by Jane Jamison
Bruce Wislant was a good friend who’d given up ranching and entering rodeos. He’d left Garner for the excitement of San Antonio and to start a new career as a private investigator. Bruce had sources on the police force that were willing to tell him more than what the official reports had. He also had informants on the streets.
“I’m fine, but something tells me this isn’t a social call.”
Bruce always had good instincts, and since becoming a PI, his instincts had gotten even sharper.
“I need your help.”
“So they finally got you figured out, huh? The authorities are about to lock your ass up. Am I right?”
“No, asshole.” Mitch grinned into the phone. They’d always given each other grief whenever possible. But he’d have Bruce’s back in a heartbeat and knew the feeling was mutual. “I need you to check on a few things for me. The police down there aren’t telling me much.”
“Are you sure there’s anything to tell?”
“Not that I have concrete proof for, but I can’t shake the feeling that they’re missing something. Or not sharing it with me.”
“Can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to tell you.” Bruce’s chuckle filled his ear. “What have you gotten yourself into, man? Bootleg moonshine? Cattle rustling?”
“Very funny. I’m laughing so hard I can’t stand up. Naw. This is serious.”
“Fine. Shoot.” Bruce’s tone was all business.
“Wish you hadn’t said it quite that way, but here goes. There’s this woman—”
“Figures.”
“Will you close your trap and listen?”
“Sorry. Go on.”
“She’s a doctor down there in San Antonio. Anyway, she’s got someone aiming to put a hole in her.”
“What for?”
He’d gone long past making any excuses for George Glasson. Grieving widower or not, if George was still the one they had to watch out for, the man had to be stopped.
“This guy named George Glasson lost his wife. She was close to death if not already DOA when she arrived in the ER, but he blames the doctor for not saving her.”
“Sounds like he needs to vent. Most of the time, those guys cool down and see reason. How long’s it been?”
“Long enough. Her name’s Chey Kirkland and we brought her back to the ranch to watch over her. We and the SAPD figured it was better if she got out of town until he had a chance to get his head together.”
“Sounds reasonable. So what’s wrong?”
“She just got shot. Thankfully, it was only a flesh wound and she’s okay, but it was too damn close.”
“So this Glasson guy followed her to your place?”
He hated like hell to admit he’d fucked up, but Bruce had to know everything if he was going to help. “Not exactly. We were at the local rodeo.”
“Wait a sec. You let her run around while a man’s out there hunting for her?”
“Yeah, I fucked up. She talked me into it.”
“She must be one hell of a talker.”
Bruce didn’t say it outright, but it was obvious he sensed Chey was more to Mitch than just a woman he was helping. “She is. But here’s the thing. According to the police, this George Glasson guy was home in San Antonio at the time of the shooting. He couldn’t have done it.”
“Maybe he hired someone to take her out.”
“I don’t think. It doesn’t fit.”
“Okay, then, there’s another person who’s not too fond of your lady friend.”
His lady friend? Ordinarily, he wouldn’t spill his feelings for Chey, but Bruce knowing how he felt would tune him in on how important it was to keep her safe. “She’s more than a friend. Wy and I are sure she’s the one.”
The silence on the other end of the line told him Bruce had gotten the message.
“Then we have to make sure she stays healthy. Let me guess. You want me to check around and make sure old Georgie was really home. And see if I can get a lead on who else might want her six feet under. Am I right?”
“Right. Are you up for it? I’ll pay double your usual fee.”
“Bullshit. Friends don’t pay.”
He’d half expected Bruce to say as much. Bruce had been one of a solid group of ranchers who stuck together. Even though he no longer lived in Garner, he was still considered one of their own.
“I appreciate it, man.”
“Don’t mention it. Give me a couple of days and I’ll get back to you.”
“That’ll do. Thanks.”
He ended the call feeling better about Chey’s situation. Provided he didn’t make any more mistakes like letting her go out in public, he and Wy could keep her safe. But were they keeping her safe from one or two attackers?
Chapter Eight
Chey couldn’t stand it a second longer. Although she felt fine, she’d stayed in bed for the past two days, mainly to keep the men happy and to enjoy their tender loving care. But with nothing to preoccupy her time except reading what few books the men owned and staring at television, she was slowly going insane from boredom. A girl could only watch so many talk shows before her brain cells starting dying.
She’d already asked to go outside several times. Going into town wasn’t going to happen, but surely she was safe enough on the ranch. Especially if she stayed close to the house. Her assailant had seen her in Garner. More than likely with all the commotion that had gone on after she’d been shot, he’d taken off. No way would he have been able to follow them home. So how was he supposed to find her? According to the men, the people in Garner wouldn’t tell a stranger where she was. On top of that, they’d let out a holler if anyone asked about her.
Although the people of San Antonio were friendly, the close-knit community of Garner made her feel protected, even welcomed. Just like she’d always dreamed of.
She’d argued with the men, giving them all the reasons she was safe, but they’d finally gone silent, ignoring her whenever she brought the subject up.
As if she needed their permission. She’d only asked to be polite. After all, they’d taken care of her, pampering her as much as they could. They’d done everything except bathe her, which she would’ve loved. One of them was always in the house with her while the other tended to the ever-growing list of chores.
