RopeMeIn

by Cerise DeLand

  She snatched his robe from his fingers, then glowered at him. “I’m sold on the shower. And your dinner and wine, but I have a bigger problem.”

  “Yeah?” You’re telling me, baby. He had to let her lead him for a while, didn’t he? Just so she’d learn that he was an easy man to live with. In some things. “What’s that?”

  “My pickup truck is dead. The ditch gouged the undercarriage. And in the back are your packages. I’m afraid, Jed, they must be soaked through, surely ruined by now. I wanted to bring them to you and exchange them but—”

  “The storm did the rest of the work. I know.” He gave her hand a consoling squeeze. “It’s okay.”

  “Not really,” she said, sounding forlorn. “You took better care of mine than I did of yours.”

  “That’s okay.” If we three show you we can take good care of you, you’ll take care of us in ways you could never imagine. “They can be replaced.”

  “I’d like to compensate you for the damage.”

  “Money?” he named the obvious. But what he and his brothers wanted from her could not be bought. Anywhere. On any market. “We’d never accept it, Cara.”

  “But it’s only fair.”

  “You couldn’t predict you’d get caught in a storm.”

  “No, but—”

  “You want to make it up to us?” He’d lead her in the direction he and his brothers needed her to go. Had planned for her to go. Long before the packages got mixed and the rains came.

  “I do. Let me.”

  I will. “Go take that shower. Shampoo too. Get a clean comb and hairbrush from the linen closet and then come back to drink our wine and eat dinner with us.”

  “I am grateful. My pickup is a wreck. And I’m afraid I can’t go home until I get a tow truck out here.” She rolled her shoulders in discomfort as a streak of lightning lit up the room in brilliant flashes. “I hate asking favors, but if I could stay until the storm passes and I can call someone to come­­—”

  “Stay as long as you want, Cara. We have a guest suite back through the bathroom.” We’re ready for you. Have been since Sunday when Harry bought the soap scented with verbena. Wanted to start out with a slow seduction of dinner, dancing, movies, whatever makes your heart sing, but you coming to us makes it easier. “Plus Harry is a good mechanic. Once the storm passes, he’ll hitch up the tractor and haul your truck up the road into the maintenance barn. He’ll take a look.”

  “Thank you, Jed. This is wonderful. I hate Texas rainstorms.” She rubbed her upper arms.

  “Unpredictable. What with flooding and lightning, they can be nightmares.”

  “Tornadoes frighten the bejesus out of me. Think this could become one?”

  “No word of that.”

  “Weathermen have been known to be wrong.”

  “Amen to that. Ever been caught in a twister?”

  She nodded. “When I was fifteen, yes. Terrible. Our house was blown away. It’s why my family moved to Dallas. But maybe it won’t get that bad today.”

  “You’re safe here. This house is solid stone. Hasn’t moved an inch in forty years.”

  “Thanks,” she said, looking relieved. “One thing though. I do need to call my Aunt Bree and tell her where I am. She’ll worry, I know, but my cell phone has no service in this mess. Do you­—”

  “Sorry.” He gave her a consoling smile. “Last time I checked, the landlines were out too.”

  Now she looked truly scared, her eyes darting around the brightly lit kitchen. “But your lights?”

  He zeroed in on her tight facial expression. “We have our own generator for the ranch. No worries.”

  “Oh good.” She visibly relaxed.

  “Go.” He pointed toward the bathroom he knew she would love. He beamed at her and at the set of circumstances that put her where she was meant to be long before the plans to bring her here. “You need to strip and bring me those clothes for the washer and dryer.”

  “You men cook, clean and do laundry?” She chuckled. “A woman’s dream.”

  “We do for ourselves. Always have since our parents passed. Now get in there so you can come be the center of attention at our table. We don’t often have a beautiful woman to dinner.”

