Branded by the Texans [Three Star Republic] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Branded by the Texans (lit)

  “Dang the red-butt devil,” Dillon growled. Since he was a member of the committee, that could put a major crimp in the plan to claim their own woman.

  Chapter Four

  A Wife’s Desire for Sexual Love

  Dillon did some fast figuring on how to stay with the plan Dono and Dash had devised and keep to his duty. His need to make certain freedom prevailed in Texas blazed his soul. At the same time, his longing for a woman scorched his insides like an old-time firebrand.

  “Damn,” he muttered as his shaft fired up. “Like a missile ready to launch, aren’t ya?”

  Rising, he scooped up his dishes and strode into the kitchen. In moments, he’d rinsed them in the gray water basin, then placed them inside the crude washer they’d mocked up out of scavenged parts, since the ion unit had proved inefficient.

  “You licked yours too clean to wash,” he teased Bonnie.

  Her keen gaze on him, she lay curled in her bed next to the antique woodstove that had been part of the original house. Gathering up all their used bowls, pans, and cutlery, he organized the washer for the most effective cleaning, then punched it on.

  “Inside or outside, cute thang?” Dillon moved to the door. “I’m headed for the office.”

  Bonnie pricked her ears alertly while giving him that penetrating look he’d come to understand meant she had her own business to take care of. As the queen of the pack, she kept all of their wolf-dogs in line, sometimes accompanying them on their nightly patrols.

  Dillon opened the door for her, even though she had her own little door. Springing up, Bonnie gave his cheek a kiss as he bent over for her. Dashing out the door, she ran toward the den-like area he and his brothers had constructed for their wolf-dogs. Her long furry tail waved slightly behind her.

  Stepping out farther, Dillon hollered, “No use wastin’ any power. When the light gets too dim, come on in. Stew’s good, Dash.”

  As he entered the office, Sam, their part-Maine Coon house cat, lifted his fur-spiked mug. He blinked his headlamp eyes and tapped the tip of his tail on the dark-wood chest he preferred lying on, especially during the day when there was a patch of sunlight.

  He and Bonnie had come to an uneasy peace. Sam, for all his laziness, was a fierce mouser and kept the house free of vermin. And he was Dono’s pet.

  “Going to keep me company?” Sam gave him a wide yawn, pretended he knew the secrets of the universe, and kept flicking his tail.

  Dillon grabbed the arm of his leather swivel chair, pulling it out. He seated himself before the computer station and plugged in, then touched the stylus to the screen to activate the system with the unique pattern of his brain waves.

  “ONE ATTEMPTED INTRUSION DETECTED” flashed onto the wide crystalline screen. Dillon tracked back instantly, following the zigzag of ports.

  “Yep, there it is. Washington, D.C., origin.” The black basement hackers, as they were known, considered it a coup to get data from a Texan’s computer.

  He launched a counterattack, then sealed the hole. Chances were everyone he knew had gotten the same warning. Still, he sent the info out en masse along their code-protected underground lines. Republic-wide crews were constantly restoring the lines and creating new ones.

  Dillon answered the few e-mails he’d received from buddies and business acquaintances, then brought up the ranch’s monthly planning schedule. Mostly it served as a reminder of when to pick up supplemental feed and other regular ranching business.

  Since Corporal Buck Nelson hadn’t contacted him yet, Dillon focused on arranging their rotating times down in Pine Springs, beginning with Dono. He had the savvy head for business and could best negotiate with Neal, owner of the general store.

  After stretching fully, then flexing his shoulder muscles, Dillon figured he’d check the adverts in the cyber news section for female items. Like most single men who wanted a wife, they stored the basics they could find.

  “Yeah, come in,” Dillon called out, hearing Dash’s familiar tread outside the room. “I set up our schedule for Pine Springs. What’s Dono up to?”

  “He’s wondering around our future wife’s dressing room like a lovesick fool. Claims he wants to make certain it’s clean and orderly.”

  “You realize it will change things ’round here, including how we all get along.” Dillon scooted his chair over, so Dash could join him.

