Sinclair, Sabrina - Her Texas Cowboy Brothers [Sexual Meltdown 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Sabrina Sinclair

  Rain or shine, the same balding man in the corner would be in for his ritual humiliation. Always the same kicks for him. He liked two or three girls to walk over his naked body with stiletto heels on. The poor bastard’s balls must be as sore as hell.

  Zane knew that this guy worked as a financial director for a large bank in Dallas. He felt sure that Mr. Bank Director had no idea that he knew and would be mortified were he to find out.

  He took another slug of bourbon and laughed inwardly. Jesus, this guy would be so easy to take to the cleaners, a few covert photos of him could easily be sent directly to his place of work. The guy was taking a chance by even coming here. He figured that when a person had certain desires, then they would take chances no matter what.

  Well, he had nothing to fear at Lucifer’s. Everyone was rigorously vetted before being allowed into the club, and photography was strictly prohibited.

  In a dimly lit alcove, he noticed something new. A woman stood alone. Her slim, elegant body appeared slightly in silhouette from the lamp behind her head. His curiosity keened. He stared intently at her. This girl was no usual client. In fact, he’d bet a dollar to a dime that this chick had never been through the doors of Lucifer’s Lair before. He guessed that she was about twenty-four or twenty-five, about five foot seven and one hundred and twenty pounds. Perfect skin covered high cheekbones, large dark brown eyes just added to her sexual appeal.

  When she flipped open her cell phone, the light from the screen shone onto her face, and he saw her undoubted feminine beauty fully for the first time. She shook her head, and dark, waist-length hair swirled around her. To finish off the delectable package, a black leather waistcoat barely concealed her ample breasts, and a skimpy leather skirt in the same color did nothing to hide her long, elegant, tanned legs.

  Zane felt his cock harden in his jeans for the second time that evening. Fuck, you look good, woman.

  He moved a little closer, wanting a better look, and then it hit him. Oh, fuck, did it hit him all right. That scent, her scent, so very rare, but yet totally unmistakable. It was the scent he had only experienced once before, on a very busy street in New York, some five years ago. The elusive scent had registered in his mind and then disappeared amongst a thousand souls on Fifth Avenue. He had searched like a deluded nut job trying to find the source of the aroma once again, but it was all to no avail.

  That seductive, irresistible scent was back. It was in his club, and he could see who owned it.

  Zane had found himself a Sybar woman.

  Chapter Two

  Sabine Vincenzi had a high opinion of herself. Born to wealthy parents of European descent, her father Giacomo Vincenzi was a prominent and well-respected Italian banker. Her German mother, Anke Hirsch, was a famous supermodel from the eighties who had subsequently become a wealthy property developer in her own right. Sabine had wanted for nothing growing up.

  She had recently heard unsubstantiated rumors of Sybar males working and living in the seedy part of town, and at the age of twenty-four, she found herself sipping a large margarita here at the fetish club known as Lucifer’s.

  Approximately one in every ten thousand males in the United States was a Sybar, and yet they still outnumbered the females of the species a thousand times over.

  As a Sybar woman, she was so rare as to be almost statistically extinct. She would be a prize catch for any Sybar male, and boy, did she know it.

  Over the last eighteen months, she had come into contact with three Sybar males. Although all had proved far more satisfying than even the best regular guys around, none of them had reached her exacting standards. So, she had taken what she needed and moved on.

  Acutely aware of the guy at the bar, she briefly closed her eyes. She could sense him, smell him…oh, that male Sybar aroma. Smiling to herself, she looked directly at him. Things were looking up, this guy was hot.

  Standing about six-three, he came with shoulder-length blond hair and the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen. He wore hand-carved cowboy boots, tight jeans, and a black T-shirt that did nothing to disguise the two hundred pounds of rippling muscle and man meat beneath.

  She guessed him to be about thirty-five or thirty-six. She was interested, and she knew he was, too.

  She watched him push away from the bar and stride purposefully toward her. He extended an outstretched hand.

  “I’m Zane Deveraux, the owner of Lucifer’s.” His eyes stared at her with a blue intensity that she found hard to resist.

