The Subject Was Rose [The Sunset Palomino Ranch 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Karen Mercury

  Taken by surprise, Rose didn’t have a snappy comeback. Of course if his goon had ransacked Drake’s house he had probably seen some stray handcuffs, cock harnesses, or a spreader bar or two. “And what business is that of yours, Mr. Macklin?” How lame. I’m just giving him an opening. But it was too late.

  “It’s my business because I’m currently in possession of a rather stimulating painting of you—”

  “That you stole!”

  “—and I’m willing to give that back, plus give your man a five million discount on the loan I’m asking for, if you let me pleasure you for one night.”

  Rose’s jaw hung low. “What? Are you absolutely insane? In the first place, you stole that painting! We could—we should—just send cops to your house to get it back and toss you in jail!”

  Macklin never lost his cool. Not one strand of his plastic hair lost its Grecian Formula sheen. “They’d have a difficult time finding it in my house.”

  Of course. He’s hidden it somewhere. Rose lost a lot of her steam. “You’ll be lucky to even get your damned loan to begin with, Mr. Macklin. Drake doesn’t deal with corrupt sleazebags.” But five million? Damn, girl. Did he seriously just say five million? I’m flattering myself now.

  Macklin straightened himself up a bit. “If Drake’s at all interested in keeping his father out of trouble he’ll renew that loan. And I’m offering him—with your help—a deep discount.”

  “Ha.” Did I really just say “ha”? “Little do you know, Mr. Macklin. Drake doesn’t even like his dad.” But five million…think how happy and relieved Drake would be to discover I saved him five million dollars. Rose tried to look more relaxed, running her free arm up the doorjamb and putting all her weight on one high heel.

  Macklin looked suave again. “Everyone has an interest in keeping their father out of federal prison. Besides. I’m an excellent, thoughtful lover, if I do say so myself. I don’t need whips and chains to make a woman feel good.”

  Rose knew she couldn’t reject Macklin outright. She cocked her head coquettishly. “Burt, people like us don’t use whips and chains, per se. I think that’s a corny stereotype by the vanilla world about something they don’t understand. Chains would be very uncomfortable to tie someone up with, for example.”

  Macklin seemed to be getting extremely aroused by the frank way she was speaking. He looked even more like Don Draper when he wiggled an eyebrow. “But isn’t it the point to BDSM that someone is uncomfortable?”

  As much as he disgusted her, she couldn’t alienate him. It would be in her—and Drake’s—best interests to keep stringing him along. Rose already envisioned luring Macklin into her room and binding him to the headboard, only to call 911 on him. “To a certain extent, that’s true. That’s part of the fun, discovering what the other person’s limits are. It’s very exciting to stay in the zone somewhere between pain and pleasure, that fine balance before you really hurt someone.”

  “You seem to be knowledgeable about that lifestyle for someone who felt sorry for me for being stuck working with Drake Stinson. He’s really got you under his thumb, doesn’t he?”

  Rose knew her nostrils were flaring, but it was best to play along with this doucheface. “Maybe that’s exactly where I want to be, did that occur to you? How is anyone being harmed if they’re doing exactly what they want to be doing? Some people are just born to dominate and some are naturally more submissive.”

  “And which are you?”

  Rose actually had to consider that. “I think I’m what they call a ‘switch.’ I can switch between either role. But because Drake is so damned dominant, we naturally fall into those roles. And as for whips, I don’t think either one of us is very into that sort of impact play. Not the sort that might leave a permanent welt.”

  “So you’re an adrenaline junkie.”

  It was Rose’s turn to wiggle her eyebrows. “I never thought of that before, but…yes. Yes, I suppose I am.”

  She tensed when Burt put his arm around her waist and drew her close. But what did she expect? She didn’t think he was planning on giving Drake a five million discount for playing Ticket to Ride with her. She allowed him to press her to his body, but she knew she was stiff as cardboard. She had always wondered why men persisted in kissing—or more—with women who clearly weren’t into it. Because men were just dogs, that was why. “I’m pretty confident I can get your blood going, my little wicked switch.”

