Acres, Natalie - Propositioned by Outlaws [Outlaws 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Natalie Acres

  “Well? Are you gonna stare at me or answer me? How do you know about these things?”

  Lane glanced at Art, and Art said, “We know.”

  “How?” she persisted.

  “We’ve shared a woman a few times before,” Lane said.

  “Thought you weren’t with another woman after your wife died,” Victoria reminded him.

  “That’s a fact.”

  She snickered nervously. “Then what are you trying to say? You shared your wife with Art?”

  “That’s a fact, too,” Lane said, his gaze narrowing. His dark eyes pierced through hers, and she wasn’t about to look away first. He made her feel like he was reading her about as well as the great Doc Holiday was rumored to have read the best of poker players.

  “You shared your wife with him?”

  “On occasion, I allowed my wife to service him. I ain’t proud of that, Victoria, and we’ll never speak of it again because it’s a private matter. No, I didn’t go to bed with them, but I would have, if Sarah Ann had required it. Now, I vowed after she died, if Art and I ever shared a woman again, I’d be in that bed with ’em. Thing is, I’ve gotta decide if I want to go to bed with another woman at all.”

  “So you’re saying you aren’t interested,” Victoria snapped, aggravated because Lane seemed to cling as tightly as possible to a dead woman, to a woman who wasn’t alive and wasn’t there to put up a fight for her man’s hand. Hell, if she’d been any kind of woman at all, she would’ve wanted her husband happy when she passed on.

  “You’re making her uncomfortable, Lane,” Art said.

  “Maybe so, but Victoria and I understand one another. Don’t we, Victoria?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, holding her head high.

  “Yes we do,” Lane said. “Art, if I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up—or let anything else get out of sorts. Victoria here is an Indian giver. She’s gonna say one thing and do another if she has the chance to think on it.”

  “You have no idea what I’m willing to do for a man,” she grumbled, thinking she didn’t have any idea, either. How far would she go? Was she willing to please a man at any cost? Was she willing to take two men to bed instead of just one?

  “Well then, on second thought, you heard the woman, Art. If I were you I’d run on down to that river and get cleaned up.”

  “The same offer was extended to you,” she reminded him, batting her eyelashes.

  “Maybe so, but I’ll respectfully decline and make my way to the barn. I already told you, I had plans for ya. That wasn’t good enough. Maybe you and Art will have a nice time without me. Don’t worry, he’ll tell me all about it later.”

  Before she could say anything more, Lane tilted his hat and disappeared into the night.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m not sharing a bed with your friend unless you’re in it.”

  He heard her at the barn door as he snuggled into his scratchy blanket. “I never believed you would. Not for a minute.”

  “I wanted time alone with you, a few more minutes to get to know you.”

  “And just why would you want to do that?”

  He heard the crunching sound of prickly straw rubbing back and forth together as she walked toward him. He rolled over, certain if he kept his back to her, Victoria might take the hint and disappear.

  She didn’t.

  “I think there’s something kind about you, something you don’t want the world to see, but it exists all the same. All you need is a good woman to understand you. That’s all.”

  “I had one of those once. Believe me, her memory doesn’t do me a lick of good now.”

  “But it might,” Victoria suggested.

  “Don’t think so, Victoria,” Lane said. “Go on out there with Art. He needs a good woman. I hope you have yourself a fine time.”

  “Are you pouting?”

  “Me?” He grunted. “Hell no.”

  “Yes you are,” she insisted. “You’re mad at me and Art.”

  “I’m not,” he assured her, thinking that might be precisely what was wrong with him. He’d loved Sarah Ann better than he had a right to love, and along came Art. They took him in, gave him a place to stay, offered him good meals and conversation, and it wasn’t enough. Soon, Sarah Ann came to him telling him what Art needed most was a woman.

  Lane stilled with the memory. He’d reluctantly shared Sarah Ann and listened to her cry out in pleasure the first night she spent with his best friend. He’d never been the same afterwards. He’d resented Art and pouted at Sarah Ann, sort of like he was stubbing up now. Only he really didn’t have a right.

  Thing was, he wouldn’t have been so envious if he’d been allowed to join them. Sarah Ann never mentioned taking the two of them to bed at the same time, and out of respect for her, he didn’t either. But after he’d gotten over the initial shock of his wife in bed with his best friend, he’d had an unexplainable hankering to join them. It later became an obsession which was why he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, if he and Art shared a woman again, they’d enjoy her together.

  “I’m not having relations with your friend unless you’re with us.”

  “And why is that, Victoria? I asked you why, damn it!”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Lane said, forcing himself to calm down, realizing he didn’t have a reason for hostility. “You trust me, but Art comes on so strongly that you’re afraid to let him put his one most valuable possession into your most guarded treasure.”

  “I didn’t say I was scared.”

  “You are.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “So you’ve said a few times. Victoria, I understand all I need to know about you.”

  She stopped walking. The barn was as quiet as it had been when he’d first entered. “You find me attractive.”

  “I find a lot of women appealing, but that doesn’t mean I want to put my dick inside them.”

