by Cari Quinn
Maybe someday she’d have a horse of her own. Get out of her apartment above the Chinese restaurant and stop working so much, perhaps buy a place with enough acreage she could ride and work the land. All the things she’d dreamed about when she was living in the Northeast, taking accounting classes and planning for the day she could take over her grandparents’ business and really make something of herself.
The crunch of footsteps made her whirl around. Drake stood in the doorway, bare-chested, his hand tucked in the pocket of his tight jeans. Shadows clung to him in interesting places, highlighting the dips and hollows of his muscles and the vee above his low-slung jeans.
Holy shit, he was hot.
“Her name is Cupcake.”
“She’s gorgeous.” Paige swallowed over the sexual-fog-induced dryness in her throat. The unexpected sight of Drake or Colt had that effect on her with surprising regularity. “They all are,” she said, glancing around at the other horses poking their heads over their stalls.
He didn’t speak. Which probably meant he was pissed at waking up to find her gone. Had he worried?
Nah, he was probably just annoyed at having to do his civic duty to ensure her safety. Worry indicated…more.
“I didn’t realize you had one about to foal,” she said into the silence, worrying his coat’s braided leather belt.
Cripes, she’d forgotten she’d gone outside in just her nightgown and his coat. A couple of stablehands lived in the outbuilding just a few feet away. What was she thinking? One of them could’ve wandered out to check out the light she’d turned on at any time. She wasn’t indecent, and she also wasn’t embarrassed about being with the guys, but did she need to fuel the gossip fire that much?
An abundance of excellent sex had obviously addled her brain.
“Yeah, she’s got a couple weeks left at most.” He walked closer, his footsteps heavy on the haystrewn concrete. She was shivering long before his mouth settled against the pulse in her throat. “You weren’t planning on defying us and going out on a ride, were you, baby?”
“Defying you?” Her voice was as shaky as her body was burning up. From desire and irritation, from chagrin and defiance. God, so many emotions were pinging around inside her right now. “What am I, a horse you need to train?”
“No, you’re a smart, sexy, funny woman who makes us crazy.” His teeth skimmed the frenetic beat under her skin and liquid pooled between her legs. “It’s not safe,” he said again, and she closed her eyes before he could see her roll them. “Not just because of coyotes, but there are snakes and other animals in the underbrush. All kinds of things to make a horse jump.”
“I wouldn’t have gone far—”
“Not at all. Do you understand me?” He turned her toward him and cupped her chin with one hand. The other palmed her breast through her nearly sheer gown. “We won’t risk you. Or allow you to risk yourself.”
“I’m not some rube. I’ve lived here for six years,” she began, finding it hard to speak while his calloused thumb tormented her tight nipple through the material.
“Six years.” He shook his head, laughing softly. But his eyes were pure heat in the wavering light from the lantern she held in a death grip. “Six years isn’t long enough to know this land. To understand what you’re dealing with. Not out there, and not with us.” He backed her up against the rough-hewn wood of the stall and hiked up her leg, wrapping it around his waist. His rigid cock nestled into the triangle of her legs, pressing insistently. “You really want to argue with two cowboys who could put you over our laps and spank your ass raw?”
Distantly, she was aware of Cupcake rustling behind her, but all she could think about was getting more. More of him rocking into her, more of that fierce, focused need centered on her face. Both of them utterly consumed by ordinary, ungainly Paige Wilcox.
“You think you scare me?” She lifted her chin. “Hell no. You can only spank me if I want it. If I let you.”
Even as she said it, the fingers of her free hand curled around his wrist. She hoped like hell he got the message that she was setting up a dangerous game, because if he pulled the gentleman card and backed away now, she was going to lose her mind.
“You think so, sweetheart?” He tipped his forehead against hers, his breathing choppy. He was every bit as affected by their foreplay as she was. “Test us and find out.”
“What us? I only see you right now.”
