Take Me Again

by Mackenzie McKade

  The tech nodded, his hands full. He held a whip in one while the other controlled the long longe line connected to the filly's halter as the horse circled around him. He snapped the bullwhip into the air and Dawn's Break broke into a gallop.

  Dolan watched the two-year-old's stride and the bound front ankle. He nodded with satisfaction. “She's doing well. Looks like it's almost healed."

  "Yep,” Kerry said cracking the whip once more.

  "Noon?” Dolan's tone lowered as he directed his attention back to Tracy. Before she could answer, he said, “I'll be there."

  "Okay.” She released the air from her lungs and then quickly inhaled another sharp breath. “I guess I'd better get going. Uh.” She paused. “Thank you.” Her eyes were filled with unashamed gratitude.

  So innocent.

  So sweet.

  Yet the moment felt a little awkward. Her fingers flexed as if she thought to shake his hand. Instead, the cutest little grin curled her lips. “Thank you,” she repeated before walking away.

  He watched her leave, unable to tame the grin on his face. She did that to him, made him giddy with just a smile. A whistle found its way to his lips as he headed back inside to check his schedule. No matter what, he was clearing his calendar for lunch and maybe even a little dessert afterwards.

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  Chapter Twelve

  Tracy couldn't remember the last time her kitchen looked so good and it had nothing to do with neatly aligned pictures. Nor could her feelings be attributed to the squeaky clean wood floor or polished stainless steel sinks she had worked on earlier this morning before heading to Dr. Zimmerman's office. Nope. The credit went to the sight of two ruggedly handsome men standing on ladders.

  Dolan and Rowdy both had frustration written across their lowered brows. Parts missing and a mishap with the wire strippers had turned their little task into a battle of wills. Neither one of them would quit until the fan was rotating above them.

  No problem. She'd just stand next to the table, slicing cantaloupe into bite sizes, watching their every move. The fruity scent filled her nose, but it was muscles flexing beneath T-shirts stretched over broad chests and biceps bulging that made her sigh and drag her gaze downward. They both had gorgeous asses wrapped in blue denim.

  Desire fluttered low in her belly.

  What would they do if she unzipped their jeans and peeled them down their legs?

  A chill raced up her back, causing her to shiver. Her breasts ached beneath the spaghetti-strap sundress she chose to wear, along with a just a thong. Cool air stroked her legs, making her aware of how easy it would be to slip her panties off.

  It was true what they said about lingerie, or lack of, making a woman feel sexy. She was so entranced in her thoughts she didn't notice the knife until it sliced the tip of her finger.

  Yanking back her hand, she released the blade to clink against the table she stood before. “Shit.” She pushed the injured digit into her mouth. Sucked, tasting the bitter, metallic flavor of blood and the juice of the fruit she had once held.

  "You okay?” came a deep, dark voice from above her. She jerked her head up as Dolan released his hold on the fan.

  "Ugh,” Rowdy moaned, bearing the weight. “Thanks, buddy.” He heaved the fan into the bracket anchored to the ceiling, while Dolan shimmied down the ladder.

  The legs of a kitchen chair scraped across the floor as he pulled it out from beneath the table. “Sit down. Let me see what you've done.” She eased her finger out of her mouth and held her hand out to him.

  Gone was the shock and sting of the cut. Instead she wondered if he knew how lethal his eyes were.

  Dark.

  Mysterious.

  So damn sexy she felt her breath catch when his fingers tightened around her wrist. A blistering wave of desire quivered through her limbs. Taut nipples rasped against her dress, awakening a tingle that splintered through her breasts.

  "Do you have a first aid kit?” he asked.

  "First aid?” she repeated as he dabbed her finger with a nearby paper towel. “Uh. It's just a little cut,” she insisted even as she basked in his attention.

  What would it be like to have a man worry about her? Someone who would seek out ways to keep her safe, happy and content?

  She pointed to the drawer she had designated as the junk drawer. “I think there's a Band-Aid in that top drawer."

  He released her and headed for the drawer, providing her with another look of his ass. “What about an antiseptic?"

