The Divine Creek Ranch Collection Volume 3

by Heather Rainier

  Kendall suckled the flesh of her throat where it met her shoulder and latched on as his touch at her clit became downright demanding. When he pressed his fingers together over her clit she froze, suspended, waiting for the next sensation. Kendall’s muscular arm tightened around her, and it was just enough of a restraint that her orgasm exploded in wildfire all around her. She bucked and screamed as he continued rubbing her clit, and she rode every wave until she melted against Kendall.

  “Yes!”

  Richard reached orgasm first, and she watched as he flexed and arched his gloriously strong body over hers. The pleasure of his orgasm was etched majestically on his face as he groaned in bliss. Kendall soon followed, holding her firmly to him as he froze and growled in satisfaction. As tightly as she was filled, she could feel every pulse in their cocks as they came, and she loved it.

  The breeze returned as they lay motionless, panting. Maya tingled everywhere.

  When the power of speech returned to her, she whispered, “Thank you for making my fantasy real.”

  Kendall kissed her cheek as he held her, still planted deeply in her ass. “You did the same thing for us, baby. Thank you.”

  Kendall withdrew carefully, removed the condom, then used the hand towel she’d packed in the plastic tub to clean her up. Her ass tingled as he wiped the excess lubricant from her, and she smiled at the thought that she’d feel that tingle for the rest of the day. Richard released her thigh and stroked it as he pulled out as well.

  She cuddled up with them for a little while and listened to the sounds of their breathing and the bird calls as the zephyrs blew through the towering oak trees.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  At Discretion the following day, Maya and Rachel stood at the lingerie counter rearranging a display of silk rumba panties when Maya’s phone vibrated with an incoming text. She’d decided to turn it on that Monday morning after leaving it off for several days. When she’d powered it up there had been more text messages from Frank Reeves, among others. After their reaction to the number of e-mails waiting for her in her e-mail inbox, she’d decided to delete the messages and just let it go. There was no point in getting the men in any more of an uproar than they already were about the blog and the note that had been left for her.

  She opened the text from Grace which read, “I’m stopping at the store on my way back to the shop. Do you need anything?”

  Maya texted back, “No. We’re fine.”

  “Okay. I had a craving for java fudge ice cream and a dildo and wondered if you wanted anything.”

  Maya burst into laughter as she read the message out loud to Rachel.

  Rachel snickered and said, “Auto-correct wins again.”

  Maya’s phone vibrated again. “Oh my God! That is not what I typed! I wanted a frickin’ dill penis!”

  Maya doubled over laughing as she handed the phone to Rachel. Rachel texted back, “I don’t think the guys will take well to you soaking their junk in vinegar.”

  Two seconds later the phone vibrated again. “Pickles! I wanted dill pickles! Oh fucking never mind. I hate this phone! LMAO!”

  “If that’s her auto-correct, it makes me wonder what her ‘saved words’ list must look like.”

  Rachel smirked and replied, “Well, between ‘sexting’ with Ethan and using it for work, I would imagine it reads like bad porn.”

  “Bow-chicka-wow-wow,” Maya said and they both burst into giggles again.

  “Auto-correct, two points. Grace, zero points.”

  Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of something hitting the front glass windows.

  Maya asked, “What was that?”

  Peeking out the lace-curtained window, Rachel groaned. Maya looked, too, and saw the broken egg shells on the porch and the wet smear of egg running down the windows.

  “Damn it. They would pull this on the day I wear my new shoes,” Rachel said as she slipped out of her brand-new stiletto booties and cuffed up her blue jeans. “I’d better get the hose. As hot as it is today the egg will be cooked to whatever surface it’s on. We ought to check the Tundra, too.”

  They went out the front door, looking around, but whoever it was hadn’t hung around for pleasantries.

  “Cowards,” Rachel muttered as she gave the handle on the faucet a spin and pointed the hose at the wall by the front door and began rinsing egg from the front of the building. “We aren’t within the city limits. Discretion is so far out we’re practically on the county line. We don’t have flashing neon signs or a gigantic parking lot full of eighteen-wheelers. We don’t have an enormous sign with ‘adult videos’ on it, we don’t offer peep shows, and the police have never had to respond to a disturbance of any kind out here. Why these assholes feel they should harass us is beyond me.”

