Two Wild for Teacher: Lone Star Lovers, Book 6

by Delilah Devlin

  So, why did the word yes feel as though it sat perched on the tip of her tongue, ready to take flight? Was it because she didn’t have a boyfriend or plans for a romantic summer? Until that moment, she’d been happy about that fact.

  Molly’s house loomed in the distance and she sped up again, trying not to think about what they might be looking at. Her butt might be a little soft, but there was muscle underneath. She lifted her arms and power-walked the rest of the way home.

  Chapter Two

  Jason couldn’t get enough of watching the flex of Miz Prichet’s ass. It was delectable. Not a word he often thought, but then, Miz Pritchet had been his and Mace’s English teacher, and he’d learned a whole new vocabulary in his quest to please her. She still inspired him, so it seemed.

  Mace turned his head toward him. “Do you think she knows we’re checkin’ out her ass?”

  Jason flashed a grin. “Why do you think she’s walkin’ so fast?”

  “This might be harder than we thought,” Mace muttered. “She didn’t seem happy to see us.”

  “Told you just because she was single didn’t mean she was desperate. A woman like her has a lot to offer a man. Why the hell would she want us? We have to convince her we’re serious. That we have plenty to offer a woman like her.”

  Mace grinned. “Maybe we should kidnap her.”

  Jason gave his twin a scowl. “Just ’cause it worked with Ellie doesn’t mean it would with her. She’s a lady.”

  Mace’s eyes narrowed. “And Ellie’s not?”

  “Ellie’s…earthier.”

  “Earthier?” Mace chuckled. “You’re just brushin’ up to talk to Miz Pritchet.”

  “So what if I am?” Jason said, tucking his thumbs into his front pockets. “It’s gonna take more to impress her than givin’ her a wink.”

  Mace’s grin dimmed. “Man, maybe we should’ve asked Killian for some pointers.”

  “Let’s just stick to the plan.” And they were running out of time to put it into motion. The schoolmarm’s house was just ahead. A quaint little clapboard house, painted a pale blue, a shallow garden of flowers flanking both sides of the front porch and rose bushes climbing a privacy fence. The grassy lawn, however, looked in need of a good mowing.

  The woman they both watched so intently bounded up her front steps and fished in her purse for her keys. She looked in a hurry to get the door open and to get them out of her hair.

  “One good thing,” Jason said, eyeing her flushed face.

  “What’s that?”

  “We bother her. Has to mean somethin’.”

  Mace snorted. “Might just mean she wants us gone.”

  “Might mean she’s more attracted than she wants to be.”

  They shared a glance, both starting to smile again.

  Mace pursed his lips and began to whistle.

  Jason ran up the steps and reached out to take the keys she’d pulled from her purse. Her mouth dropped open, no doubt to deliver a set-down, but he tugged on the keys. She held firm. So did the set of her pretty, lush lips. He pulled again and she let go, but her chin rose higher, two spots of red blooming on her cheeks.

  He unlocked the door, pushed it open, and then held it for her to enter first. “You just tell us where you want us to put the box.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll take it. It’s going in my office.”

  “Which way’s that?”

  “Upstairs, but—”

  Before she’d finished the thought, Mace brushed past her and headed straight up the stairs.

  Jason followed on his heels.

  “Boys! I said I can manage.”

  Her shout sounded more like a wail, and he nearly laughed. But he hid a smile and turned to find her right behind him. “But why should you have to?” he asked. “It’s no bother.”

  “Well it shouldn’t take two of you,” she huffed.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes, ma’am, it does.”

  A scowl furrowed her forehead, and she raced up the stairs then pushed past both of them to quickly close her bedroom door, but not before they’d gotten an eyeful.

  Miz Pritchet’s bedroom was a sultry surprise—rich red bedspread, the covers mussed and turned back, a slinky pink nightgown tossed over an arm chair. Fresh flowers on the dresser, a vanity covered in perfume bottles and feminine items Jason couldn’t wait to sniff and explore.

