I draw in a quiet breath, trying to center myself, though my attention drifts back out to the porch like it has a mind of its own.
Two brothers. Two rugged, older, imposing ranchers.
A very bad idea waiting to happen.
The worst part is how little that thought deters me.
“Earth to Janey.”
I jump, turning back into the kitchen to find my best friend Joelle watching me with a knowing expression, “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t hear you come in. It’s been a long day.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her tone carries enough skepticism to make my face warm. “You planning on going to bed anytime soon, or are you going to keep pretending you aren’t interested in those two hunks of men out there?”
A flush prickles my skin. “I needed some air.”
Her smile softens, turning fond. “It’s okay if you do, Janey. They’re good men. Handsome men. And you’re a grown woman with needs.”
I blink, surprised at my friend’s encouragement. She’s had her fair share of highs and lows. I guess falling in love with two cowboys and shackin' up with them in their ranch house has done wonders for her enthusiasm for that type of man. Two years ago, when the only experience she’d had of cowboys was the one who’d taken her virginity, left her pregnant, and ran, her opinion was very different. Now that she has a stable home for her son and a constant look of happiness in her eyes, cowboys are suddenly the dish du jour.
“A grown woman with sense,” I say, even though I feel like I lost it somewhere on the way into this house. Or maybe, there’s something about this place that fogs the mind into thinking sex with multiple cowboys is perfectly normal.A forbidden cowboy menage vortex.Like the Bermuda Triangle but involving much more hot, rugged group sex and fewer strange disappearances. Although right now I wouldn’t mind disappearing into the Fletcher brothers alternative sex dimension for at least a month. They could fold me like a pretzel and roll me in the hay all they like! Not that I’d ever admit that to a single soul.
Joelle shrugs like that doesn’t matter a bit. “Well, don’t stay up too late. Some of us have plans.”
Her gaze flicks toward the stairs, timed perfectly with the sound of Wade’s voice and then Caleb’s drifting down.
Right. Plans. I should really be asleep before those plans come to fruition. I love my friend but hearing her engaging in orgasmic group rancher sex would be mortifying.
Is rancher sex a thing? It should be. All those ropes, and hats, worn jeans and leather.
My mind descends into the gutter. Again.
“Goodnight,” I murmur.
“Night.”
I busy myself with preparing my bed on the sofa and getting ready to sleep. My pajamas are white cotton with eyelet embroidery, a pretty camisole and shorts set that I treated myself to with my last paycheck. Shame there’s been no one else to appreciate them. I clean my teeth, wash my face, and brush my hair.
Overhead, footsteps cause the ceiling to groan. I guess Joelle and her men are turning in for the night. Sleeping down here was definitely the sensible option.
Then I hear laughter from outside. The Fletcher brothers haven’t left yet. What are they waiting for?
You?
I shake my head. Those men outside can't possibly be hard up for female attention. If I had to place a bet on it, I’d say every virgin, spinster, and widow within a thirty-mile radius has succumbed to the appeal of their rustic cowboy charms.
As have I. At a child’s birthday party. Over sandwiches, balloons and cake.
Embarrassing.
My mouth is dry, so I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, intending to head to bed, but instead, I find myself switching it for another beer and heading outside, propelled by some insane craving to live a little while I’m away from my mother’s confining expectations.
Cool air brushes over my skin as I step onto the porch. The swing creaks softly as both men look up at the same time.
“Janey,” Mason says. “Couldn’t sleep?” His voice is an easy drawl with roughened edges, and it hits me square in the clit.
“It’s early for me,” I admit, trying not to shiver.
I usually stay up to read, but I don’t tell them that. I’m pretty sure cowboys have a type, and book nerds aren’t it.
