Temptation

Gideon’s Ring 2

Temptation Wyatt Gideon is through chasing after Trish Armstrong. She may have had him wrapped around her sexy finger years ago, but Wyatt is no longer the naïve teen who'd do anything for her smile. He's grown into a dominant, self-assured man who knows what he wants—and he wants Trish, but on his terms this time. Trish returns home to care for her ailing grandfather. There she finds herself obsessing over the two men she can't forget—Wyatt Gideon and Mitch Brown. Loving the both of them scared her and she ran. Now that she's back and discovers what goes on at the GR&L, the TEMPTATION is too great, and she offers the men a weekend to last a lifetime. Tragedy strikes and Trish blames Wyatt and Mitch. Can she see past her own grief and give into the happiness they are offering? Or will she run again? Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys Length: 53,276 words

TEMPTATION Gideon’s Ring 2

Eve Adams

MENAGE EVERLASTING

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

TEMPTATION Copyright © 2011 by Eve Adams E-book ISBN: 1-61034-830-3 First E-book Publication: September 2011 Cover design by Eve Adams All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Temptation by Eve Adams from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Eve Adams’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Adams’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION A special thanks to my local town sheriff for helping me work out the legality of cattle rustling. And to my editor—thank you for helping me make this the best book it can be.

TEMPTATION Gideon’s Ring 2 EVE ADAMS Copyright © 2011

Chapter 1 He really hated it when Barrett was right. And even worse, their cousin Chris stood there, boasting about it right alongside Barrett. Wyatt Gideon stared out the window, sipping on his coffee. There she was, dressed in nothing but a tight little pair of cutoffs that sat low on her rounded hips and hugged her curvy ass. They rode high enough for his imagination to picture what lay hidden between those welltoned, tanned thighs. Her red checkered shirt—if he could call it a shirt—looked like it could have been decent at one time, but now would have caused a riot if she were in public. It had him hard as a rock. The sleeves had been cut off to reveal shapely, fit arms. She had the bottom tied up high under her rounded breasts, and it showed off her flat, tan tummy. As she turned, he caught a glimpse of something shining in her belly button. Was that a diamond? Damn, that was sexy. When did she get that? Wyatt let out a shaky breath and wiped at the fine layer of sweat that had beaded up on his forehead and lip. Lust bubbled in his veins and coiled inside him like an angry snake. He hated the control she had over him with nothing more than her presence. A long cascade of golden-blonde waves fell over her bare, slender

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shoulders as she leaned forward to tie off the fence that separated her grandparents’ property from the Gideon Ranch & Lodge. Once she had the cross fence back in place, she reached up and ran the back of her slender hand across her forehead. Glancing up, she slid her lids closed over those enormous baby-blue eyes as the sun bathed her beautiful face. “Told you.” Barrett stepped next to Wyatt, his gaze on the woman. “That’s Trish, isn’t it?” Dear God Almighty, she was going to give Wyatt a stroke if she combed her fingers through that silky hair one more time. The last time he saw her she wore that buttery mane tied up in braids. She definitely did not look like every man’s wet dream back then. Even though she’d always been his. “I haven’t seen her since we were both in high school.” She was his first kiss, his first love, his first heartbreak when she left after high school. His first everything. Chris leaned up against the window frame. “Looks like she’s all grown up now.” No shit. “Aren’t you going to go out and talk to her?” Wyatt lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck to stop the cold chills attacking his skin and driving him crazy. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.” Barrett spoke up. “That was ten years ago, Wyatt. I’m sure you’ve both changed. She definitely has.” That she had. “You should at least go and help her with that fence. It took us two weeks to sort through the heads last time our herds broke through that weak spot.” Weak spot was right. Patricia Armstrong could drop him to his knees with nothing more than a wink. She’d always had that kind of power over Wyatt. In truth, Trish had been his weak spot since they

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were both in diapers, when she used to push him down and then run for him to chase her. He’d been chasing her ever since. “Okay, Barrett and Chris. You two had better put those eyes right back in your head before your wife sees you ogling at another woman.” Matt Gideon grinned as he walked in and then hummed appreciatively when he glanced out the window. “Especially that one. Ouch. Is that Trish? Boy, does Gramps Armstrong know how to grow ’em.” Spikes of jealousy crashed into Wyatt’s chest. Goddamn his playboy brother and his boyish charm. He’d only have to flash that crooked grin, and Trish would be putty in his hands, just like the rest of the women who came in contact with Matt. “If you boys get any more drool on that window, I will have your ass. I just washed it. And yes, I saw that.” The four Gideons standing at the large window turned at the sound of Sarah’s voice. For men who swore they’d never marry, the two eldest Gideons certainly seemed to enjoy the married life. Yes, it was unconventional, having one woman married to two men. Yes, it brought discrimination on them and the entire ranch. But, goddamn it, if the three of them were happy, what right did anyone have to judge them? “Hello, gorgeous.” Barrett crooned and pulled his cute little pregnant wife into his arms. Chris joined them and hugged his wife from behind. Sarah Emerson—strike that, Sarah Gideon—was the best thing to ever happen to those two. Not only did she not take any of their shit, she gave it freely to all the Gideons. She made the perfect addition to the Gideon family, and they all loved her. Wyatt studied them together. Would the baby have Sarah’s wild chestnut curls and large brown eyes? Or would it look just like Barrett and his brothers with coal-black hair and midnight-blue eyes? Or maybe it would look like Chris, with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

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They’d all refused a DNA test. Sarah was the mother, and Chris and Barrett were the fathers. Period. Stealing a glance back out the window, Wyatt rolled his shoulders in an attempt to work out the kinks in his muscles. Just watching Trish made him too tense, his balls too tight, and his cock too damned excited to pick up where they’d left off. “Does she have a name?” Sarah asked. “Or is it ‘God likes me better than you?’ Just look at her! I bet those aren’t even real.” “They are.” Wyatt knew firsthand. Dear God, was she even wearing a bra? That thought had his imagination in overdrive and his dick surging. “That’s Trish Armstrong,” Matt answered. “Her grandpa runs the ranch adjacent to ours.” “Hmm, the girl next door. Those are the ones you have to watch out for.” Sarah moved to the window and pushed her way in. “What is she doing out there?” Barrett stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her swelling belly. “Driving Wyatt crazy.” “I’m fine,” Wyatt lied. He grimaced over the heated tone in his voice. He didn’t dare glance around at anyone else. They all knew him too well, knew he’d have a carnal look in his deep blue eyes. He always did when it came to Trish. “Is she fixing the fence?” Sarah asked. “By herself?” “Looks that way,” Wyatt growled. Matt continued to study Trish and muttered in a trancelike state, “That would explain the missing calves.” “What missing calves?” Chris and Barrett asked in unison. Blinking, obviously realizing what he’d just said, Matt flashed that brilliant smile that worked on everyone except his family. “I’m sure they’re just over in the Armstrongs’ field.” “How many?” Barrett growled. Anytime any of his little brothers did anything outside of what Barrett expected of them, a vein in his temple throbbed.

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“About a dozen.” Barrett and Chris cussed in unison. “Maybe I just counted wrong. It’s no big deal.” “No big deal?” Wyatt turned to him. “Matt, it sure as hell is a big deal. Raising and selling these cows keeps this ranch afloat.” “That and what Strickler paid us back,” Sarah commented. Wyatt just shook his head. “We can’t rely on Strickler’s money forever. Hell, we had to use half of it to fight off that bullshit lawsuit by Dutch Barkus last month.” “Was that on the property boundaries?” Sarah asked. “That was the month before. Last month was water rights,” Barrett stated. Wyatt growled. “We’re in the black for now, but if we want to stay there, we have to keep track of our cattle. We won’t survive as a ranch if we can’t account for every head.” “Wow,” Sarah said. “You just channeled Barrett right now. I thought only he lost sleep over the ranch.” Wyatt thinned his lips. “Think again.” He worried about the ranch every damn day. Barrett had a family now, and Chris never had any ownership in the ranch. That didn’t stop him from stepping in and putting the endless hours in to keep it running. But neither one of them could run the ranch forever. Wyatt, being the second oldest, would have to assume that responsibility. He shook his head and turned to watch Trish, feeling the weight of that burden already crashing down on him. It had been one hell of a hard, long winter that never seemed to end. Snow up until May, and then the rain, had all the rivers and creeks swelling well beyond their banks. The flooding in the lower fields stopped the Gideons from using them for grazing. Now that summer had finally started and started hard, the temperature had changed from freezing cold to blistering hot practically overnight. Trish struggled to lift the pole and fasten it in place. After several failed attempts, she dropped the heavy pole and pulled her straw

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cowboy hat off her head. Shaking her hair out, she then leaned up against the fence that separated the Gideons’ property from her grandpa’s property. With her elbows propped behind her, her back arched, her high, round breasts swelled the checkered shirt out perfectly. As if feeling the heat from his pounding gaze, Trish glanced over and locked on to Wyatt with laser precision. And, just like that, she had him. Again. He lifted his cup of coffee and nodded once in greeting, attempting to play down the turmoil pulsing inside him like the drumbeat in a nightclub—too loud and too fast. Those bold blue eyes narrowed in on him, and she pushed away from the fence. Uh-oh. “She doesn’t look happy.” Sarah turned to him. “I would meet her halfway if I were you. Never make a woman walk the entire way, especially when she has that look in her eyes.” “You wouldn’t understand.” As much as he didn’t want to, he turned from the window and got the hell away from that burn he always felt when she looked at him like that. “Understand what?” “Their last breakup was less than pleasant,” Matt explained. He patted Sarah’s belly as she walked by him. “Are you guys going to find out the sex?” “I already know it’s a girl.” “He is going to get a complex if you keep calling him a girl,” Barrett corrected. “I don’t know, cuz.” Chris walked over and hugged Sarah before kissing her on the cheek. “I’m going to have to go with Sarah on this one.” “You always side with her.” Chris smiled as his response. Wyatt tuned them out and frowned as his gaze drifted out the

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window once again. Where’d she go? His heart pounded in his chest in time with the knock at the back door. “Should we place a wager on who that is?” Matt wiggled his ebony brows at Wyatt. “I’ll get it,” Sarah sang. “No you don’t.” Wyatt didn’t trust her any further than he could throw her. Considering she carried his niece in her belly, he decided against it. He marched over to the door and threw it open. Sweet Jesus, have mercy. Trish had her hand up in a fist, about to knock again, when she jumped back at how fast he threw the door open. Her enormous blue eyes shined when she smiled, and then she flashed those gorgeous teeth. Teeth? He laughed inwardly. Nothing good ever came from finding a woman’s teeth sexy. “Hello, Wyatt,” she purred, her grin widening and doing diabolical things to his control. He knew that tone. He feared that tone. “Hey, Trish. What brings you by?” “In case you haven’t noticed with your head so far up your ass, the fence is broken. Again. I’ve spent the last hour trying to put two cross fence poles in place. Now, are you going to be a gentleman and help me fix the fence? Or am I going to have to kick your ass? Again.” Wyatt pasted a frozen smile on his face but couldn’t stop the growl from deep in the back of his throat. Apparently she still hadn’t gotten over the way they’d broken up even though she’d been the one to walk away. “It looks like you had it under control.” “Is that how it looked?” She smiled sweetly.