  “My office is down here,” she said, glaring at them through glasses that made her eyes look larger.

  Still smiling, the men trailed down the soft, pale beige carpet toward the door she held open.

  Mace settled the box atop the cherry-wood desk and stepped back. Both men stared around the room. The walls were covered with pictures of smiling young faces, her students.

  This woman needs to be a mother, Jason thought, and knew by his brother’s satisfied expression that he was thinking the same exact thing.

  “Thank you for your help,” Miz Pritchet said, slightly out of breath, her hands folding over her middle. “I appreciate it very much.”

  She was dismissing them. Her intent was clear.

  Mace tipped his hat. “It was my pleasure, ma’am.” His words caused her blush to intensify.

  Jason gave her a wide smile. “Be seein’ you, ma’am.” And sooner than you think.

  Turning on his heel, he whistled all the way down the hall and stairs, all the way out the front door, which he closed softly behind him.

  “Yeah, we made the right choice, bro,” Mace said, meeting his gaze.

  Jason was pleased by the stubborn set of his brother’s jaw. Mace was every bit as sure Miz Pritchet needed them in her life.

  “No doubt about it,” Jason murmured. “Never saw a woman who needed a man more. Two of us’ll be more than she can refuse.”

  Mace nodded, then blew out a deep breath. “But how we gonna convince her?”

  Jason took a look around her spotless front porch and raggedy yard. “I have an idea. We’re about to become indispensible.”

  Mace’s gaze followed his, glancing at the thick Bermuda, the flowers, then locking gazes again. His eyes gleamed with humor. “We’ll have her so flustered she won’t know which end’s up.”

  Jason chuckled. “Oh, she’ll know. The trick’ll be gettin’ her so she won’t give a damn.”

  Molly felt more herself as she took a long, cool shower. She stood under the showerhead and let the water beat her head, long enough her toes were wrinkled and her mind was blank.

  However, her traitorous body was slow to let go of the arousal both men had stoked. As she slicked rose-scented soap over her skin, she massaged her heavy breasts, pinching the tips now and then to keep them throbbing. She slid a hand between her parted legs and glided fingers between her folds, felt the ripened nub at the top and swirled around and around it until her breath caught and held.

  She rubbed a moment longer, but fingers weren’t enough. Hers were too soft, too slender. She craved something substantial pushing up inside her. Damn them.

  Breathing hard, she turned the tap to add a distinct chill to the water, then pressed both hands against the tiled wall. At last her heart slowed to its usual, unnoticeably steady beat. She switched off the cool water and reached for the fluffy towel hanging from a peg beside the door. She held it to her face, drying her eyes and cheeks, and inhaling the reassuring fragrance of the springlike conditioner she used in her wash.

  Nothing teased her senses. Not a whiff of male cologne or musk.

  Now, she was ready to start her summer. And she had plans. This year, she’d put in more flowers, maybe dig a bit in the backyard and put in the koi pond, something she’d dreamed about doing and had already begun to assemble the things she’d need to complete the project. On her salary, it was a splurge, but it wasn’t like she didn’t have the money in the bank to handle it.

  Fact was, she was a frugal woman with modest needs. She didn’t spend a lot on clothes, did her own nails, and other than a trim a couple of times a year, did
n’t spend it at the beauty shop. Her house was finished to her liking. However, her yard, especially the backyard, was in need of a little TLC to make it a perfect haven from the world.

  She opened the towel and swung it behind her, rubbing her back and bottom then brought it forward to dry her breasts. The terrycloth abraded her nipples, just enough she was aware but not enough to excite. She’d had enough excitement for one day.

  The twins had had their fun. Her mind almost got away from her when she thought about how they’d looked, standing in her bedroom doorway to peek inside.

  Something no man had ever done. Not since she’d had her satellite dish and receivers installed had a man even traipsed up her stairs, and that had been shortly after she’d bought the house her second year in Two Mule. Not that she was a prude, but, at first, she’d been busy trying to be the best teacher she could, spending evenings over lesson plans, tutoring after school, lending her supervision to several school-related clubs.

