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

by Branded by the Texans (lit)

  “Next trip into town, I’ll purchase some milder brands.”

  “You think it’s funny,” she accused, hearing the amusement in his voice.

  “Yep, darlin’. I also think my wife is a dainty beauty I should be more careful with.”

  “Good recovery, cowboy.”

  “Kylie.” He hunkered down before her, his fingers brushing back strands of her hair and stroking them behind her ear. “Let the whiskey do its work. I want you to rest.”

  “Gee, hard to do, knowing what’s coming.”

  “You are the spunkiest little spitfire.”

  “What? No spunky spitfires here.” Kylie yawned despite herself. “Sorry, forgot about your lack of women.”

  “Haven’t met any like you.”

  Kylie attempted to stop her stretch and her next yawn, unsuccessfully. “What’d you put in that whiskey?”

  “You’re plumb worn down, Sparks. Take a nap for me. By the time you’re awake, I’ll have an omelet ready.”

  Unable to do anything else, Kylie scooched backward. He lifted her legs and placed them on the couch. Watching him reach for a nearby blanket, she settled herself, using a large leather cushion for a pillow.

  Dillon draped the blanket over her, and the tenderness she witnessed in his gaze made her insides flipflop.

  “One enough?” he asked in that soft rumbly way of his.

  Kylie nodded once, even as her eyelids fluttered and refused to stay open. Her last thought was that the leather held Dillon’s oh-so-sexy scent.

  * * * *

  Kylie surfaced from the black void, hearing what sounded like flames crackling in a fireplace. She stirred, wanting a more comfortable position. Only the smell of cooked cheese and eggs wafted into her nostrils, bringing her awake.

  “Bonnie. She doesn’t need your help wakin’ up,” Dillon reprimanded in a whisper.

  The swipe of a warm tongue on Kylie’s hand popped her eyes open. Obviously, Bonnie didn’t take her master all that seriously.

  Rousing herself, Kylie sat up only to be knocked back by a bundle of fur. Bonnie hopped up beside her. Curling inside her arm, the wolf-dog pressed her warm body against Kylie’s side. Responding, Kylie hugged her close.

  “I’ll put her outside.” Dillon started to rise, his Viking-hunky stature highlighted by the flickering firelight in the dim room.

  “No. She’s fine. She feels good.” Kylie snuggled her face in Bonnie’s thick fur. “Besides, us girls have to stick together, huh?”

  Bonnie made a yip-rumbling sound of agreement.

  “Hungry, sweet thang?”

  “Smells good. But my stomach has to wake up.”

  “Bonnie’s been lying here with me, protecting you. She’ll probably be assigning one of the pack to be your main protector whenever you’re outside.”

  “You have a lot of power around here, don’t you, Bonnie?” Kylie went with her spontaneous feelings toward the friendly wolf-dog, even as the raw edge of her nerves sliced at her belly. “We’ll have to work together, right? Though, you’ll always be Dillon’s girl first. I understand that.”

  “I’m in a heap o’ trouble if you two females join forces.”

  “What do you think, Bonnie? I’ll bet he’s man enough to handle both of us.” Kylie directed her gaze at Dillon. “He certainly knows how to handle me.”

  “Yep, he does. Time for a few bites of food.” Dillon’s steel-dark gaze indicated that “no” wasn’t an option.

  “Oh, he’s laying down the law now,” Kylie crooned to Bonnie. Still, she straightened as Dillon picked up the plate. If ever a man commanded her attention, her obedience, he did, she realized in a stark moment of clarity.

  Using the side of his fork, he cut off a small piece of the omelet, and presented it to her, his expression beyond expectant.

  “Guess it would be impolite not to taste your cooking.” Leaning forward, she took the bite and gave it the taste test, rolling it around with her tongue. “Not bad, cowboy.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin as he held out another forkful.

  Kylie yielded, taking the bite. Bottom line, he cared about her and seriously wanted to take care of her. It shone like crazy in the depths his eyes and in every line of his body. Definitely irresistible to a girl, she decided.

  “What are you going to do, feed me every bite?”