  “Well, I never—”

  “Yep. That’s what I’m betting on. You’ve never.” He grunted, cursed himself for what he was about to do, and did it anyway. He sat upright and stared right at her. “Am I right?”

  She glared back at him. Her eyes held that pretty shimmer of lust, and yet there was no way she could deny the truth. His suspicions were accurate.

  “I’d let you,” she said, softly. “I mean if you wanted to poke me. I’d let you.”

  His heart stopped and he took a short breath. He’d never heard such a delicious offer fall from such sensual lips. “Woman, go on back to your cabin. Lock your door up real good and tight. Then, take whatever silly notions you have about being with a man—me, Art, or any other man for that matter—right in there with you. Tomorrow, you’ll thank me for sending you away.”

  She didn’t budge. He looked over her shoulder, peering through the small cracks between the wooden planks holding the barn together. He wondered then how many times he’d wished for a moment like this. He’d always hoped he’d find another woman like the one he’d buried, but maybe it was too soon.

  Maybe he’d wished too hard for something he didn’t deserve to have, or perhaps he saw the innocence in Victoria’s eyes and appreciated her purity and beauty far too much to tarnish it. But she was pure. That much was a given and a gift.

  His eyes defied him, but that wasn’t the worst part. As much as he tried to behave himself, his cock rose in his breeches, hard and responsive. Good God, he couldn’t help but crave her. And innocent or not, when she approached him, he wanted her. Right or wrong, he desired her, but more than the lust he was battling, he was cursing and condemning himself for something else as well.

  Lane wanted what Art suggested. He longed to lay her down with another man to witness it all. He wanted to share her. He longed to experience the kind of things he missed with Sarah all because he was too stubborn ask if he could join his wife when she took his best friend to her bed.

  “I’d probably enjoy the hell out of body like y
ours,” he whispered, starting at her ankles and allowing his gaze to drift upward. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. He’d get lost in her voluptuous form.

  Allowing for an indulgent opportunity, Lane gaped at the space between Victoria’s thighs before he shifted his eyes up, holding at those full, ripe breasts. Good God, he knew how to please a woman like Victoria, but it had been a very long time since he’d allowed himself the pleasure.

  “I’m not the type of man who loves a woman right for one night and then leaves her the next morning. That’s how come I said we ought to wait. Let me get the marshal off my ass, and then I’ll come back here and see what we’ve got between us. If it ain’t a big deal, I’ll ride out of here the same way I rode in, but—”

  “But—”

  “There’s nothing else to add,” Lane said, refusing to elaborate. He’d already said enough. “Victoria, there’s no reason for me to take you to my bed when I plan on riding out tomorrow. You don’t want a man who’s due to hang.”

  “Art seems to think the three of us have a connection.”

  “Art or you?” he countered.

  “Art,” she assured him.

  Lane smacked the side of his face, slapping a gnat that landed on his cheek. Flicking the dead bug away, he said with annoyance, “Art believes in the justice system.”

  “You might like me, too,” she said, ignoring his comment.

  Might hell.

  Before he had a chance to rein in his control, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her atop him. What the heck was he doing? There was no point in trying to explain why he felt the laws there would later fail him. Besides, he was due to hang. Since he figured he’d be swinging by sundown, he certainly wouldn’t have a guilty conscience for long.

  “You’re thinking about it,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Yes I am. And you know what? I believe you’re right. I like ya, Victoria, and I believe we’ll have us a real fine time.”

  * * * *

  Lane took her lips and made an impression. He shoved his hands through her hair as he kissed her, his mouth working over hers as he drew her to him, bracketing his arm around her waist.

  Victoria was taken aback by the kiss. A surge of need rushed through her body as he brought her down over him. The way he made her feel was like sitting in the sunshine right after a heavy rain.

  The heat warmed her while the dampness between her legs made her appreciate the hot sensations stirring inside her. Arousal licked at her lips as her pussy clenched with the desire he instilled inside her.

  Lane would make her first sexual encounter memorable, even pleasurable. She had waited for the right man, but didn’t have unreasonable expectations of finding a happily-ever-after. Still, she’d always hoped her first time would be with someone who wasn’t in a great big hurry to get in there and get finished.

  At the moment, Lane seemed to be living on prairie time.

  He rolled atop her, tucking her under him. His lips trailed across her cheek, down her neck, and came to a stop at her collarbone. His tongue rubbed left to right, up and down. “You’re so pretty, Victoria.”

  “Thank you,” she said, nervously, arching her neck, wishing for more.

  He took her hand in his and guided her toward his penis. Leaving her palm against his size, he whispered across her lips. “Stroke, Victoria. That’s all you have to do, sweetheart, just stroke me.”

  Her fingers stilled against him. She studied his expression as she pressed her palm to his groin, willing her hand to move, but unable to gain the courage to pet him the way he perhaps wanted her to caress him.

  She was inexperienced, and he obviously knew that from the start, but the way she responded to him was so unexpected. Apparently, her thoughts were unreasonable. She’d anticipated being able to do what came naturally. Instead, she found herself limited by her fears, disabled by her lack of previous liaisons.