Worse yet, they’d said she was still “too fragile” to have sex. As if. Hell, she’d want sex with them even if she was in an intensive care unit on life support. A less-than-inch-long wound on her head wasn’t going to stop her. But short of tying them down, she couldn’t make them have sex with her. She’d even tried stripping butt naked once and throwing herself at them. Although she’d seen the blatant hunger on their faces, they hadn’t come close. Instead, they’d hurried out of the room. The entire fiasco left her feeling alone and entirely too resistible.
“I’m getting out of here one way or another.” She cracked opened her door. The sound of the television downstairs drifted up to her. If she knew anything about Wy, he was sitting on the couch, nursing a beer and watching a sporting event. Probably either NASCAR or baseball.
Taking care to be quiet, she tiptoed into the hall, then down the back stairs. Once she’d made it to the kitchen, she peeked into the living room. Sure enough, there he was. He let out a whoop as one car passed another.
Perfect.
She pivoted and, snagging her sneakers by the backdoor, slipped outside and into the sunlight. Like a prisoner released from the bowels of a dungeon, she spun around, savoring the feel of the sun on her skin.
Did she dare take it farther? Now that she was outside, she couldn’t resist the idea of going for a ride. Part of her realized it would be taking a risk, but the other part of her, the part that had been cooped up for far too long struck a deal. She’d go riding for a few minutes and she wouldn’t go far from the house. She’d take care and be sure to make it back inside before Mitch came home from checking on the herd.
She surveyed the land. Most of it was as flat as a pancake with n
owhere for a gunman to hide. Weighing the cons against the pros, she strode toward the barn. No doubt Copper was more than ready to kick up his heels, too.
The horses whinnied and nickered as she entered the barn. “Quiet, everyone. Especially you, Breaker. We don’t want Wy to hear.”
Breaker was in the closest stall. He was a beautiful black horse, and although he was the one who’d kicked Wy in the chest, he was very gentle. Unless someone startled him or tried to get on his back. Then he could turn into a whirlwind of trouble.
She moved quickly as she readied Copper. Her head hadn’t hurt since yesterday, but she was careful not to push herself. Putting one foot in the stirrup, she swung her leg over him. “Good boy.” She took hold of the reins and urged him toward the door with a cluck of her tongue.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Aw, shit.
Mitch sat atop his horse, glaring at her. He dismounted then led his horse into the barn. Draping the reins around the end of a saddle horse, he faced her and crossed his arms in the now familiar challenge stance.
She sat up straighter in the saddle. “I’m going for a ride.” Recognizing the “like hell you are” look on his face, she added, “Yes, I know. For a brainiac, I sure can be dumb.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve got more brains than Wy and me put together. But, shit, you sure can act dumb. Get off the horse. Right now.”
She wasn’t about to let him order her around. At least not about riding. “Mitch Wilson, I’ll take your orders during sex, but I’m my own boss the rest of the time. I don’t need your okay to do anything I damn well want to do.”
“It’s not safe, Chey, and you know it.”
That was a hard one to deny. And yet, her stubbornness wouldn’t let her back down. “Not really. I was going to stick close to the house. You can come along, if you like.”
“No one’s going anywhere.”
She’d match her stubborn streak against his any day. Gritting her teeth, she scowled back at him. “Yes. I. Am.”
“There you are.”
Great. Now it’s two against one.
“Way to watch out for her, cousin. Anyone could’ve gotten her by now. What were you doing? Watching baseball?”
“Actually, it was a car race.” Maybe if she had them biting at each other, she could divide and conquer them.
“Hey, don’t go jumping on my ass. How was I supposed to know she’d sneak out?”
“You were supposed to be keeping your eyes and ears open. Not stuck in front of the television.”
Wy moved to stand beside her horse. She tightened her hold on the reins, thinking he might try and pry them from her.
“Damn it, Chey. Why’d you go and pull a stunt like this?”
“Because I’ve got major cabin fever, that’s why.”
“It’s only been a couple of days.” Wy skimmed a hand along her jeans.
If she could turn his touch into more, she’d gladly hop off the horse. “I tell you what. I’ll nix the ride if you two will take me upstairs and put me back in my bed.”
They glanced at each other, both suspicious. “And?” added Mitch. “There has to be more to it.”
“And…” The look she gave them should’ve melted their minds. And grown their cocks. “You get into bed with me.”
“You still need to recuperate.” Mitch wasn’t budging, yet as soon as she’d said the word “bed”, he’d gotten a yearning look that told her how much he wanted her. But the man of a mountain didn’t relent.
Mountains, however, could be moved. “The doctor said two days. I’m fine.” She crossed her wrists over the saddle horn. “So which is it going to be? Am I going for a ride on Copper? Or on you two?”
Wy reached up and tugged her off the horse. Pulling her away from the animal, he hugged her close. She squirmed, but she didn’t have a chance of getting free. “I know how I’m voting.”
Damn, but he feels good. So hard and sexy.
She stopped struggling, then flattened her palms against his chest and luxuriated in the feel of his hands sliding around her to cup her ass cheeks.