  She stood needing to ease the ache that throbbed between her thighs. “Don't know if I've unpacked it. A Band-Aid would do just fine.” A cool breeze caressed her bare skin. “Really. I'm okay.” She glanced to the ceiling and smiled as the blades of the fan spun.

  Rowdy slipped behind her startling her as he pressed his body to her back. “Mmmm ... You look and smell good enough to eat.” He pushed a strap to her dress down and pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Yep. Edible.” His kisses tickled causing her to chuckle.

  "Stop that.” She tried to shrug away, but he folded his arms around her waist pulling her close.

  He spun her around in his arms. “What do you say, Dolan?” A soft, nervous squeak slipped past her lips when he picked her up and placed her on the table, the surface cold against her bare ass. “Ready to eat?” The smokiness in his voice told her he didn't mean the fruit salad she had planned.

  His palm skimmed her shoulder taking with it the other strap, but he didn't stop there. Nudging the bodice of her dress down, he revealed the swells of her breasts but stopped short of divulging her nipples. “Oh, baby.” He stroked her exposed skin with a heated stare, making the tips pucker. It didn't help when he raised his hand, fingers plucking playfully at the sensitive peaks.

  "Rowdy,” she breathed.

  He didn't expect to take her on the kitchen table? Wasn't that just a fantasy, one involving things like tongs, basters, and ohmygod—ice cubes. She gasped as her knees were pried apart. Her leg bumped against his hard-muscled thigh before he slipped between them.

  Spearing his fingers through her hair, he brought his nose to hers. Lust simmered in his eyes. “Would you like to be Dolan's and my lunch?” He inched closer, the bulge between his legs pressed against her thong-covered pussy—a really damp pussy rippling with need.

  Tracy didn't trust her own voice at that moment. Her pulse was racing. The tautness in her chest grew tighter. A brief second of sanity peeked through her hazy mind. Her gaze slid sideways seeking Dolan. He stood by the sink, a single Band-Aid in his hand. His eyes were dark. His chest rose and fell. Silently he watched them.

  Rowdy pressed seductively against her, rocking so that his stiff jeans pressed against the V of her thighs. She raised her eyes to meet his. “Well, baby?"

  "Can't?” she squeezed the word through thin lips. But his caress felt so good. She couldn't help easing against him. “Shouldn't."

  "But you will, because it's what you want.” His warm palm slid up her arm. “You want both of us buried in that sweet pussy and ass—fucking you hard and fast."

  The picture he painted made her heart skip a beat because that's exactly what she wanted. Soft booted steps drew her gaze toward Dolan. Her pulse leaped. There was something about this man that made her reservations non-existent. Each step closer was like gas to a flame, driving her desire higher and higher.

  Strong hands reached for her shoulders, drawing them down on the table. Dolan's hot gaze followed the lines of her legs as Rowdy raised the hemline of her dress, inching it up so the fragile fabric of her thong was the only thing that stood between them.

  He smoothed his palm down her belly, stopping at the elastic of her panties. A single finger traced the edges. “Do you want the pleasure?"

  Dolan's jaw was clenched. The tendon in his neck defined. He didn't say a thing, brushing his friend aside and moving between her thighs.

  His nostrils flared. No foreplay or teasing, instead he coiled his fingers in
the crotch of her thong and gave a vicious tug. The ripping sound made her arch and incomprehensible words spilled from her lips. She had never experienced anything so primitive, so friggin’ hot. Spasms shot through her core, forcing a groan from her throat. Her body became a furnace, heat waves surging across her skin.

  "Such a beautiful pussy.” His wicked fingers smoothed across the sensitive surface of her folds.

  "Oh God.” She raised her hips aching for more.

  He held her gaze in an intoxicating web of arousal as he stroked her, once again eliciting the same response. “You like that, darlin'?” His tongue slid seductively between his lips.

  Tracy was lost.

  "Yes,” she whispered. Unbelievable. Not only was she giving in to her desire for this man, but excited to be touched by Rowdy too. “Please.” She even begged for it.

  "Please what?” he teased, nudging a knuckle across her clit.

  A shudder raced up her spine. “Fuck me."

  When he pushed a finger between her slit she sighed, but the fullness was short lived. He dragged his hands to her thighs. Without a word, he smoothed his palms along her legs, easing her dress up to expose her abdomen. Holding her gaze with his, he leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly to her belly button.