  “It’s okay, Victoria. We can stop if you want.”

  “No,” she said firmly, grabbing hold of his dick. “I want to have relations with you.”

  He smiled. His hooded eyes looked darker as he watched her. His lips thinned. He bumped against her hand, bucking back and forth as he rolled his hips to and fro. “Relations, huh?”

  “Yes,” she said shyly.

  “Then stroke, Victoria. You won’t hurt me. Get a good grip and play with me.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “No,” he said, clutching her hand and bringing her fingertips to his lips. “You aren’t, and you shouldn’t have to in the first place. You’re frightened. Why?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  She shook her head again. She’d wanted a man who would do all the work. She’d wanted a fellow who would show her how to love as he taught her how to become a good lover.

  Taking a deep breath, Lane pushed away from her and stood. “You need to go home.”

  “I am home,” she said, straightening her skirts. With her legs extended, she placed her arms behind her for support. She tilted her chin up and watched him. What would he do next? Did he really plan to send her away?

  “I mean go to your cabin,” he said, adjusting his sleeves and then cursing under his breath. “Or go find Art and tell him we need to get out of here.”

  “Why? What did I do wrong?”

  Lane ran his hand through his hair. “You’re asking me why?”

  “Yes, Lane, why?” A beat later she said, “I may not know how to please you, but if you’ll give me a minute, I’ll figure it out.”

  He took a deep breath and stared at her with the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. Then, he said, “No, Victoria. This isn’t right. I’m ten years your senior. I know things about loving a woman that would scare you to death.”

  “Then show me,” she insisted. “Show me how to be your woman, even if it’s only for a little while.”

  Lane stomped across the dusty barn and then stormed back. Apparently, she’d enraged him somehow, and she hadn’t meant to do that. “You’re nothing but a tease.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are,” he said, snarling. “You think you want me? Is that what you think?” He jerked his shirt up and tore the material over his head. Jagged scars marked his belly and chest. “Is this the man you think you desire, Victoria?”

  She gulped. She’d never seen anything so horrible in her life. “What happened to you?” Her trembling voice was quiet and subdued. She didn’t know what to say. Whatever had gotten a hold of Lane had torn him up at one time, ripped him to shreds, and somehow he’d survived.

  “Is this what you long to experience, Victoria?” he bellowed. “I fought for my wife, and as you can see, it didn’t do me any good. I still have the daily reminder of what I lost when I wasn’t man enough to save her.

  “I can take you to her grave and prove to you that the effort made was in vain. She’s still buried in a cemetery right outside of Tombstone.” He turned around and showed her his back which was marked up a hell of a lot worse than his front. “See this, woman? Is this the kind of man you think you can look at for the rest of your life?” He stomped around for a good little bit and then said, “You don’t seem to understand. If I’m your first, and I reckon I am, you will not want me to leave.”

  Well, she didn’t know about all that, but he seemed pretty certain. She glanced at his cock. He must’ve had something awful special in his breeches if he believed he possessed the power to make a woman want to change her life overnight.

  He continued pacing and rambling. She decided to let him go ahead and get everything off his chest. For a man of few words, he sure had a lot to say all of a sudden. “I might be content to stay here if I didn’t have a rope waiting for me, but even that doesn’t matter. You deserve better than to look at a marked-up man for the rest of your life.”

  Victoria felt the first tear roll down her cheek. She stared at the wayward cowboy she’d come to know in a short
period of time. She saw his heart then, the ache in the pit of his gut. She caught a glimpse of the harrowing past he tried to protect others from seeing, too, the shadow of a ghost refusing to leave him alone.

  His burdened expression was wrought with pain, filled with fury and sadness. It was a dangerous concoction for a man of Lane’s stature, another woman’s husband who trembled with his agony but refused to break. Holding Victoria in his arms had been his undoing.

  She’d done this to him. He’d warned her. He told her he still grieved his wife, and she refused to listen.

  “I think you’re beautiful,” Victoria admitted. “I don’t care about the scars on the outside. What bothers me are the internal wounds. I want you to heal, Lane. Maybe I can help you.”

  “Gosh damn it to hell, woman! What do you want from me?”

  Reaching a decision, Victoria rose and went to him. “I don’t want anything from you, but I have something to give you. Maybe someday you’ll thank me.”

  Chapter Six

  Lane wasn’t disillusioned. Victoria backed away with stark determination marking its place in her haunted, midnight blue eyes. She was frightened, but not scared enough to change her plans, her eager pursuit.

  Her trembling fingers unhooked the first button, and then one more. Her hands propelled straight down her chest and belly as she slowly eased one pearl away from the material, then another.

  Her expression never changed. Her confidence refused to shatter.

  “You don’t have to give me anything, Victoria.”

  “A gift,” she whispered, easing her shoulders away from her dress and camisole. She knelt then, stripping off her petticoats and pantaloons as she left her clothing in the dust and went to him.

  He rubbed his lips together, thoughtfully contemplating the night ahead. “What present are you prepared to give me?”

  “You know,” she whispered, her arm draping over his shoulder.