High-Stakes Loving [King's Bluff, Wyoming 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Fiona Archer

  Jackson settled himself back in his chair and popped open his can of soda. “So I’m guessing I missed all the earlier gossip on the election front. Someone give me an update.”

  Flynn jumped in. “After ‘Wagner the Wanker’ got himself nominated, he informed Reagan he plans to close the library. She told him to bugger off and got herself nominated as his competition.” He winked at Reagan. “The local book club is going to wear T-shirts advocating spanking and there may be plans afoot to outlaw Vegemite. The first initiative I fully support.” He turned his grin on his wife before sending a scowl, only half mocking, over to Reagan. “The second, I’ll fight until my dying breath.”

  “I love the way you picked up all the salient facts, buddy.” Mike’s dry tone matched the quirk of his lips.

  “Are you ready for this, honey?” Jackson stared at her from across the table, concern etched in the lines on his forehead. “Wagner’s not the most subtle of men. He’ll go after you, bring up things that could hurt you. Things that nobody with a lick of sense would judge you for, but he’ll find a way of making it sound all about you and your character.”

  Her mom. And he was trying so hard to be kind. She wanted to reach over and hug her longtime friend.

  Now so close to her body, Quinn had a stillness about him, as if he’d gone on alert. Did he and Mike know of her family history? Likely. If not, she might as well put it all out in the open.

  “I’m assuming everyone here knows what I’m about to say. I mean, it’s not a secret around town and—”

  “Sugar, we know.” Quinn gave her a squeeze. “Chloe explained things to us the other night. We’d heard months ago that it was just you and your dad for many years.” His gaze held no judgment or pity.

  “Mom was a flirt. I remember that clearly.” Julie had laughed and danced at the town shindigs, and not just with her husband. “But whatever made her leave, I have no idea.”

  “You think some folks will get behind Wagner on this?” Chloe asked.

  “There’s always been a small group that never liked my mom, mostly wives of the men who flirted with her. I wouldn’t put anything past them or their daughters.”

  Flynn snorted. “We could always kidnap them and force-feed them Vegemite.”

  Chloe gave Flynn a playful slap on the chest. He captured her hand and kissed the tops of her knuckles.

  Reagan studied her friend and felt her face soften. Chloe had come so far. From a quiet, ever-so-careful woman to one who wasn’t afraid to grasp her happiness in both hands. What was that like, to be that brave, that free?

  Quinn’s fingertip began tracing circles on the outside of her thigh, burning an invisible brand on her jeans with each lazy turn. Her pulse danced its own Texas two-step at his touch. The sensitive points of her nipples pressed against her bra. Thank God for her shirt covering her tank top. The last thing she needed was nipple beacons.

  In the background, Chloe’s light voice and Purdy’s laughter echoed, but all she could focus on was dragging enough air into her lungs.

  “So we are holding another campaign meeting tomorrow afternoon at Reagan’s house. Jackson, your mom will be there, along with plenty of others.” Chloe flicked a wave of her chestnut-colored hair out of her eyes.

  “So, all the smart women in town will be gathering at Reagan’s. Maybe you need a few men there to voice an opinion or two, keep the perspective more even.” Mike slung a glance at Reagan.

  “Definitely.” Noah chuckled into his beer.

  “I think the smart women have all the perspective they need.” Reagan tried to push Quinn’s arm off her lap.

  The giant Texan smothered her hands with his, holding them in a loose grip.

  “Sometimes a lady doesn’t recognize a good thing until it’s proven to her beyond all doubt. Once she sees there’s nothing to be afraid of, she’ll embrace that new opportunity.” The laugh crinkles around Mike’s eyes didn’t diminish the threat hidden in his words, at least to Reagan.

  “Proven? That sounds more like ‘Man knows best, woman must adapt’ to me.”

  Quinn chuckled at her soft huff. “Your combative spirit’s gonna kick Wagner on his ass.” Approval rang clear in his tone. “As a male growing up in a household of four older sisters and one younger, I’ve learned to adapt my combat skills against feminine pique. And Mike’s like a second son to my folks. My sisters have sharpened their nails on his tough hide. He’s battle scarred and proud.”

