by Myla Jackson
Mark and Luke swayed to the music, flexing their muscles and grinding their hips.
Cries rose from the ladies, and they shouted, “More!”
At the back of the crowd a glimpse of strawberry-blonde hair caught Jackson’s eye like a ray of hope in a stormy sky. Was it…?
A woman made a grab for the red boot he held in front of his dick and jerked it out of his hand. “We want to see.”
Jackson lunged for the boot, falling into the crowd. Like a rock star at a concert, they moved him above their heads, touching, feeling and fondling all the way.
He spotted the red boot on the floor near someone’s feet, and he rolled to the side, disrupting the chain of hands. He dropped to the floor, lunged for the boot, and it was whisked out of sight before he could get his hands on it. He straightened, his gaze climbing the denim-clad legs to face off with Greta Sue, the female bouncer. In her hand, she held the boot. “Looking for this?”
Jackson smiled and winced as the woman behind him reached between his legs and squeezed his scrotum.
Greta Sue glared at the woman. “Back off, bitch.”
The woman let go of Jackson’s balls and stepped back.
Straightening to his full height, Jackson squared off with Greta Sue. “Yes. I was looking for that.”
She inspected the boot. “Not your size.”
A hand snaked out from behind Greta Sue and plucked the boot from her fingers. “No, but it’s mine.” Audrey’s voice carried over the roar of the crowd.
Jackson’s heart thundered against his ribs. This was not the way he envisioned this meeting would go. He fought the urge to fig-leaf his hand over his penis. She’d seen it all, touched it and fucked it. That last thought put life into his limp dick. Ah, hell, the more he tried not to think about all they’d done, the more he did and the bigger his cock swelled.
Several women standing nearby gasped.
One touched her throat and cried, “Oh, my.” Fingers stretched out to touch his member.
Greta Sue blocked her hand. “Don’t touch the merchandise.”
Jackson grinned at her. “Thanks.”
“Thanks, nothing. I want a clear view, not some skanky female’s hands all over, blocking that masterpiece.”
“Greta Sue,” Audrey said in a quiet, authoritative voice. “I’ll take it from here.”
Greta Sue grunted. “I just bet you will.” The big woman moved to the side, clearing the path between Audrey and Jackson.
Audrey’s brows rose, her gaze skimming him from head to foot. “Lose something?”
He shrugged, forcing a nonchalance he didn’t feel standing naked in front of a hundred drooling women. “More like I found something.”
She glanced at her boot. “Wondered where it had gotten to. Thanks for returning it.” Audrey nodded toward the bouncer. “Greta Sue will escort you and your brothers out, when you’re quite through entertaining the ladies.” She spun and strode for the door behind the bar.
“Audrey!” he yelled.
Audrey didn’t appear to notice, didn’t turn and acknowledge him or anything. Well, hell!
Jackson tried to follow her, but the crowd closed in on him again, blocking his path. He glanced at Greta Sue. “Help me.”
Greta grinned. “Whatcha gonna give me?”
He stared around the room. What could he give this woman? Everything he’d worn into the room had been stripped from his body. All he had was himself. With a grin, he waved at his cock and shrugged. “A good grope?”
“Deal.” She strong-armed her way through the grasping, pinching women, clearing a path for him to reach the bar. Then she gave him a boost up to join his brothers.
With a deep breath, he turned to face Greta Sue. “Go ahead.”
Greta Sue reached out a meaty hand and ran her fingers gently along his cock from the tip to the base, then fondled his balls, threading her fingers through the dark hairs.
It could have been worse. Those hands could have crushed juice from an avocado seed. Jackson counted himself lucky that he’d gotten off so easy.
Greta Sue sighed. “Thanks, hun.” Then she disappeared into the crowd.
Jackson turned toward the door leading into the back-office area and storeroom. Audrey stood there, a sad smile curling her lips.
“Audrey.” Jackson held out a hand to her.
She shook her head, her eyes shining suspiciously. When she spun away, Jackson knew he had to do something radical to get her attention.
He shouted above the ladies’ screams. “Wanna see me dance?”
Every woman in the building gave a resounding, “Hell, yeah!”
He crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head toward Audrey’s retreating figure. “I will, only if Audrey Anderson stays to watch.”
A surge of women shoved through the door where Audrey had disappeared, emerging seconds later with the struggling bar owner.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“He’s gonna dance, but you have to watch too.” Greta Sue hooked Audrey’s arm and marched her forward.
“I’m dedicating this dance to a fun-loving, sexy woman I’d love to get to know so much better.” Jackson nodded to the woman at the jukebox. “Play something hot and sexy.”
Music filled the air and shouts rose to the ceiling, fading away so that they could hear the music as Jackson swayed and ground his hips, dancing across the bar toward Audrey.
As he neared her, she backed away.
Mark and Luke leaped off the bar and blocked her escape, their bodies pressing into hers, their cocks fully engorged.
“I think I’m in love,” a woman wailed.
“With which one?” the woman next to her asked.
“All of them. Look at the size of those cocks.” She fanned herself.
