The Cowboys and the English Teacher [Hot Off The Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Luxie Ryder

  ‘I know how you feel, buddy, but what can we do? It’s not her fault that one of us isn’t prepared to back off.’ Jack laughed. ‘Hell, if things were the other way around and female twins were chasing a guy, he’d be the happiest man alive.’

  ‘Betsy’s not like that, but I can see she isn’t immune. Maybe it’s just the thought of both of us?’ Wyler sighed. He had to give it one more try. ‘I don’t supposed you’d consider—’

  ‘No way.’ Jack looked around to see if anyone heard his shout, lowering his voice as he continued, ‘You back off.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  Jack smiled. ‘I understand, Wyler. I am just as crazy about her as you are.’

  Wyler nudged Jack to bring his attention to the colleague approaching them. Their conversation would have to wait until they were alone. Not that they ever resolved anything. He and his brother had fallen for Betsy hard, based on little more than a few conversations and some fun times together.

  Remembering Jack’s reaction when Wyler had told him he planned to ask her out made him grin. He’d taken a swing for him. Luckily for them both, he missed.

  ‘What in hell was that about?’ he asked Jack when he’d finally gotten him calmed down and back in his seat.

  ‘Stay away from her,’ Jack had warned.

  ‘Like hell I will.’

  Jack’s temper had dissipated quickly. ‘Look, this isn’t just a casual thing for me, okay? I really like her, Wyler. I want a chance to get to know her better.’

  ‘Then we’ve got a problem,’ Wyler had said, his gut tightening at the thought of the beautiful, uptight, sexy English teacher with his twin.

  Many hours, drinks, and harsh words later, they’d agreed on only one thing. That they would ask her straight out if she’d date them both. If she said no, then they promised each other that she’d be off limits from that point on.

  Her reaction hadn’t been the one they’d hoped for. Betsy laughed at first, thinking they were joking. Wyler remembered looking at Jack and seeing how he felt mirrored in his brother’s expression. Betsy had sobered quickly when she saw they were serious and she tried to leave the bar. Only Jack’s quick thinking had stopped her.

  ‘We’d better talk about this,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ve got some questions and I know you well enough to guess you will want answers sometime soon. Why not talk it out now?’

  She’d sat back down reluctantly. Jack had been right. Betsy wanted to know everything—had they ever done it before, why her, did they know how old she was? They’d taken turns answering her every question, hoping that the knowledge that she wouldn’t be the first woman they’d shared didn’t put her off. Of course, it had. Or at least that’s what she said. Wyler couldn’t shake the feeling that Betsy simply couldn’t believe they really wanted her.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Jack asked, jolting Wyler out of his reminiscing. The colleague had wandered off again, leaving them free to continue talking.

  ‘I’ll give you three guesses.’ Wyler laughed at himself.

  ‘I got it.’ Jack smiled and ticked them off on his fingers. ‘Short, English, and fascinating.’

  ‘Amen to that, brother.’

  Chapter 2

  ‘What did she say?’ Wyler turned to her for yet another translation. He didn’t speak much Spanish and couldn’t keep up with the flow of conversation around him. Jack, the one actually trying to have the conversation with the lady beside him, turned toward her too and waited for her answer.

  Betsy laughed. ‘Are you sure you really want to know?’ The very large woman had been pretty outrageous, promising the Texan all kinds of sexual delights if he would just come home with her.

  ‘Okay, maybe not,’ Jack said. His pretense of fear made Betsy laugh. He looked just as at home in the corner of Perdita’s yard as he did anywhere. They both did. The ease with which they travelled through the world made her jealous. They were always so damned happy.

  She had to admit, coming to the party had been a good idea. Her nervousness about spending time alone with them had almost won out over her desire to attend. The thought of disappointing Perdita had forced her out of the house. By the time Jack and Wyler called to pick her up, she had fixed her hair and put on a pretty lilac shift dress that felt cool and comfortable. Sure that Wyler’s low whistle when he saw her was given out of kindness she still tingled down to her toes.

