more private apartment. The bed her helpers had already dismantled used to be her and Jason’s favourite discussion board. They’d spent so much of their time together in bed that it had almost been a default location. It was something he’d later thrown back at her.

  “All you think about is sex!” He’d told her. “It’s unnatural—particularly in a woman.”

  Isabel admitted that she did love sex—who didn’t?—and that Jason’s sex drive just hadn’t been up to scratch lately. In the beginning, he’d wanted her two or three times a night, but by the end it was down to once a week if she was lucky. Of course, by that time, he’d had to divide his attentions between two women.

  The thought of his infidelity had made Isabel’s tongue reckless.

  “Maybe it’s you who’s unnatural,” she’d shot back. “You and your prim little virgin.”

  “Oh, Amy’s far from virginal,” he’d boasted, “but that was due to me. I didn’t have to get this one second-hand from a couple of rowdy cowboys.”

  For a second, Isabel had seen red. To have her deepest secrets, secrets she’d shared with complete trust and devotion, used to degrade her… That was too much to take.

  “At least those cowboys didn’t have limp dicks half the time!”

  She’d never forget the look on Jason’s blandly handsome face—or the mingled self-disgust and creeping dark humour she’d felt at his reaction.

  Poor Jason. He’d blamed his recent declining sexual appetite on his high-stress job and Isabel had lovingly agreed it was that and nothing else. Back when they’d been in love, she’d never have dreamt of suggesting that her sexual appetite was simply larger than his. He would have taken that as an insult.

  Pulling the door closed, Isabel walked down the short flight of stairs to the ground floor and shoved the key under the super’s door.

  Stepping into the sharp sunlight outside, she blinked rapidly and fumbled for her sunglasses. She glanced at them before she put them on, involuntarily remembering that they were part of a matching pair. Jason still had the other set. Those, at least, he’d remembered to take with him when he’d packed his overnight bag and exited her life for good. He might as well have packed her heart up and taken that with him, too.

  She glanced up one last time at the building behind her, tall and impressive in the bright sunlight. That was it—the apartment she’d come to with big hopes and tremulous laughter. She was leaving in defeat, and near tears. Her experiment with city life was done.

  An oversized black pickup was parked in front of the building. All of her worldly possessions were piled into the back and the two men she’d vowed four years ago never to lean on again were sitting in the front seat, wearing identical frowns.

  As she approached the truck, the dark-haired man in the passenger seat jumped out and opened the back door for her, where a second set of seats was squeezed in. He towered over her, even with the inch of extra height her sandals gave her small frame.

  “Such manners,” Isabel marvelled as she slid inside the vehicle.

  Dex was blushing as he slammed the door behind her and took up his seat again, next to his brother.

  Dexter Armstrong was attractive, with his rough-hewn features and quick smile—nowhere in evidence today—but it was his older brother, sitting tall beside him, who too
k women’s breath away.

  From her spot in the middle of the bench-like back seat, Isabel could only catch a glimpse of Cary’s silver-grey gaze. His face and expression were hidden by his black Stetson.

  The drive to Riding was nearly two hours long and there would be no rest stops. It would feel even longer unless she could think of something to say above the mournful country twang of the radio.

  The pickup eased through the city traffic, passing dozens of its own kind. But there was a difference between this truck and the carefully washed and preserved versions they passed—this was a working vehicle, more accustomed to driving the worn paths of the Double-A Ranch than making its way across hot asphalt.

  “How’s everyone back home?” Isabel asked, feeling the last word drop like a weight from her tongue. “Mary Jo? The McIntyre twins? Do they fight as much as they used to?”

  Silence. In the background, Kenny Chesney sang about tequila.

  The truck cleared the highway and made the turn-off out of the city and onto the long lonely roads of their shared childhood.

  With a sidelong look at his brother, Dex finally answered her, many minutes later.

  “The McIntyre girls got themselves married. Becky to the Willsons’ eldest and Bonny to a city man she at in college. She went to live with him up in Dallas. The wedding was two years ago, at least.”

  “You’re kidding!” Isabel had to force the note of cheerfulness into her voice. That last comment stung, as it was no doubt meant to. “Both of them, huh? And they were my age.”

  “Some women aren’t against marriage,” Cary commented from the driver’s seat.

  He hadn’t said anything to her yet that morning, and his voice, just as deep as Dex’s, but slightly more raspy, sent shivers down her spine. It was a voice made for lovemaking.

  “Who said I was against marriage?” Isabel demanded, annoyed by the fact that her words quivered.

  “Why else would you be shacked up with that city man for the last year?” was the cool reply.