  Ignoring his hand, she motioned for him to sit at the barstool next to hers. She smiled. “Is that meant to impress me, Mr. Deveraux?” Her reply was flippant and offhand. Turning her attention to her cell phone, she began keying in a number.

  He reached across and pulled the cell phone from her grasp and then snapped it shut. Placing it on the bar, he pointed to the sign behind her head.

  “We operate a strictly no photography policy here at Lucifer’s, lady, and that includes cell phones, too.” He paused for a moment, an amused expression on his face. “Unless, of course, I allow it.”

  “And do you allow it, Mr. Deveraux?”

  She flipped open the cell phone once more, her attitude defiant, daring him to repeat his actions.

  “Your lipstick.”

  “What about my lipstick?” she asked, slightly surprised as he stared at her mouth.

  “It makes your lips look full. I find that real sexy, lady.”

  Snapping the cell phone shut, she placed it back on the bar, her eyes holding his gaze as she did so. “We seem to have got off on the wrong foot, Mr. Deveraux. My name is Sabine Vincenzi. What do you really want?”

  “I think you know. We both know.”

  “Well, Mr. Deveraux.” She flipped open her cell phone once more, taunting him with her actions. “Why don’t you spell it out for me? Just so there can be no ambiguity.”

  “I need a Sybar woman.”

  Sabine tossed her head back and laughed loudly. She already knew the answer. “Do you now, Mr. Deveraux? You think that you can just walk over here and claim me as your own property?”

  “We need each other, lady. It’s our destiny—”

  “Mr. Deveraux—”

  “Zane. My friends call me Zane.”

  “Mr. Deveraux.” Insisting on using his surname, she smiled patiently, her long jet-black hair flowing around her as she did so. “Observation does not seem to be your strong point because if it were, you would be aware that I’m one hell of a catch and can have my pick of Sybar men.” She looked him up and down in a slightly dismissive manner. “What makes you think I’d choose you, cowboy?”

  “You need me.”

  She stared back at him, her gaze defiant and unafraid. “Mr. Deveraux, let me explain it to you in simple terms so that even you can understand.” She pointed a well-manicured finger at him.

  “Firstly, your powers of illusion will have a very limited effect on me. You may think you just have to conjure up some fancy house or car, and I’ll drop at your feet. Believe me, Mr. Deveraux, that’s not going to happen. I’m a successful businesswoman with considerable capital. I do not need a Sybar male to produce the illusion of a Porsche or a Ferrari, or even a penthouse or large mansion. I already own such things. And secondly,” she paused, pressing a finger directly into his chest, “I am an extremely strong-willed Sybar lady, so your male Sybar mind-melding abilities will only be able to reveal so much about the fantasies I may or may not have.”

  He listened politely before answering. “Have you finished, lady? Sometimes those that speak the most have the least to say. So now shut the fuck up, and listen to me.” He pulled the cell phone from her hand and snapped it shut for a second time. “You can have this back when you leave.” He then placed it in his pocket.

  “It’s time you got off your high horse, lady, and quit looking down your nose at me. Sure, you’re a Sybar woman and one hell of a looker, but you’re no better than me. The reason you’re here at Lucifer’s is because you�
�re pissed off with what you’ve found elsewhere.” He took a deep breath, his gaze holding her captive.

  “Regular guys have been a real disappointment to you, as have the few neutered Sybar guys you’ve laid. You’re here because you want something better, and that’s me, lady.” He squeezed her cheeks together with a large, roughened hand. “And that’s not guesswork, either, reading your thoughts is not that difficult. So you can stop flattering yourself on that score, too.”

  In anger, she pulled his hand from her face. “You have a high opinion of yourself, Mr. Deveraux—”

  “I told you once before, lady, my name is Zane.”

  “I think we’re all done here, Mr. Deveraux. I must be going.” She stood up, ready to leave.

  “Okay, that’s your choice, but if you want a Sybar guy who can fuck you so hard you can’t stop coming, then I’m your man. It would make a real nice change from these limp dicks you’ve been surrounding yourself with.” Sabine couldn’t help but feel excited by him. No man had ever taken control of her before, and she liked it. He’d also spoken the truth about the Sybar men she’d dated. They had all left her cold and unfulfilled.