  When she’d finally grown comfortable in her job and her role, she’d felt awkward stepping outside it. Sure, she attended functions at church, but there again, parents sought her out to talk about their children. She’d begun to feel as though her life was predetermined, that maybe, this was all she was supposed to be. A child’s teacher. Never his or her mother. And the thought of the actual baby-making… She no longer felt comfortable in her own skin. When she looked into a mirror, she saw a pale moon of a face, a figure more suited to plain shirts and dowdy skirts than one that might entice a healthy, horny male.

  The sexual side of her was dormant, unawakened, except for brief moments like today, whenever she spied the twins in town or at the diner. Always, the two of them reminded her of her first days here, about her unexpected and unwanted attraction to them both.

  Molly rubbed the soft terry over her nipples again. The tips were fully engorged, so sensitive each back and forth pass shot darts of hunger straight toward her womb.

  Not that she was ashamed about how easily they affected her. Intellectually, she understood her reactions were natural. They were beautiful specimens of manhood who exuded sexual confidence. Something she, as a relative novice, responded to on a very primal level…

  Primal. A word she loved. One that made her think of sweaty, naked bodies. A word she could roll around her tongue…

  And good Lord, she was thinking about them again! Her skin felt warmer, her breasts heavier, her nipples tingly and tight.

  In the moment she stood inventorying her physical reactions, she was right back at square one—intensely aroused and overheated. Her brain short-circuiting, letting her hunger grow.

  She wondered where she’d stashed the vibrator she’d bought the last time she’d visited her family in Houston. She’d been shopping with her sister Sarah who had nagged her about all the elusive details regarding her private life until she’d discovered Molly didn’t have a sex life to gossip about. Sarah had made it her mission to find her a vibrator sure to awaken her dormant hormones.

  The unopened box was probably somewhere deep in her closet. Top shelf, behind her Snuggie. And if that wasn’t the definition of a spinster, she didn’t know what was. Short of the prerequisite dozen cats, she was well on her way.

  She finished with the towel, hung it over the rail to dry, slipped her glasses on and reached for her robe for the walk to her bedroom, but then decided she could walk naked through her own damn house. Feeling daring, and knowing it was daylight so her silhouette passing any windows wouldn’t be seen from the road, she strode into her bedroom, picked up the stool in front of her vanity and carried it to the closet.

  When she was on her tiptoes atop the cushioned seat, reaching to the farthest corner, she heard a sound coming from her backyard. A metallic chink, then a soft masculine curse.

  Curious, she leaned back and tugged her lace curtains to open them just a couple inches and peered down through the branches of the mimosa tree, into her yard. The sight that greeted her caused her breath to hitch.

  The twins stood in her backyard, in the center of the area she’d neatly staked and tied with twine to define the place she intended to put her koi pond. And they’d made a mess. Clumps of turf lay beside the big hole they’d dug. Water ran freely from a hose into the middle of a muddy pit. The black pool liner she’d bought and left leaning against the garage had been dragged beside the hole.

  Anger flushed another kind of heat through her veins, and she climbed off the stool, hurried to the bathroom for her robe, and then she was stomping down her stairs to the sliding glass door, which she slammed open with all her righteous anger.

  Two begrimed faces turned her way. Before she let herself think better of her plan, she was standing in front of them with her sheer bathrobe flapping in a breeze and staring at two broad, naked muddy chests. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, trying to temper her voice, because she didn’t want neighbors hearing her screeching like a banshee.

  Mace’s gaze raked over her body. “Wishin’ I had x-ray vision,” he drawled.

  Molly scowled and clutched the lapels of her robe in one hand. “I’m talking about this!” she said, waving her other hand at the rapidly filling hole.

  Mace shrugged. “Dirt was too hard. And since we couldn’t find a pick or a backhoe in your garage—”

  “You think I’d have a backhoe?”

  “Or a pick…”

  “You were rummaging through my garage?” she said, her voice raising.

  “It wasn’t locked.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why are you digging up my yard?”