  Damn. He was good looking. Hunger and need reflected in his eyes setting her blood to simmer. She wanted him—craved his touch.

  He inched the dress higher, baring her breasts. A whisper of air swirled around her areoles to pimple the skin. “Beautiful.” Knotting his hands in the material, he dragged the garment higher until it blocked her vision and trapped her arms above her head.

  Her senses went on overload. She could hear his heavy breathing and that of Rowdy's as he stood watching them. The fan made wispy sounds above her. The table was cool. Dolan's hands were warm. She inhaled and even through the cloth she could smell the musky scent of cologne and male desire.

  Tracy startled when his fingers caressed her again, thumbs stroking down her slick slit from top to back. “Damn, darlin', you're wet."

  Her response was to anoint him with more of her juices as butterfly wings beat against the walls of her abdomen. The flutter increased when she felt his breath and the tickle of his moustache against her thighs. In fact, every muscle from her head to her toes clenched with dizzy expectation.

  "Let's rid you of this.” Rowdy pulled the dress over her head, letting it slip through his fingers to land on the floor.

  She pulled in a shaky breath, blinking to adjust her eyesight. Lord. There wasn't anything as sensual as Dolan's dark head between her thighs. He winked, lowered his head, and her heart skipped a beat. Flattening his tongue, he caressed her slit, causing her pulse to leap again. With long, slow licks he circled her clit.

  The clink of glasses pulled her attention to Rowdy as he began to clear the table, transferring the dishes and food to the counter. He removed everything except for the salad bowl. With mischief in his eyes, he took his time in selecting a juicy red strawberry from the bowl. Gently he began to rub the sticky substance around each of her nipples. The swirling air above caressed her nubs into even tighter peaks, and then he leaned in, taking one into his mouth.

  Warm. Wet.

  Electricity shot through the peak.

  Was it the idea of two men cherishing her body or the fact that Dolan took that moment to latch onto her clit and suck in earnest that made her gasp?

  "Oh God.” A shockwave tore her back off the table. She stabbed her fingers through Rowdy's hair, raising his head from her breast. He flashed a knowing grin of satisfaction. Clearly he knew they were driving her crazy.

  The throb between her thighs pounded relentlessly. She needed them now. “Please.” She was back to begging. Her hips jerked, pushing into Dolan's caress. “Now.” She squirmed. “Need you now."

  "Yes, ma'am,” Rowdy said with a southern drawl that was so not him, but sexy as hell. “What do you say, partner? Shall we give her a ride?"

  "Fuck yeah.” Dolan's hot gaze trailed up her length. He stood and grasped her ankles, setting her feet on the table, knees apart. Then he reached for her hand placing it where his mouth had been. “Keep the fire burning, darlin'. Touch yourself.” Then he stepped away.

  A single finger circled the moist bud between her thighs. Blood surged into Dolan's groin. The bittersweet pain welcomed. Her touch was tentative. A blush tinted her cheeks. Had she ever masturbated in front of a lover—make that two? The innocence on her face revealed she hadn't.

  "Don't be shy, baby,” Rowdy coaxed, recognizing the same. “There isn't anything hotter than a woman pleasuring herself."

  Dolan had to agree with his friend, especially watching this woman seek her fulfilment. Heavy eyelids were shuttered. Her movements were timid; her legs trembled, matching the tremor in his own hands as he unfastened his belt buckle and jeans. His cock sprung from its confines, hard and ready.

  Pulling his shirt over his head, he toed off one boot and then the other, unable to turn his head from the erotic sight. She looked at him with heat and fire burning in her eyes. Her touch more confident as her fingers disappeared inside her sweet core, pumping in and out. He couldn't wait to get her alone. Teach her to enjoy performing for him.

  "Pinch your titty,” Rowdy growled. His shirt was off. He did a couple hops, pulling at his boots.

  Her fingers plucked at a nipple as her mouth parted on a gasp.

  Damn. This was killing Dolan. He had wanted to move slow, watch as she pushed those delicate fingers in and out of her pussy, but he needed to feel her body surrounding him.