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Wyatt leaned away from her and watched her carefully. He didn’t trust that smile. “If you wanted my help, you could have just asked.” “Why do you think I’m here?” He narrowed his gaze. That was a very good question. With all of her boyfriends always hanging around the ranch, no doubt she had plenty of muscle to help her with the fence. Lord knows Mitch Brown would jump at the chance for an excuse to spend time with Trish. The man would spit shine her boots if it meant getting an inch closer to her. The son of a bitch. Wyatt hated the fact that he used to call the man his best friend. Mitch was anything but now. When a man went after another man's girl, that changed everything. Mitch knew how Wyatt felt about her, how he'd always felt about her. Hell, the two of them used to ride their ATVs up to the highest of the bluffs surrounding the valley and stay up there until dark, doing nothing more than talking—mostly about Trish. So where the hell was he? Why wasn't he hovering around Trish like always? Did Wyatt's threats finally sink into the man's thick skull? She peeked around him. “Are you going to ask me in?” “Actually, we were—” “Trish!” Matt called out. “Get that sweet ass in here and give me a hug.” She glanced at Wyatt and spiked a single perfectly plucked brow. “At least someone is happy to see me.” Goddamn it. “I’m happy.” “Yeah, it shows.” She flicked a glance down to his groin and back up to his face. With a wink she swayed on by. Wyatt closed his eyes and muttered a curse. He couldn’t think straight with her around, and he really needed his head above his waistline. That would never happen if Ms. Blue Eyes stuck around. He grabbed her by the hand to stop her from making herself at

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home. “Let me grab my gloves.” “I’ll grab mine, too.” Matt seemed awfully eager to lend a hand. “I only need one set of hands, thanks,” Trish said. “I wouldn’t be so quick to make that call.” Wyatt’s comment shocked him as much as it did her. Her wide eyes and paled expression told him as much. Now why in the hell would he go and say something like that? But he wanted to have the upper hand, if even for a split second. Judging by the way her nipples just peeked beneath her checkered shirt, he’d say he had her attention. Every minute of every day when they were together, Trish had had all the control, all the power in their relationship. Since opening the Gideon Ranch & Lodge as a couple’s retreat, where ménage weekends were the norm, Wyatt had found his calling—to be the dominant in the relationship. He’d always been highly sexual, and together he and Trish had learned a hell of a lot. What he’d be able to teach her now would curl her toes. That thought accompanied him as he escorted her out of the lodge and into the blazing sun. Would she be willing to participate in one of the GR&L weekends? A woman as beautiful as Trish Armstrong waiting to be claimed would have every man panting, including Wyatt. He pushed his cowboy hat down to shade his eyes. Would he be able to handle having someone else claim her? Touch her? Hell, he used to kick Mitch’s ass just for looking at her. Wyatt glanced off in the direction of the Brown ranch. He wondered what Mitch was up to these days. He and Wyatt used to get into trouble fighting as much as they did, all over Trish. Mitch had a boyish charm about him, and oh, how Wyatt hated him for it. He’d openly flirt with Trish right in front of Wyatt, and Wyatt, protecting what was his, kicked the shit out of Mitch each and every time. As stupid as it was, Wyatt actually missed the bastard. When Trish disappeared from his life, so did Mitch. They were neighbors

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for Christ's sake. They should at least see each other from time to time. Wyatt noticed that the main house on the Brown ranch looked in serious need of repair. The roof looked about five years past due for a new one. The white siding had faded, the paint peeling and sanded down by age. At least he had some hay growing in his fields. Wyatt looked at the Gideon's fields and shook his head. It was going to be a hard winter if they couldn't get some feed growing. “You haven’t been to a grange meeting in a while,” Trish pointed out as they stopped at the broken part of the fence. She leaned back on her elbows and lifted her hat, teasing him with those laughing blue eyes. “Why is that?” He set his jaw and turned from her, busying himself with lifting the pole instead of losing himself in her eyes and fighting with a whole other pole. Goddamn, it was hot out here. Sweat had already sprouted up on his upper lip and brow. It had nothing to do with the way Trish looked at him with those seductive eyes. “I’ve been busy. Do you want to give me a hand here?” She reached down and grabbed the pole, the gesture cascading her hair down over her shoulder and brushing up against his arm. He ignored the jab of lust that attacked his balls and stiffened his cock. He came out here to fix the fence, not fuck her. Together they slipped the end of the pole into the waiting hole, both stealing heated glances at each other as they forced the two pieces together. Wyatt held it in place as Trish tied it off. After securing the pole, Trish hesitated instead of stepping back. She tilted her chin until her lips were positioned perfectly. Wyatt licked his in return. “Is that everything?” he asked, his voice thick with lust. “I, uh, need you to, um… There’s another hole that needs a pole.” Her nostrils flared as her eyes darkened. Wyatt damn near swallowed his tongue. Did she just say that? He leaned closer, so that his lips whispered against hers. Since when did

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she get so bold? She never used to say what she wanted. It was one of the things they’d fight about. “Is that so? And where might this hole be?” She shuddered a breath against his, tickling his face. “One guess.” Holy shit. He nuzzled his nose against hers. “Is it smaller than a bread box?” “Depends on my mood.” Dear God in heaven, how he loved that comeback. “And what kind of mood are you in right now?” He smelled her arousal, a cross between musky and mouthwatering, and his dick reacted by swelling painfully. How in the hell did she do this to him every fucking time? “Kiss me.” No way. They’d waited ten years for this reunion. As soon as his lips touched hers, he’d be powerless to stop from taking her. He needed to prolong this verbal foreplay until he had enough control to take her the way he’d always wanted. “Answer my question.” She blinked those enormous eyes and looked at him, her pretty brow crinkled into a frown. And he knew why. He’d never once turned down one of her requests, especially when it came to kissing, among other things. Not this time. He’d changed, and he’d like to think for the better. If she wanted to start back up with him, she needed to know exactly what kind of man she was about to start back up with. He wasn’t the same pussy-whipped man she remembered. He’d blossomed into a dominant, sexual male who knew what he wanted. And he wanted her. Right here. Right now.

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Chapter 2 Trish pulled in a deep breath and held it. It had taken her the better part of the summer to get up the nerve to talk to Wyatt Gideon, let alone actually kiss him. She had hoped their reunion would turn into something like this, although the time and place surprised her. Wyatt never did anything outside of the safety zone. Of all the Gideons, with maybe Michael as the exception, Wyatt was the most predictable. Except now. Trish couldn’t predict a damn thing about him, and that bothered the hell out of her. “What brings you back?” Wyatt asked. He teased her relentlessly by gently running his nose along her jaw. Her need for this man bordered on violent, and having him torment her like this only made her want him more. “I came back for Gramps.” “How long have you been in town?” “Since the beginning of May.” Wyatt narrowed that debilitating Gideon blue gaze at her. “This is the first time I’ve seen you.” “Do you make it a point of knowing where I am?” “As a matter of fact, I do.” A tremor of shock ripped through her at his comment. She flicked her gaze up to him. Now that was an interesting look and one she’d never seen on his handsome face before. Since when did he have such a dominant look about him? Wyatt. Sweet, beautiful Wyatt. Not an assertive bone in his body. He let her walk all over him, and she hated him for it.

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But now? Something was different about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on, but it definitely had her intrigued. She couldn’t stand it. “Are you going to kiss me?” “All in good time,” he told her in that silky-smooth voice that still haunted her dreams. She’d been in love with him since they were six years old. She’d fallen in love with Wyatt Gideon before she even knew the meaning of the word. Not until she left the ranch and inserted herself out into the real world did she really understand the connection she and Wyatt shared. The world she found outside of Montana, a world in a race to get ahead—of what, she still didn’t know—made her miss the ranch so much she couldn’t breathe. And miss Wyatt. God, how she missed him. Trish’s skin caught fire when Wyatt brought his hand up and cupped it behind her neck, holding her in place. He rested his forehead to hers and parted his lips. She parted hers in return. “Did you break this fence on purpose so that I’d come out here?” He combed his fingers into her hair and fisted it tight. The whole time he still ran his nose along her jaw, her cheeks, her lips. It drove her crazy and made every cell in her body hum. “I had to come and get you,” she reminded him. “That’s the second question you refused to answer.” The fist in her hair increased in pressure, the sheer dominance enough to make her climax in anticipation of what else he’d dominate. “Ask me a question worth answering.” A wry smile curled the corners of his sensual lips. “What would you do if I ripped those barely decent shorts from your curvy little body and buried my cock deep inside your tight pussy?” Oh, dear Jesus. Where did he learn to talk like that? And why did it just send a flood of blistering juices down her channel, coating her pussy? His erection pushed against her hip, and she rocked into him,

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desperate for contact. “I’d let you.” He grabbed her wrists in his hand and lifted them above her head. With his other hand he traced the exposed flesh of her midriff. Chills danced across her skin despite the heat from the sun blazing down on them. And then his hand dipped down below the waistband of her cutoffs, under the thin material of her panties, and kept going until the tight denim stopped him. He let out a ragged breath against her ear. “You like to tease me, don’t you, Trish? You like to drive me to within an inch of my sanity. Well, you win. I’m there, baby. You’ve got me so hard for you I’m insane with need.” He wasn’t the only one. If she didn’t touch him soon, she’d die from want. She tried to break free from his hold and burrow her hands beneath his shirt, but he tightened his grip on her wrists. “Oh, no, you don’t. All our lives you’ve had the control. Control over my thoughts. Control over my body. Well, not this time, Trish. This time I’m the one in control.” She arched her back and sucked in a breath when he bit down on her neck, sending a shockwave of pleasure ripping through her. Dear God, did she love this new Wyatt. So dominant. So sexual. If he would have shown this side of him ten years ago, she would have never left. He unbuttoned her cutoffs and slowly lowered the zipper. The vibration of the motion caused her to shiver as the coarse material moved against the lips of her freshly waxed pussy. He moved his fingers between her legs and dipped them into the saturated cleft, brushing across her clit and drawing a gasp out of her. “Open your legs for me,” he ordered against her ear before delivering a heated nip. “Make me,” she said, challenging him. She may love this dominant side of him, but that did not make her submissive. Far from it. If anything, she wanted to defy him even more.