  “We’ll take turns.” Dash sauntered toward them, his tan Stetson plastered to his thigh. Eagerness lit up his features, and Kylie could hear his unspoken yeehaw.

  Dono wasn’t far behind, his black Stetson riding his thigh in way guaranteed to make her pant. Why the freaking hell did they have to look like every woman’s perfect cowboy fantasy?

  So, what was she supposed to do? Tilt her head back, and breathlessly beg them to brand her? Kylie didn’t doubt there were women who would have done just that. As reckless and wanton as they made her feel, she wasn’t quite there, though. Angry defiance still burned inside her. Not to mention she was downright scared.

  “Kylie, honey.” Dillon held up another bite.

  Compelled by his tone, she ate as Dash fastened his gold-flickering gaze on her face. He hunkered beside the stout coffee table Dillon used for the omelette plate.

  Dono lowered himself to the leather couch beside her. Keeping his distance, he lounged back without touching her.

  “I can cut the tension with a knife. Lame description, but there it is, cowboys.” Kylie swiveled her gaze between Dash and Dono, then accepted another forkful of the omelet.

  “You two already chow down?” Dillon asked. “I’m guessin’ not, since it smells like you came in from the barn.”

  “Good honest sweat,” Dash bantered.

  “We couldn’t help but come in and get a look at our beautiful wife,” Dono rasped, low and dark.

  “Talk about hormone production,” Kylie admitted. “You three could rev up a woman who is a total man hater.”

  For some reason honesty owned her vocal chords. Though, whenever she found herself in tense personal situations, she reacted the same way, speaking her truth.

  “Ya hear that, brothers, we’re revving up our honeysuckle rose.” Dash grinned with such intimacy Kylie’s breath knifed inward.

  “Another bite,” Dillon encouraged.

  Half nodding, Kylie opened her mouth for the cheesy piece. After she finished chewing, Dillon leaned forward and dropped a light kiss on her mouth. As he rose, his gaze ravished her.

  “Come on, Bonnie girl. I’ll give you a taste. Keep feeding her.” Dillon patted his thigh, then pivoted toward the doorway.

  Wriggling around, the wolf-dog kissed her cheek with the touch of her tongue, then dashed after Dillon, her long tail a furry banner.

  “Purty amazin’ the way Bonnie has taken to you, Kylie.” Dash straightened upward, tossing his hat on a nearby chair.

  “Maybe she wants to please Dillon. They seem very attached to each other,” Kylie offered, watching Dono reach for the plate and fork.

  “He saved her when she was a wee thing.” Dono forked off a piece of the omelette. With his expression lighthearted, and teasing, he aimed for her mouth. Only the darkness of his gorgeous green eyes gave his lust away. “Bonnie would do anything for him. But Dash is right, she seems taken with you.”

  “Your big brother probably has that effect on most women.”

  Slowly, Kylie angled toward Dono. With a smooth move, he placed the bite between her lips.

  “I dunno about that,” Dash mused. “Women do like Dillon, though. During the border wars, they were either makin’ eyes at him or cryin’ on his shoulder.”

  Kylie inhaled a huge breath, then blurted out, “Why are you branding me?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sealed With a Kiss

  Staggered for a split second, Dono unlocked his body enough to set the plate down. He met Dash’s glance, and his brother mouthed what they both asked each other, what now?

  Switching his gaze to her again, Dono observed her
face as he eased to the edge of the couch. “You’re our wife, Kylie. Branding you lets everyone know that.”

  Folding her arms, she tilted her chin stubbornly, and slumped against the back of the couch. “Okay. What if I don’t want to be your wife in a year?”

  Dash audibly gasped. Dono watched him clamp his lips shut, clench his fists and not move. Everything inside Dono stampeded against her words.

  “A year’s a long time, sweetheart.” With slow deliberation, Dono twisted toward her.

  “You’re not answering my question.”

  Dono blinked at his wife’s adorable feistiness. Sweet damn, if her words didn’t fly at him like bullets.

  Looking like he walked on broken glass, Dash moved closer. “What is your question, Kylie?”

  “If you brand me, how does that work if I want…well, other husbands?”

  After a quick glance at Dash’s blanched face, Dono searched the depth of her eyes. She eyed them both, ready to bolt like a spooked mare.

