TroubleToysTemptingCowboys

by Jennifer LaRose

  She squeezed the knife, checking Troy’s exact whereabouts from the corner of her eye. He stood within reach, the gun dangling at his side. It may cost her life, but if it spared Brock’s, it would be worth it.

  Her temples throbbed, and her heart beat so rapid and forcefully, it pulsed inside her ears.

  Tears bled from her eyes as she placed the knife to Brock’s throat. She tried reassuring him through her gaze, but he appeared panic-stricken.

  “Don’t do it,” he warned, his lips not moving. “He’ll shoot you.”

  Although Troy wanted her alive more than dead, it was a chance she had to take. Dear God, please forgive me. She pulled the knife away from Brock’s jugular and jumped to her feet. She raised it quickly and plunged the blade at Troy’s heart. He turned sideways, avoiding the blow.

  “You fucking bitch.”

  He raised the gun, pulled back the trigger and pointed it at her head.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting. The deafening blast of a gun tore through the air. She held her breath, anticipating the bullet, and pain, and blood, and her final breath. Pictures of her life flashed before her eyes like a slide show. The good. The bad. The children. Nan. Brock. Oh God, Brock. She’d left him exposed and vulnerable to Troy.

  Everything reverted to slow motion.

  Brock yelled, “No!”

  The blood-curdling growl pierced her ears. Her gaze raced to the bed. His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw protruding. The veins in his neck strained.

  She heard a thud. Something banged into her foot.

  She looked down to see her brother lying in a heap at her feet, holding his thigh. The gun lay at his side on the floor as he writhed in pain. A stream of blood poured through his fingers onto the carpet.

  Why wasn’t she dead? He’d aimed at point-blank range.

  “Ms. Stoler, come over here,” a man ordered. “Easy.”

  She glanced in the direction of the voice. Detective Gowen stood inside the doorway, gun drawn, aimed at Troy. Two police officers stood behind him on either side.

  Relief was immense, and her knees turned to rubber.

  “Ms. Stoler,” the detective repeated.

  Sirens screamed in the distance. Tiffany took a final look at her brother before she kicked the gun to the detective. As she backed her way toward the door, Troy started inching himself across the floor, pulling on the carpet, his bloody leg lagging behind. “You’re dead, Tiffany. Fucking dead.”

  Her back hit the wall.

  ”Tiff,” Brock said, drawing her attention to the bed. “Make your way to the detective.”

  Nodding, she joined Gowen at the door. “I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “Unfortunately, sometimes the trail of evidence misleads us. I must confess, I thought your message was a ploy. I brought backup.”

  “Is this over? Is this finally over?”

  “Yes,” he said, shoving the gun into his holster. “If I hadn’t been listening to the events unfold from the other room, you wouldn’t be so lucky.” He withdrew a set of cuffs from his back pocket and walked to her brother. He yanked Troy’s arms behind his back and fastened the handcuffs around his wrists.

  “What happens next?” she asked, gently rubbing the massive lump on her head.

  “I reckon someone should untie me,” Brock replied, lifting his head off the pillow. “My limbs are a bit numb.”

  Her mouth fell agape, and Detective Gowen grinned. “I’ll release you momentarily, Mr. Halston, after I take a few snapshots.” He stood. “Ms. Stoler, I’m going to place your brother under arrest and process this scene. Why don’t you wait in the other room for the medics?”

  * * * * *

  “So, you liked being tied up?” Tiffany teased. She kissed the gauze that surrounded Brock’s cracked noggin.

  He sat in the middle of her bed, legs crossed Indian-style, and she sat with her butt in the hollow spot, ankles locked at his tailbone.

  “Not saying it was enjoyable. I imagine I’d experience more pleasure tangling with a gator.”

  She giggled while repositioning herself on her knees, and then gently shoved him down on the bed. “If it’s done properly…” she said, placing his arms above his head, “it’s quite erotic.”

  “This is from personal experience?”

  “No, this is straight from my fantasies.”

  “Why do I suddenly feel like a guinea pig?”

  “Stay right here.” She crawled off the bed and sauntered to the closet, her robe catching around her ankles. Flipping through numerous suits and blouses, she finally found the hanger housing her entire scarf collection. She removed four satin, solid-colored ones then returned to the bed, laying them across the bedspread. She then sat on Brock’s groin, placing a knee on either side of his hips. His hard cock dug into her crotch. To inform him she was paying attention, she gave it a few quick strokes with her ass. Biting her bottom lip, she leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Do you trust me?” she whispered against his cheek.

  “The question is…” He grabbed her by the waist and flipped her onto her back, then rolled her to her tummy. He covered her with his body, chest to spine. “Do you trust me?”