  The journey had been easy and passed quickly as Jack filled the initially awkward silence with music from the stereo in the truck, which he almost drowned out with his appalling singing voice. He’d done no more than put on a clean t-shirt and jeans, and run a brush through his thick, wavy hair, yet he looked amazing. But then again, he always looked amazing to Betsy. Wyler had donned a shirt with his jeans and kept his Stetson on—a cowboy to the death.

  The attention of the female party guests began to make Jack nervous and he grabbed Betsy’s hand as he made his escape.

  ‘Wanna dance?’ He waggled his eyebrows at her as she resisted his pull. Since their arrival, she’d been happy to hide in the corner, sipping at a rum punch strong enough to strip paint. Still, the music that was so much a part of Las Colinas del Mar’s day to day life, and the look in Jack’s eyes, infected her, she couldn’t resist.

  The music had slowed down to a seductive rumba, a gentle rhythm that made her want to sway her hips and twist her waist, no matter how silly she looked. Betsy had begun to do just that when she noticed him standing awkwardly beside her with his arms extended. ‘I kinda expected us to dance together,’ he said in a slow, deadpan drawl that made her giggle.

  ‘Sorry.’ She stepped into the circle of his arms quickly, bumping his body with her own before managing to right herself. Her hands settled on his shoulders, feeling rather than seeing his muscles for the first time. She’d noticed before of course, but she had no idea just how solid he would be. Gently, he placed a hand on the small of her back and drew her in to a respectable distance.

  It surprised her to find out how much taller than her he actually was. Used to always being the shortest person in the room, she’d stopped measuring herself against others sometime in her late teens. Jack seemed bigger than average though and she found herself staring straight at his collarbone.

  ‘So you got a man waiting for you back home, Betsy?’

  The forwardness of his question took her by surprise. She shook her head, sure that if she spoke, he would hear the hopeful desperation in her voice. It struck her as strange that they had worked so closely for the last month and didn’t really know even the basics about each other. ‘You?’ she managed to squeak out. ‘A woman, I mean.’

  He laughed. ‘I know what you meant. At least I hope I did,’ he teased, touching his forehead to hers. ‘Nope, I got nobody waiting for me, either.’

  His grip on her body became bolder after that and he pulled her still closer. Her breasts pressed into his hard chest and her thighs whispered against his as they moved. Betsy stood too close to be able to look at him as they talked. His hot breath fanned her as he spoke, but it also fanned the heat slowly building between her legs. She clung to him limply, a little overcome by his nearness.

  Pulling back, he’d looked down into her face. Obviously, he had spoken and was waiting for her to answer. Blushing, she asked him what he had said. For the longest time, he just looked without repeating the question. His eyes told her he had seen what she had tried to hide.

  His gaze dropped to her lips as she bit on them nervously. Jack’s eyes narrowed and a small hiss escaped his parted lips as he pulled her still closer, ensuring their bodies were in total contact. His cheek rested at her temple and his hands opened fully to clasp her hips firmly, fingers splaying out and grazing the curve of her buttocks. His thighs slid sinuously against Betsy’s with each step and her insides coiled tighter with each movement. Her nipples sprang to life and pressed harder into his chest. He felt it, she knew, as a low groan rumbled from his throat and he flexed his fingers, biting into her
skin. The heat at her groin increased and she became very wet.

  ‘Betsy?’

  ‘Hmmm?’ She didn’t want to lift her head from its place against his shoulder, but his voice got so insistent that he left her no choice. ‘What’s wrong?’ she said alarmed by his strained expression and how rigid he’d become.

  Jack stared over her shoulder in confusion, out into the darkness of the trees surrounding the yard. Betsy turned to follow his gaze, noticing that everyone else looked in the same direction. Even the band had stopped playing, a fact she had missed as she had been clinging to his body. Wyler appeared at her other side and placed a hand on her waist, pulling her closer protectively.

  There in the trees stood a boy, no more than nine or ten years old. He wore a straw hat and carried a parasol. His hand rested on his hip as he threw his head back and laughed heartily. Despite the humor in him, his appearance sent a chill down her spine.

