Ballbreaker (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Simone Sinna

  Mike’s document was as she had expected. Raw and undeveloped. She’d need to get him to take it to a specialist consultant to cost it.

  She looked back to her brief, direct from the will. Gerry Stanford had clearly wanted his sons to come to an agreement. One he hadn’t been able to achieve in his lifetime and somehow expected her to now.

  Dressed in the Grace Jones suit, she collected the paperwork and went to meet the men. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

  * * * *

  Mike heard her coming up the corridor but even that much preparation didn’t stop the effect seeing her had. Thinking of her naked breasts last night, that’s how he saw her now. Didn’t help his concentration one bit.

  “This looks good,” said Samantha, putting Jeremy’s document on the table, “but needs to be checked. Has it by any chance persuaded you, Mike?”

  Yeah, that’s likely. Samantha read his expression and didn’t ask for any further clarification.

  “This,” she said of Mike’s paper work, “has some good ideas. You’ll need to go into town and talk about them with someone. I’ll give you a name.”

  “I take it you’re remaining neutral?” Mike heard an edge in Jeremy’s tone. His brother was obviously better at separating his social and work life than he was.

  “We don’t have to vote until the end of the month,” said Samantha, frowning slightly. “Unless all three of us can agree before then.”

  “Why do I think that that isn’t going to happen?”

  Samantha glanced at Jeremy. Something was wrong. This wasn’t just his usual brand of sarcasm. He looked a little…dangerous.

  Mike grinned. “I see an upside to that.” Samantha flashed him a look of gratitude and appeared like she was fighting to stop herself smiling.

  There was a bang on the front door and they all looked up. A minute later, their uncle, John, put his head around the door.

  “See you have a bit of a problem,” he said, taking off his Akubra hat and putting it on the table.

  “What problem is that?” asked Mike irritably.

  “The one that is picketing outside your gate.”

  It wasn’t a large group, maybe twenty people, but they had the press with them taking photos, which ended up including one of a red-faced Mike and a fuming Jeremy as arms and placards were waved.

  “Stop inhumane mulesing now” was the background chant. The poster photos were graphic and deliberately bloody. Samantha watched on, thinking about the maggots she’d seen which hadn’t been pretty either, and wondered if there wasn’t a better way of protecting the sheep without causing them pain.

  “What do you think the future is for the Australian sheep industry?” the reporter asked the Sandford brothers.

  “A strong one,” said Jeremy.

  “Does that mean you’ll use anaesthetic?” yelled a demonstrator.

  “The practice prevents more pain that it causes,” Jeremy said but he was howled down by shouts of “Ethical humane treatment of animals is a must!”

  Jeremy shook his head and after telling them he’d call the police if they went onto his property, returned to the house.

  Mike turned to Samantha. “Fancy a trip into town?”

  * * * *

  Anything was going to be better than facing Jeremy again. PETA wasn’t going to help his case and he would undoubtedly be in a foul mood. Maybe he had known they were coming and that was why he had been so snappy with her before.

  “Did you happen to have anything to do with PETA’s arrival?” Samantha quizzed Mike in the car.

  “Nope, but I have a feeling I might know who did.”

  Samantha mulled on it. “Monica?”

  “Yes,” said Mike grimly as he eased his pickup between the group. “The two girls there? Her best friends. Never known them to be into animal rights before.”

  “But what would she stand to gain?”

  “Making my life miserable,” said Mike. “Tom gets his allowance regardless. She’s furious she can’t get her hands on it and furious that I haven’t succumbed to her charms this time.”

  “So revenge? But it will hurt Jeremy more than you.”

  “She’s just being a complete bitch. She doesn’t have a clue about sheep.”

  “So where are we going?”

  Mike looked like he wanted to confront Monica personally. But perhaps he knew from past experience that he was no match for her, or else didn’t want to risk an assault charge. “To see my lawyer.”

