Drake flapped the disk in front of Rose’s face. “I know just the person. I’ve got an excellent IT guy who comes to the ranch. He’s such a nerd I’ll bet he still has drives that this’ll fit in.”
Jesse sprinted around to the passenger door before pausing. “How will the three of us fit?”
The Corvette had only two seats, so Drake said, “Pet, you’ll have to sit on Jesse’s lap. I know it’s asking a lot, but you can suffer through it.”
Rose giggled. She had to stand on tiptoes to kiss Drake lightly on the lips. “I love being with you. I love doing anything and everything with you, Drake Stinson.” The moment got the better of her, and she flung her arms around Drake’s neck. “Oh, hell. I love you.” And she kissed him so as not to have to hear his reaction, or lack of it.
But of course Jesse honked the horn. “Come on, you love birds! Let’s find out what’s on that ancient disk that’s worth so much!”
Rose started pulling away, fully expecting Drake to allow her to. To her surprise, Drake kept his grip on her arm. She looked mildly at him. “Yes?”
He had a sincere, pleading look. “I love you, too, Rose. Don’t ever leave. Promise me that?”
Rose frowned and laughed at the same time. “Of course not, Drake. Why would I leave?”
“I just worry,” said Drake.
Rose then realized that Drake was worried because of what a philanderer his father had been. And Rose was worried for the same reason, because her father had strayed. So if Drake and Rose stuck together they could get over their fears together. They would support each other, ease each other’s worries, because their worries were identical.
Rose squeezed Drake’s hand. “Well, you can stop.”
She almost kissed him again, but Jesse blatted the horn. “Come on, you horndogs! You can do it later! With me, I hope.”
A tourist couple walking by on the sidewalk looked at them aghast, and Drake and Rose laughed. She supposed she would always have to be on the lookout for aghast tourists or the like. But that was a small price to pay for the joy and happiness of being with Drake and Jesse.
Epilogue
“Here. This is it. This is perfect.”
Rose had to agree with Jesse. The shady oasis was under a grove of desert fan palms, a fine spot for the Boy Scouts to learn about the fringe-toed lizard and preserving critical habitat. It was an agreeably cool seventy-five degrees out and Peregrine Creek was burbling along happily due to recent rains, so the boys might actually see some of the lizards. In short, if the troop arrived tomorrow an hour earlier for their class, they might not suffer too much in the May heat. Already Rose could tell that if they stayed much longer, the heat would become quickly uncomfortable. She’d been too spoiled spending the hot part of her days indoors with air conditioning, even if most of them were in the Cavern’s kitchen, doing the job she loved.
She pointed. “They can set up their archery bales on that sand dune.”
Jesse said, “The troop leader told me there are coots and pupfish in this pond. But some non-native tilapia are eradicating all the pupfish.”
They had been making a good effort to become well-versed in the “green” language of the Coachella Valley. Ever since Mr. and Mrs. Drake Stinson had donated five thousand acres of sand dunes and riparian areas to the Fringe-Toed Lizard Preserve, the trio had become eco-stars in Palm Springs society. The loser in this land transfer was a certain sleazy Field Manager of the South Coast Branch of the BLM. When Drake had told Macklin’s bosses what had gone down and shown them the contract, Macklin had been fired for accepting bribes. Probably thanks to Drake’s honesty in setting the record straight, no one had actually gone after the person doing the bribing—Drake’s father. The Bureau had just continued their lease directly with the oil companies and had renewed the lease on the remainder of the land to Drake at a good rate, so he no longer had the oil income. Drake then promptly gave most of the land back to the lizards under a hundred year lease.
After the Racquet Club incident, Burt Macklin had been pointed out by many people as the guy starting the stampede by assaulting a dancer. Macklin, along with a few other patrons, had a few broken bones and were nearly asphyxiated in the crush, so he’d gone right from the hospital to the jail. Macklin’s racketeering career—or any other sort of career—was most certainly over.
Only Boy Scouts and other nature lovers could come here now. Rose was proud to identify a red-naped sapsucker flitting under the towering palms. Six months ago she wouldn’t have known these birds from Adam. Now she even knew what a pupfish looked like. She knew that the hill behind the palm grove was covered in the magenta flowers of the dye weed, along with alkali goldenbush. Leaning against a palm trunk, Rose breathed deeply of the swampy pond air mingled with the dry, powdery scent of the desert. “This will be the perfect spot for Omar and his troop tomorrow.”