  “We’ve worked out our differences so far. If it gets too tense, we can settle it at the Saturday night fights. You lookin’ for more girl items?”

  “We’ve got some extra spending money. There might be something we don’t have yet. That, or I’ll set up a fight ring here. Be more convenient to come to an understanding here.”

  “Do you remember that time we rolled like prize idiots in the mud, our fists sliding off each other?” Leaning forward, Dash eagerly scanned the adverts.

  “It started raining and we were all slipperier than greased hogs.” Dono strode inside the room. “Hey, Sam, my cat man.”

  Dillon watched Dono stroke the stretched-out cat several times. When his brother scratched behind his ears, Sam’s low purr sounded like a gas-running motor.

  “Hey, I ain’t no mouse,” Dono mock complained as Sam, playing their usual game, batted at his hand.

  “Yep, I remember.” Dillon pulled a chair over for Dono. “Thought I’d never get all that clay mud rinsed off.”

  “Only had one puny shower then.” Dash snorted a laugh.

  “Too much liquor from a night in town and we were all hot under the collar over how to set up the ranch.” Dono planted his butt on the chair, his focus on the screen. “What about those cute flannel shirts?”

  “We don’t know what size she is,” Dash pointed out. “Besides she can wear ours for a while. Those one-size nightshirts would work, though.”

  “We want her naked,” Dono began.

  Interrupting him, Dillon shot his chair back and stood up abruptly. “Let me know what you two decide on. I’ll give a look later. Once I check on the stable horses, I’m done for the night.”

  “Yeah, sure, see ya in the morning, big brother.” Dono looked up and raised his brow, his way of asking if anything was wrong.

  “Yep, in the mornin’.” Dillon pivoted toward the door. Dammit to ever lovin’ heaven, he loved his brothers. Nothing would ever change that. But, their constant wrangling and bickering with each other often stuck in his craw like a red-hot poker.

  Now that they’d gotten the ranch on a steady and prosperous course, and weren’t worn down to useless nubs, all their stud vigor had come flooding back. Hell, it could crash through any dam with a mighty roar.

  “Like rampaging stallions,” Dillon growled to his thickening cock. God Almighty, they all needed a woman.

  * * * *

  Dono watched Dillon stride out of the room as bristly as a poked-at porcupine, and figured he understood all too well. While in their future wife’s room, he’d been heady with hope, imagining her with them. Course, his carnal yearnings had taken over, heating his shaft to what he called whiskey-drinking blazin’.

  Feeling raunchier than a recruit on leave, he gazed at the screen.

  Dash scooted closer. “The burr under big brother’s saddle is gettin’ bigger every day.”

  “Yep, and we’re one of the reasons. Being punchin’ bags for each other.”

  Dash grunted. “Well, hoopla and hell, all three of us need a woman to devote time and attention to.”

  “Yeah, a woman ’round here would be a mighty breath of fresh air. And I betcha she’ll need some serious taming. I’m anticipatin’ those rides.” Dono’s loins tightened to a raw ache, and he imitated a bucking bronc ride on his chair for a few moments.

  Dash stared with disapproval. “I’m treatin’ her like a gentleman should. I betcha she’ll like that better ’n being tamed like a sore-headed mare.”

  Dono shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe she’ll like both. There are ladies that like a little wicked playin’ around. I’ve know some that w
ent all juicy hot wantin’ to be tamed.”

  Dash gave him a dubious look. “All the ladies I’ve knocked boots with said they especially appreciated my gentlemanly ways.”

  Dono clapped his brother’s shoulder. “Who am I to know different, my lad?”

  “I hate that.” Dash growled his words like a badger Dono once heard. “When you call me ‘lad.’”

  Dono suppressed his grin and his urge to bait his brother until they brawled again. Dillon was right. They needed to do some real growin’ up. Besides, women weren’t tolerant of too much horseplay and fist-smacking disputes.

  There’d been more than a few instances when Dolly, the proprietor of The Lucky Horseshoe Saloon, had beat on his butt with her trademark shovel for settling a dispute with the force of his flying fists. Then she’d tossed him out on his butt. Dolly had been formidable enough. But her two husbands, the Clayton cousins, enforced any rule she made up with a brute efficiency every man respected.