  Mike snorted. “Especially Carly. She’s one mean baby sister.”

  “Hell, she’s twenty and dating a professional wrestler called Johnny the Terminator from San Antonio. Stupid-ass name. Stubborn girl’s gonna give her daddy a heart attack. Lucky for Lycra Boy, he was touring in Canada during our visit. But he has to come home eventually.” Quinn’s teeth shone in the sunlight, reminding Reagan of a great white shark. “When he does, Johnny-boy and I are gonna have a long chat.”

  “You mean both of us.” Mike folded his arms across his chest.

  “Little sister’s dating a pro-wrestler? I’d be having a chat, too.” Jackson nodded with approval. His sharp gaze dropped to Quinn’s hands holding her own. Did she just imagine the twitch of his lips?

  She cast him a pleading look.

  Jackson studied Mike and then Quinn. Finally, as if he’d come to a decision, he gave her a soft smile.

  Pushing me out of the nest, huh?

  “Carly’s always been stubborn, determined to strike out for herself. Despite the fact she was a surprise baby and spoiled rotten. And after what happen—” Quinn seemed to catch himself. His mouth pressed in a hard line. “I’m not taking any chances.”

  So this was what it was like to have older brothers, men protecting you whether you wanted their interference or not.

  Reagan relaxed her spine, surprised at the warm, tingly feeling the men’s words conjured. Where was her annoyance at such high-handed behavior? Shouldn’t she be offended on Carly’s behalf?

  Quinn stroked his thumb in a lazy swipe over the back of her hand. The quiet strength of his grip morphed into something deeper. A sense of security enveloped her, flowing from Quinn and reinforced by the closeness of Mike’s body as he laid his hand on one of her knees.

  The urge to lean against Quinn, to soak up his strength, took her breath away. She felt cared for, protected.

  For a tiny second, a flare of panic burned in her belly. Where had this turnaround come from? One moment she was outwardly stating the strength of her own mind and the next—but, hang on. Wasn’t that exactly what she was doing? Finally being honest with herself and recognizing the…well…rightness of her body’s rip-their-clothes-off yearn for these men?

  Hadn’t it been that way from the start? The first moment she snapped eyes on Quinn at the library back in November, her body had yelled “yippee” even as her mind screamed “danger.”

  What was scarier—pretending to be a strong woman or living up to promises of that strength by going after what she wanted? Did she dare?

  Chloe had dared. And she had ended up with two men who loved her like she was the key to their very existence.

  She mashed her lower lip with her teeth. Consequences. That’s what she needed to focus on.

  Okay, start with the obvious. She was running for elected office in King’s Bluff. Sure, but this wasn’t a prudish town. Heck, they had their own erotic romance book club. Hmm, strike that one down. Next point. Her platform was trust, honesty—the girl who’d grown up in this town. But didn’t that mean living just as any other citizen? And King’s Bluff would accommodate a ménage relationship without anyone raising an eyebrow.

  Relationship? Whoa!

  She froze mid-breath, trapping air until her lungs burned.

  Shit. What was she thinking here? Sex? Commitment? Weekend dates with tie-me-up benefits? And did she even want the bossy tie-me-up stuff? Because the bossy was nonnegotiable with these guys. Hmmph. Who was she kidding? A bookcase full of captive fantasies kind of gave the game away
.

  “Reagan, take a breath.” Mike’s firm voice cut in.

  His hand rubbed the top of her thigh. Tiny shivers raced over her shoulders and down her spine. She blinked, glanced around.

  Quinn tracked her gaze. “They could see we needed some time and went inside to clean up and shoot the breeze.”

  Mike stood and turned his chair on a right angle. When he sat back down, he faced Reagan, his knees butting up against her own. “What’s racing through that head of yours, honey?”

  “I, ah, was just thinking about the campaign. So much to remember.” She focused on the table. No way could she meet Mike’s stare.

  Quinn’s nails scraped over the cheek of her bottom, right where it curved to the top of her thigh. “Try again, Reagan.”

  Moisture dampened her panties at the unspoken threat.