  Mike told her he’d be at least an hour, so Samantha took the opportunity to check out the town. The street was wide and tree-lined, a typical Australian country town with the pub on the corner. There was a decent secondhand book shop and bakery but the only dress shop was local handicraft. A few of the dresses weren’t bad. One of the locals had a flair for colour, but they wouldn’t quite work in the boardroom, and though they weren’t expensive, Samantha restrained herself. Already in debt, she wasn’t sure at the rate she was going her father would pay her a cent for this job.

  To stop herself succumbing, she headed in the direction of the lawyer’s office. Mike was still in the meeting, but the older lawyer in the practice, Martin, introduced himself and invited her to come for a drink. Next door was a café in the midst of a rose nursery. The garden was rich with colour, thick bushes bursting with blooms and arches covered in climbing roses that surrounded her with a deep, rich perfume. Martin ordered an iced tea while she ordered an iced coffee and they sat down in the shade.

  “How you going with those boys?”

  Samantha grimaced.

  Martin shook his head. “Those two have been at it since the day Michael crawled and took one of Jeremy’s toys. Drove their poor mother, rest her soul, to distraction.”

  “Any suggestions how I might succeed where their parents failed?”

  Martin scratched his head, and looked her up and down. “Maybe womanly wiles will help. God knows Gerry tried everything else.”

  “Do you know anything about sheep farming?” asked Samantha. “I mean, they both have very different ideas, PETA is picketing around here. What is everyone else doing?”

  He looked grave. “Some are selling up. All too hard. Most think these touchy-feely people won’t gain traction and as we already have merino here, are sticking with that. But there’s been a lot of unrest. Bad blood.”

  “Any upgrading the level of their sheep?”

  “No, that’s sounds like a Jeremy gamble. Folk around here are more conservative, like to stay with the status quo.”

  Which, generally, didn’t make much money.

  “What about their uncle, John?” she asked suddenly. Her understanding was that he had the farm next door. It might be something else to consider in the equation.

  “John isn’t well,” said Martin. “His son is pretty useless, which breaks his heart, but…” He shrugged his shoulders. “This isn’t the life for everyone. My son did journalism, aiming for a big city paper. I wouldn’t expect him to be a lawyer or to live here.”

  That she could certainly understand, though she had to admit, the Sandford residence was more than just comfortable. It was a quite different world to the one she was used to. Thinking of the previous night she blushed, thinking there were certain things about the difference that she could definitely get used to.

  Mike was waiting for her when they finished and returned. He looked grim and after a few monosyllabic answers in the car on the way back, Samantha gave up.

  * * * *

  Mike was feeling so conflicted he wasn’t sure what to feel. Monica had—inadvertently—helped his cause. This would clinch it for him. Samantha had to vote with him. But on top of that, seeing her and Monica together, something else had become clearer. He knew he had never loved Monica, had known that for some time. She had seen dollar signs attached to him and used everything she could to push his testosterone to the limits. By the time his head had cleared and he had thought about it, she was pregnant.

  Now his head
wasn’t feeling too much better, but he knew what he liked about Samantha was her curious mix of innocence and bolshiness. He was sure what you saw was what you got at the end of the day, and after Monica, that was nothing short of sheer relief. The problem was Jeremy. If he declared his interest—serious interest—in Samantha, then Jeremy would be the one running off to the lawyers crying foul play.

  * * * *

  Jeremy was sitting in his study working when Samantha poked her head around the door.

  “Can we meet again before dinner?”

  Jeremy’s mood was little better than it had been since he’d received last night’s email, but until he worked out what it meant and what to do about it, he supposed he needed to keep her on side. Besides, even if she was a two-timing, conniving bitch, he was still attracted to her. Perhaps even more so. He rather liked the idea of her being totally at his mercy. Maybe he could get the truth out of her then.

  “Of course. A business meeting, or can we have cocktails?”

  He could have sworn she blushed. Was it possible to be conniving and innocent all at once? This woman really had him confused.