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He pushed his knee between hers and forced her legs open just enough for him to slip those diabolical fingers past her entrance. He didn’t thrust them in, which was what she needed right now. Instead, he eased two fingers in while using his thumb to pay special attention to her clit. “Nice and smooth. I like the bare pussy, Trish. It makes me even harder for you.” She released a ragged cry and rocked her hips against his fingers. He already had her so close. Just a few more strokes from his thumb, a few more thrusts of his fingers and she’d shatter. He trailed kisses along her jaw as he worked his way to her lips. “Have you dreamed about this, Trish? Have you died a little more every day since you left me with nothing but your memory to warm me? Because I have, baby. You killed me the day you left.” She tried to pull her arms down, but he still held them tight. Damn it. She whimpered. “Then let me bring you back to life, Wyatt.” The pace of his fingers increased, destroying any sense of sanity she had. He slid them all the way out and then thrust them in hard. She cried out and arched. Just once more. “How?” Tilting her chin up enough to rest her lips against his, she then ran her tongue along his bottom lip. “I’m here. Let me love you. We can go back to—” “Right here,” he interrupted and sucked on her lower lip. “Right now.” “H–Here?” She looked around. They were in plain view of the lodge. He whispered kisses against her lips. “Is that a problem?” “What if someone sees us?” “Then let them watch.” He slanted his lips over hers and finally kissed her. No, he didn’t just kiss her. He devoured her. She met his kiss with equal hunger, frantic with need. Who cares where they were? She had to have him inside her. Years of longing, aching for his touch, turned her insides to liquid and melted straight

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through to her core. When he released her wrists to wrap his arms around her and crush her to him, she moaned into his mouth. He took it as an invitation and stabbed his tongue past her lips, feeding on hers. Fire blazed through her, an inferno so intense she was sure she’d end up nothing but a pile of ash in a matter of seconds. She moaned again. “Take off your shorts,” he demanded in a raspy whisper. “But leave the G-string.” She swallowed thickly. ”Why leave anything on?” He pulled back and winked at her, debilitating her senses with that devastating grin of his. “I have a few ideas of what we can do. This ain’t my first rodeo, sweetheart.” She slid the tight cutoffs over her hips and stepped out of them. When she reached up to unbutton her shirt, he stopped her. “No. Just like that. Stay just like that.” The hunger that had darkened his eyes also thickened his voice. She loved it. He’d never looked at her like that, with lust so hot the air crackled between them. Yet he had a restrained control that she wished she possessed. “Stand back. Let me look at you.” She fidgeted with her hands, not sure what to do with them, as she kept stealing glances at their surroundings. Someone was going to see her standing here. “Wyatt, why can’t we at least hide behind some trees or something. I feel exposed out here.” He took a step toward her. “Does that make you nervous?” Encasing her, he ran his hand along her hip, across her bare backside, and finally cupped one of her ass cheeks as he stopped behind her. His lips scraped her ear as he whispered, “Or does it excite you? Tell the truth, Trish. You, standing there with that hot little body, making my cock as hard as a goddamn rock, turns you on.” Tremors of shock rippled through her, tightening her nipples and flooding her pussy. This new Wyatt had her so far out of her comfort zone, she didn’t know whether she liked it or not.

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“Talk to me, baby. I want to hear your voice thick with lust as you tell me how much you want me. I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” “Please,” she whispered, hating how desperate she sounded. She’d never had to tell him what she wanted. He’d always known. “Shit, Trish. Your nipples are going to tear right through that shirt.” He bit down at the cords of her neck and then licked where he’d bitten her to cool her skin. She shuddered. He pulled her back against him while at the same time reaching between her legs and easing two fingers into her weeping vagina. Her knees wobbled. He was being gentle, too gentle. She didn’t want gentle right now. She needed him to fuck her and fuck her now. “Wyatt,” she whimpered when he withdrew his fingers and brought them forward to attack her clit. “Damn you.” “Am I doing something you don’t like?” He circled her everswelling clit in a slow, lazy motion. “No.” She rocked her hips, frantic for this torture to end. His other hand came up and cupped a breast. He pinched at her nipple, and she sucked in a breath. “Do you want me to stop?” She shook her head. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.” “You,” she answered. “I want you.” “Like this?” He moved his fingers to her entrance and sank them inside her. “Do you want me to finger-fuck you until you explode?” Dear Jesus, how she did. She needed the release before he killed her from the torture. But she needed more than his fingers. “Wyatt, please.” “Please what, baby?” “Please stop this.” He did. It took her a few seconds to pull herself in from her daze before she realized he’d not only pulled back, but stepped away from her. “What are you doing?”

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Damn him and his arrogant grin. “You told me to stop. I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to.” She didn't want him to stop, yet he didn't hesitate to do just that. Her lust faded to anger. How dare he take her that close to the edge and not send her flying. She narrowed her gaze at him. “I didn’t want you to undress me out here in the open, but that didn’t stop you, now did it?” He spiked one of those ebony brows. “I didn’t remove a single article of your barely there clothes, my dear. That was all you.” She dropped her jaw and then snapped it shut. “You asked me to.” “You could have said no. I seem to remember you knew how to say that word quite well.” Humiliation burned her cheeks. She reached down, grabbed her shorts, and shoved her long legs through the openings. “Damn you, Wyatt Gideon. You haven’t changed at all.” His lips quirked. “You haven’t seen all of me.” “And I won’t. Not now. Not ever again. I hate you.” She turned to slip between the fence and hurry back home before he saw the mortification on her expression. “You have a funny way of showing it.” She whipped around, now pissed, and shoved her finger into his chest. “Don’t think for one minute that this little display of makeshift dominance has changed anything between us. You’re an asshole, Wyatt. An arrogant, selfish asshole. I wouldn’t take you now on a bet.” Surprise flashed in his eyes, if ever so briefly. Slowly, he reached up and wrapped his large, callused fingers around hers to stop her from punctuating any more of her words. He pulled her arm away and stepped toward her so that his mouth was only an inch from hers. “Is that so? I think you’re lying. You can’t stand not having all the control, can you?” Enough. She brought her free hand up to slap him across the face.

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He grabbed her wrist and thrust her against his chest. She struggled to push him back, but with both her wrists restrained, she couldn’t do much more than that. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you’re pissed? It’s one of about a million things I miss about you.” Damn him. Goddamn him. He had no right to be so charming. It melted her defenses and transformed her anger right back into heated lust. “Wyatt, you can’t play with me like this. One minute you’re telling me how much you want me, the next you’re pushing me away. And now you tell me how beautiful I am. I can’t deal with this.” “If you would have just told me what you wanted, you would have had it. You could still have it, baby. Just talk to me. Tell me what you want.” She couldn’t. She’d never been one to talk about her wants, her needs. Men flocked to her because of how she looked. She’d never had to say a word. Sure, she could tease a dick like any woman with the power to bat her eyes, but she’d never had to do anything more than smile. And now the one man she needed more than anything wanted her to tell him exactly what she wanted. She wished she could, but she just couldn’t. She’d never been able to express her wants. Lowering his shoulders, he stepped back and released her. “I want you, Trish. I’ve made that perfectly clear.” “I said the same thing.” He tilted his head and adjusted his hat. “I want to taste your sweet pussy and get drunk off your juice. I want you crazy with need, begging for me, before I let you come. I want to fuck you, have sex with you, make sweet love to you. All in the same night. Can you say the same?” She nodded. “I want that, too.” “In your own words,” he demanded. “Why can’t you just accept that I want you as badly as you want

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me? Why make me go into detail?” He lowered the brim of his hat over his eyes as he shook his head and turned. “I see we have our work cut out for us.” “Excuse me?” Where did he think he was going? “When you are ready to tell me what you want, you know where to find me.” “Wait! You can’t just leave me here.” Like this, shaking with need and desperate to have his hands back on her, his fingers deep in the depths of her cunt. “Let me know if you find that hole you need the pole in.” “Wyatt!” He waved as he walked to the lodge and disappeared inside, leaving Trish standing there, aching and in shock that he left her in need. He’d never done that. Until now. Round one went to Wyatt. She may have lost the battle, but she’d be damned before she lost the war. The man would pay for leaving her like that, and pay dearly.

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Chapter 3 “That was entertaining.” Wyatt growled as his pain in the ass of a little brother approached and tossed his gloves onto the workbench of the mudroom. “You didn’t need to watch.” Matt’s eyes shined as he badgered his brother. “If you didn’t want anyone to watch, then why did you put on a show?” One word. Control. Trish had it for the first twenty-eight years of their lives. It was high time he took it from her and showed her what being in control meant. He’d been young, naïve, willing to do anything just for a kiss on the cheek. No more. He knew what he wanted, and he sensed the same in her. She liked the control he had over her. Her body responded exactly as he’d hoped it would, her lovely cheeks flush with passion and her arousal obvious. It took every ounce of self-control to not throw everything aside and bury his cock deep into the depths of her pussy the minute he had her alone. But he had to teach her control. In order to do that, he had to show some. “That’s between Trish and me.” He pushed past Matt. Of course, Matt followed. “And everyone else who saw you. Don’t you know it’s bad manners to leave a woman in the state you left her in.” “She’ll live.” And she would learn. “Maybe I should pay her a visit and make sure she’s okay.” Wyatt whipped around and nailed Matt with a glare. “Do and I’ll break every goddamn bone in your body.”