  His weight pressed her into the mattress, but not to the extent she couldn’t breathe. Being captured and at his mercy stirred her belly and her pussy heated. “Yes,” she said, though a little reluctance hung in the air. Sometimes it was easier saying things than doing them, and this just happened to be one of those instances. Though she refused to wuss out just because he’d turned the tables.

  “Don’t move.”

  It was a disappointment when his weight released her, but he quickly righted the situation by removing her robe and tying her spread-eagle to the bedposts, bare ass in the air after he stuffed a pillow beneath her hips. Bound and submissive proved to be the most horrifyingly incredible situation, and she loved every minute of it so far.

  He rubbed her ass cheeks then gave her clit a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to check what kind of surprises you have in that case. Where might I find it?”

  If that hadn’t elicited a pussy gush, noting would. Excitement played havoc with her nerves and her flesh tingled everywhere imaginable. “Hall closet.”

  When he walked away, she tried remembering the specific contents in that case, but anticipation blocked her ability to remember anything. Her breaths were already quickening, her pussy drenched, and he’d barely touched her.

  She heard a soft buzzing sound that grew louder as he returned to the room. “This looks mighty interesting,” he said.

  She glanced over her shoulder. He carried the Twat Twister, the newest addition to her inventory that guaranteed intensifying a woman’s pleasure by seventy-five percent. The Twat was self-explanatory, but the Twister described the vibrator’s rotating head, which expanded the vaginal walls and caressed the sensitive tissues. A clitoral stimulator attached to the side moved up and down automatically. The intended purpose was to insert it and let it go to do all the work.

  He sat down and held it against her ass crack. The bzzz vibrated all the way to her spine. She buried her face, pressing her pubic bone into the pillow.

  He bit the back of her shoulder while removing his clothes. “Suppose I shove this in your pussy while I fuck your ass. Would you like that?”

  She tried to respond but a rush of breath quelled her words.

  “Hell, darlin’, you don’t have a choice, do you?”

  In the next second, he replaced the vibrator with cool oil that warmed on contact to her skin. He spread her butt cheeks wide, allowing it to flow over her anus and along her pussy. She rotated her hips to catch every drop. The sensation…shit, it was wickedly erotic. Slippery and warm, and holy fuck…he inserted a finger deep inside her ass. She bucked into it and moaned, the bedspread absorbing the sound. Over and over he repeated the motions, adding an additional finger, stretching her wide until she was relaxed and ready to accept him.

  Then he was on top of her, shoving
the vibrator inside her vagina. When fully inserted, he situated his cock to breach her anus. She held her breath. A climax moved within reach, and she cried into the mattress when he inserted the head.

  “Tiff, tell me you love me.”

  “I do.”

  He pushed forward an inch but gave her no more. “Tell me.”

  “I love you.”

  He completely embedded his dick then withdrew it until only his cock head remained. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  He rammed her, filling her ass full, then pulled back. “Again.”

  “I love you.”

  The next thrust started the onset of a climax, but he quickly withdrew. “Once more.”

  “I love you, Brock,” she wailed.

  He slammed forward, completely engulfing himself as her insides exploded in bliss. Her pussy walls clenched the vibrator. Her rectum squeezed his cock as wave after wave of pleasure shook her to the core, forcing him to come deep inside her.

  He collapsed on her for only a minute before he removed the vibrator and untied her from the bed. He sat up with his back resting against the headboard and tucked her under his arm. She loved snuggling beside him, listening to his heartbeat and smelling his scent.

  “Tiff, this might be short notice, but I reckon I’d like to spend the rest of my days with you.”

  She weaseled out of the embrace and sat up straight, gazing into his eyes. Her heart started thump-thumping.

  He removed a rubber ring from his thumb and took hold of her hand. “Would you mind marrying this cowboy?”

  She looked down as he placed the circular band on the tip of her ring finger and rolled it past her knuckle.

  She giggled. “Brock, you’re proposing to me with a penis ring?”

  “I reckon if it’s intended to prolong an erection, it can prolong a marriage. What do you say?”

  “Yes,” she squealed, planting kisses all over his face. “How about we break it in by putting it to use?”

  “Don’t push it, Tiff.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, cowboy, I reckon you don’t need it anyhow.”

  “You got that right, darlin’.” He pulled her across his lap. “Now get over here and give me some lovin’.”

  About the Author

  Jennifer LaRose resides in Ohio, where she was born and raised. She’s surrounded by loving family and friends whose charm and wit never cease to amaze her. They serve as the backbone, encouragement and inspiration to her writing career.

  Jennifer works full-time in the healthcare field, plays the non-stop domestic role and writes during every available moment in between. She is multi-published, writes in other genres and loves to receive mail from her readers.

  Jennifer welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at Comments@EllorasCave.com.

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

  www.ellorascave.com