  “As I think we are recapping a stalemate, a cocktail would be acceptable. At five?”

  Jeremy smiled. After she left he went back to his computer, found the phone number for the local realtor, and rang it. When the pretty, albeit vacant Kylie, whom he had known since she was a baby answered, he was able to get some more information that added to the picture. Okay, he was fairly sure now what Ms. Ballbreaker was up to, and how he could use the information to get her to agree to his terms. His mood picked up considerably.

  Chapter Nine

  “So I think we need to give Mike until the end of the week,” said Samantha, “to consult with Stan, the contract expert in Melbourne. During which time I will check Jeremy’s figures. I’ll need the weekend to go through whatever Stan and Mike come up with, so next joint meeting Monday, 9 a.m. Agreed?”

  They were sipping margaritas on the terrace.

  “Fine by me,” said Mike. Since returning from the lawyer he had been very quiet. All Samantha had been able to get out of him was that it was in his best interest to keep Monica happy if he wanted to keep seeing Tom. Full custody was looking unlikely and the child himself wouldn’t be allowed to choose for a good six more years, maybe longer.

  “Can I ask where you intend to be for the rest of the week then?”

  Samantha hadn’t really thought about it. “I can do the research online and by phone. So I can do it here or if you’d prefer I can go back to Melbourne?”

  “I’m sure I can speak for my brother on this one thing. We insist you stay.”

  Mike looked up at her and smiled, a straightforward agreement to a statement that Samantha suspected was not as straightforward as it sounded. At least not from Jeremy’s point of view. Still, it looked like she had a reprieve from either of them bulldozing her with their plans. She wanted to do a bit of her own research, too, about whether the Italians were likely to go with PETA and how other Australian farmers were dealing with the issue. Sheep and wool was big business. Maybe the government might subsidise vet care of the mulesing procedure?

  They grilled local fish and salad was served to them outdoors, mosquito coils and flares keeping the insects at bay as they enjoyed the setting sun and chilled Mornington Peninsula Pinot Gris. As they finished off their main courses and she declined dessert, Jeremy went inside to pour them all a cognac. Left alone with Mike, Samantha sensed his discomfort. Finally he cleared his throat, keeping an eye more on the door for a sign of Jeremy’s return rather than her.

  “Sam, about last night,” he began.

  Samantha took pity on him and put her hand over his. “I had lots of fun.”

  “Did you?” Mike looked relieved as he looked at her. “So did I. But I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression. I mean, I don’t usually—”

  “Don’t usually what?” asked Jeremy. “Interrupting something, am I?” He put a glass of golden liquid in front of them, expression unreadable. He wouldn’t have been a good man to play poker against.

  “I was actually saying how much I enjoyed last night,” said Mike, “and should Samantha wish for an encore performance I was certain we’d both be up for it.”

  Samantha was pretty sure he had intended on saying something else as well, but it seemed this was a genuine offer. She sipped her cognac in silence, welcoming the burning sensation down the back of her throat. Was she up for another round? As long as they were both there, she couldn’t see why not. And her body told her all the reasons why yes would be a good answer.

  “Did you have anything…special…in mind?” There was no doubt Jeremy was laying down the gauntlet. Samantha took another gulp of liquor. Her imagination prior to coming to High Camp hadn’t extended as far as having one man as hot as either of these two guys interested in her, let alone two of them fighting to impress her. She silently thanked their dead father and her own father and his golf mates. Tanya was just so not ever going to believe this. From never having tried anything other than vanilla sex, at this rate she’d be running one of Jeremy’s BDSM clubs. A shiver went through her at the thought.

  “Actually yes,” she heard Mike say. Yes what? Had she missed something?

  “Do please tell.” Jeremy looked amused. At least he didn’t seem as furious with her as he had been.

  “Sam is a city girl,” Mike continued. “So I thought we should give her a farm experience.”