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Matt simply smiled. “You got it bad.” “Shut up, Matt.” “What’s he got bad?” Michael walked into the den and adjusted his rimless glasses. Matt’s twin and the youngest of only a few minutes of the Gideon brothers, Michael Gideon had the same characteristics as the rest of them—deep indigo eyes, almost black hair, and built like a man who worked out on a ranch for a living. If it weren’t for his glasses and cleaner-cut hair, no one would be able to tell the difference between Michael and Matt. “Nothing,” Wyatt grumbled, wishing he were an only child. “Does this have anything to do with Trish being back?” Wyatt looked at Michael. “How long have you known?” “She’s been at the last two grange meetings.” He was going to kill his brother. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” Michael shrugged. “If you would have bothered to go to any of the meetings with the rest of the ranchers, you would have seen her there. Mitch Brown definitely noticed her.” Rage and jealousy exploded inside him. Of course Mitch Brown would take notice in her. Wyatt wasn’t there to rip his fucking eyes out of his head for ogling. “When’s the next meeting?” “Wednesday.” Wyatt set his jaw. “I’ll be there.” Michael and Matt exchanged grins. Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Who’s got the guest list for this weekend?” Barrett barked as he walked into the den. Michael turned on his iPad and adjusted his glasses. “It’s right here.” “Why can’t you use paper like everyone else? Why do you always have your nose in that useless contraption?” He pulled his iPad to his chest and cradled it, clearly offended at Barrett’s insult. “This contraption is how I keep track of our guest

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lists, control our finances, and contact vendors, among other things. This contraption keeps this ranch running.” Barrett put up his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were so sensitive over your little toy.” Michael grunted. “This is not a toy, Barrett.” “It looks like one.” “This is a powerful device that—” “You aren’t going to convince him,” Wyatt broke in to shut them all up. “Barrett doesn’t use computers. Period.” “I see no use for them in my line of work. A computer can’t feed the cattle. A computer can’t chase off the goddamn wolves from killing the calves. I do just fine on my ATV and with a good rifle on my back. Now let me see the list.” Hesitantly, Michael handed him the iPad. Barrett took it and squinted at the screen. Michael reached over and increased the size with a simple swipe of his finger. Barrett growled. “We aren’t at capacity.” “I’ve sent announcements out to all of the regulars,” Wyatt, the PR rep for GR&L, explained. “There just hasn’t been much of a response this time.” “Sarah said there’s been a decline in attendance at the Roadhouse as well.” Barrett shook his head. An idea popped into Wyatt’s head so fast he blurted it out before it even processed. “Then we have an open house.” The rest of the Gideons looked at him. He went on to explain as the idea formed in his brain. “Think about it. We’ve been sending invitations out to the same crowd for a while now. We need some new blood, but we can’t just announce to the world that we have weekend ménages and invite them to join.” Barrett narrowed his eyes at Wyatt. “What did you have in mind?” “We have an open house, offer specials, discounts, whatever. Maybe this is something some have thought of but didn’t want to commit to the entire weekend. Maybe they want to give it a try

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without paying the whole fee. Who knows?” Barrett, always Barrett, immediately dismissed Wyatt’s idea. “No way. That sounds like a perfect way to go broke. We can’t give the weekends away. If clients don’t pay, we don’t have a business.” “We have to get them here first. What do we have to lose?” “The ranch.” “Barrett, just think about it.” “I like the idea,” Matt announced. Barrett turned to Michael. “What do you think?” Michael looked at his twin, who nodded with a smile, before looking at Barrett. “We have to do something to bring up attendance.” “And you think giving away our services is the way to do that?” Wyatt started back in. “It’s one weekend, Barrett. One weekend is not going to break us. If we don’t bring attendance up, then that will break us.” Barrett sighed heavy and long. He brought his hands to his hips and gave Wyatt a curt nod. “Get it done.” Holy shit. Barrett actually gave Wyatt permission to carry through on one of his ideas. Wyatt nodded back and left the room before any of them could change his mind. As he walked up to his room to jump in the shower, the thoughts of his next steps played in his mind. He’d need help with the planning. It could be huge, but if he didn’t recruit someone to help him, it wouldn’t be much more than what they already offered. He immediately thought of Trish. Did she even know what the Gideons did here one weekend out of the month? Did she know that men and women came to the ranch, paired up, and had a no-strings ménage for the weekend? He hurried through the shower and toweled off. What if she hated it? Thought it immoral? She couldn’t even tell him what she wanted, though her needs were apparent in her body’s reaction to his touch. What made him think Trish would be open to something like not only taking one man, but two?

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His thoughts drifted to who Trish would want as the third in their relationship, and it wasn't too much of a stretch to guess who. Of course Mitch would be her first choice. In truth, he would be Wyatt's as well. With purpose, he dressed quickly and even combed his hair. As he jumped on his ATV to drive to Trish’s place, he thought of all of the ways he could approach the subject, but none of them sounded right. He’d just come out with it, he decided. There was no other way. **** Trish stared at her vibrator and debated whether to lie back on her bed and use it to release the tight coil of need before it snapped and she ended up hurting someone. Her grandpa was out. No one would interrupt her. She had all the time in the world since it was obvious that Wyatt wouldn’t be joining her. She lay back and clicked the vibrator on. It hummed in her hand, and her body, anticipating the attention, reacted by tightening her nipples. Her clit throbbed angrily, demanding that attention be directed on it. Running the vibrator along her nipples, she let out a soft moan and closed her eyes, imagining Wyatt’s fingers exploring her body instead of the toy. On a ridiculous, only-happens-in-dreams whim, she imagined Mitch there as well, sharing her with Wyatt. She traced her nipples with the tip of the vibrator and moaned again, this time a little louder. She wasn’t one to be very vocal during sex. Thinking of Wyatt, of his sheer dominance and overwhelming sexuality, had her pussy tingling as her juices coated her lips. If she would have just been vocal with him, told him what she wanted, he would have given it to her. She saw the dark hunger in his eyes. Her thoughts then drifted to Mitch. Sweet, safe Mitch. They'd played around a few times, but they'd never actually agreed to

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anything more than the here and now. Between them it was more of a physical need than anything else. Maybe she should have told him what she wanted, just as Wyatt had instructed. She wasn't an idiot. She knew what happened at the GR&L those weekends they had guests. The entire valley knew. Some had issue with it, but she was more curious than anything else. Would she be able to act out the one thing she'd wanted more than anything? She wanted Mitch and Wyatt. At the same time. She didn't want to have to choose. They were both her best friends. If only she could just tell them that. What better time to practice vocalizing her wants than alone with her trusty Battery-operated Boyfriend, BOB? “Please,” she whispered as she circled the toy around her diamond-filled navel. She dipped the vibrator lower, teasing her own pussy by denying the friction she desperately needed. “Oh, please. Eat my pussy. Make me scream.” “I thought you’d never ask.” Her eyes flew open, and she gasped when she saw Wyatt Gideon standing at the foot of her bed, that heated lust darkening his blue eyes. “How did you get in here?” She scrambled to grab something to cover herself up, mortified he’d caught her playing with herself. Clicking the toy off, she then dropped it on the bed. “Lay back down,” he ordered in a thick voice. “Answer my question.” His gaze traveled over her, leaving a trail of burning need. She panted, both in anger and ardent need, as she brought her gaze up to his. He captured her there and refused to let her pull away. “I knocked, but there was no answer. Now I see why.” She hid her gaze and pulled her knees up to her chest, humiliated as hell. She’d never be able to look him in the eye again. “Just go,” she whispered, on the verge of tears. “Do as I’ve instructed and hand me the toy.”

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“Wyatt, please. Don’t do this.” He leaned down on the bed and reached for her ankles, gently caressing them with his fingers. “Do you really want me to leave, Trish? Or would you rather let me do exactly what you asked?” She looked at him. “What?” “You asked me to eat your pussy.” He tugged on her ankles, and she allowed him to straighten her legs. He licked his lips as his gaze dropped from her face to her weeping, bare vagina. “You’re soaking wet, baby. Let me take care of that for you.” A shiver of incapacitating need weakened her defenses. He pulled her by the ankles and straightened her out on the bed while pushing himself between her legs. She shuddered when he took the toy and clicked it on. “Look at me, Trish. I want you to watch what I’m doing.” Heat hit her cheeks. She loved this dominant side of Wyatt but didn’t think she could do what he expected of her. She flicked her gaze up at him but then quickly closed her eyes. “Open your eyes, baby. Watch me.” “Wyatt, I can’t.” He ran the vibrator up the inside of her thigh. “You can’t? Or you won’t?” She squeezed her eyes to keep them shut. “Why do you want me to watch you?” “You need to see what you do to me. No one else in this world has the power to do what you do to me. Look at me, damn you.” Opening her eyes, she looked up into his, and seeing the undeniable need shining back at her destroyed her control. “I can’t stand not touching you, baby. I love the way your body responds to my touch. Your nipples are so tight. Your pussy is glistening with your sweet, sweet nectar. I’m dying for you, Trish.” Fire rushed through her body and liquefied her desire. She knew what he wanted her to do, to say. This time she would not let him leave her needing.

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“Please eat my pussy. Make me come.” “Oh, baby. That’s exactly what I wanted you to say.” He flattened out and spread her legs, running his tongue up the crest of her inner thigh. His fingers spread the soft folds of her wet pussy, exposing her clit to him. “So fucking beautiful.” He flicked his tongue across her aching clit, and she arched her back, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out. “There’s a time to be quiet, and a time to scream.” He ran his tongue along the inside of her pussy lips. “Now is not the time to be quiet, sweetheart. I want you to scream for me. I want the neighbors to hear when you come.” “You know I don’t do that,” she whimpered and arched her hips against his tongue. “There’s a wildcat inside you clawing to be released, Trish. I see that now, that hunger in your eyes. If you hold back on something as natural as coming, then what else are you holding back on?” She didn’t want to admit that he was right. It made sense, but she still refused to believe it. She didn’t hold back. She came just like any other woman. He continued to tease her with his tongue, running it along the edge of her lips and around her clit, but wouldn’t give her the contact she desperately needed. She weaved her fingers into his hair and tried to direct him, but it didn’t work. He spread her lips further with one hand and, with the other, sank two fingers into her soaking entrance. “Your clit is swollen, baby. You want to explode so bad. And I’m going to take you all the way this time. No walking away.” He leaned in and flicked her clit with his hot tongue. She sucked in a breath. “That’s my promise to you. I’ll never leave you wanting again. But you have to promise something to me in return.” “Anything,” she whispered, frantic for him to stop this torture. “Never hold back with me. Nothing makes me harder and need you more than to hear your cries. You have to give that to me.” She’d give him anything he wanted at this point, just so he would