“Go ahead and run,” he murmured into her mouth. “See if we catch you.”
She didn’t think. Didn’t question if she was creating an unhealthy precedent. There were games, and there was sex, and she really wasn’t sure how far she could push them.
That was a huge part of the thrill.
She shoved the lantern in his chest and used his moment’s surprise to take off running. She scrambled a bit on the hay, losing her footing, but quickly regained it and sprinted out of the stable and down the path to the house.
His loud footsteps pounded behind her. He was close, too close.
As she neared the house, coat flapping in the breeze, she debated running around the side or heading back in and sprinting out the front. He’d expect her to disappear outside. So many more places to hide.
What he didn’t get was that she really wanted to be caught.
At the last second, she veered back to the house. She charged up the steps to the back porch, her heartbeat stampeding in her ears. Perspiration slicked between her shoulder blades and her lungs were screaming. But she couldn’t stop now. Not yet.
She opened the screen door, prepared to dart inside, and slammed into a rock-hard chest.
Panting, she glanced up at Colt’s narrowed eyes. “Oh fuck.”
He tipped up her chin with a single fingertip as the clomp of boots behind her on the porch told her she was well and truly surrounded. An equally hard chest pressed into her backside and she moaned, so turned on she couldn’t even think to be nervous about what they might do.
“Going somewhere, darlin’?” Colt asked softly.
10
Drake stared down at Paige where she was trapped between them. Her longing and excitement was a palpable thing, coiling ropes of need around his cock and his neck, making it hard to breathe. “She’s not going anywhere, are you, Paige?”
Silently, she shook her head.
“Still, think maybe we better take some precautions.” Colt tugged off the leather belt from around Drake’s coat and looped it around her wrists, smothering her squeal of surprise with a hard kiss. “Don’t want you able to run off now.”
Drake heard the opposite message coming through Colt’s words—he was giving her an out. If she said to stop, everything would end right away.
But she only nodded eagerly, her eyes big and bright in the moonlit kitchen.
“So were you fixin’ on going for a midnight ride there, Paula Revere?” Humor laced Colt’s tone as he walked backward, leading her across the room to the stairs. “Is that why Drake had to go ’round you up again?”
“I was just looking at the horses.”
“Mmm-hmm. Any reason why that couldn’t wait for daylight?”
“I like the dark.”
“Sure you do, Cin. You’re cinnamon-colored all over. But you get especially red when you lie.” He leaned down to kiss her nose, then tugged harder on her makeshift lead. “To bed with you. About time you learn what happens when good girls tell fibs.”
“I’m not that good.”
Drake followed behind her and popped her gently on her delectable ass. “You’re about to prove it.”
Once they were in Drake’s bedroom, Colt pulled off the barn coat and let it fall, then he bent to remove her cowboy boots. Still kneeling, he slid his hands up her shapely legs, drawing the gown up at the same time. The fabric snagged on her nipples so he ripped it straight down the middle, exposing her in an instant.
“Wow.” With her wrists still loosely bound, she leaned back against the bedpost. “You just…just ripped that r
ight off me.”
“I did. And now I’m going to toss you on the bed and have my way with you.” Colt’s rakish grin as he rose and pushed down his silk pajama bottoms blazed right through Drake. “We’re going to.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. But I think I’m going to do the tossing.” After kicking off his boots, Drake picked her up and sent them both tumbling to the mattress. He landed with her, rolling and laughing as she kicked out at him.
“Drake, my hands, dammit. I couldn’t catch my weight.”
“I’ve got you.”
Her lips twitched. “Asshole.”
“Don’t like being out of control, huh?” He dragged her wrists up and wedged a knee between her thighs. “That’s how I felt when I woke up and you were gone. We didn’t know where you were.” His laughter fled. “If you were safe.”
She stopped struggling and frowned. “I guess I didn’t think it was any big deal.”
“Even after we told you otherwise?”