Jackson ignored the comments, his gaze and attention solely focused on one woman. He’d never been much for dancing, and was probably doing it wrong, but he wanted to give back some of what she’d given him. He danced for Audrey.
Halfway through the song, Jackson slipped off the bar and landed in front of Audrey. “Don’t run away from me, beautiful lady. Please. I’m baring my soul to you in this dance.”
Luke snorted. “That’s not the only thing he’s baring.”
“Yeah,” Mark added. “We came to find you.”
Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes, and she raised her hand to wipe them away. “I’m not that other person.”
Jackson grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips. “Yes, you are.”
“No.” She looked up, her blue eyes awash with moisture. “I can’t be that person ever again.”
“Maybe not, but you can be yourself.” Jackson laid her hand on his chest. “Feel how hard you make my heart beat?”
She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks now. “But—”
He pressed a finger to her lips and replaced it with his mouth. “We love you just the way you are, in boots and chaps or nothing at all. I love you just the way you are.”
Audrey glanced away from Jackson, unable to look into his eyes. Unable to believe the tenderness she saw there. Randy had made her feel that her desires were wrong, wicked and dirty.
Weren’t they?
The shouting had stopped, the entire room growing silent, every ear turned toward Jackson, Audrey and the twins.
“Who could love someone like that?” she whispered.
Jackson lifted her chin and stared down into her eyes. “I could, if you’d let me.”
“And me,” Luke chimed in.
Mark tucked a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. “Me too.”
Audrey laughed, the sound catching on a sob. “Really?”
Jackson pulled her into his arms, his warmth wiping away the coldness of her past, the worry that she was unworthy to be loved by a man, much less three.
A collective sigh rose from the crowd and a soft chanting rose to fill the silence. “Kiss her.”
Jackson tipped Audrey’s ch
in, and when his lips pressed against hers, his cock nudged her belly, stirring to life the desires she’d unleashed only a short time ago. Her hands rounded his waist and dropped to his buttocks, pulling him closer.
“So unfair,” she whispered against his lips.
“What’s unfair?” He brushed his mouth across her nose, her eyes, her cheekbone.
Audrey breathed deeply, letting go of the last of her inhibitions, the final ghosts that had haunted her for the past few years, and smiled up at Jackson. “You’re naked and I’m not.”
Jackson bent, scooped her into his arms and carried her through the door into the storeroom where it had all begun.
Mark and Luke whooped and followed, closing the door behind them.
When they had the room to themselves, the men gently stripped Audrey of her clothes and one by one, they touched her, letting her know they could be as gentle as they could be rough, as tender as they were kinky.
Jackson took center stage, lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Your desires are my desires. If you want multiple partners, you’ve got it.”
“What about spanking?” she asked, wiggling, trying to sheathe him with her cunt and failing miserably. He wouldn’t let her lower herself over him. “Do you think a business owner should like to be spanked?”
Jackson grinned and held her above his jutting penis. “Absolutely.” He smacked her ass.
Audrey squealed. “What was that for?”
With a grin he rubbed the stinging area. “Wait until you’re invited to fuck me.”
Mark stood behind her, his hands cupping her breasts, pinching the nipples hard enough to make her squirm. “Do you like that?”
“Ummm, yes.” She leaned back against him. “Do it again.”
He did.
Luke caressed her ass, his finger finding and poking into her anus. “And this?”
Her breathing came in shallow gulps. “Yes.”
Jackson lifted her higher, positioning her pussy directly over his dick.
The anticipation was killing Audrey. She wanted Jackson inside her so badly she might burst into yet another round of tears. What was wrong with her? She never cried.
“Please.” She grabbed his cheeks and forced him to stare into her eyes. “Please. I can’t take much more. Fuck me, Master.”
“I love it when you beg.” He kissed her and plunged into her, his cock spearing her, thrusting deep, hard and rough.
Just the way she liked it.
About the Author
Twenty years of livin’ and lovin’ on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval, romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormal beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. When she’s not wrangling words from her computer she’s snow-skiing, boating, riding her ATV or spending time with family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of 20+ years and her muses—human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea.
To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories visit her website at www.mylajackson.com.
Look for these titles by Myla Jackson
Now Available:
Bound and Tied
Honor Bound
Duty Bound
River Bound
What do a madame and a bounty hunter have in common? They want the same man.
River Bound
© 2011 Myla Jackson
Bound and Tied, Book 3
When Rosalyn Smythe, aka Madame Rosie, steps aboard the Marie-Dearie, she hopes it’s the end of a year-long search for her runaway fiancé, Dalton Black. Her cabin holds a surprise: James McKendrick. Notorious bounty hunter, old lover…a man only too happy to help her clear the air—and her heart—of her murdering, thieving bastard fiancé once and for all.
In disguise as a riverboat gambler, Dalton is determined to find who framed him for killing two U.S. Army soldiers and who stole the gold they were carrying. He wants his life back—and his woman, who just happens to be on board and on the arm of his former best friend.