  Samantha gulped. BDSM didn’t include animals did it? Wasn’t Mike the animal rights person? She was about to scream ballbreaker when she saw Jeremy looking at her. He burst out laughing. “Brother dear, I think you had better do some rapid explanation.”

  Mike look confused. “Doesn’t every girl want to roll around in the hay at least once?”

  Samantha breathed a little easier. “Okay, cowboy,” she said, laughing. “I’m game.”

  They were all wearing Akubras and cowboy boots and carrying a decent swig of Jeremy’s cognac as they headed out along the drive to the sheds. Samantha had changed into a long white shirt with nothing else other than her panties, Mike was in jeans and bare chested, and Jeremy, still determined it play it cool, was in a white shirt only buttoned at the bottom, and his signature loose black trousers.

  The shed, or rather barn, Samantha supposed, was empty apart from stalls in which halters and hay bins hung. In the corner was a pitchfork over hay that had been cleaned out of the stalls. Samantha hoped Mike wasn’t aiming on tossing her in there. There was slightly unpleasant odour emanating from it.

  “Up the ladder,” said Mike grinning. “You first and I intend to be right behind to enjoy the view.”

  Samantha took in the wooden ladder to the loft sceptically. She supposed it was safe enough. She handed Mike her drink and tried to ascend as decorously as possible. As they were grinning like Cheshire cats she rather supposed she failed. Once at the top she leant down toward Mike who had already come up two steps, still juggling the cognac, and relieved him of the glasses. Getting her bearings, she supposed that had she ever had a barn fantasy, this would have done the trick. Plenty of hay both in and out of bales.

  Mike, having reached the top, grabbed her around the waist. With a glass in both hands she wasn’t in much of a position to stop him. He kissed her long and hard, hands on her ass. She melted. Why on earth had she thought goofy cowboys weren’t her thing? This one was divine, and better still, he seemed to be into her in a nice straightforward way she didn’t have to second-guess.

  She could feel the glasses being eased out of her hands and presumed Jeremy had joined them. Suddenly he was behind her, nibbling her ears as Mike’s mouth went to her nipples.

  “Do you fancy having us both at once?” Jeremy whispered into her ears. Samantha took a breath. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

  “Not sure I can cope…Master,” she said.

  “We’ll have to see then,” said Jeremy. “Don’t forget you
can always use your safe word.”

  Samantha nodded, though the word “safe” and being around these two men seemed rather at odds. Jeremy was just out and out dangerous, at least from the point of view of his intentions, which she was sure she would never be able to fully trust, and Mike because she was in danger of losing her heart to him. Then there was the minor fact of having both of them on offer, unleashing a part of her that she hadn’t even known existed. It left her a little shaky, thinking how little she knew herself. But she sure as hell wanted to push further to find out just what she was capable of. These men were at least offering her that option. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that beyond the end of this month there would be anything more. She vowed to keep it light. Surely if she kept telling herself that this was just fun, nothing more, then she couldn’t get too hurt—could she?

  Mike grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Jeremy, dragging her down on top of him in the hay, hands up and under her shirt and over her breasts. He groaned in pleasure and she could feel him stiffening beneath her. At her side she could feel Jeremy, his hand over her butt, now fully exposed with her shirt up around her waist.

  She was barely aware of where she was, she was so overcome with the array of physical sensations flooding her. As Mike’s mouth fused with hers, tongues meeting, she was aware of the hardness of him, a man of the land, muscle tense and taut against her skin and under her hands that were supporting herself against his broad shoulders. At one level she could imagine herself just there with him and pretend they were in the relationship she dreamed of.

  But then she was aware of Jeremy. It wasn’t as if he was likely to let her forget him. He was a man used to dominating. And winning. Right now she felt his hand massaging her butt cheeks, his thumbs working their way closer and closer to her crack. She thought of his whispered question earlier and her stomach flipped. Okay, she’d never trust Jeremy fully, but there was definitely something positive about sex with a man that put you on the edge. For a split second she pictured herself living happily ever after with both of them. Perfection.