  Dragging his jeans down his legs, he stepped out of them. “You're so friggin’ hot.” He pulled a condom from his pants and let them fall to the floor as he began to tear open the package.

  She whimpered a soft sound that went straight through him. Taking his cock in hand, he stroked several times before rolling the sheath over it. Her eyes grew dark, intense. Another step and Rowdy stood beside him.

  "I think she likes watching us as much as we do her,” Rowdy chuckled.

  Come glistened beneath the latex as Dolan ran his palm up and down his dick once again.

  "Oh,” she cried. Her back bowed off the table. It was the most arousing picture he had ever seen, naked and lying on a table fucking herself. Her hair haloed her head like fire.

  "Resist it, darlin'.” He wanted to feel her inner muscles seize him, shaking and quivering, as she came apart in his arms. Her breathing was shallow and quick. She trembled. She was almost there—almost ready.

  "Your lead,” Rowdy muttered. “But make it quick.” His voice held an edge of urgency, one that Dolan knew all too well as he walked between her legs.

  "Dolan?” She spoke his name as a plea.

  Damn. Tracy made him yearn for right now and what it might lead to in the future. She was the type of woman he could see himself working beside and, yes, settling down with.

  Reaching for him, she pulled into a sitting position. “I can't wait any longer.” Her palms were warm on his arms, her body cool against his chest as she pulled him nearer. He pressed against her cradle. She was wet, hot with need.

  "Soon,” he promised lifting her into his arms.

  "Now,” she insisted.

  Amusement curved Rowdy's lips. “Impatient, isn't she?” He chuckled, heading toward the living room.

  As Dolan followed, carrying her, she corrected, “Horny.” Her lips were soft, nuzzling against his neck. Standing in the middle of the living room, he let her slid down his body.

  "Head or heel?” Rowdy said with heated excitement.

  Confusion furrowed her brows. “Head or heel?"

  Dolan didn't want to share her. He wanted her all to himself, but it was too late to say anything now. Besides he wasn't sure about her feelings for him. Would his possessiveness turn her away?

  He couldn't let that happen.

  "On your hands and knees,” he growled between clenched teeth. “I'm heeling.” Tracy was his. If he had his
way no man would ever fuck her pussy again.

  Without hesitating, she drifted to her knees, gazing up with weighted eyelids. Something inside his chest clenched. He wasted no time kneeling behind her.

  Dolan smoothed a palm down her back and then held on to her hips. “Such a pretty ass.” He'd fuck it one day, but not today. He wouldn't take her without being properly prepared for his entry and now wasn't the time to ask if she had any lubricant.

  Rowdy knelt before her. “Open up, baby. I want to feel that beautiful mouth around my dick."

  A growl rumbled in Dolan's throat as red-hot jealousy rose. This would be the last time he'd share Tracy with another man, including Rowdy. As her lips closed around him, he grinned from ear to ear.

  Damn. This was going to be hell.

  Dolan thrust his hips a little aggressively. Not only did he bury his rock-hard cock deep inside Tracy, he caused her to groan and then gag as Rowdy pressed deeper.

  "God damn,” his friend cried out. “You're not going to believe how good this feels.” He rocked to the rhythm of her head bobbing. His features bathed in ecstasy.

  The hell Dolan didn't know how talented she was. He eased out of her warmth, attempting to hold on to his anger as he thrust. It didn't help that she made little sucking noises as she feasted on his friend's dick. His hold tightened as he grinded his hips into her, making sure she understood who held her—fucked her.

  She moaned. The rapture in Rowdy's eyes revealed he enjoyed the vibration of her throat. He stroked her hair, gave her a look of male satisfaction that made Dolan's blood run cold.

  Fuck this. He couldn't remain quiet. The primitive urge to stake his claim overtook him. “Mine,” he growled, throwing caution to the wind. Tracy was his woman.

  Rowdy glanced at him. The damn man opened his mouth as if to contradict him. Instead a deep-throated groan emerged. His body went perfectly still. His facial features taut.

  At that exact moment a fiery burn surged through Dolan's shaft. He eased back trying to control it, but when he thrust again her inner muscles seized, pulling him even deeper.