  He pulled a Lucifer’s business card from his jeans pocket and scribbled an address on the back. He pressed it into her hand. “This is where my brothers and I live. Be there at three tomorrow.” His tone of voice made it sound more like a demand than a request. “And don’t bring your attitude with you, lady.”

  * * * *

  Kaden roused from his sleep as he heard a vehicle screech to a halt outside the ranch house. He glanced at his bedside clock, goddamn, and he had only just got to sleep, too. The kitchen door banged shut, and he knew exactly who it would be.

  As sure as eggs were eggs, Zane’s deep throaty voice called from the bottom of the stairs, “Hunter, Kaden, get your sorry cowboy asses down here. I’ve something to tell you.”

  Kaden buried his head under the pillow. It was three in the morning. Didn’t the fuck have a heart? He’d been in the saddle for fourteen hours. Zane might not need sleep, but he sure did.

  Zane called up the stairs for a second time, “I’m not gonna ask you guys again.”

  Kaden groaned. He’d never leave them alone. “Yeah, yeah, we hear you,” he answered back, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. “Give us two minutes.”

  Zane was filling the coffeepot when Kaden finally came down. He wiped the sleep from his eyes. Zane looked fresh and ready for anything, and his resentment grew. “Me and Hunter have had a long day in the saddle. Chasing and branding a thousand head of beef.” Feeling annoyed by the early intrusion, he poked a finger into Zane’s chest. “What’s so fucking important that you have to wake us up at this godforsaken hour? This had better be good,” he added with a warning.

  Hunter joined them in the kitchen, looking as pissed off as he felt. “Yeah, some of us have got a real job and need some fucking shut-eye. Unlike you, who just spends his time trying to sniff out pussy at Lucifer’s.” He looked ready to burst. “And you can wipe that smile off your face, Zane, before I rip your fucking head off.”

  Even Kaden wouldn’t cross Hunter. His brother sure had a temper when he was deprived of sleep.

  Zane didn’t seem to worry about Hunter’s outburst. “Oh, I’m smiling, boys, because I have some good news. I’ve found us some Sybar pussy.”

  “You shittin’ us?” Kaden looked at his brother more closely. He might be the eldest, but he was unconvinced. He knew finding a Sybar woman was harder than finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. He and Hunter had been up since five the previous morning, and they were both going to be more than a little annoyed if Zane had been drinking too much bourbon again.

  “Nope, she’ll be here at three tomorrow. You guys should have gotten most of your work done by then. Just enough time for your monthly bath before she arrives.”

  Ignoring his flippant remark, Kaden slapped his brother on the back. “Goddamn, Zane. I gotta hand it to you, it’s not easy finding a real live Sybar chick.” Suddenly, he stood back and became more serious. He grabbed his brother by his jacket collar. “If you’re lying about this, Zane, me, and Hunter will bust your head wide open like a ripe watermelon.”

  Hunter looked excited as anticipation of sex with a Sybar woman got the better of him. “What does she look like, Zane?”

  “Fuckable.”

  “And? Go on.”

  “About five-seven. Long dark hair and great tits. Far too good looking for an ugly pair of cunts like you and Kaden.” He laughed. “Now fuck off back to bed. I expect you’ll both be jerking off before you go to sleep.”

  As Kaden walked back up the stairs, his thoughts turned to his brothers. Like him, they would often feel there was something missing in their lives. Now in his thirties, he had recently come to the conclusion that the rarest of creatures, a Sybar woman, was beyond what they could realistically achieve.

  He had naturally assumed they would have to be content with just regular women, who could never fully satisfy their sexual desires.

  If Zane was telling the truth, then this was the answer to their prayers.

  His hand gripped the banister more tightly. Of course, if Zane, through some perverse practical joke, were lying, then he’d separate his head from his body.

  * * * *

  Sabine made herself comfortable behind the wheel of her blood-red Ferrari. She checked her makeup in the rearview mirror before turning the ignition key and gunning the twelve-cylinder Italian super car into life. She smiled, delighting in the sonorous sound it made as she blipped the throttle.