  She dragged her gaze from the table to her lap and curled her fingers over, digging her nails into her palms. Quinn’s hands, tanned, strong, masculine, made hers look so small and pale and utterly feminine.

  Mike squeezed her knee, hard. “Now, sub.”

  Sub. Her clit pulsed at Mike’s low order. The words tumbled out. “I was thinking about the three of us, you know, in a relationship. And if I wanted the whole Dom/sub stuff.”

  Quinn’s voice rumbled in her ear. “Any conclusions?”

  The firmness of his arm around her back acted like a brace for her courage. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, I…” She sighed, took a second to think over her words. “I’m attracted to you both. Have been from the start. You know that. But I’ve never been with two men. And you guys are kind of heavy duty, you know? One is intimidating. Two can be scary.”

  “We’d never hurt you, sweetheart. And we’d kill any bastard that dreamed of doing so.”

  She didn’t doubt Mike. Not for one minute. Didn’t that tell her something?

  Quinn gave her a reassuring squeeze with his arm. “You’ve shown courage in admitting your fears. Wariness isn’t a bad thing. We are intimidating bastards. It’s stood us in good stead in our careers. Kept us alive. Adapting to civilian life isn’t a natural transition for us. And all that is besides the fact we are Doms.”

  Mike took one of her hands from Quinn. His fingers wrapped around hers before he lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed the skin over her knuckles, and then lowered his prize back to her knee.

  “We’re not strangers, Reagan. We’ve shared meals together here at King’s Haven, attended the same events around town. Quinn and I watch you chatting with Chloe and Purdy, or even Noah and Flynn. Then you catch sight of us and run like we’ve cracked a single tail on your ass.” Mike’s mouth hardened at the memory.

  Quinn grunted in agreement before saying, “Nervousness seems to rob you of the art of subtle evasion.”

  “Maybe I just didn’t like being stalked.” She glared at Quinn.

  He narrowed his gaze. “Darlin’, you think we missed the way your cheeks flushed pink? Or when you’d catch your breath and look anywhere but in our direction? Jesus, Reagan, we didn’t just graduate from Dom school.”

  Mike stood and gently pulled her off Quinn’s lap. She stumbled against Mike’s tall frame. Her hands spread out on his chest. The steady beat of his heart thumped under her fingertips.

  Behind her, Quinn’s body formed a solid, warm block. His arms came around her front and with one smooth motion undid the knot of her shirt, then slid under the hem of her tank top. Once, twice, his thumbs brushed over her skin. Her stomach muscles quivered as Mike gripped her shoulder with one hand. His other curled around her nape. His hold was so firm and possessive that it rendered her speechless.

  “Look at me.”

  Her gaze flew up to meet his.

  “I’m a direct bastard. So I’ll tell you straight up how things lay for me. You intrigue me. I want to discover all the unique jigsaw pieces that together make you a whole person. But that’s only one part.”

  He tightened his grip at the back of her neck, forcing her lips apart. Her moan sounded more like a contented purr, even to her own ears.

  “I want to tie you to my bed so that all you can move are your hips. You’ll be spread wide so that nothing is hidden from us. Quinn’s a breast man. I love pussy. While he’s clamping your nipples and making you promise to be a good girl, I’ll take my time tasting every sweet inch of your pussy.”

  Quinn’s hand slid higher up her body. His fingers brushed over her bra, capturing her nipple hidden under the lace between his thumb and forefinger.

  He wouldn’t, surely, not here.

  He pinched down.

  She gasped, rising up on tiptoe. A low, humming burn throbbed from the hard bud and raced straight to her core. Her fingers scrunched against Mike’s chest, grabbing at his T-shirt.

  “Oh. I…oh.”

  Dark mocha eyes flicked their gaze to her mouth, then back up. “Imagine how hard you’ll squeal when I suck your clit in my mouth and tease you until you beg for permission to come.”

  The ground dropped a foot.

  “You. Tied down. Helpless. One man with his mouth on your clit. Another sucking, biting, and clamping your nipples. That’s what I plan for you, Reagan. As a warm-up. And judging by what you said in the library, that’s what you want too.”

  God. Have. Mercy.