  It was actually quite witty of him to call her a wicked switch, and Rose tolerated the conventional kiss he laid on her. She needed to buy more time to figure out what to do with Burt Macklin and his proposal. Her mind was racing. If she could put Burt off a few days, she could tell Drake about the indecent proposal. But no. Drake will just refuse to allow me to do it. No way in hell would he allow me to follow through on a proposal like this. But I could never live with myself if I shoved Burt away without at least trying to save Drake a hunk of change like that. However, Drake would never know why Burt suddenly lowered his loan “fee” unless someone told him, in which case he’d still be furious with Rose.

  That was it. She needed to buy more time. She withdrew from Burt’s kiss, doing a fair job of pretending to be favorably riled by him by leaning one shoulder against the door. “Burt,” she said sweetly, clinging to his arms, “I need more time to think about your generous offer. You understand, it’s late and I’m frazzled. I’ve been working all day and am a mess. I’d like to be a bit cleaner if we have this meeting, do you know what I mean?”

  Burt grinned. “Like dress up in a bondage costume? Yeah!” However, this only caused him to kiss her more enthusiastically.

  Rose apparently wasn’t that good of an actor, and when Burt tried to shove his fat tongue between her teeth, she just wanted to bite him. She couldn’t hide her disgust that well, apparently, and she soon found herself pushing him away. “You’ll just have to wait, Burt,” she said irritably. Before her conscious mind could censor her words, she discovered herself saying, “Besides, we found your stupid jewelry box today. Kitty Chandler, right? Painted gold, looks like a miniature piano?”

  Macklin was shocked into a personality transplant. Eyes widening like bowling balls, he held Rose stiffly at arm’s length. Evidently her sex appeal didn’t cloud the power of the jewelry box, for suddenly kissing Rose was out the window, and relief washed over her. “Yes! That’s it! And what did you find inside of it?”

  Rose frowned and haughtily drew herself up. “I think we should be asking that question of you, Mr. Macklin! That’s the only way you can identify that this is the box you want.”

  “Oh, hell, how’m I supposed to know what’s in it? A ton of ridiculous costume jewelry, as far as I’m concerned, or nothing at all. It’s not the jewelry I’m interested in, it’s the box itself. For my father, you understand.”

  Rose sniffed. “Of course. For your father. Fathers are everything. Well, then. Since it’s so important to your father, maybe we’d be more interested in trading the jewelry box for the painting, and leave the stupid lizard preserve out of it.”

  Burt frowned, and thankfully took his hands off Rose altogether. “I was already giving Drake a break that wasn’t keeping up with inflation. If you want to play hard ball, now I’m raising my loan fee an extra five million!”

  “Good!” snapped Rose. “Raise it fifty million, see if we care! But you’re bringing that fucking painting back if you ever hope to see your damned jewelry box again!”

  “Fine!” spat Macklin. “And don’t forget, I’m the one in possession of the contract that could make or break your future ex-father-in-law!”

  “Yeah! And make or break you, don’t forget, you complete and utter douche,” Rose seethed. She swiped her cardkey so viciously that she nearly tore it in half, and before she knew it she was on the safe side of the door, cranking every bolt she could find, her heart pounding out of her chest.

  She wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight she headed straight for the bottle of white wine in her
refrigerator door. She had to calm down and think. Think what to do next.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jesse couldn’t believe his eyes. He was finally getting his chance.

  Drake was finally allowing him to fuck Rose.

  Jesse started panicking. Did Rose really want this? Jesse had never heard her complain about not being fucked by him before.

  My dick’s bigger. Maybe that’s why she’s never complained about missing out. She’s afraid of me.

  He watched avidly as Rose passively allowed Drake to contort, cinch, and shackle her to the cement mosaic bench. It had been Jesse’s idea to set a play scene out here in the Persian garden, and once again they were having the “Porn Star Experience” by filming the scene. Jesse looked at the video camera’s little display screen so he could feel what it would be like viewing it from a distant point of view. The opaque glass ceiling above cast the perfect muted light on the scene, as Jesse had predicted. The Mayan pyramid the architect had artfully designed on the roof was honeycombed with a hundred smaller domes, allowing the plants to flourish and the air to smell fresh and healthy.