  Chapter Two

  The bathroom, like the kitchen, had recently been updated. Cara stood in the center of the spacious room, noting the ivory and gold travertine stone tile on the walls and the subtle pink glow of recessed lighting in the ceiling. Beneath her feet, even in her clammy boots, she could feel the comfort of the radiant heat reaching up to her from the floor tiles. But her heart pounded at the sight of the huge circular tub with Jacuzzi jets that sat in the center of the floor two steps up on a dais. One person could almost swim in its expanse. A tinge of excitement zinged up her spine at the idea that the tub was meant for more than one.

  She tore her gaze to the far wall, which was, in its entirety, a glass-enclosed walk-in shower. Jets sprang from the tiles mounted at various heights and angles to spray a bather over every curve and plane. Like the tub, numerous people could fit into that space and wash together. The idea sent shivers of excitement from her skin deep inside to her pussy. What if the MacRaes’ offer to Skylar of a multiple had not been a whim, but one of their regular practices?

  What would it take to have one of these men offer that to me?

  I’d grab the opportunity.

  Right. And you need your head examined. How would you know what went where with three men in bed with you?

  Oh for the chance to learn!

  She snorted. Rueful at the remote possibility she’d get an invitation, she glanced at the white fluffy bath towels piled everywhere along the edge of the tub, on a huge white linen chaise longue and on the wall-length counter with four sinks. She lifted her nose to inhale the heady bouquet in the air. Picking up one of the creamy bars of soap, she blinked. They were scented with verbena and roses. Her favorite fragrances.

  How uncanny was that?

  She would not question it though. How could she when she felt as though she was in some fresh, luxurious heaven?

  Enjoy your good fortune.

  Okay, why not. She sat in the wide chaise longue that could certainly hold two and quickly tugged off her wet boots and socks. She stood, not wishing to wet down the beautiful upholstery on the chaise more than she had. Then she went after the rest of her clothes. Peeling off her jeans and shirt, she struggled with the tiny clasp of her French demi-bra, then slithered out of her silk panties. At once she caught the picture of herself in the full-length mirrors that lined the third and fourth walls of the bath. Her cheeks were flushed. Her nipples hard. Her mind running around in circles, seeing herself with Jed, naked, plastered to him here in this beautiful room. Charming Jed MacRae is to blame for that, of course. He could raise any girl’s color. The way he looked at her was nerve tingling. Like he is going to have me for supper instead of Harry’s stew. She felt a swelling in her poor neglected pussy.

  I could get used to a man running his eyes over me as if I were his prize.

  Stop that. That kind of affair is for novels. Not the real world.

  Seriously. What would I do with a man like that?

  Take him to bed.

  A man who was used to control? That didn’t work out so well the last time you found a man who demanded he lead in bed and every other aspect of your lives.

  There were reasons for that. Cara knew them as her own personal litany of woes. Jeff had deliberately covered his basic nature, misjudging her, perceiving her to be easily led.

  “Malleable,” he had said, laughing and announcing how he found the trait “useful”. That revelation he delivered on their first wedding anniversary. By then, Cara had already spent sleepless nights sorting out why she had ever thought she loved this petty, self-aggrandizing creature. Downing the last of her wine, she rose from her seat in the restaurant on the Rue de Faubourg and poured the water pitcher over him. As he cursed, water dripping indelicately from his nose, Cara took
a taxi to their apartment, packed and left him.

  The MacRae brothers were nothing like Jeffrey Montfort. Thank god. They were rough and ready men in chaps and boots, not corporate raiders in undertaker suits. The MacRaes were ranchers who wrestled earth and stone and water to raise cattle and horses. They were not manipulators of stocks and bonds or leveraged assets. They worked the land, not mythic mounds of cash. The MacRaes were the salt of the earth types who Cara remembered from her childhood for their grit and their humor. They were the kind of men she wanted to live among.

  So what if Jed and his brothers were known as jungle cats, bedding whomever they pleased? Her cousin Joel had told her that they were looking for the right women to marry. According to the townsfolk, the three MacRaes had shopped for mates all over the Hill Country, even north to Dallas. The upshot was they came home empty-handed, though they spread their fame as demanding and energetic lovers to all they favored with a roll in the hay. Nothing wrong with that. A lot right with it, in fact.

  What I wouldn’t give to try each of them out.