  With a flick of the stylus, Dash transferred to a screen with sex and love manuals for sale. “Look what we got here, would ya? I haven’t been here recent enough.”

  That was Dash. He rarely held a grudge. Like the wind, he simply moved on. “Have you read the manual Dad gave Dillon, A Wife’s Desire for Sexual Love?”

  “Twice,” Dono answered. “Made me hornier than all of Vernon’s longhorn bulls we bought during that summer.”

  Dash nodded in understanding, and Dono could see the corner of his brother’s mouth curve in a grin.

  “Yup, three times. I want to know what she wants, so I can have what I want.”

  “Is that gentlemanly?” Dono ribbed.

  Dash blew out a breath of irritation. “If it’s done right, yes.”

  “Yeah, you’ll do it right. She’s gonna want your lovin’.” Dono affectionately ruffled his brother’s hair.

  “God and good grits, I’m gettin’ horny for our future woman.” Dash enlarged one section of the books.

  “My crotch is as big as Texas since we’re looking at these.”

  The truth these days, dang, his balls itched and ached often. Dono hadn’t said anything to his brothers but wondered if they suffered in the same way. He knew for a fact that all their cocks had gone rogue, springing to life with every change in the air.

  “You must croon that to all those women who fall under your spell.” Dash did his own ribbing. “I’m big as Texas.” He imitated Dono adding his own exaggeration.

  “Yup, that’s my secret.”

  Leaning closer, Dash focused on one book. “How to Seduce Your Wife as the Perfect Lover to All Her Husbands.” He stopped his hand from lowering to his crotch. “What do you think? Should we order this one?”

  “What else does it say about the contents?” Dono stared at the screen now. “Finding her erogenous spots,” he read, “and using techniques of arousal that will make her feel like she belongs to all of you.”

  “I like this part.” Dash highlighted the words by pointing at the screen, then read, “She will crave your sexual attention and become insatiable in her need.”

  “Yeah, I like that too. Put it on the list—”

  “Nope. I’m ordering it right now,” Dash interrupted, his tone stubborn.

  “Go ahead, but you’re dealin’ with big brother.”

  Dash entered their code, then touched the screen with the stylus to complete the order. “Naw, I’m tellin’ him you did it when he bear snarls at me,” he bantered in that engaging manner of his, the one Dono knew women enjoyed.

  “Look at that, would ya?” Dono snatched up another stylus. “How to Pleasure Your Woman with Corsets.”

  “Didn’t that Sally girl you square-danced with and fucked wear corsets?”

  “Fucked? Good thing Dillon ain’t here.”

  “Good thing.” Dash glanced at Dono, a rascally smirk on his face. “Big brother’s fist might have landed already.”

  “Yep. How do you know I was with Sally? That was back when you were fourteen and I was sixteen.”

  “Looked for you in the barn and heard her moaning. I thought it was a hurtin’ animal. Nope. You were humping her on that giant hay mound Mom and Dad used to make us—” Dash paused. “Anyway, I snuck close and watched.”

  “We lost them a few years later. God, I still miss them.” Dono glanced over at the portrait photo of their parents that they kept in most rooms.

  “Yeah, typhoid, bio-engineered to three times its original strength.” Dash kept staring at the screen, his expression pained, yet stoic.

  “A killing field in a season of flooding,” Dono murmured. The permanent ache in his heart flared up. “Course, the yellow-bellied Union bastards didn’t count on the side effect if you survived.”

  “An immune system that can’t be killed,” Dash finished.

  “You never said anything about seeing me and Sally doin’ the naked bump-and-grind.”

  “Figured you’d be mad as a wet cat at the time. Never seemed important when we were on the run and fightin’. Then building the ranch, that took all our energy for a long time.”

  “Yep, it did. And Sally did favor corsets. Claimed they made her feel ’specially willin’ and wanton.” Dono grinned, recalling all his horizontal dancing with golden-haired Sally when they were supposed to be just dancing. “Favored those corsets, too. Since you’re ordering, get me that book.”