  “You’re really a master, Drake,” said Jesse with admiration, framing the shot just right. Drake had positioned the corseted Rose on her back on the bench, her hands cuffed together beneath so she could not sit upright. Then he’d placed a spreader bar between her thighs, Velcroed just above each knee, forcing her open and inviting to all comers. The tight hourglass corset came just up to Rose’s nipples, squishing each breast alluringly. Every time Drake tapped a breast it jiggled nicely, like a plastic bag full of Jell-O. Jesse was so eager his panting steamed up the camera’s display, and he had a hand full of his own cock in the pouch of the G-string. “Do you ever gag your partners?”

  “No,” Drake immediately said. “I like to hear their responses.”

  “The nasty talk,” said Rose sweetly.

  Drake smiled and fondly pinched her nipple. “You okay?” When she nodded, Drake slapped her tit and gestured at Jesse. “You’re up.”

  Rose’s giggling made Jesse chuckle, too. He felt self-conscious and clumsy kneeling at the end of the bench. Though Rose couldn’t lift her torso more than a few inches, she had seen—and sucked—Jesse’s cock on more than a few occasions. He would probably be offended if she did not express fear at being invaded by his cock, and she didn’t let him down now.

  “Jesse. Be gentle.”

  Jesse tickled her slick pussy lips with his fingertips, priming her. He could judge by how wet she was that Drake’s ministrations had already aroused her, and she jumped and sucked in air when he stroked her clitoris. It was long and fat, stimulated by her men’s presence. “You know I will, sweet honey. I’m not a selfish lover. There is no ‘I’ in orgasm.”

  His feeble attempt at a joke made her laugh genuinely, and the tension seemed to leave her. Her décolletage bounced deliciously as Jesse nudged the crown of his cock inside her channel. “Do you like it, Jesse? Fucking a helpless woman?”

  “I do like it.” Jesse was barely inside of her and already on the verge of coming. He’d waited so long for his turn at mounting the sex kitten, he was already overwhelmed with lust. “But I think I’d like fucking you in any position, whether you were bound or not. Seriously, Rose. You’re the tastiest hottie I’ve ever been near.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Never,” Jesse vowed honestly, nudging his cock in another inch.

  His real question was, what was Drake planning on doing? Drake was such a loose cannon one never knew what to expect from him. He’d been around the block so many times that his feet probably hurt, and he was vastly experienced in this sort of “edge play.” As Jesse humped his hips back and forth, his balls tingled exquisitely. But he felt vulnerable and exposed knowing his naked ass was humping for the camera, and Drake was somewhere over there, behind him, watching and doing God knew what.

  Then he realized that his vulnerability turned him on even more. It was exciting, not being able to see Drake, not knowing what the volatile Dom would be up to next. Now that Jesse was more comfortable with being heteroflexible, he freely let it be known that he lusted after Drake’s superb body, that his mouth actually watered when he watched Drake clothe his prick and balls in that cock harness, when it jutted out proudly, framed by the worn chaps.

  But right now he was finally fucking the woman he’d craved so badly. He held himself up off her so as not to squish her, and he swiveled his hips lightly. The words came from his mouth before he could censor them. “God, I love you, Rose.” The words rang so loudly in his head he was shocked, and he stopped fucking Rose as he held his breath.

  She looked shocked, too. Her plump lips parted moistly, as though stained by berries.

  Jesse tried to laugh it off by clarifying it. “I love fucking you so much, Rose. Don’t you love fucking me?”

  This seemed to satisfy her, for she smiled. She heaved her shoulders so her breasts shuddered saucily. “Oh, God, yes. Yes, Jesse. Fill me up with your big cock.”

  There. That got him out of the trap he’d set for himself. It was much too soon to declare any sort of love, whether or not he truly felt it. He could pretend he’d just gotten carried away in the heat of the moment. And what red-blooded male wouldn’t, really, with a buxom corseted gal spread-eagled beneath him, defenselessly chained to the bench, unable to move more than a shoulder or a hip?

  So Jesse was just sighing with relief and was shocked senseless by a harsh slap to his nude behind. Of course it was Drake, who kneeled behind him with God knew what other implements of destruction. Drake pressed his hard-on to Jesse’s stinging rump as he slid a palm down Jesse’s steamy pubic mound. He gripped the erection that was buried inside Rose, and Jesse felt that he had something in his hand, probably a cock ring.