  Deciding to meet Zane Deveraux again, this time at his home, had not proved difficult. He was right. She was looking for something better, more exciting, and adventurous, and he seemed to fit the bill.

  She had no doubt there was something of the Neanderthal knuckle dragger about Zane Deveraux, but this only added to his appeal. She’d had more than enough of the emasculated, let-me-feel-your-pain type of guys to last her a lifetime. Yes, this annoying asshole could well be her kind of guy.

  He’d stood up to her at Lucifer’s, and she’d been more than a little surprised at how easily he’d taken control of her. The truth be known, it turned her on. When she had returned home that night, she’d had an irresistible desire to pleasure herself with her vibrator. The thought of Zane’s powerful, masculine body deep within her soaking wet pussy had really excited her. This was her final mental image as she’d finally surrendered to a crushing climax.

  Experience told her that his Sybar mind-melding abilities were far stronger than most Sybar males, and he’d probably been able to see exactly what she had been doing to herself in real-time clarity. This both embarrassed and aroused her even more.

  She felt her cunny becoming wet once again as her mind drifted to the tall, two-hundred pound blond god called Zane Deveraux. Yep, all the other Sybar guys she had dated recently had virtually fallen at her feet. So fucking grateful were they to finally find a Sybar woman, but not Zane.

  However, she wouldn’t be a pushover for him. He would soon learn she was extremely strong-willed and knew her own mind. As a Sybar woman she’d become used to getting her own way for a long time now. This cowboy club owner may be far superior to the average Sybar guy, but she was confident she was a match for him. More than a match.

  She was aware from their meeting at Lucifer’s that this guy liked to see a lot of feminine flesh. Well, she wouldn’t disappointment him. Her skirt was even shorter than the one she’d worn last night, and her skimpy blouse put her tits on display for his perusal. Her breasts were pert and firm, so she decided to go braless. This made her feel sexy as hell. Smooth bare legs, strappy stilettos, and the skimpiest panties she owned completed the package.

  She checked her makeup in the driver’s mirror once more. You are one hot chick, and don’t you forget it. She smiled. To a Sybar male she would be a prize worth winning. Yes, she knew just how rare and precious she was.

  She guided the Ferrari
into the Dallas traffic and then gave the beast its head. The tires squealed. The traction control light blinked at her.

  Then of course there were his brothers. He’d used the plural, so she guessed there would be at least two of them. If they had just half of Zane’s looks and attitude, then she might just be willing to see what they had to offer her by way of sexual excitement. He hadn’t said if they were younger or older than him.

  In about twenty minutes, she’d find out.

  Chapter Three

  Aware her breathing had started to quicken, she turned the Ferrari down the dusty track that led to Zane Deveraux’s home. After about half a mile, a ranch house came into view.

  Her experience of Sybar men told her that Zane and his brothers had made no attempt to produce a visual illusion for her. The last Sybar guy she dated was so keen to make an impression he produced a Sybar illusion of the Palace of Versailles. It was an exact copy down to the smallest detail. She smiled, he was a nice guy, but he tried too hard, and he simply didn’t have the rugged sexual magnetism Zane Deveraux possessed.

  The ranch house was impressive. It had a Colonial style to it, with a large sweeping veranda and beautiful ornate pillars. She could clearly see this guy had done well for himself. However, she could buy and sell this cowboy club owner many times over, so she certainly wasn’t in awe of him.

  As they’d made no effort to produce any Sybar illusions whatsoever, she guessed Zane Deveraux and his brothers were a group of you-take-us-as-you-find-us guys.

  Anyway, she’d told him in no uncertain terms last night she was not a girl who would be impressed by the male Sybar illusion trick. So it looked as if he’d taken her at her word. Besides, her property portfolio extended to a penthouse flat in uptown Dallas and a five-bedroom, chic Adam-style house in Maine, along with an apartment in Switzerland with views over Lake Geneva. Pretty good going for a girl of just twenty-four. Having a wealthy father who’d opened doors for her in the white heat world of merchant banking had certainly helped.