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finish his assault and drive her over the edge. “I promise.” “That’s my girl,” he growled and went in for the kill, fucking her hole with his fingers as his tongue attacked her clit. She pushed against him and rocked her hips. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she cried out and fisted his hair. Where did he learn to do that? And then, while holding her clit captive, his tongue flicked relentlessly. His fingers stretched her, pulled out, and then inserted again, this time with the vibrator. Pleasure overwhelmed her and stole her sense of self-control. She whimpered and pleaded as she writhed. He was going to make her come. The coil twisted inside her, burning her, driving her closer. Whatever he was doing with his fingers, combined with her vibrator, had her on the verge of shattering. “Come for me, baby.” He twisted his fingers inside her and touched something that had her crying out. When he began to rub that spot inside her, gentle yet firm, she pumped her hips in time with his strokes. Her entire body sizzled as the impending orgasm grew to frightening heights. When it crashed, she’d pass out. Her skin hummed with goose bumps. So close. Oh, God. So close. He sucked her clit harder, faster, assaulting her pussy with rapid flicks while his wicked fingers rubbed her G-spot without mercy. She fisted his hair tight as the first wave of her orgasm slammed into her, splintering her into a million pieces. She screamed when another wave hit her hard and shattered her bones. Wave after wave crashed into her, beating her into a sated weakness and leaving her blood syrupy. Reality exploded around her as Wyatt refused to stop his attack. He pulled peak after peak from her, having her coming harder than she’d ever come in her life. When her soul finally floated back into her body, she collapsed on the bed, panting. He eased his fingers from her pussy and pulled back from her sensitive flesh. “There,” he said as he kissed her inner thigh and sent another

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spasm ripping through her. “See what a little communication will get you?” She couldn’t move. “Wow.” “That’s nothing.” He stood up off the bed and clicked off the vibrator. “You tell me what you want, and I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you, Trish. I promise you. In order to do that, you have to be open with me. Honest.” “Why is it so important to you that I tell you what I want?” She rolled over to her side and leaned her head up on her hand, her elbow bent. “You’ve always known what I wanted.” “Not true,” he explained and walked over to the door. “I’ve always known what I wanted. You’ve never told me what you wanted. I’ve just assumed. Well, no more. If you want me, you have to tell me.” “And if I don’t?” He looked at her, that burning dominance in his midnight blue gaze. “I’m not going to chase you this time, Trish. If you want anything from me, you have to tell me. No more assumptions.” She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “Wyatt, you know that’s not me.” “I think it is.” “You’re wrong.” He shrugged, but she saw the disappointment on his stilled expression. “Am I?” That did it. This man’s arrogance wasn’t nearly as charming after she’d been satisfied. She jumped off the bed and grabbed her robe, threw it on, and tied it in jerky motions. “We haven’t seen each other in ten years, Wyatt. We’ve both changed, so don’t pretend you know me. I don’t know where this new Wyatt came from, but I don’t like him.” He spiked his ebony brow and casually leaned against the door before crossing his arms in front of him, a mocking expression plastered on his destructively handsome face. “You didn’t seem to

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mind a few minutes ago when I had my face buried between your legs and made you come so hard you screamed.” “Out!” she demanded and charged him, ready to kick his ass. “Get out of my house before I—” “What?” He grabbed her arm as she swung it, fully intending to knock him out. With a thrust, he pulled her to him and crushed them together, his lips resting against hers. “What will you do to me if I refuse?” Not fair. His breath tickled her face as he nipped at her lower lip and sent a ripple of chills dancing across her skin. He reached up and touched her face, gently tracing his finger along her jaw, his gaze on hers. He brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. “What if I don’t want to leave?” “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” She thrust out her tongue and flicked it against his thumb. “Oh, but you can,” he groaned and delivered a series of kisses along her jaw and down her throat. “You don’t even realize the things you make me do against my will.” “Such as?” “Trish, I’m home,” Gramps called from the front of the house. “Trish? Are you here?” Wyatt pulled back and gave her a wink, sending a rip of chills racing up her spine. He grinned and opened her bedroom door. “Another time.” “No, wait.” She wanted to know, exactly, what he’d done that he didn’t want to. He had all the power, not her. “Get dressed. Meet me downstairs. I have a proposition for you.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “In front of Gramps?” “This is business,” he told her, that sexy dominance fading into the business side of Wyatt Gideon, PR rep for GR&L. Strictly professional but still sexy as sin. “And will you be able to separate business from pleasure?”

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That grin had the power to debilitate her. “Who said anything about separating the two?”

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Chapter 4 “Wyatt, it’s about damn time you paid a visit,” Ed Armstrong barked when he spotted Wyatt sitting at the kitchen table with Trish. “Hello, Ed.” “We’re neighbors, boy. Why is it I never see you unless there’s a set of pretty blue eyes here to lure you? You used to be here more than at your own house.” “That was because of the pretty blue eyes,” Wyatt answered and winked at Trish. “Among other things, I’m sure.” “Gramps,” Trish moaned. She really hated it when her grandpa did something to embarrass her, which was all the time. He thought it was funny as hell. At least he didn’t call her by the nickname he gave her when she was still in diapers. “Tell me I’m lying.” Ed collapsed into the remaining chair with a heavy sigh. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” And he looked it. Trish studied him and wondered when he got so old. His thick brown hair had long since turned gray and thinned to almost nothing. His intense brown eyes seemed so tired, the lids sagging with age. Her grandfather was always so stoic, the biggest man she knew. After her mom and grandmother died in a car accident that left her and Gramps alone, he’d taken her in and raised her as his own. She never expected him to grow old. Trish glanced down at her coffee cup, not wanting to think of her Gramps’s age right now. She needed to stay focused so as not to be distracted by the arrogantly handsome cowboy who brought her to a

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blinding orgasm not more than fifteen minutes ago. Her throat still hurt from how much she screamed as he feasted on her flesh. “Language, Gramps.” Trish remembered her grandmother always saying that to him and picked up on it, taking Grams’s place as the one to keep Gramps in line. She stood and fetched him a cup of coffee. “I’ll stop cussing when I’m dead.” He took a drink of his coffee and winced. “Grits, since you’re still up, grab your old gramps a beer, would you? I need something cold. It’s got to be a hundred degrees out there.” Trish closed her eyes as the heated embarrassment slapped her cheeks. She hated that nickname. He’d given it to her when she climbed up on his lap and drove the tractor on her own for the first time. “You’ve got the grits of a true cowboy,” he’d told her. The name stuck. “Sure,” she said and went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle, twisted the top off, and set it in front of Gramps before taking her seat. Maybe she should have a beer. God knows she needed something to ease her frazzled nerves. She was still reeling from the mind-blowing orgasm Wyatt delivered. Ed took a long pull off his beer and let out a loud belch. “Two weeks ago we were battling snow and rising waters. Now we are dealing with a heat wave. Leave it to Montana to give us all four seasons in less than a month.” “At least we finally got a summer starting,” Wyatt said. “I don’t remember ever having to wait this long to brand.” “Trish and I were talking about that the other day. I got me some missing calves, and without a brand on their hides, they are as good as gone.” Gramps turned his attention to Trish and added, “I have every right to pitch a fit.” Wyatt straightened at the news. “You’ve got calves missing, too?” Ed looked at him. “I was gonna pay you boys a visit later today to

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see if any of mine busted through the damn fence again. What the hell is up with that? Every damn day I’m finding more holes in the fence.” He took another drink of his beer. “Are you saying you’ve got some missing as well?” “About a dozen, according to Matt.” “Well, son of a bitch.” Ed pinched the skin between his aged eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day, but then again, with Dutch Barkus, I shouldn’t be surprised.” “About what?” Trish cupped her hand behind her neck and leaned on her elbow. “Someone’s stealing our calves,” Wyatt stated with a growl in his voice. “And I bet Barkus has something to do with it.” “Rustling? Are you saying he’s stealing our cattle?” Wyatt dropped one of his favorite cuss words. “Dutch has an army of lawyers on speed dial. He’s been looking for a way to get at the rest of us ever since he picked up that ranch in foreclosure. If he can’t get to us legally, I wouldn’t put it past him to do it illegally. You know he just bought the old Brickman ranch?” Ed shook his head and lowered his tired gaze. “I never thought Joe Brickman would sell off his family’s ranch.” “I don’t think he had a choice.” Wyatt stood and grabbed two beers from the fridge. “After that fire last summer wiped out his entire harvest, he had nothing left.” He sat back down and handed Trish one of the beers before opening his. “And the Petersons are probably the next to leave the valley.” “What do you mean?” Trish sat up straight. The Petersons had owned their ranch in the valley for as long as the rest of them. The ranching families in the valley all came together every year to brand the new calves. Wyatt and Mitch even reverted back to when they were best friends when they were branding. Now, with the Petersons gone, along with the Brickmans, that left Gramps, the Gideons, and Mitch Brown to brand all of the calves in the valley. What should take hours would now take days at the very

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least. Ed pinned her with his troubled brown eyes. “You’ll be inheriting this ranch once I’m gone. The Petersons are good folks, but they won’t be here come this time next year. You need to know who your enemies are.” He glanced at Wyatt and added, “And who to keep close.” A flutter of apprehension sent her heart into palpitations. “Go on.” “Dutch Barkus has been filing lawsuit after bullshit lawsuit to try and get us off our land, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna give in to his scare tactics.” “You aren’t the only one,” Wyatt pointed out, shaking his head. “Just this year he’s filed at least six lawsuits against the GR&L.” “He’s filed just as many against me,” Ed added. “The son of a bitch is lower than the mushrooms that grow on the shit out there in the fields. Fucking city dweller, thinks he can come in here and push us around.” He slammed his fist on the table, sloshing coffee out of the cups and nearly knocking over the beers. “I won’t stand for it!” “Gramps,” Trish said and rubbed his arm. This past year he’d gotten worse, which was why she’d returned to live with him. With his temper tantrums and his mind losing its lucidity, it worried her to have him live on his own. If he continued to deteriorate, Trish would have to start looking for a place for him to live. It broke her heart to think of him living anywhere but the ranch, but if he couldn’t care for himself, and was too much for her, she’d have no choice. Wyatt pulled out his cell. “I’ll have Matt pay Mitch Brown a visit.” Trish's pulsed picked up. This could be the chance she'd been waiting for, an excuse to get the two men together. She whipped around to face him. “You don’t think he had something to do with it. He hates Dutch as much as we do. Maybe we should go talk to him in person. You know, you and me, just the three of us.” She rolled her eyes. Could she possibly sound any more desperate?