  “So you’re in love with Rose, too?” Drake murmured, dry-humping Jesse’s ass. His hand slid lower to raise up Jesse’s testicles—Drake clearly had one of those leather cuffs that wrapped around the balls to delay ejaculation, and that was fine with Jesse. He didn’t want to look like a fool coming too fast.

  Too? “You love her, too?” Jesse queried. He swiveled his hips lewdly to indicate to Drake that he would accept more spanking.

  After snapping the leather ring below Jesse’s balls, Drake obliged him. The slap rang out in the enclosed greenhouse, and Drake fervently fondled Jesse’s ass as though to soothe the sting. Jesse’s cock erected even more firmly inside Rose when slapped, as though all the blood rushed from his head and into his pelvis. Drake probably planned on doing this before Jesse’s asinine declaration of love to Rose, but at least he was backing Jesse up. Jesse wouldn’t look like such a fool if Drake made a declaration, too.

  “Of course I do,” Drake snarled against Jesse’s neck. What was he doing behind Jesse? His arm jerked as though he were masturbating, and with a chill Jesse realized he was oiling up his own cock. There could only be one reason for that. Jesse had both dreaded and anticipated this moment since getting involved with Drake. Drake was a raging Dom and he’d only be satisfied when he’d completely owned and had his way with Jesse. Only by spearing Jesse with his cock would he demonstrate his power and authority over Jesse. It was bound to happen, and Jesse had to close his eyes and rise above it.

  He breathed evenly as though meditating. He found that the more he relaxed, the more of the thick, veined cock he could accept. He found that just as with sucking the muscular Dom’s dick, allowing himself to be fucked was actually putting him in a position of power. Drake’s ecstatic spending depended on Jesse. Drake would be so turned on by penetrating Jesse’s ass he’d shoot his load in a blissful fury.

  And that idea made Jesse feel better than ever.

  * * * *

  It was heavenly, Drake’s cockhead breaching the tight anal ring and slipping on past. He’d fucked a few women up the ass in his time, just as a matter of course in being a general, all-around domineering kind of guy. Of course it was wildly
different impaling another man on one’s cock, especially this sculpted, beautiful stud with the velvety, caramel skin. Jesse’s ass was shapely and meaty, and Drake’s hand that still cupped the balls could feel them tighten and draw up as he entered Jesse.

  “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t love her,” Drake said as he nibbled on Jesse’s earlobe. He realized he was saying it quietly enough so that Rose probably didn’t hear him. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that yet. Rose looked exquisite beneath the two men, thighs parted forcibly and kept separate by the spreader bar. Drake knew firsthand the stress that the length and breadth of Jesse’s monster cock could put one through, but he wanted to stretch out this new version of a “Spit Roast” as long as possible. So he shackled Jesse’s balls to prevent him from coming so fast, and savored every inch that his dick sank into the buoyant, sexy ass.

  But something didn’t feel right as he swiveled his hips into Jesse. Oh. That’s it. I forgot something. “And you know I love you, too.”

  Jesse exhaled and threw his head back to rest against Drake’s shoulder. That seemed to have done the trick, for Drake could feel Jesse’s relaxation, his opening up, his acceptance of Drake’s cock. Jesse even swiveled his hips like an exotic dancer, the middle flavor in their raunchy Neapolitan.

  Of course Drake loved them. He would not have offered to proceed with a monogamous relationship if he hadn’t. Drake had been living a self-centered, narcissistic lifestyle for decades now. How could he evolve as a human being having only shallow, one-sided relationships? Already he had changed vastly, actually putting his all into running the ranch. He had gone from despising Shining Lands and seeing it as a hell on earth to immersing himself in its exciting and challenging tasks. He actually liked figuring out how the bale truck worked and learning about stocking pastures.

  Drake loved Rose and Jesse, but he wasn’t very experienced in admitting it. This “love” business was beyond him. He’d never hallucinated that he was in love with a woman before, maybe because he’d never allowed anyone to get that close to him. But Rose had gotten under his skin from the moment he’d harassed her about her pepper pot soup. And Jesse, well, honestly he hadn’t hired Jesse only for his amazing curriculum vitae. He enjoyed watching the creamy-skinned male model go about his business. Jesse had allured and frightened him from the get go.