  She jumped, recalling a friend of hers in Paris who lived with two men and took them as lovers, all three of them together. The concept had shocked Cara, but titillated her too. Yet the reason she envied her friend most was that her lovers were tender with her, kind and mature about their arrangement. Jealous rages, declared her friend, never occurred.

  Cara imagined herself as her friend in bed with three men. She stared at her reflection, dreamt of Jed MacRae’s heavy-lidded jade eyes and saw what thoughts of him did to her body. Her pink nipples were now as hard as stone, aching with need. Her pussy was flooding. Her knees, wobbly. She brushed her fingers over her plump mound. She kept it freshly waxed and bare, just the way she liked it, making it easy for her to try on lingerie she considered buying for her new store. But her pussy was also bare so that she could easily pleasure herself. Watch herself delve inside, feel her own heat and bring down her own juice. She could get off on a fantasy. Had done it so often this past year since her divorce that she was an expert at what she wanted…no, craved to come quickly.

  Who needs a man?

  She shivered at the image of having Jed MacRae on his knees before her here, eating her demanding cunt. Licking her. Laving her. Making her swollen and red. Wanting him because he was a gentle lover, responding to him because he was careful and inspired to be ardent with her. She pulsed to that fantasy.

  She parted her thick labia and admired her scarlet hot channel in the sumptuous mirror. Then she found her clit and tapped it.

  She trembled with anticipated joy.

  What the hell. Giving in to the urge to make herself come, she twirled her fingertip over the top of her quickly turgid clit. She gasped, pinching her tight little button and moaning when she realized she still pictured Jed doing this, biting her bud, scraping his rough tongue over her nub and sucking on her fat, juicy labia.

  She walked forward to the mirror, tipped up her hips and inserted a finger in her channel. Oh god, she loved coming. For herself, by herself. She was never, ever disappointed, always so damn fucking pleased with her own care of herself. Jeff had never satisfied her.

  She went after her climax as if she were a devoted libertine then, stroking and petting her clit, driving her fingers as much as she could, up inside her pussy and loving the silken sounds of how much cream she could make for herself. In a minute, she was on the edge—filled, swollen, pounding and thrown over the precipice into momentary bliss.

  If it was too short, if it was too lonely, she didn’t dwell on that. She couldn’t afford it. She’d once given her heart to a man who used it and threw it away. She vowed she’d never give another man the chance to control her like that.

  No sir. She strode into the lavish shower. Instantly, automatically, four of the jets turned on. Just at the height of her nipples. Great fun! Three others were just at the height to hit her labia, which she promptly opened to let the water release any lagging desire from her pussy. She stood in the shower for god knew how long, refreshed and ready to enjoy her evening with three men who had rescued her and now would feed her. But as for sex?

  I don’t need a man to satisfy me. As for taking a MacRae? That might be more trouble than the sex would be worth.

  * * * * *

  Jed could hear Harry and Will stomping up the covered back porch, their boots dropping on the wooden floorboards as they removed them so as not to track mud and water inside. Harry opened the kitchen door and came in first, his straight black hair bound back at the nape in a string of Comanche rawhide. Will, broader, built like a heavyweight wrestler, was right behind.

  “Hey,” Harry greeted Jed, his pale blue eyes scanning the kitchen for Cara. “How we doing here?”

  “Good.” Jed nodded toward their new bathroom, then continued to set the table for dinner. “Getting showered and changed. Slow and easy does it.”

  “Does she have any ideas of what we had planned for her?” Will asked Jed, skeptical after years of looking for a woman to bed and wed that any one female could satisfy his hunger for lusty sex.

  Jed chuckled at his youngest sibling. “Not yet. Let her learn us slowly. We researched her well.”

  “Yeah. With a helper she might not thank if she ever finds out.” Will nodded.

  Jed agreed. “We’ll cross that bridge if we ever come to it.”

  Will smacked his lips. “She is even sweeter up close and personal. I’d hate to blow this to hell now that she’s here. Good thinking to keep her box and hope she’d deliver ours.”

  “She’s intrigued, for sure,” Harry confirmed. “But shy.”