  Dono figured answering her seriously might lessen her severe apprehension. “That is rare as a blue moon here. But, to answer your question, Kylie, a brand can be removed using laser light and a special lotion.”

  “Oh.” Seizing a small pillow, she clutched it close. “Okay. I still don’t understand. I mean I understand it’s a male marking type of thing. And in this culture it makes sense, a brand. But…it seems way too primitive.”

  “Kylie.” Dash lowered himself beside her, yet kept his distance, remaining pressed against the curvature of the couch’s arm. “Honey, you’re going to look so sexy.”

  “No, I’m not.” Her words were a dead aim for his brother’s middle and he jumped a bit, his expression startled. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that women here think the brands are sexy.”

  Dono held his tongue since he was about to say just that. “Want to throw things at us before we brand you?”

  “Yep,” Dash jumped in. “We could round up all sorts of stuff and…”

  Kylie’s fast glance at his brother quelled the rest of his words. “Just where are you going to brand me?”

  Dillon strode into the room. “First, we’re going to place a small brand on the inside of your left wrist.”

  “First?” Her gaze latched onto Dillon, following his every step toward her.

  Leaning forward, Dillon captured Kylie between his arms as he planted them against the back of the couch. “Second, we’re going to brand you above those fiery red curls of yours.”

  “Oh, God.” Little explosive pants escaped her lips.

  “Third, my darlin’ angel, we’re going to brand you above that round perfect derriere of yours. That ass of yours that drives me buckin’ wild with lust.”

  “Dillon,” Kylie appealed to him. Her desire and her dread lived side by side within her voice.

  As Dillon spoke it, Dono imagined their branding of her. He’d spared himself an image of mounting her. Hell, his cock still speared into the unforgiving metal of his zipper.

  “Everything is ready,” he quietly answered Dillon’s glance.

  “No.” The word burst from her so softly it was barely heard above their stud-heavy breathing.

  “Yes.” Dillon pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Yes, my Kylie. It has to be done.”

  “You can’t…you shouldn’t.”

  “Kylie, there’s just a tinge of pain. Honest,” Dash soothed

  “And why don’t I get to brand you?”

  Her question hit them all like scattershot.

  The silence that followed reminded Dono of the eerie quiet before an enemy barrage struck his squad’s position during the border wars.

  “I’ll wear your brand.” Dono gently claimed her upper arm and stroked. “We can design it together. Then you can brand me, Kylie.”

  Her gaze whipped to him, and even in the dim, fire-lit room, he saw the unique glints in her eyes. She looked wild in a way he’d never seen any woman.

  Women who run with the Earth Mother. The ancient words of their grandmother raced through his mind. In that instant, he recalled her stories, the ones she’d tell each summer evening as they sat around the outdoor fire pit admiring the stars and listening to the night critters.

  “Me, too.” Dash touched her other arm, caressing. “I’ll wear your brand.”

  “Anywhere you want to put it, Kylie,” Dillon growled. “Anywhere.”

  A tiny sniffle escaped her. “I’m not going to stop you, am I?”

  “Dono, go get the brand for her wrist. We’ll show her how it feels.”

  After stroking down Kylie’s arm, Dono stood and swiftly strode toward the marital love room where he and Dash had been with her. Since they didn’t know which design she favored, they’d each decided on a design, then tossed a coin to decide where each of them would place it on her beautiful naked body. With his usual luck, he’d won, choosing to brand their wife above her round-as-peaches ass.

  Dang and hang it in the wind, his cock continued to point skyward in anticipation. His trapped balls ached with rut. Course, all day he’d been in lust, thinking about Kylie and remembering what he’d done to her and with her.

  Truth was, he boiled for his hourglass-shaped mermaid like a pot left on High Heat. Moving inside the love room, it struck Dono all the fiercer. They were about to brand her, their very own wife. The wife they had prayed for, pleaded for, each in their own way, for so many years he refused to count them.

  As he strode toward the mounting platform, he groaned and scooped up the small branding implement he’d placed beside the other two brands. Earlier, Dono had placed everything on top of the low chest of drawers, ready.