  “It tells you how to make them.” Dash squinted at the smallish print, then thought to enlarge the text.

  “I’ll have to improve my sewing skills from repairing shirts and jeans.” Dono rocked back as he envisioned himself pulling the lacings on a finished corset he’d made for their wife.

  “You make our saddles and our chaps, why not a leather corset?” Dash placed the order.

  “Good point, brother o’ mine. I’ll go through my hides soon as possible. Find the softest ones.”

  “We should create a brand for her.”

  The underlying excitement of Dash’s voice infected Dono, and his cock twitched like an angry stallion’s neck. “Let’s make it look like stained glass and on top of a blooming rose.”

  “Like her blooming rose for us,” Dash enthused. He used the stylus, opening the page where the ranch’s brand had been created in several styles.

  Three wild horses ran on the three Ds of their names with the three stars of Texas above them. They used the boldest design to mark their land’s boundaries. There were also designs to mark their animals and a curlicue fancified design they used for the ranch’s products.

  Dono touched his stylus to the screen. “I have a collection of rose pictures and paintings.”

  “How long have you been planning this?” Dash leaned back as Dono took over the screen, bringing up his rose pages.

  “At least a year. Besides, you know I’m partial to roses, the flower kind and the woman kind.”

  “Yeah, brother, I found your private collection of twat pictures.” Dash’s tone was pure satisfaction. He stretched his arms, locked his fingers, then rested his hands on top of his head.

  “Still spying on my carnal pleasures after all these years, aren’t you?” Dono scrolled through the images of roses he hoped to plant someday.

  “Who else?” Dash quipped.

  “As long as you don’t leave anything sticky behind.” Dono framed a close-up shot of a deep pink rose, nearly red in color. “What do you think?”

  “Better ask Dillon. Pleasin’ to my eye, but he’s the one with the artistic eye.”

  “Yeah, artistic. Ever find his private collection of ladies in lingerie?”

  “No. Hell.” Dash rocked forward. “Talk about a fist-whippin’ if he ever found me, though. I know better.”

  “Don’t think you got ammo on me to get your way. Big brother showed them to me. His last birthday while we polished off a fifth of Jack Daniels.” Dono created a separate page, then used the stylus to place the three Ds from the ranch’s brand on top of the rose. After sizing it to his liking, he moved his
stained-glass button on top of it. “That’s a beginning.” He smiled with triumph, then pressed Save with the stylus.

  “Every time we ride her, there will be our brand above her curls.” Dash restlessly moved, repositioning his cock.

  Dono groaned beneath his breath as his stud shaft hardened like a rifle barrel and oozed his seed. “I want to brand her fierce with my lovemaking so she’ll make her curls sodden every time I want her.”

  “Yep, know what you mean. I daydream scenes with her where I’m driving my cock into her, branding her.” Dash let out his own long groan, his hands sliding off the top of his head and onto his lap.

  “Damn, if we don’t find her soon… ” Dono let his words trail off.

  “We’ll have to beat our fists and feet on each other until we’re both senseless.” Dash balled his hand into fist, denying himself.

  “Or take turns pushing each other beneath the waterfall. Dang, that water is always cold, except in the middle of summer.” Dono shivered inside, recalling their shoving matches with each other.

  “I like it, especially after a long hard day of driving the cattle. It’s refreshin’.”

  “You would. Me, I want my tub and lots of steamy water…what are looking for now?” Dash had initiated a products search.

  “Showers. The indoor and outdoor units that are big enough for two. Or more,” he added as an afterthought.

  “Good thinking, little brother.” Dono clapped Dash on the back. “How about those bubbly tubs? I had me some lusty adventures in those a couple of times.”

  “When?” Dash blinked, perusing all the units that popped up.

  “Away from your prying eyes. That’s when.”

  Damn his over-eager tongue. Dono had pleasurably serviced a woman whose three husbands had been away for several weeks. He wasn’t proud of himself for that character weakness. But it was done and over with for a long time now. And he’d never let himself be seduced that way again, despite the many offers. Plus, he’d never let her name slip past his lips. That would have brought a world of trouble down on both of them, but mostly on him.