At her shrug, Colt sighed and hit a button beside the bed. The ornate scrollwork-covered mirror above it slid into a panel, revealing the large regular mirror beneath.
No more fancy design to obscure the glass. This one revealed everything.
Colt flicked on the bedside light. “I was hoping we’d be able to talk this out. But it looks like you only understand show, not tell.”
She wriggled, panic flaring over her face. “I don’t do mirrors.”
Colt laughed, but Drake felt the tremor moving under her skin. “Too bad. We’re calling the shots here.”
“No. I can’t. The other one was okay, because you couldn’t see as much—” She broke off and started to elbow Drake away. When that didn’t work, she tried to sit up, but Colt boxed her in, leaning across her. “Colt, don’t.”
“She doth protest too much, me thinks.” Chuckling, he reached up to grab her breast and she made a sound that bordered on pain.
“Colt, don’t,” Drake said, moving his buddy’s hand away. “Give her a second. You all right, sweetheart?”
Colt’s hand fell away and confusion tightened around his eyes. “Darlin’?”
“I don’t look in mirrors. I haven’t for years.” She shut her eyes and laughed weakly. “Okay, that’s stupid. I do look. Obviously I put on makeup and stuff, but that’s my face. Not…not at my body.”
“Why the hell not?”
She frowned and opened her eyes. “Because I’m not some waif. Because I just see flaws. Because my ex-boyfriend told me I was too fat to wear pretty dresses, never mind lay around naked with two buff-as-hell, naked cowboys.”
“What’s his name?” Drake asked, rolling out of bed. She’d called him naked, but he wasn’t, not yet. He still had on his jeans, which would make it easier for him to get dressed and find this motherfucker. “Address?”
Colt rolled out the other side. “Never mind. We’ll find his place ourselves and kill the bastard. Name?”
“What the hell are you doing?” She gaped at them. “You can’t just go…kill him.”
“Sure, we can.” Drake nodded at Colt. “And we’re going to.”
“He’s in New York.”
“Oh. Well, we better start the trip now then.”
She started to laugh. Hard. “You’re both insane. Adorable, but insane.”
“Maybe, but we’re your kind of insane,” Colt said, picking up his pajama bottoms.
“That’s the sterling truth.” She sobered. “Come back to bed, please. Both of you. And stay as you were.” She glanced pointedly at Drake. “You, however, get naked.”
It wasn’t as easy to smile as he wished. He really did want to go lay hands on that jerk ex of hers. “You sure?”
“About you getting naked? Absolutely.”
“Paige.”
“I’m certain.” She sighed. “It’s long past. Like…years. Most of the time, I don’t even think of him. But the body thing, it stuck. My mother helped on that score.”
“Is your mother in Texas?” Colt asked hopefully.
“Why? Planning on offing her too?”
“No, just going to rough her up a bit.” Laughing, he held up his hands. “Kidding.”
“Get back in bed.”
“Sure?” Drake undid his jeans and pushed them down, along with his boxers. “Because if we do, we’re still doing that punishment thing we discussed.”
She glanced up at the mirror.
“We can close that, though.” Colt moved to the switch.
“No, wait.” She took a deep breath. “Can we just try it? I might not look at it much. I probably won’t. But it feels like I’m letting him win if we close it. And he’s not here.”
“Neither is your mother,” Colt said drily. “Gotta say I’m glad about that one too.”
“If my hands were free right now, I’d nail you in the face with a pillow.”
Colt dropped his pajama bottoms back on the floor and rolled onto the bed, then caged her in with his arms and hips. “Guess I’ll just nail you instead.”
“Paige.” Drake set his folded clothes on the chest next to the bed. “Are you certain you’re okay with this? We’ll cover the mirror and unbind your wrists…all you have to do is ask.”
“Going to stitch my nightie back together too?”
“Colt is pretty handy with a needle.”
Colt only grunted.