  ‘Brujo Sese,’ she heard someone whisper reverently. Betsy turned toward the sound of the voice and found everyone smiling benevolently at him. Perdita rushed forward, bowing slightly as she approached. ‘Welcome, Brujo. Welcome.’

  She ushered him into her yard, clapping her hands together in glee. ‘We are blessed,’ she said to everyone and no-one in particular. ‘Brujo Sese has blessed us.’

  The small boy strutted forward, surveying the crowd. His manner was arrogant but friendly, like a royal prince totally used to the adulation his appearance caused. People began to rush forward with gifts—food, cigars, and to her horror, bottles of hard liquor like whisky and rum.

  The boy or man took them, filling his pockets with whatever he could not hold in his hands, but not before pulling the top off of a bottle of rum with his teeth and taking a long swallow.

  Betsy gasped before she could stop herself, causing many people to turn her way, including Jack.

  ‘What the fuck?’ he whispered in her direction. She looked at him, reassured that she wasn’t the only one finding the spectacle disturbing. When the child lit a cigar and blew out a large, billowing cloud of blue smoke, she had to put her hands over her mouth to stop herself from calling out.

  Perdita appeared behind her.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘He is not a boy at this moment. He bears the spirit of the Brujeria.’ She repeated the statement in broken English for Jack and Wyler as she remembered that they spoke only a little Spanish.

  ‘You mean he’s possessed?’ Betsy asked too loudly, drawing disapproving glares from those close by.

  ‘That’s a Christian word for it, but yes. You could call it possession.’

  ‘How long will he be like this?’ Wyler asked.

  ‘Until the spirit leaves him. There must be a ceremony close by. Brujo Sese is usually one of the first to appear to the congregation. He is known for his love of the good life—music, food, sex.’

  ‘Sex?’ she squeaked. ‘Perdita, I don’t think he should be—’

  The woman laughed, cutting her off midsentence. ‘No. He does not do those things himself. He just loves to see people in love and from time to time, likes to meddle mischievously to make that happen.’

  ‘Why is he here?’

  ‘Maybe he sensed he could have some fun. The noise of the party may have drawn him in. Or maybe he knows there are people here who need his help.’ Perdita chuckled again, looking at Wyler then Jack before turning toward the approaching figure of the small boy.

  The boy’s gaze fixed on Betsy and she found herself shrinking away from the lewd, knowing look on such a young face. ‘You want him?’ he said in his native tongue, flicking his head toward Jack until he noticed the near mirror image beside him. Thankful they had no idea what the boy had asked. She shook her head quickly.

  ‘No?’ He laughed. ‘Which one do you dream about then? Or is it both of them?’

  Betsy felt the color flooding her face and risked a look at Wyler. His gaze left the boy and swiveled toward her, as if he’d understood the question and was waiting for her answer, too. Dropping his gaze, she took a step away from the taunting look of the possessed child.

  ‘Oh, yes, you dream about them, Betsy.’

  ‘You’re a very impertinent little boy,’ she snapped, retreating into teacher mode in the hope he would leave her alone. ‘It’s not polite to speak to your elders about such things.’

  Perdita leapt forward, alarmed by the way she had spoken. ‘She means no harm, Brujo. She doesn’t know our ways.’

  The boy laughed again, a deep, rich sound that vibrated through Betsy’s ribcage. ‘Hmm, maybe she needs to learn.’

  He beckoned her forward with a crooked finger, as if to tell her a confidence. Despite the fact every part of her wanted to resist, she felt compelled to obey. His shiny black eyes drew her closer, forcing her to kneel to bring their faces level. ‘Brujo is powerful,’ he intoned, as if repeating a mantra. ‘He knows what is in your heart.’

  The boy stepped back, grinning from ear to ear, and then took a long pull on his cigar before blowing the smoke into her face. It billowed around her, filling her mouth and nostrils with its fumes and forcing her to shut her eyes against the sting. The scent was fragrant rather than rancid and she felt her head get light. When she opened her eyes, he had moved away, leaving her on her knees.