  “This has happened before?”

  “Several times. Once it happened on a Sunday, and I came in Monday morning to find Summer and Margot out here with scrub brushes and buckets because the egg had hardened and wouldn’t rinse off.”

  “Do the men know?”

  “Yeah, but we all attributed it to kids pulling pranks. We had a sign posted on the window letting folks know that even though it was prom season and we carry women’s formals, we still didn’t allow minors in the store. We had a few complaints from moms who liked the store and were willing to come in with their daughters to chaperone them, but Summer and Margot stood firm about that rule, for obvious reasons. Word would get out and it would get blown out of proportion. We figured it was just kids ‘protesting’ what they saw as an injustice, since the egging started about that time. Prom season is way over now.”

  Cringing as she approached the vehicle, Maya was relieved to find more egg, but no other property damage. Rachel brought the hose over, and they quickly had the Tundra washed down.

  Standing next to Rachel’s truck, Maya saw a large figure run from the backyard of the shop and jump over the fence into the wooded area beyond.

  “Rachel! Someone was in the back!” Maya hollered as she ran to the back of the building.

  “Don’t go back—Shit! Wait for me! I’m so not feeling up to this!” Rachel groused as they ran along the side of the venerable old house. Maya turned the corner and was assailed by the odor of smoke.

  “Crap! Call 911, Maya!” Rachel barked as she grabbed the water hose on the back porch to douse the flames creeping along the wall and the old doormat. Someone had tried to set the shop on fire. Smoke filled the air as Rachel sprayed down the walls, praying the whole time for the fire not to spread.

  Five minutes later the Tarkett County Volunteer Fire Department’s Fire and Rescue equipment filled the parking lot. Rachel and Maya backed off, allowing the firefighters to do their work. Thanks to finding it so soon, the fire hadn’t had a chance to get inside the walls or to do much more than a little cosmetic damage. They treated Rachel and Maya for smoke inhalation, though they’d both insisted it wasn’t necessary. The smoke had exacerbated Rachel’s ever-present nausea, and the EMTs, many of whom knew Eli, took their jobs seriously as they treated her.

  Thirty minutes later, Eli, Rachel, Grace, Jack, Kendall, Maya, Summer, and Margot were all standing in the parking lot, talking with the fire chief and the sheriff.

  Maya gave a description of the person she’d seen fleeing over the fence. All she’d been able to remember was that it had been a very tall man with dark hair and dressed in blue jeans and T-shirt.

  Summer’s sister Margot asked, “So this has been more than just teenaged pranksters all this time?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It may have started out a few weeks ago, like you said, with kids. But today’s incident with the egg-throwing sounds like a means to distract you so they could set the fire. If Ms. Daire hadn’t been as observant, by the time you’d gotten back inside it might have been too late for this old house,” the sheriff said, shaking his head sympathetically.

  Nodding to Summer and Margot, the fire chief said, “Ladies, does anybody live upstairs?”

 
Summer replied, “At the moment, no. But there is a large apartment up there. I was considering moving into it, so someone is always here.”

  The handsome Tarkett County Sheriff, David Northup, said, “I’d definitely see about setting up a security system if you do, ma’am. Call if you need us. Sorry about your back porch.”

  Summer nodded and smiled at him and thanked the men before they left. The fire department gathered all their equipment and departed soon after.

  The men walked the ladies back to the storefront, and Grace gasped as she walked past her Escalade. “Oh! Shoot!” Maya snickered when she even stomped her foot.

  “What is it, darlin’?” Jack asked, the picture of husbandly concern.

  “My ice cream! It’s sitting on the front seat melted!” She pulled open her car door and carefully lifted out the plastic bag containing her pint of ice cream.

  Summer held out a hand. “Let me put it in the freezer, Grace. It won’t be as good the second time around but it’ll still make a nice snack.”