Jesse took Rose’s chin in his fingers. “My sweet honey. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Rose felt dreamlike. “Only every day.” Six months ago she wouldn’t have hoped in her wildest imaginings that she’d have a husband and a lover. It just didn’t compute with all she’d been raised to expect from life. Well, she hadn’t become a stewardess or actress and of course she hadn’t had the two point five children thanks to her ovarian disorder.
She had to look on the bright side. She had Drake and Jesse and she lived in one of the most fabulous homes in the Coachella Valley. She adored her work at the Cavern on the Green. And thanks to infertility, she could fuck whenever she wanted without planning beforehand.
She kissed Jesse softly on his full, pliant lips. His natural peppery scent engulfed her, and she ran her hands down the sides of his torso to grip his hips. They could easily fuck right here. The scouts weren’t due until tomorrow and the only people they might freak out would be some nature lovers.
Jesse murmured against her mouth. “Rose, let me pleasure you.” A naughty smile flickered over his lips. “Let me give you a Feast at the Y.”
They still enacted scenes from that infamous vintage menu. The most recent had been attempting to figure out what a Trojan Horse was. They still weren’t sure, but it had been fun trying out different ideas. They had finally concluded that it just meant doing it dog-style while wearing a Trojan rubber—something they didn’t need, but the dog style and pony play was fun.
Rose wasted no time in sliding off her skirt and panties. She leaned back on her palms on a flat rock, her pussy exposed lewdly.
“Okay, baby boy. Do a good job on me and I’ll give you a Hand Relief Party later.”
Jesse wiggled his eyebrows. “All right! Haven’t had a good Relief Party in a week or so.” They liked to laugh about the silly menu, but deep down they took it dead seriously. Jesse got on his knees and plied Rose’s exposed belly with licking kisses. “My sweet honey. Sweeter than honey wine.”
Rose giggled. When Jesse spoke against her skin, the buzzing resonated deep in her uterus as a tickle. She pressed her palm against the crown of his head to indicate he should go lower…much lower. “I just read that men’s brains have two times the amount of space dedicated to sex.”
She could feel Jesse’s smile against her inner thigh. Her pussy lips literally shivered and clenched in anticipation of the touch of his tongue. A few warm blasts of wind rustled the palm fronds around them, and Rose could smell the hot, sandy currents of air rolling in from the dunes. Jesse spoke against her swelling clitoris. “I believe it. With two men, you’re forced to think about it four times more often than you want to.”
“Oh, I don’t know about tha—ah!”
When Jesse tentatively pressed the tip of his tongue to her clit, Rose high-jumped like a flea. She jumped so high Jesse couldn’t keep his mouth on her, so she swiftly glued her ass back to the flat rock so he could go to town. Making out with Jesse had primed her, releasing a gusher of oxytocin into her system. When Jesse burrowed in like a fierce canine, slashing back and forth against her clit with a stiff
tongue, Rose dug her fingers into the quartz of the rock. There was always such a fine line between pain and pleasure. And sometimes the pleasure became so intense, it seemed like pain. Rose panted as her heart hammered in her chest, and she tried her best not to strangle poor Jesse between her thighs.
Heat rose in her face and Jesse’s talented tongue coaxed the juices from her, warming up her innards, melting her like syrup. She yanked down the scoop neck of her T-shirt so she could pinch her own nipple—that always helped. Sure enough, sensual arrows shot into her uterus as Jesse lapped at her core.
“Ah!” Again Rose jumped about a foot in the air when another mouth clamped down on her other nipple. Of course it was only Drake, who had been scoping out a dry wash on the other side of the dunes. He flicked his tongue back and forth across her stiff nubbin, and she cried out and pushed him away. “Too much, Drake!”
Drake kneeled next to the rock, a vague shirtless silhouette with the lacey palm fronds behind him. “Too much? Since when are two men too much for you?”
“Well…since never, really…” Rose admitted.