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He looked at her and frowned before bringing the phone up to his ear. After several seconds, he said, "No answer. I guess I'll just head out there." Trish stood as well. No way would she let this opportunity pass her by. “I’m going with you.” He looked at her. “Seriously. The last time you two talked, Mitch ended up with a black eye, and you had a fat lip for a week. You need me between you two.” He stilled and really looked at her, pulling her into his spell with those hypnotic blue eyes. After stealing a glance at Gramps, who had already started a side conversation with himself about whether or not to have hot or cold sandwiches for dinner, Wyatt wiggled his brows at her and flashed a diabolical grin. Now that look was interesting. She tilted her head at him, not sure why he suddenly had a wicked twinkle in his eye but loving it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Let’s go. Ed, it was nice seeing you. I’ll bring Trish back later.” “Dinner is at five,” he announced. “If I don’t have her back in time, I’ll feed her.” Wyatt had a hunger in his tone that Trish picked up on, even though Gramps was oblivious to it. They left and jumped on his ATV, Trish straddling the seat behind him, her arms wrapped around him. She scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Drawing in a deep breath, she took in his heady scent. He always smelled so good, like a man should smell. Masculine. Mouthwatering. “About that proposition,” he started in a loud voice to talk over the engine he’d just fired off. He drove them to the back road all the neighboring ranchers used to get from field to field. “Do you know anything about planning a party?” She laughed at the question, remembering all the times she’d had parties at the ranch back in high school when her grandpa wasn’t

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home. “I know more about how to hide the fact that I had one.” “I seem to remember you being able to throw a pretty good party.” “I never got any complaints. Why?” “We’re throwing a party at the GR&L, and I need your help planning it.” “What kind of party?” Wyatt chuckled low and long. “One of a kind.” She’d heard of the couple’s retreats with a twist at the GR&L. She hadn't been home a week before the rumor mill sucked her in with that little tidbit. At first it shocked her, but then it intrigued her—especially the part about it being held by the Gideons. The thought of sharing her body with two men at the same time had her curious. Would she like it? Would the men take turns? It didn't matter. As long as she had Wyatt Gideon on one side and Mitch Brown on the other, she knew she'd love it no matter what they did. As kids the three of them did everything together. As adults, she wanted the same. She didn’t think of herself as naïve. Men shared women. Women shared men. Sometimes in the form of swinging, other times by cheating. She didn’t want to do either. If she ever shared herself with two men, it would have to be at the same time or not at all. “So tell me about this party.” They pulled up to the Brown ranch, and Wyatt shut off the ATV before hopping off and turning to her. “It’s going to be an open house of sorts.” “Does this have anything to do with those retreats you guys hold there?” He leaned forward and ran his hand along her shoulder. “Do you know what happens at our retreats?” She nodded, even though she really didn’t know the details. Besides, she didn’t need him to go into detail. Her imagination of what went on at the ranch already had her ready for round two with

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Wyatt and her vibrator. She hurried up the stairs of Mitch’s porch and knocked on the door. “It’s a beautiful June day. He’s not going to be inside.” Wyatt walked around the house and over to one of the outbuildings. “Mitch? Are you out here?” “Back here,” he called from behind the large red barn. Trish’s nerves hopped around like water on a hot griddle. Why would she be nervous? She’d talked to Mitch a million times. But the image of her flanked by two gorgeous Montana cowboys burned into her senses and refused to go away. “Hey, Mitch,” Wyatt greeted. “Hey.” Mitch panted as he tossed a bale of hay down and stood up straight. “What brings you by, Wyatt?” Trish’s mouth fell open. He had no shirt on, and his bronzed skin hugged a six-pack of abs and arms bulging with muscle. The sweat glistened on his skin and made him even more delectable. With brown hair and dancing hazel eyes, Mitch Brown had always rivaled Wyatt Gideon for that tender spot in her heart. Seeing him like this drummed up memories of her and Mitch together, his hard body covering hers as he drove into her over and over. Wyatt never knew of Mitch and her together after Wyatt had thrust his head so far up his ass he didn’t know whether he was coming or going. It scared the shit out of her to think of what his reaction would be if he ever found out. Mitch glanced at her and grinned. “Hey, Trish. You look as gorgeous as ever.” She smiled at his compliment. Had Wyatt even complimented her once since seeing her again? Well, except for him murmuring his appreciation of her body as he buried his face between her legs and feasted on her pussy. Wyatt cleared his throat and Mitch laughed. He knew how much it irritated Wyatt when he complimented Trish, which was why he did it, she was sure. Trish just shook her head. Men.

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“Listen, Mitch. We’ve got some calves missing. So does Ed. Have you seen them?” Mitch grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his head, pulling it down and covering the beautiful ripples of muscle. Too bad. A flash of anger fired off in his eyes. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Wyatt?” Trish stepped in between them. “He’s not accusing you of anything, Mitch. We just wanted to know if you’ve seen them.” He grunted, clearly not believing them. “The answer is no.” “Are you sure?” Mitch glared at Wyatt. “If I had your calves, I’d know. I can barely afford to feed the head I’ve got without supporting yours, too.” “When was the last time you pulled a count on your head?” Mitch raised his gaze up and squinted against the sun. “Not more than a month ago, so I’m good.” “Maybe you should take another count,” Wyatt said. “Yeah? With what help? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly swimming in ranch hands.” “Wyatt and his brothers can help.” Trish shrank back when Wyatt threw her a venomous look. “No thanks,” Mitch said and grunted as he hooked another bale to move it onto the trailer behind his tractor. “I’ve got enough to worry about right now. The cutter bar is busted on my combine again, and I can’t afford to get it fixed. We’ve got hay season coming up in a couple months, and I have no way of harvesting.” “Let me help,” Wyatt offered, shocking the shit out of Trish. “We’ve got the equipment and you could use the extra hands. Our fields don’t produce as well as yours. You’ve got a hell of a lot more flat areas than we do. We could take some of your harvest in payment. That will save us from having to buy alfalfa this winter.” Mitch stood back from the bales and looked at Wyatt as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Why would you help me? We don’t even like each other.”

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“Because we’re neighbors, and that’s what neighbors do.” “Since when?” Trish folded her arms up under her breasts and stomped her booted foot. “Damn it, Mitch. Quit being such a stubborn ass and just accept Wyatt’s help.” “And if I say no?” “Then you’re an even bigger idiot that I thought.” Wyatt grinned as he insulted Mitch. Mitch, on the other hand, doubled up his fists and took a step toward Wyatt. Oh no. Trish knew that look they both had in their eyes. They were about to try and kill each other for the umpteenth time. “What is the matter with you two? Mitch, take the offer. You really don’t have much of a choice.” Wyatt grinned triumphantly, but then lost it when Trish turned her wrath on him. “And don’t you stand there looking so smug. You don’t come to a man’s house and then insult him. What happened to you two? We all used to be best friends. Why do you hate each other now?” “Back then Wyatt wasn’t nearly as perverted as he is now.” Wyatt stiffened and glared at Mitch. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Mitch rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. You think it’s a big secret what you guys do at those retreats you have? Jesus Christ, Wyatt. You’ve got half the town ready to oust you and the other half ready to go all Big Love.” Wyatt set his jaw. “I take it you don’t approve.” “No, I don’t. It’s wrong. Guys sharing girls is all make-believe, something you only read about. It isn’t something you act on.” Trish felt the exact moment her fantasy of having both Wyatt and Mitch in her bed shattered. She closed her eyes against the disappointment. “Why not?” she whispered. When she realized she’d said that

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aloud, her eyes flew open, and she darted a nervous gaze back and forth between the men. Mitch narrowed his eyes at her. “What did you just say?” Trish couldn’t pull her attention away from him. Those eyes, hazel brown with flecks of green, held her hostage. He said one thing, but that look in those eyes said something entirely different. They’d darkened after her question, the pupils dilating in heated hunger. “The temptation is there,” Wyatt said. “Isn’t it?” Mitch flicked a puzzled glance his way. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” “It’s no secret how much you’ve wanted Trish all these years.” “But she’s always picked you over me,” he bit off. “What if she didn’t have to choose?” “What, like having us both?” Mitch laughed and shook his head. “In your dreams.” “No,” Wyatt corrected. “In her dreams.” Mitch looked at her and sighed. “Please tell me he’s wrong.” She lowered her gaze and bit down on her lower lip. “Sweet Jesus,” Mitch muttered. “He’s right, isn’t he?” She couldn’t stand his judgment. Did it make her such a bad person to want something more, something that she’d only dreamed about? Was that so wrong? “What the hell did you do to her, Wyatt?” “Fuck you, Mitch. I didn’t make her say what she said. That was all Trish.” “Yeah, but you are definitely encouraging it.” “Stop it! Both of you. What happened to you two? Why do you hate each other so much?” They both looked at her, and it clicked. “Me?” She darted a glance between them. Mitch nodded. Wyatt simply stood there staring at her with a stone-like expression on his arrogant face. Her shoulders sagged as the news really sank in. She turned to Mitch first, not able to face Wyatt at that moment.

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“Why, Mitch? Why hate Wyatt? He used to be your best friend.” “Used to be,” Mitch growled. “What changed, and so help me if you blame this on me I will end you both.” “You changed,” Wyatt said, and she turned to look at him, at those midnight blue eyes blazing back at her. “You changed from a girl to a woman overnight and drove us both fucking crazy, but you did nothing wrong.” “Ha!” Mitch bit off. She pulled her attention to him. “I did do something wrong?” “I’d say.” “What did I do?” “You fell in love with a Gideon.” He shook his head and grabbed the pitchfork to go back to stabbing the hay. He never scooped any up but he sure as hell did a good job at goring the hay at his feet. “I fell in love with you both,” she countered and sucked in a gasp when she realized what she’d said. He halted his assault on the hay and looked at her with those hazel eyes, a frown on his brow. “Could have fooled me from my end.” She’d always struggled with her decision. Being with Wyatt was both the best and worst times of her life. She’d never laughed or loved as hard—she also never cried so hard. Would she have been as equally happy and hurt with Mitch? “I don’t know what else to say.” “I say we are done here,” Wyatt barked and grabbed her arm to lead her away. “Don’t touch her like you own her.” Mitch threw the pitchfork down and took a threatening step toward Wyatt. “And I suppose you are going to do something about it?” “You’re goddamn right I am.” “What the fuck is your problem?” “You.” Mitch took another step. “You have always been my problem, Wyatt. You with your holier-than-thou attitude, walking

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around like you own the entire valley and charming your way into the lives of those you don’t even deserve to be around. You, breaking Trish’s heart every time you looked at her, and you know what? I’ve always been there for her. Always. Can you say the same?” “Hey, she’s the one who left me, remember?” “Because of you!” Mitch defended her, reiterating all the things she’d told him but never had the nerve to say to Wyatt’s face. It mortified her that he did this right now, but didn’t stop him from laying her heart out in front of Wyatt. If she didn’t have enough guts to tell him how she felt, at least Mitch did. “Jesus Christ, man. Are you that self-centered that you never did see just how much your actions affect others? And I’m not just talking about her. Look at us, right here, right now.” Wyatt threw his head back and laughed. “Whatever, Mitch. What the fuck did I ever do to you?” “You pushed her away, right into my arms. Just when she’d come to her senses about you, you’d ooze out some of that Gideon charm and hook her, and I’d disappear once again.” Wyatt shook his head as he snapped his dark brows into a frown. “Then why in the hell would you wait around to—” “Pick up the pieces every time you broke her heart?” Mitch cut in. “Because someone had to and I knew you wouldn’t man up enough to be there for her. That’s what makes you and me so different. You are that guy, the one the girls flock to thinking they can change him.” “And you are the guy the girls all love, but just as a friend.” Wyatt sneered. “How’s that working out for you?” “You have no idea how much I really want to kick your ass right now.” “So what’s stopping you?” “I am!” Trish cried out, utterly devastated at what she’d heard. Her two best friends in the entire world, the men she saw herself with for the rest of her life in one capacity or another hated each other because of her.