  Grace lifted the bag containing the half gallon jar of dill pickles that had inspired so much levity earlier and followed them inside. “I had my mouth all set for java fudge ice cream.”

  Rachel snorted. “How about java fudge milk shake? Hey, can I have some pickles, too?”

  * * * *

  Saturday night, Maya adjusted the strap on her red lace push-up bra and tied a knot under her breasts with the shirt tails of her costume. With Summer’s help she’d found the perfect costume for Margaritaville Night at The Dancing Pony.

  She’d decided on a 1940s pin-up girl’s costume—red gingham shirt with lots of cleavage showing, red shorts that showed way more than they covered of her upper thighs, and cherry red peep-toe pumps. She’d even managed to get in to Madeleine’s to have her hair styled in an updo that would’ve made Betty Grable proud.

  Touching up her cherry-red lipstick, she smiled at herself in the mirror and liked what she saw. The smiling woman looking back at her appeared younger, relaxed, and in love.

  After flipping off the light switch, Maya walked down the hall to the living room where her men waited in their flip-flops, shorts, and Hawaiian-print shirts “a la Jimmy Buffet.” Satisfaction filled her heart when all three of their jaws popped open. Their eyes bulged as she did a slow turn and cocked a hip at them.

  “Dayum, babydoll!” Kendall crowed as he gave her the once-over and closed the distance between them. He traced his fingertips around her waist as he walked around her and then pulled her into his arms. The hardening ridge of his cock pressed against her, and her body responded. Boone and Richard joined them.

  “You’re a knockout in that outfit. Out of it, too,” Boone murmured as he pressed his warm lips to the back of her neck above her shirt collar. His words and his touch sent a flurry of tingles to her nipples and beyond.

  Richard kissed her and said, “You look gorgeous, Maya. Let’s get out of here before we all wind up back in bed. Not that I would object, mind you.”

  * * * *

  Grace sat in Ethan’s lap, watching Summer and her date with growing concern. Rachel had pronounced Summer to be an “asshole magnet,” and the appellation was certainly proving true this evening. When Grace and Teresa had first met her, barely two years before, Grace had thought the beautiful, voluptuous woman exuded confidence. In the interim, she’d discovered that while Summer did truly brim with self-assurance, she held hidden from almost everyone a plus-sized woman’s vulnerability and insecurity.

  Add to that the fact she’d attracted a string of admirers in the last two years that had each been successively worse that the last. Grace had thought the last had been the worst, but she was being proved wrong tonight.

  Grace had offered to set Summer up on a blind date tonight and had even known the perfect guy for her. But when Grace had called her, Summer had assured her she already had a date for that night’s bash. Summer had only come to The Dancing Pony a few times, for reasons Grace still didn’t understand.

  Summer sat with her date, Kent Hargrove, and the others making small talk. They hadn’t discussed the blog or the reason for the big Margaritaville Night party because there were people present who knew nothing about it. In addition there were people in attendance who were not there for friendly reasons. The goal was to catch them in the act.

  Grace wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Ethan, Jack, and Adam had a personal hand in dealing out retribution to the person responsible.

  “Earth to Grace,” Ethan whispered in her ear as her thoughts rambled. His warm hand, which had been caressing her abdomen and their sleeping daughter inside her, strayed up her side. His thumb brushed along the side of her breast in a tender, secretive touch, and her ultra-sensitive nipples hardened into tingling peaks. She was wearing her pink satin-and-lace shelf bra at his request beneath her sexy, but flowing, pink-and-white patterned silk dress. It was maternity wear and looked good on her, but her burgeoning middle had begun to give her doubts.

  What would she look like after Rose Marie arrived? Would her waist and abdomen ever return to normal? Would her breasts sag? Charity had assured her they would, a bit. In her typical no-nonsense fashion, Charity had told her that her figure would never be the same, but her men would cherish her regardless of whether her abdomen ever returned to its original muscle tone or her breasts lost a little of their firmness.

  She’d told Grace that in some ways, her husband, Justin, seemed to treat her body after the kids had been born in a way that approached worship.

  Knowing her men already had adoration down to an art form, Grace tried not to worry too much.