Drake was sexier than ever now, in Rose’s eyes. His prematurely graying hair almost in a buzz cut, his well-developed pectorals, his sinewy forearms never failed to turn her on. Now that he had opened up and allowed Rose and Jesse into his life, allowed them to affect him in ways that his Dom personality had never permitted before, he had a much richer character, Rose thought. He had patched things up with his father—Sam Stinson had even been present at their small April wedding over at Shining Lands, palling around with Rose’s father, who was only a printer from Florida. Drake had requested that his father donate the Seurat beach scene, as well as some Monets and Gauguins that used to hang in Shining Lands that had been removed to the Central Park penthouse, to the New York MOMA. Sam Stinson had done so. Maybe this was Sam’s penance for having traumatized Drake as a teen, but it worked out well for everyone involved. Especially since now, Drake could hang Jesse’s portrait of Rose where the Seurat had been in his library.
No, Drake had changed for the better. While Rose never would have married the ornery fucker who had rejected her pepper pot soup, she relished the warm, caring side of him. Really successful Doms couldn’t be uncaring, heartless assholes anyway, she surmised. They couldn’t just whip someone and walk away. They had to provide aftercare to ensure there was no subdrop, the debilitating crash that sometimes came after a particularly active scene. Good aftercare meant cherishing and nurturing the bottom, and a brutal and callous Dom didn’t provide worthwhile aftercare.
“Step aside, son,” Drake now said with authority. He didn’t give Jesse time to step aside, though. He gripped Jesse’s shoulder and yanked him away from Rose’s crotch. Jesse tumbled in the sand and yelled a protest, Rose got up on her elbows and giggled, and Drake unsheathed his cock.
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Jesse demanded.
Drake nestled his cockhead in the slick petals of Rose’s cunt. “Use your imagination, boy,” he grunted before spearing Rose on his prick.
An enormous shudder went through Drake’s body as he lowered himself over Rose. He grimaced as though it was painful, and she knew he was already wracked by ecstasy as he seated himself deep inside of her. “You’re beautiful, Rose,” he started to say, but Jesse had other ideas.
Whack! Rose had to raise her head to see if she’d heard correctly. Was Jesse slapping Drake’s ass?
Jesse shouted, “I’ll use my imagination, you arrogant bastard! You think you control every scene we have? Where do I fit in?” Smack!
Whenever Jesse would spank Drake, Drake would flinch. Yet there was no outcry, no objection. Rose was pleasantly surprised. Was it her imagination? It seemed that Drake enjoyed the smacks. Every time he was spanked, his cock inside her would twitch and expand and Drake would utter a little satisfied grunt. He wiggled his hips to seat himself deeper in her, spreading his thighs as though giving Jesse better access to his ass, his balls.
It was incredibly erotic and new for Rose—and for Drake—to see him in a submissive position. Strangely, Drake lost none of his Dom appeal when he steeled himself for Jesse’s spankings. Drake was plainly getting off on it, his nipples stiff, gooseflesh spreading over his shoulders and down his arms. His eyes were closed as though he concentrated very intently on the pleasure, and when Jesse smacked his ball sac, Drake cried out.
The vindication dripped from Jesse’s voice. “Oh, that stings, does it? Now you know how I feel when you smack me around.”
“Good,” Drake murmured.
“What’s that? What did you say?”
“I said ‘good.’” Drake panted now. Rose was familiar with how overwhelming it could be, the sharp dichotomy between pain and pleasure. Every nerve ending in his body must be on fire. “I said it feels good when you slap me.”
Jesse struck his fleshy ass again. “And your balls? When I slap your balls how does it feel?”
“Good,” Drake grunted again.
“Good!” The spankings rained down faster, each blow sending Drake’s cockhead more firmly against Rose’s cervix. Judging from the expanding pulses Rose could feel in Drake’s cock, it seemed almost as though he might come just from being spanked, just from having his cock wedged deep inside her while having his ass aroused.
It was amazingly stimulating to see the tables turned like this, and Rose leaned against her elbows to watch Jesse. She squirmed her hips while caressing Drake’s face. “You like this, don’t you, Drake? You like being dominated by Jesse.”
“Yes,” grunted Drake.
“It’s sexy watching him spank you.”