She laughed softly and shook her head. “No. We were having fun. I don’t want my issues to ruin the night. I want…” She blew out a breath. “I want to be punished.”
Drake didn’t need to hear another word.
“Flip her over,” he said to Colt.
“Wait, flip me—oof,” she said into the pillow once Colt had obliged.
“This way you can’t see us spank your pretty ass until it’s pink. But we can.” Drake moved to the side of the bed and stretched her bound wrists above her head so she could lay more comfortably. Once she was in position, he stroked her hair. “Then we’ll take turns licking you until you can’t breathe.”
“Waiting for the punishment part,” she said breathlessly.
Colt leaned close and spoke against her hair. “Did we forget to mention that? We’re going to do all that, and we’re not going to let you come.”
“Say what?” She tried to look over her shoulder, but Drake gently turned her face back toward the pillow.
“You have one job right now. To take what we give you, and to remember why.”
“That’s two jobs.”
“Add another three spankings,” he told Colt.
“Only three?” Colt tugged lightly on her thick hair. “Don’t go easy on her.”
“Sadists,” she muttered.
Drake glanced at Colt and smiled. He’d expected tonight to be awkward. He’d blown his best friend, for God’s sake. But the rhythm between them was as natural as if it had never happened.
Part of him wondered if that was because Colt was doing what he did best—hiding in Denialsville. He simply didn’t know. One thing he did know was that he couldn’t force Colt to accept more than he was ready to, in his own timeframe and at his own speed. If right now, he could only do, not process, that was just fine with him. Drake would give him all the time in the world to figure out his next move. As long as he didn’t shut him out. Or shut out Paige.
Gorgeous, sweet Paige, who was so headstrong and being so brave about facing an issue she’d obviously had for a while. As hard as it was for him to believe she didn’t see her beauty—to his mind, she was absolutely perfect just the way she was—he could understand how she’d let what other people had said take root and fester. He’d done that too.
After Colt had inadvertently hurt him last year by turning his back on what had happened that night with Beth, Drake had relived the taunts he’d gotten as a kid in high school when he’d become known as someone who liked boys as much as girls. Colt hadn’t said one negative word to him about the handjob. Hell, he wouldn’t. Colt wasn’t built that way. But Drake had let his bu
ddy’s seeming dismissal bring back all his old fears.
Most of the time, he was incredibly confident and at ease with his sexuality, fluid as it was. But no one could knock him as off-kilter as his best friend.
And now, this lovely woman spread out in front of them. Wrists bound, hands clasped, ass upturned to the strokes Colt was applying in equal measure with smacks.
“What number was that?” Colt asked, voice low.
“Four.” Her chin wobbled as she turned her head. “Are we done yet?”
Colt chuckled and slid his fingers along the crack of her ass, dipping down into the moisture Drake glimpsed between her thighs. “Not quite yet. You’re not dripping.”
She squirmed and pressed back against his hand, obviously wanting him to drive his fingers inside. He didn’t give her what she wanted. Nope, he intended to make her beg.
“Your turn,” he said to Drake, shifting aside.
Drake readily took up the position between her thighs. His cock tilted toward her ass like a divining rod. It wanted inside that tight pink pucker, just like the rest of him did.
Soon. But not yet.
“Four more, baby,” Drake said, peppering her ass with quick slaps without giving her a respite in between. He kept her off-guard, alternating the pressure, then added one extra for good measure.
And because he loved that rosy flush on her skin that branded her as theirs.
She was sobbing and squirming, opening her legs to show them the swollen pink slit that now gleamed with her excitement. Kinky little minx.
“Do you feel suitably punished now?” Drake murmured against the back of her head.
Out of the corner of his eye, the blur of Colt’s hand shuttling up and down his dick made his own stand even more at attention. Which basically was a feat of nature, because he was already as hard as iron.
“Yes. Yes. Paige does not…ride at night. Paige…does not…pass Go. She does not get two…hundred…oh fuck me, please.”