  Before heading outside after lunch, he’d carefully replenished the natural dyes and made certain the brands were in perfect working order. The diamond light, as it was called because the light waves emanated from the particle-size gems, mildly seared the dyes into the skin.

  Once they’d decided on the designs, he’d sent the digitized images to their modern day branding irons and tested them out. All the while, he’d been on a stud high, his blood racing with her, with Kylie.

  Considering Kylie’s level of upset, Dono decided it was best Dillon branded her first. Though, they planned to arouse her to a state of feverish passion, so much so she bonded equally with all three of them.

  Dillon pivoted around, meeting Dono’s gaze. Concern flickered deep in his eyes. Though, his brother was already besotted with their wife in a way Dono would never have guessed at, Dillon remained the rock, the bedrock they counted on, even now.

  Placing the branding device in Dillon’s palm, he glanced at Kylie. Her stunning features were frozen as if she’d been covered with a sheen of ice. He should have realized her reaction could be this severe since she hadn’t been raised in their culture. Dono mentally kicked himself for not thinking farther ahead. He should have figured a way to gently convince her.

  “Babe.” Dillon knelt before her, cupping her thigh above her knee. “Why don’t I take you close to the fireplace, so you can see what I’m doing?” He offered his palm to her.

  Stiffly, she gave him her hand. Rising, Dillon eased her up before him. He looped one arm around her middle and lifted her up to his chest. Kylie curled into the crook of his arm. She slipped her arms around his neck, her trust a fragile thing, yet there.

  Carrying her to a bench stool near the hearth, Dillon lowered her on top of it so Kylie sat perched before him. He crouched down, resting on one knee, his gaze trained on Kylie’s face.

  “Sweet thang, I know I’ve said this before. But you’re my dream come true. And to this ole cowboy that’s something of a miracle. No, Kylie, I see it in your eyes. There ain’t nothin’ you could ever do that would change that. It’s not in you. Besides, with me, Dono and Dash lovin’ you, you’re gonna keep bloomin’ like the rose you are.”

  With his tenderness at odds with his mountain-like frame, Dillon lifted her wrist.

  Together, he and Dash moved closer to wat
ch the first branding of their wife. Dillon thumbed over her little soft palm, then caressed her inner wrist. Drawing her arm so the firelight gleamed on her skin, he showed Kylie the implement in his palm.

  “This uses what we call diamond light to blend the design with your flesh.”

  “What if it doesn’t work right?” she burst out. Still, she didn’t yank away from Dillon’s hold.

  Dono stepped closer and hunkered beside them. “Kylie, I tested it first. Just a few hours ago. None of us would use a bad device on our horses, let alone you.”

  “Yeah, I suppose, if you wouldn’t use it on your horses. That I can believe.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then turned her face away, preparing herself.

  “Open your eyes, darlin’. I want you to see.” Dillon’s tone was more persuasion than demand. As she tentatively obeyed, he crooned, “Come on, Kylie, my angel.”

  With the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at her wrist. Dono’s heart jumped painfully for her. “It’s gonna be just fine,” he promised.

  She swallowed, watching Dillon lower the device onto her skin. With deliberate precision he settled it and pressed, activating the brand. An instant later, he lifted the device.

  “Ouch.” Their wife stared at the tiny brand emblazoned on her inner wrist.

  Bending at the waist, Dillon touched a kiss to their brand on her. Rising up, he peered at her face. “Hurt much, darlin’?”

  “No,” she tentatively answered. Her gaze remained fastened on the brand for long moments. “Sealed with a kiss.”

  Her tiny voice penetrated Dono’s heart, and he dang well figured it did the same to his brothers.

  “Sealed with a kiss,” Dillon softly repeated, his heart for Kylie obvious.

  “May I?” Dono extended his hand toward her wrist.

  Her gaze flew to him, her expression fragile as petals picked up by a breeze. Hesitantly she offered her arm. Dono enfolded her hand within his. Leaning over, he brushed a small kiss on her branded wrist.

  “May I?” Dash piped up, his excitement barely contained.

  “Might as well.” Kylie’s gaze shifted to Dash. “I can’t leave you out, can I?”