Apparently Jesse overheard their hushed conversation, for in a flash he, too, was unbuckling his belt and proclaiming, “Oh, that’s not all, Rose. Get ready. I’m going to fuck this asshole till he cries. That’s right. I’m going to fuck him until he cries for mercy.” Jesse spat into his hand, presumably lubing up his cock.
Rose felt Drake go still as he waited to be invaded. His breathing slowed with anticipation. She asked, “Are you going to allow that, Drake? You’ve never had a cock up your ass. Are you going to allow him to plunder you like that?”
Drake spoke through gritted teeth. “I have no choice, do I?”
But you do have a choice. It was so obvious to Rose that Drake could easily straighten up, elbow Jesse aside, any number of things he could do to get the bratty sub off his back. But Drake didn’t. In fact, Drake gyrated his hips, unfurling his spine as though performing a complex yoga exercise. He was clearly enjoying the abuse, and when Jesse positioned the crown of his cock between Drake’s glutes, Drake became very still. Only Drake’s fat cock pulsated so far inside Rose she felt it behind her pubic bone.
She stroked Drake’s shoulder. “He’s going to violate you, Drake.” She knew how to play the game by now. She’d been in Drake’s position many times, that was for sure, and she thought she knew how to heighten Drake’s sensitivities, how to rile him. “He’s just taking your ass without your consent, and what’re you going to do about that?”
“I don’t have a choice.” Drake squeezed his eyes shut when Jesse entered him. Each word from his mouth was a gasp, a puff of air. Yet his cock plumped, elongated even more inside Rose. “I don’t have a say in it.”
Jesse snarled, “You’re damned right you don’t.” Smack. Rose liked to hear the differences in tone and timbre between Jesse’s ass being walloped and Drake’s. Drake’s ass being spanked had a meatier, more substantial tone. Rose’s mouth watered, wishing they had a handy mirror nearby, as they did in many rooms at Shining Lands. Now she saw Jesse pumping his hips into Drake. The spankings became more infrequent as Jesse became overwhelmed by the sex act, his hips shuddering. “I’m just going to take you, like I’ve wanted to for months. I’ve been craving this muscular, beefy ass. You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to sink my cock into your backside. God, this feels good. Your ass is nice and tight.”
“And virginal,” Rose suggested ov
er Drake’s shoulder.
Jesse’s grin lit up his entire face. “Virginal,” he echoed, giving the ass another slap. He added the flourish of a few backhands as he now pumped Drake’s ass in earnest. “How does this feel, being plundered like this, Drake? You like having another man on top of you, mounting you, fucking you?”
“Yes,” Drake grunted.
Slap. “How much do you like it?”
“Yes,” Rose said with encouragement. “How much do you like being invaded by another man? Jesse always loves it when you fuck him.”
“I don’t know,” breathed Drake, his voice wobbly. “You’re so hung, it still hurts, but you’re stroking against that sweet spot—ah!”
Both men’s bodies stiffened as Jesse evidently stroked past Drake’s prostate. Rose could feel it in the pulsation of Drake’s fat cock, and now she took over slapping his ass.
“That’s good,” she said, as Jesse resumed his pumping of Drake’s behind. She squeezed Drake’s prick with her inner cunt muscles. Sometimes when she did this, it made Drake gasp, and now was no exception. He was being assaulted by sensations from all sides. “Having that cock stroking inside you is turning you on, isn’t it? You’ve always wanted to be pounded by another man, haven’t you?”
“Only by Jesse,” Drake muttered, and all at once his dick exploded inside Rose.
It was wonderful to lie back like that and feel Drake’s fat cock ejaculate inside of her. She could tell by Jesse’s frozen expression that he was coming inside Drake, too. Rose clamped down on Drake’s prick with her inner muscles, squeezing and milking him. Drake came so copiously Rose could feel some dribble down her ass crack as it overflowed her, and she jiggled her hips against his to pump every last seed from him.
Drake gasped, as though gulping air after holding his breath a long time. He raised his torso off Rose and gave a few more thorough shudder of his hips. His eyes popped open, he breathed, and he smiled widely down at her. “Whew.” She could still feel his dick pulsating inside of her, and he flinched whenever she gripped him with her muscles.
The Subject Was Rose [The Sunset Palomino Ranch 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 17