  “We saw the stakes, found the pool that fits the space you marked off…” He shrugged again, a little smile tilting up the corners of his mouth as he gave her body another sly once-over.

  She hoped like hell the bright sunshine wasn’t giving him that x-ray vision. “I don’t need your help. And now I have a huge mess—”

  Jason cleared his throat, pulling her attention to a sharp, crystal gaze alight with amusement. “It only looks like a mess ’cause of the mud. But actually, we have more dug here than you can see.”

  Molly gaped at both men, covered in sweat and dirt, but somehow still looking more attractive than she could stand. She felt moisture pool beneath her feet and glanced down at the hose still gurgling water into the pit they’d dug. Before she could suppress the urge, she bent and picked it up, pressed her thumb over the end to increase the pressure and aimed it at Jason, spraying him with water.

  His eyes closed and he stood in the stream, water running off his face to his chest and soaking his jeans.

  Mace erupted in laughter, but quickly shut up the moment she turned the hose on him. When he lifted a foot to climb out of the hole, he slipped and landed on his butt in the middle of the muddy pool.

  Elation filled her and she laughed, still spraying. But Jason climbed on his hands and knees, over the edge, toward her. She dropped the hose and turned to make a run for it, but he caught the hem of her bathrobe, and jerked it toward him.

  Her feet slipped beneath her and she began to fall backward…into a pair of strong arms which wrapped around her and carried her down to one side of the muddy pit, to soft, gooey ground—with those same arms buffeting the fall.

  When she caught her breath, she was covered head to toe by one very wet, very amused man. Mud oozed between her toes and beneath the back of her robe, and both lapels had pulled apart. Although his body shielded her from view, nothing stood between their naked chests.

  Jason leaned to one side and lifted one finger.

  Her eyes nearly crossed watching it descend toward her face.

  He pushed up her glasses. “Seems we got ourselves a situation here,” he drawled, settling on his elbows to take a little of his weight off her.

  She opened her mouth to demand he move, but then Mace sauntered into view to take up a position leaning against her back porch to watch the couple in the muddy hole. If Jason did move, both men would have an unencumbered
view of her torso.

  Molly became aware of every sensation: the heavy chest pressing against her stiff nipples, the jut of his jeans-enclosed sex against her mound. She swallowed hard. “Seems we do. I…apologize for acting like a crazy woman.”

  Jason grunted and his chest jerked against hers. “You’re not sorry.”

  Knowing she was at a distinct disadvantage, she nevertheless lifted her chin. “It’s just plain rude to disagree with me. I’m trying to handle this delicately.”

  “Only handlin’ to be done will be done by me—and Mace here, if you ask real pretty.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Shock vibrated through her. “You did not just say that to me.”

  His eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened just a fraction. “I said it. I’d like to do a whole lot more. Fact is, I like the way you feel, Miz Pritchet, all stretched out underneath me.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “This was a mistake.”

  “Moved up our timetable a bit, but this is no mistake.”

  “Your timetable?” she parroted dumbly, her mind and tongue seeming to freeze as he moved against her, snuggling the bulge in the front of his jeans between her legs.

  “We planned to woo you gently, like you deserve,” he said, his tone silky, “by spendin’ time with you, helpin’ you sink that pond, then maybe enjoyin’ a meal before we sweet-talked you into that pretty bed you’ve got upstairs.”

  “That would never happen. I was your teacher.”

  “See there? That’s a piss-poor excuse, ma’am. Pardon my French, but that was eight years ago. We aren’t kids anymore.”

  “I’m still older than you. Old enough not to want to play games.”

  “Only by five years. Not enough to cause anyone any problems. Unless you don’t think we’re good enough for you. You should know, we ain’t exactly without prospects.”

  Molly held still, resisting the need to squirm beneath him even though the urge was strong. His jeans-covered cock was right there, and the thought of the friction… “You keep saying we. Do you seriously expect me to…be with both of you?” She sniffed. “It’s sinful to even suggest it.”