  “For the record, sweetness, I’m in agreement with Mike’s plan.”

  She opened her mouth. “I d-don’t…” Her voice, catching like a rusty gate, finally swung free. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell us what you want, Reagan. We can take you home and see you to your door and no harm done. Your submission is a gift, given freely. Doms and subs play at force and there’s a time and place for that. But right now, you need to state clearly if you want our dominance. Once we put one foot over your threshold, then we’re in charge.” Mike dropped a kiss on her forehead, the gentleness of his touch in stark contrast to the hard line of his jaw. “I promise you have nothing to fear. You’re safe with us, honey.”

  For thirty-two years she’d been a good girl, the last twenty making up for the perceived immoralities of her wayward mother. Enough. It was time she stepped out from between the pages of her fantasies.

  She swallowed. “I want you. Both of you. For the sex and…everything that entails.”

  Quinn flicked his thumbs over her achy nipples. “You’re so damn cute when you’re formal.” He dragged his hands down her ribs and then out from under her tank top. His hand cupped her pussy over her jeans and pressed firmly. “That will keep you in good stead when given an order.”

  Obedience. That might take some getting used to.

  Mike’s chuckle drew her brows together.

  He released his grip on her nape, brushing the back of his fingers along the side of her throat as he lowered his arm. “Some things never come easy, honey.”

  “What happens now? I mean, we can’t just go. I should help clean up, or uh, you know, hang around. It’s rude to just leave.”

  “Your apologies are unnecessary, Reagan.” Noah’s voice shot over from the other side of the table.

  Eeeep! Her cheeks could have fried an egg. How long had he been standing there?

  Noah’s expression softened from grizzly bear to…no, this guy was no teddy bear.

  “While your blush is adorable, sweetie, it’s about to get hotter.” He flicked a glance at both Mike and Quinn, grinning at their crossed arms. “My friends are good men. Flynn and I trust them with our lives. But to appease the undoubted concerns of my own little sub, one bratty music teacher, and a doctor masquerading as your older brother, I need to hear from your lips that leaving with Mike and Quinn is what you want.”

  She’d been wrong. Her embarrassment rocketed to a whole new level.

  Well, she wanted her life to leap off the page and jump out into reality. First step was the hardest, right?

  “Yes. It’s my choice.”

  “About bloody time.” Noah’s open grin shocked her silent. “You’re in sa
fe hands, Reagan. They’re two experienced Doms, besides being good blokes. And I promise you, if I had any concerns, there’s no way in hell I’d let you leave.”

  With a nod to both men, Noah turned and strode back to the ranch house.

  “Bastard.” Mike’s craggy laughter removed any heat from his insult.

  Reagan grabbed her bag and sweater. Searching for some inane piece of conversation, she started when Quinn caught her hand.

  “Relax, darlin’. We’re not going to jump you on the way to the truck. Now, once you’re past your front door, you’re fair game.” He winked at her from beneath his hat.

  She refused to acknowledge the slight wobble in her legs. The next step was stronger. Yep, she was doing fine.

  “Maybe once I get home, I’ll race you from the truck.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Quinn opened the cabin’s passenger side door. His hands gripped her waist, flexing against her skin. “I look forward to the chase, honey.”

  Her reply was lost in a yelp as he lifted her off her feet and onto the seat. She had seconds to spare before he followed her. Mike jumped in behind the wheel. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  The men’s chuckles drowned out the smooth running of the truck’s engine. While Mike drove them slowly down the winding gravel drive, Reagan couldn’t help but think the journey was much bigger than from King’s Haven to her own small sanctuary.

  Three hours in their company and she’d agreed to allow these men into her life, something she’d promised herself would never happen. Is this how her mother had transgressed? One moment of weakness led to running off with a stranger? Indeed, if that was what had happened. After all, she’d left no note.

  She rearranged her bag in her lap, smiling when Quinn recaptured her hand. Now wasn’t the time to dredge up old skeletons. Her mother was the past. Reagan was taking a flying leap into her future.

  Whether Mike and Quinn would play a feature role in that future was still up for grabs. She was only on the first page. And if there was one thing Reagan was certain off, each book had many chapters.