  Her body tingled all over now, as she recalled the tenderness with which Ethan had made love to her earlier, bringing her to orgasm with his mouth, and then he had loved her with his cock to a second exquisite climax. The adoration in his sparkling blue gaze the whole time had added an even deeper emotional element to their lovemaking, and any doubts she’d had about her beauty before or after Rose Marie arrived were laid to rest.

  Afterward, Ethan had helped her dress. With her body still tingling from his lovemaking, Grace knew he had picked the lingerie to maximize the effect. The dress rubbed deliciously against her nipples, keeping them constantly hard, though the pattern of the dress made that fact much less noticeable.

  The pink lace boyshorts were a luxuriant, stretchy lace that clung to her curves but didn’t bind beneath her rounded abdomen. The added benefit of the boy shorts was that the center seam was split and joined together by neat little bows which could be undone.

  Ethan had demonstrated that a well-placed finger could also slip easily between the bows for a quick, naughty caress against her clit. The notion of him doing that now as she sat in his lap had her cunt clenching in anticipation.

  Ethan gave her a knowing smile as he gazed at her, and Grace was certain he knew exactly what was going through her mind. She glanced up and smiled playfully when she realized Jack and Adam were watching them with interest obvious in their gazes.

  “What lascivious thoughts lurk in your mind, Gracie?” Ethan asked as his other hand slid surreptitiously from the back of her bare knee to her upper thigh under the dress.

  It was a good thing they sat in the corner with the table before them, otherwise his misbehavior would’ve been more noticeable as his hand traced higher to the tender juncture between her upper thigh and derriere. Jack and Adam pretended not to notice.

  Unfortunately, Kent Hargrove’s snide remark filtered though the haze of lust rapidly overtaking good sense.

  “Summer, you need to remember your little niche in the retail world, selling sex toys and bondage gear, might give you a slightly narrower focus than the rest of us.”

  Summer chuckled good-naturedly and replied, “I beg to differ, Kent. Sex sells. Everything. Take the way they design cars, for instance. Look at the new Camaros and the timeless styling of the Corvette for, oh, the last thirty years or so. Corvette, please. They could have more aptly named it the �
�Curvette.’ That rear end is not just about power and tight suspension. Sorry, big boy. That is a woman’s hips and ass. Look at the Ford Shelby Mustang. Add the spoilers, the racing stripes, and pounding stereo and you know what you have, right?”

  Kent rolled his eyes, “No, but I’m sure you’ll share your take on it, won’t you?”

  With his rudeness, he’d just earned himself a permanent “thumbs-down” from Grace. Summer knew exactly what she was talking about.

  Summer giggled and said, “Sorry you’re not feeling it, Kent, but every honest man here will testify that’s an erect cock going down the road at eighty-five miles an hour. Am I wrong?” Summer asked, looking at the other men around the table. She didn’t ask it in an obnoxious way, and her argument was compelling as hell, at least to Grace’s ears.

  “I’m not going to disagree with you, Summer,” Jack said, before adding with a chuckle, “But we thought it was a well-guarded secret.”

  Everybody at the table burst into laughter. Kent didn’t share in the levity of the moment.

  Summer continued, “Which proves the point I was trying to make. Even when we want to deny it or keep it a secret, sex sells everything.”

  Confirming Grace’s firm feeling that Kent didn’t fit well in their group, Ethan whispered, “I could’ve done without this asshole’s presence tonight. Where did Summer find him?”

  “He’s a public relations consultant in Morehead.”

  “Damn. He’s so not hired. He does PR and he argues with his date like that when she’s right?” Ethan murmured as his fingers swirled in a distracting manner against the edge of her panties. “He should treat her with more respect. Does he have any idea how successful Discretion is?”

  “No. And if I’m guessing right by the look in her eyes, he never will.” Summer had glanced up at Grace for a moment, and Grace had seen the disappointment there. Maybe now Summer would finally give Grace a chance to work her matchmaking magic. Sometimes a person had to hit bottom. Grace thought Kent Hargrove represented the bottom of the barrel.