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Her eyes swelled with burning tears as her chin quivered. She fought against the thought of her being the reason for their hatred toward each other, but the evidence stood right in front of her. Mitch had his hands balled into fists, and Wyatt looked ready to kill. “Oh, God,” she whispered as the first of her tears fell. “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe this is all my fault.” “Don’t cry,” Mitch said and went to her side. He tenderly wiped at her tears. Wyatt moved to her other side and brushed her hair away from her face. “Trish, you didn’t do anything wrong.” “I always knew you two had this rival thing going, but I had no idea it was this bad. Well, I guess I kind of knew but…Oh, God.” “Why do you think I kicked his ass every time he looked at you?” Wyatt’s hand had moved down to her shoulder, her arm, her back. “You tried,” Mitch corrected and ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes as the tears burned trails down her cheeks. “Don’t hate each other, please. I can’t stand it. You two are my best friends.” “Baby, don’t cry. This is something between Mitch and me.” She opened her eyes and glared at Wyatt. “That’s where you’re wrong. This involves me just as much as the both of you.” “And why is that?” “Because I’m in the middle of it all.” she blinked at him as more of her tears streamed down her cheeks. “I did this and didn’t even know. I just wish I—” She stopped before making a complete fool of herself. No way could she tell them what she wanted—both of them at the same time. “You what?” Wyatt cupped his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer. “Tell me what you want, baby.” She pushed at his chest. “Oh, please don’t start that again.” Mitch took her hand and turned her to him. Those hazel eyes glittered with heated mischief. “I’m interested in hearing what you want, beautiful.”

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She frowned at him. “A minute ago you were degrading me for so much as speaking my mind, so don’t patronize me.” “I know what you want,” Wyatt said in a thick, husky voice. Mitch whipped his glare to Wyatt. “And that is?” “Us. You and me, buddy.” Don’t call me that. I am not your buddy.” “Mitch?” Trish whimpered. “Is he wrong? Please, Trish. Tell me Wyatt is wrong about this.” She remained silent as she stared at him. Wyatt stepped back as Mitch moved forward, his hand cupping her face while his other hand roamed over the curve of her hip. His gaze penetrated into her with laser precision. A shiver ripped through her body and coiled around her nipples, tightening them into hard little peaks. “Let me make sure I understand this. I can have you, but only if it’s with him?” Mitch leaned forward and licked his lips. “Look at her body, Mitch. See the way it responds to you. She wants you. Can you smell her arousal for you?” Mitch drew in a deep breath and buried his face into her neck. He ran his tongue along her throat. “Is this what you want, Trish? You want us both?” She swallowed thickly and nodded. “At the same time.” He pulled back and looked at her. His gaze then dropped to her breasts. Slowly, he reached up and brushed his thumb across her nipple before flicking his gaze up to her face to judge her reaction. She sucked in a breath and let her head fall back. Wyatt was there behind her, and she leaned up against him. “Again.” Mitch brought his other hand up and cupped both her breasts, pinching her nipples and drawing a moan from her. She reached behind her and weaved her hands in Wyatt’s hair. “Undo her shirt, Mitch.” Wyatt gave instructions, and Mitch carried them out. “Let out those beautiful breasts.” “Gotta love clasp-in-front bras,” Mitch murmured as, with a flick

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of his wrist, he had her bra open and the heat of the blistering afternoon caressed her nipples. And then so did Mitch. Oh, God. This was really happening. How many nights had she lain awake wondering what it would feel like having both Mitch and Wyatt touch her like lovers? She’d always hated the thought of having to choose between them. Now she didn’t have to. His mouth, so hot and moist, covered an aching nipple, and his tongue flicked, sending a rush of erotic pulses straight to her pussy, and drenching it. Her skin hummed, and she arched her back to him as she rested her head on Wyatt’s shoulder. Wyatt backed them over to the stack of hay bales and moved aside to rest Trish down on one. Mitch followed, his talented mouth traveling from one breast to the other. Mitch reached down and unzipped her cutoffs, and then slowly lowered them to her knees. He leaned back and studied her glistening, bare pussy as he licked his lips. “Very nice. When did you do that?” Wyatt stiffened and Trish felt the tension thicken between the men. Should she answer the question? Or should she stop the inevitable blow up from Wyatt? “What the hell?” The lust clouding Wyatt’s intense blue eyes lifted, replaced by cool anger. He bunched up his fists and glared at Mitch. “You’ve slept with her?” Mitch straightened away from Trish and squared his shoulders as he turned to face Wyatt. Trish quickly reset her clothes, fighting the disappointment threatening to flood her eyes with more tears. So close, yet so far away. What was she thinking by allowing Mitch to devour her breasts right in front of Wyatt? She should have known better. These two were like oil and water. They’d never get along well enough to share her. “It was a long time ago,” Trish explained as she struggled to regain her composure. “You and I had already broken up.” “Which time?” Wyatt asked.

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“Does it matter?” Mitch answered. Wyatt bounced his gaze between Trish and Mitch, the betrayal clearly evident. His expression hardened, and he shook his head as he turned away from them. “Wyatt, please.” He put his hand up, and she snapped her mouth closed. His shoulders rose and lowered as he labored his breathing, and Trish didn’t know whether to try and explain or take cover. “Real nice,” Mitch barked at Wyatt. “Look at you. Mr. Ménage. You were the one who started this. Did you suddenly grow a conscience?” “Shut up, Mitch.” Wyatt whipped around and nailed him with a murderous glare. “I’m with Mitch,” Trish said and thrust out her chin. She still hadn’t decided whether she liked this new dominant side of Wyatt or not, but she’d be damned before she let him or any other man judge her for her actions. Wyatt’s glare sliced into her. “Of course you are.” That did it. Her temper took over and drove her emotions, and her words. “Damn you, Wyatt Gideon. Just who do you think you are, judging me? I haven’t seen you in ten years. Ten years! And you stand there thinking you own me? That you have some right to be pissed at me for something that happened years ago? Well, I’m calling your bullshit.” With a few steps, he chopped up the distance between them and didn’t stop until his lips were only a mere few inches from hers. The heat from his breath, as well as his presence, melted into her, and she suppressed a shudder. “You think I’m bluffing?” “I know you are.” “Trish,” Mitch warned, but she ignored him. Instead she pushed her chin out even more as she challenged Wyatt. Something flashed in Wyatt’s penetrating blue gaze, something

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she couldn’t read. It was wicked, carnal, and had her ready to submit to him, which added to her growing irritation and arousal. And then Wyatt’s expression hardened further. “You don’t think it pisses me off that my girl has fucked the one man threatening to tear us apart since we were kids?” Her heart fluttered at his words. My girl? But then the rest of what he said sank him. He thought Mitch could tear them apart? She let out a long sigh. “Wyatt, it was five years ago. I came back to stay with Gramps until he was back on his feet after his heart surgery. It just happened.” She glanced over at Mitch, who had an equally hard look in his face. “Well, congratulations.” Wyatt stepped back and nodded at Mitch. “You win.” Mitch frowned at him as Trish’s heart seized. What the hell did that mean? “Come again?” Mitch asked. Wyatt kept his gaze locked on Trish. “I already told you that I’m not going to chase you this time.” And then he did the one thing he promised he’d never do again. He walked away.

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Chapter 5 “You’re an idiot. She was right there and you blew it.” Mitch belittled himself as he grabbed a beer out of his cooler and sat down underneath the tree on the only hill of his property. It gave him the perfect view to watch the Armstrong ranch for a glimpse of a pretty blonde with hypnotic blue eyes. Mitch knew it was a mistake to touch her the minute he saw the lust in Trish’s beautiful blue eyes. She’d never looked at him like that before, with such heat darkening her gaze, and it destroyed his control. The fact Wyatt had been there, encouraging Mitch, Trish giving in to his every word, should have made him hate the cocky son of a bitch. Instead it made him harder than a fucking rock, the lust biting into his balls. He should have walked away. He should have at least told them no. He should have done something—anything—to stop himself from touching her. And now, goddamn it, he couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her buttery skin. The sight of that pretty pink pussy, not a hair on it, just about drove him insane with hungry need. He turned and glanced off to his left, catching the GR&L in his view. Wyatt paced outside the lodge, clearly agitated, as he talked with Barrett and Chris. Mitch shook his head. He’d heard that Barrett and his cousin had taken a single woman as their wife. Who could do that? Sharing a single woman with another for the rest of his days? It wasn’t right. But, then again, wasn’t that exactly what Wyatt had proposed? Mitch could definitely see himself with Trish ’til death did them part.