  “It’s not like we have no experience courting women,” Will pointed out.

  Harry stared at him deadpan. “Ya think? Seems in the last few years all we found were the ones who’d slept around so much, they’d catch fire if they didn’t sweat.”

  Will took a glass from a cabinet and filled it with water. “Remember the one in Dallas who turned out to be a professional roller derby gal?” He took a long drink as the other two groaned. “Hell in high heels. Mean as a bobcat.”

  “Her IQ equaled her bra size,” Harry confirmed. “My personal fave was the conniving redhead in Waco who hustled us all the time to shoot pool before she let us take her to the private room and play with her. Lost two months’ wages to her.”

  Will choked on laughter. “Look at it this way. She inspired you to improve your game.”

  “Not judging my women by their hair color any longer, am I? No. ’Nuf said.”

  Will scowled. “I want a woman who’s real. No three-dollar wigs or false teeth.”

  Harry grimaced. “None were that bad.”

  “No, but you get me.”

  Jed crossed his arms. “So yeah, we went hunting in the wrong places and came home sorry. We wised up. Looked in our own backyard. Checked first for character.”

  “We’ve still got work to do. Cara’s been abused,” Will said with disgust. “Her asshole husband used his mouth on her and that’s a heavy load to take from her.”

  “Underneath, she’s right as rain,” Jed declared. “Needs a little gentling, that’s all.”

  “So we’ll give her a hand up,” Will said.

  “Hmm.” Harry widened his eyes. “Maybe more than a hand.”

  “She’s got some spunk and sass to her all right,” Jed acknowledged. “And she might not be a natural submissive.”

  “Fine by me,” Will retorted. “But with her interest in lingerie and the way she lights up around us, I’d say she’s up for sex with boys and toys. She’s got an eye for us. So maybe we can help her out of her funk after Mister Ball and Chain. Not knowing anything finer existed, she let her instinct lead her to get hitched to the wrong kind of fencepost.”

  Harry frowned at the hallway toward the bath. “Hope to god we can change that.”

  Jed smiled. “If you have patience with her, Harry, and Will, if you can show her some of that Jolly Green Giant brawn, we’ll light her fir
e.”

  Harry elbowed his brother. “Right. Let’s get cleaned up so we can show her what gentlemen can do for her. And you,” he tsked at Jed, “stop being housemother here. Go get yourself all bright and sparkly. I want to sit down and get to know her in the best circumstances.”

  “I’ll go. But you two need to have some time with her alone. I’ve already made my impression. Laid the groundwork for us. But I told you, I’ll not make first claim on her just because I’m the oldest. Or the first to have some regular time with her.”

  Will slicked back his unruly black curls and laughed for the first time in months. “If we get this right, we’ll each get a chance to show her how good we can be.”

  Harry grinned. “Then we’ll go for the gold.”

  Jed agreed. “Get a move on. She’s here for the duration of the storm. If it stops any time soon, we’ve lost the best chance to show her we’re human.”

  “And if it lasts all night?” Harry waggled his slashing black brows in anticipation. “We might have a strong chance to entertain her for more than supper.”

  “Hope, as Ma used to say, springs eternal,” Jed told him. “Go!”

  The two men cast a glance in the direction of their new bathroom, then turned for their respective bedrooms. Each new room had an en suite bath, smaller but similar to the big one they had designed to share with one perfect woman.

  They had made an agreement when they hatched this plan to find a lover who pleased them, physically and emotionally. No one brother would be any more important than the others. If this was to work, the woman they courted to become their lover had to see each man for himself, each one equal to the others, each one unique and valuable. Each man a brother who loved his other two, and needed one terrific woman to make them all happy together.

  Sure, it had taken them nearly a year to plan the remodeling, another to execute it. Then, though they had discovered a few candidates to fill their particular role of sub and lover, they had not found any one woman they agreed to for all of them. Only when they learned about Cara’s return and remembered her as a kid who dogged their heels around town did they decide that she was a good possibility. When they learned more about her—and her marital disaster—they knew she was a prize worth cultivating.