“Mitch? What’s your vote?” Her gaze stayed on Wy’s smiling face. Yet when Mitch didn’t answer, she peered around his cousin. “Mitch?”
Wy turned her loose, but before she could go to Mitch, he put himself in front of her, blocking her. Was he blocking her from seeing Mitch? Or for protection?
“Mitch, speak up.”
“Quiet. I’m trying to listen.”
Wy put a finger to his lips and looked back at Mitch. “What’d you hear?” he whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” She felt a sense of déjà vu waft over her. Was the danger real this time?
“Let’s get her inside the house just to be safe.” Going to his horse, he pulled his rifle out of its holder. “I don’t want to get caught in the barn. There are too many places to see inside the place.”
Wy led her over to the stand behind a saddle horse covered with a blanket. “Get down behind this. When I motion for you to come, run for all your worth to the house. Got it?”
Alarm stiffened her neck, but her fear wasn’t for herself as much as it was for them. She’d made a mistake by leaving her bedroom. If either of them got shot because of her stubbornness, she’d never forgive herself.
Wy picked up a shovel then stepped outside along with Mitch. They parted, each going a separate direction. She was alone and unable to see where they’d gone. A moment later, Wy reappeared at the entrance and gestured for her to get moving.
She didn’t hesitate. Whatever they told her to do from now on, she’d do. Running as fast as she could, she dashed for the house. Wy fell in behind her with Mitch close on his heels.
“Get inside fast.” He gave her a little shove, propelling her toward the porch. “Go!”
Fear closed her throat. Would a shot ring out? Would she feel the stinging pain of a bullet? Or worse, would she hear Mitch or Wy as they took a bullet for her?
They piled over the threshold. At least this time, she had both men with her. “What’s going on?”
Mitch set his rifle by the door, and Wy leaned against the couch. In less than a minute, they’d gone from ready-for-anything protectors to a couple of guys ready to lounge around the house without a care in the world.
“You two look like a couple of cats after eating a basket of canaries.” She checked outside and saw nothing. “What exactly did you hear?”
“Mitch, tell her.” Wy took a step away, a sure sign he saw an argument brewing.
“Tell me what?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
She gawked at Mitch, at first unable to understand. “What do you mean you didn’t hear anything?” Then it hit her. “Oh, shit. You made it up to get me inside, didn’t you?”
“I sure as hell did.”
“But why not just agree to go to bed with me? Damn it, Mitch. You scared the crap out of me.”
He snagged her arm, then the other, and picked her up. She laughed, no longer caring that they’d tricked her. “Because this way was a hell of lot more fun. Wy, take care of the horses while I get her back to her bed.”
“Fuck. Why can’t you take care of them? Your horse is the one needing a brush down.”
“Tough shit. Possession is nine tenths of the law. I’ve already got her. You’d better get started or you’re going to miss out.”
She slapped Mitch on the cheek, just hard enough for a little payback. “Don’t worry, Wy. I won’t let him do anything until you can join us.”
“Now that’s my girl.” Wy was out the door without a look back.
She squealed as Mitch shifted her in his arms for a better hold then bounded up the stairs.
* * * *
An hour later and Chey was sure she’d pass out. Her body trembled. Her breath hitched in her throat. Yet even if she passed out, it would be well worth it.
“Ar
e you okay, babe?”
It was the first time Mitch had ever called her “babe.” “Baby” from Wy and “babe” from Mitch. Both sounded equally wonderful.
“I like your hair wet. We’ll have to shower together more often.” Wy wrapped her hair around his fingers. Water dribbled down her neck.
“Two times in one hour isn’t enough?” Not that she minded. She’d stay in the shower all day if they wanted.
“The first time was to get cleaned off. Wy stank to high heaven.”
“You weren’t a bunch of roses, either, cuz.”
Mitch sat on the small bench in the shower and brought her ass to his face. “This time’s just for fun.”
“Whatever you say, sirs.” She’d fallen back into the role of playing their submissive. They’d agreed to keep their roles restricted to sexual play, preferring to keep that part of their relationship secret. She inhaled as Wy cupped her mons then slid a finger between her folds.
“Christ, but you’re tight.”
“Just the way we like her,” added Mitch.
She shivered, more from remembering their first session in the shower. Then had come a wild romp in the bed. Weren’t men supposed to need time to get it back up? If so, Wy and Mitch were the exceptions to the rule.
If Wy hadn’t been supporting her, she would’ve fallen to her knees. They weakened her with their tongues and their hands, Mitch playing with her asshole as Wy fingered her. She was a little sore, but not sore enough to make them stop.
“Make me come again, guys.”
Mitch bit her fleshy ass as he buried his fingers in her butthole. “No problem, babe.”
Wy’s cock pressed against her stomach, his thickness so hard against her soft belly. “Okay, but next time you’re going to suck my cock first.”
Hadn’t she already done that? And yet, she’d be more than willing to do it again. And again. As many times as he wanted her to. Mimicking Mitch, she promised, “No problem.”
Wy lifted her off her feet as the stream of water beat over his shoulders, spraying against her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she opened herself to him. He took her by the hair and thrust inside her.