  Wyler rushed to help her to her feet. Betsy clasped his hands, allowing him to pull her up, but she didn’t let go when he tried to move away. His gaze flew to hers, showing his surprise at her actions. She used her grip to drag him forward, catching him off balance. His body slammed into Betsy and his instincts forced him to grab her close as she stumbled. She trapped him there by clamping his arms behind her back with her hands, the motion pushing her soft breasts into the hardness of his ribcage.

  ‘Betsy?’

  She could hear the concern in his voice, but for some reason, it didn’t bother her. Betsy looked up into his gorgeous face, at the mouth she had dreamed of and lusted about for weeks, and she licked her lips at the thought of how he would taste and feel. She heard a low groan in his throat and then the reason for the sound as his cock got hard against her abdomen.

  She stretched up onto her toes, trying to reach his mouth with her own. Wyler didn’t resist, standing stoically as she flicked her tongue over his bottom lip. Betsy heard him gasp and felt a tremor go through him. Encouraged, she let go of his arms to wind hers around his neck, forcing his head down for the kiss she couldn’t wait any longer to have.

  ‘Um, Betsy?’ he whispered, bracing his hands against her shoulders and denying her his mouth. ‘Do you think this is really the place?’

  Why did he resist? Her brain couldn’t make sense of it. ‘I can’t wait,’ she heard herself moan. ‘I want you so bad, Wyler. I want you inside me….I want you to fuck me,’ she giggled naughtily, delighted with the shocked yet extremely hot look he gave her in answer.

  Still, he would not move and began to look around as if trying to escape. Betsy didn’t want his eyes on anything but her. Her hands moved again, sliding down his torso and over the solid muscle of his back, stopping only when she reached his denim clad ass. Her small hands barely covered it and she grabbed as much as she could, using it to force him closer to her as she pressed her tummy into the hard ridge of his erection.

  ‘Stop,’ he groaned, but it was a weak protest. Betsy knew what he wanted. She pouted and wriggled against him again encouraged by the obvious desire on his face. Suddenly, his hand buried in her hair and he bunched it in his hand to force her head back. His lips met hers in a brutal, crushing kiss meant to be punish her but it only spurred her on more. Her hand left his ass and trailed across his hip to the front of his jeans and flattened on his thigh, about to slide over the bulge of hard denim pressed against her, when he stepped away. ‘Whoa. That’s enough.’

  Suddenly, her arms felt cold and empty as she was lifted away from Wyler. Spinning around, she found his brother looking at her with wary eyes. Betsy scanned the crowd and could see many of th
e party guests turning away with small, indulgent smiles. Why had they been staring at her? It didn’t make sense.

  Jack had a hand on his hip and she could feel his gaze boring into hers while he stared at her as if trying to figure her out. She took a step back, looking from one brother to the other until she felt an irresistible urge to turn around. She scanned the trees behind her, but she saw nothing. Then she heard Brujo Sese laugh from somewhere in the darkness.

  The sound had the effect of cold water being thrown in her face, and a knot of dread lodged in her chest. What had she been thinking? As if waking from a nightmare, the details of what had just happened crashed through her mind and she felt her insides cringe. What had made her act that way? And how far would she have gone?

  The knowledge that she would have thrown either of them to the ground and fucked their brains out in front of anyone who cared to watch made her reluctant to turn around. She was in no hurry to see the look she expected to find on Jack and Wyler’s faces. Betsy could handle their anger or humor but not their shame.

  * * * *

  Jack watched as Betsy turned around slowly, her eyes fixed to the ground. ‘I…I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what came over me.’

  Jack didn’t know whether to speak, laugh, do something, anything, but he stayed put. Finally, she looked up and turned to Wyler. Jack couldn’t blame her. Wyler had always been the more approachable of them. She tried for humor, as if hoping to take the coldness out of his brother’s gaze. ‘I don’t make a habit of attacking young men.’

  His face had set into a hard mask and she looked as if she wanted to hide from the look in his eyes. ‘You’re sorry? Oh, that’s okay then. But what do you suggest I do about this?’ He gestured toward his groin with an angry jerk of his finger. Jack followed the motion and saw he was still rock hard and threatening to burst through his fly. If Wyler wasn’t so furious, Jack might have laughed. ‘Jesus, Betsy. You can’t play with people like this.’