Convincing James he’s innocent is easier than winning back Rosalyn’s heart. Especially since Rosalyn seems to be enjoying their competition for her affections a little too much. There’s only one place to work out his dilemma. In bed.
As the sheets become unbearably hot, threads of evidence leading to the real killer are unraveling, leading toward one fateful card game—and one man who’s hell-bent on making sure Dalton has nothing left to lose.
Warning: This title contains hot ménage a trois scenes, bondage, and two men loving, sharing and fighting for the love of one woman with very specific bedroom desires and a bordello full of experience to tempt any man beyond redemption.
Enjoy the following excerpt for River Bound:
Rosalyn was as beautiful as ever, even in her men’s garb, her slim legs encased in trousers.
Dalton’s body reacted as usual to the woman who’d always turned his head and set his heart to thumping. Her long black hair bounced down around her waist, the luxurious waves rich and beckoning for his hands to comb through them.
Pushing away from the wall, he stepped toward her. “Where have you been?”
“You’re the second person tonight who’s asked me that question. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was at the Rose Palace.”
“No… Where have you been for the past year?” He closed the distance between them and cupped her cheek.
Her chest rose with a quick indrawn breath. “Like you give a damn.”
“I did, but my being with you would only have caused you more trouble.”
“And I’m too fragile to handle trouble?” She snorted and tried to push him away.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, you asked me to marry you and the reality of it scared you so badly you jumped overboard is the more likely story.” She ducked under his arm and made to escape.
He caught her and shoved her against the wall, pinning her hands above her head. “You’re right. I got scared.”
“Exactly.”
“Not of you, but for you.” He pressed his body against hers. “That lynch mob was after someone to hang. If I hadn’t jumped in the water, you’d have been widowed before we’d married and they might have decided to hang you as well.” He held both of her wrists with one hand, the other skimming down over her neck. “I’d hate to see such a beautiful throat wasted on a hangman’s noose.”
“You’re very convincing, thief. But I’m not buying it.” She stood straight, defiant, her blue eyes flashing. “A year is a long time to think through all that happened.”
“Enough time to change your mind about marrying a gambler?” The weight of the ring in his pocket remained a stinging reminder of Rosalyn’s choice to end their engagement. “Enough time to transfer your affections to James?”
She smiled. “James loves me.”
Dalton’s lip curled back in a snarl. “He doesn’t know you like I do.” He leaned in and nipped her ear, enough to bring pain.
She gasped, her breasts pressing against him. “Oh, but he’s learning. He actually spanked me.” Her words were spoken with bravado, but her breath quivered afterward.
“It’s against his nature.”
“But with time…”
“He’s not the man you can spend the rest of your life with. You would walk all over him.”
“At least he won’t run off and leave me.”
“I told you I couldn’t help it.” Dalton captured her mouth with his, biting down on her lower lip, close to but not quite drawing blood.
Rosalyn moaned, her knee drawing up alongside his leg.
Dalton pinched a nipple through the fabric of the man’s shirt she wore. “He doesn’t make you beg for what you want.”
“How do you know you can? It’s been a long time.”
Th
e gauntlet thrown, Dalton smiled. This was a challenge he could master. He yanked her hands down, urging her to her knees. “Get down, woman.”
“No.” She resisted, color flooding her cheeks.
“Get down and beg.”
“No.” Her voice quivered, her surrender inevitable.
He dropped down with her, dragging her to her knees. Once he had her there, he rose back to his feet, one hand resting on her shoulder, holding her there. “You are mine. I am your master. Or did you forget?”
“I belong to no one.”
“You belong to me. Let me remind you.” With one hand, Dalton loosened the buttons on his trousers, slipped his suspenders over his shoulders and pulled his cock free. Blood rushed through his veins. “You know you want it. Suck my cock, woman. Suck it hard.”
He held his stance rigid, his face stern, but inside his confidence wavered, wondering if Rosalyn was still the same lover she’d been a year ago. Would his forceful demand tempt her as before, or would it repel her? Dalton held his breath, awaiting her response.
“No.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips trembling. She’d always loved it when he forced her. He’d been the only man she’d let bend her to his will. With his dick hard and straight in front of her, she swallowed the lust rising in her and whispered, “I won’t.”
“You know you want it. Do as I say. I am the master.”
Every part of her body burned, urging her to take him in her hands, to run her fingers over his length and make him cry out with the pleasure her mouth would bring. If she gave in to their game, she’d be right back where they left off a year ago—at his mercy, giving him everything he demanded…surfacing her hidden desires for rough, nasty fucking. “Please, don’t make me do this.”
“Do it.” He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her closer until his dick bumped against her face.
Automatically, her hands rose to circle his member. She moaned, her tongue reaching out to tentatively touch the velvety end of his cock. He tasted clean, salty and oh so good. How had she come to crave sex in such a forceful, decadent way? As her fingers stroked his length, she vowed to make him regret ever leaving her, to remind him of what she had promised when she agreed to marry him. She’d make him crave her like an alcoholic craving his next drink.