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Did Wyatt feel the same way about her? Ah, hell. Of course he did. Wyatt had been following Trish around like a dick in heat for years. And, for as many years, Trish had always picked Wyatt over Mitch. He took a swig of his beer and sighed. As wrong as it was, Mitch hadn’t thought the idea crazy. He’d always wanted Trish. Wyatt had always wanted Trish. And, obviously, Trish wanted them both. Leaning back against the tree, he watched Wyatt stop and hold his arms out at the sides. Chris shook his head and walked back inside the lodge, but Barrett stayed behind. Just what were they talking about? Barrett then said something and threw his hands up at Wyatt before turning and walking back inside the lodge. Wyatt, still clearly pissed, finally followed them. Mitch was about to turn his attention to the Armstrong ranch when one of the twins walked out of the lodge, a woman in a nice suit following him, holding his hand. Mitch couldn’t tell whether it was Matt or Michael. The man’s hat covered the upper part of his face. The woman pulled the Gideon’s hat off and tossed it aside. No glasses. Longer hair. Definitely Matt. She then combed her fingers into his black locks and pulled him to her. Matt wrapped his arms around her and held her close. And then it got really interesting. Matt dropped to his knees and pushed the woman’s skirt up, revealing a shapely ass and nice thighs. Wow, a G-string. Mitch wouldn’t have figured a woman dressed like that would have on anything sexy beneath the professional exterior. The woman let her head fall back, and the moan she released when Matt disappeared between her legs echoed through the valley. Mitch leaned forward and narrowed his gaze as he watched. “Anything interesting?” He spilled his beer all over the front of him in shock as the shedevil herself appeared out of nowhere. Heat smacked his cheeks when she glanced down at the GR&L and saw what had his attention.

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“What the hell are you doing here?” He turned so his back was to the GR&L in the hopes to play down the fact that he’d been spying on Matt and his little girlfriend. It didn’t work. Trish sank down next to him and took his beer. She threw back a long drink and closed her eyes as she let out a long breath. “That’s good.” She then opened her eyes and turned her attention to the GR&L. “I see Carol is back.” “Carol?” How in the hell did she know the woman’s name? “Michael has been bending my ear about how Matt’s ignoring everything, including his own twin, ever since Carol visited the ranch this past winter. It was the same weekend Barrett and Chris met Sarah.” “You seem to know a lot about what goes on at the GR&L.” Trish shrugged and damn if he didn’t find the gesture sexy for whatever reason. She took another drink of his beer. Knowing he wouldn’t get it back, he reached into the cooler and grabbed another. “You think you’re the only one curious?” Her large blue eyes had once more focused on Matt and Carol. Mitch turned and almost spilled his beer again. Carol now had Matt on his back, her pussy in his face, her mouth covering his cock. Their feverous pace had Mitch close to panting. “Curious about what?” “Don’t bullshit me,” she told him. “You know what they do there just as well as I do. Hell, we were about to get into one ourselves.” Were they? Would he have let it go that far? “They have weekend ménages, Trish. Committed couples come to the GR&L and pick a third, but they aren’t in permanent ménage relationships." “Chris, Barrett, and Sarah are. From what Michael tells me, they seem happy.” “Seem being the opportune word here.” He picked at the label on his beer.

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“What do you have against happiness?” “Not a damn thing.” But not at the cost of tradition. A man should be with one woman, and a woman should be with one man. Period and the end. “Let me ask you a question.” He drew in a breath and held it, contemplating his words. Not finding any other way to say it, he just said what was on his mind. “Do you really buy in to all of the shit Wyatt is feeding you?” Her sexy shoulders visibly sagged. “Why do you think it’s shit?” “Two guys? One girl? Come on, Trish. You know that’s not how it works.” “No, I don’t.” She flashed those brilliant eyes at him. “And neither do you.” He frowned. “You can’t be serious.” “And what if I am?” Shaking his head, he glanced over to see Carol now straddling Matt, their hips joined, her slowly moving back and forth, riding him right out there in the open. Unbelievable. “Wyatt must really have something over you. No other way would you have so much as thought about a threesome, let alone wanted to act on it.” She drank the rest of her beer and tossed the empty into the cooler. “As I recall, you didn’t do much in the way of a protest.” No, that he didn’t. He hung his head and nodded once. “What can I say? You have me ready to drop to my knees and beg, Trish. I can’t help it. I’ve always wanted you. Dangling something like that in front of me is dangerous.” “Why?” He looked at her. “Because you know just as well as I do that once we started something between the three of us, someone would end up getting hurt. Wyatt is an arrogant prick, and I’m not that far behind him. We are both way too possessive to share you. It would never last.”

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She visibly swallowed and let out a sigh that filled the air with the disappointment she clearly felt. “I guess I just wanted something more for once. All my life I’ve compromised. Just once I wanted it all.” Mitch reached over and cupped her face with his hand, holding her attention to him. “Sweetheart, you can have anything you want and you know it.” “What if I want you both?” He pulled back with a snap and a frown. “I can’t do that. I can’t share you.” Mitch turned back to Matt and Carol. Carol made a loud moan as she quickened her pace, rocking faster and faster. Her moans turned to cries as she fell forward and held on to Matt’s chest. He rocked his hips and fucked her hard, pulling her knees up off the ground. She then threw her head back and screamed. Matt stiffened and hollered out her name. And then they fell silent and still. “Well, that was interesting.” Mitch tried to lighten the tension between them. “To say the least.” “What should we do now?” He looked at her. She lifted a single brow as her response. “Trish?” His heart compressed in his chest. Did that look mean what he thought it meant? As an answer to his question, she leaned over and brushed her soft lips against his. When she pulled back, she blinked up at him with those mesmerizing eyes. He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her to him once again. Slanting his lips over hers, he then tested her further by licking her mouth open with his tongue and went exploring. His fingers tangled in her hair and fisted, holding her to him. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered against her lips. “You taste like summer, Trish.” “What does summer taste like?”

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He nipped at her lips with every word. “Hot. Exciting. Charged.” “Tempting?” She darted out her tongue and licked at his lower lip, sending a surge of lust through him and bubbling in his balls. “Hell, yeah.” “Would you be willing to give it a try? Just once?” He released her hair and pulled back, shaking his head. She just wouldn’t let it go. “What are you scared of?” Trish started back in. He knew, but he’d be damned if he admitted it. “I want you to be happy, but not at the risk of my own happiness.” “How do you know you wouldn’t be happy?” “I just know.” “No,” she challenged and narrowed her gaze into a glare. “You don’t know. You are just too scared to take the chance of the unknown.” “Let it go, Trish!” he growled, his control snapping. “What is the matter with you? Are you so fucking horny for us that you are willing to share your bed with two guys just to get what you want?” She dropped her jaw and melted back against the tree. And, goddamn it, her pretty eyes swelled with tears. Shit. Shit. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” “You son of a bitch,” she said and jumped to her feet. Her chin quivered as she turned to him and those damn large tears streamed down her cheeks, burning into him and tearing him apart. “Please, just sit. Trish, don’t leave. I—” He stopped and drew in a ragged breath, knowing what she needed to hear. For her, he’d be willing to do anything, even share her with Wyatt. “If I’m going to even think about sharing you with the likes of a Gideon, I’m going to need a hell of a lot of convincing that this isn’t just a temporary thing.” She stiffened and blinked at him, releasing the last of her tears, a stunned look on her face. “Like what?” He stood as well and took her hand to pull her to him. He then

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reached up and stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Like no secret rendezvous with Wyatt and vice versa. Sharing you is hard enough. Not being able to trust that you will share us equally would kill me.” “Mitch, I would never do that.” He spiked his brow. Judging by the way Wyatt reacted at the news that Mitch and Trish slept together five years ago, he already had his possessive claws into her. No doubt about it, Wyatt had a reason behind his jealousy. “Okay, fine.” She rolled those pretty eyes. “But it was just one time.” He looked at her. “Okay, two times. But that’s it. If we do this, I promise that I’ll only be with Wyatt or with you when we are together. No more duos. It’s trios from here on out.”

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Chapter 6 Wyatt rattled off another round of curses as he thought about Trish’s betrayal. Despite the bullshit logic both Barrett and Chris tried to drill into him, it still pissed him off that she’d slept with Mitch. How could she do that to him? “You’re being ridiculous,” Chris said without looking up from the papers in his hand. “You’re being an asshole,” Wyatt countered viciously. “And I suppose you’ve never slept with anyone else other than Trish, right?” Wyatt thinned his lips and set his jaw. “Your silence answers that question.” “But it was Mitch Brown of all people. Mitch! She knows how I feel about him.” Chris finally set the papers down on the table next to him. “Do you even listen to the shit falling from your lips? Maybe, just maybe, she slept with Mitch because she wanted to, not because she knew you didn’t like him.” It didn’t matter the reason why. It was the fact that she’d slept with him at all. He collapsed into one of the chairs in the den and let out a long groan. “What’s wrong with you?” Michael asked as he walked into the den and saw the state Wyatt was in. Chris picked the papers up and answered, “He’s being a big baby.” “Screw you.” Wyatt closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Let me guess,” Michael said and adjusted his glasses. “Trish did

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something to piss you off. The only time Wyatt ever gets this wound up is over that woman.” Wyatt groaned again. Chris spoke up. “He’s just mad because Trish has a life outside of Wyatt’s little world.” “This wouldn’t have anything to do with why Mitch Brown is sitting in the bar, would it? Actually, I think they are both in there.” Wyatt jumped out of the chair and had made it halfway across the room before his booted feet touched the ground. “What the hell? We have guests coming in tonight.” “That’s why I came to get you. He’s made it no secret that he doesn’t approve of our retreats. He could be a problem.” “Do you need any help?” Chris hollered out after Wyatt. “I got it.” He walked across the main room and down the small hall that opened up into the bar where the Gideons held the meet and greets. Mitch stood there looking at all the pictures that lined the log walls, but that wasn’t what had Wyatt skidding to a stop. Trish stood a few feet from him. When Wyatt cautiously approached, she whipped around and captured him with that beautiful blue gaze. “What are you doing here?” Mitch turned and nailed Wyatt with a cool look. “We need to talk.” Wyatt glanced to Trish, who had an interesting look on her pretty face. “What can I do for you? And this had better be quick. We have guests arriving soon.” Trish’s expression lit up. “That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about.” Why would either one of them want to talk about the GR&L’s guest list? They weren’t on it, and Wyatt doubted they’d be willing to pay the fee required to be on it. “How do these ménages work?” Mitch asked, clearly agitated. “Do I really have to explain it? Insert tab A into slot B. That pretty

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much sums it up.” His gaze flicked to Trish, who’d grown flush. Interesting. “Although with some trios there are two tab As and it’s a hell of a lot of fun exploring all the slot Bs.” Trish visibly shuddered and blew out a breath. Could they be serious? He ignored the jump in his heart rate. They could just be curious and nothing more. The GR&L had at least one person every retreat convinced he or she had made a mistake by giving in to his or her curiosity. Each and every time one of the Gideons convinced the person otherwise. Trish, he knew, was more than willing to take both men to her bed. Mitch, on the other hand, didn’t look all that comfortable to be at the GR&L. “I want to set a few ground rules,” Mitch said, his voice rough and terse as he spoke. Wyatt laughed and looked at him. No one, not man or woman, set rules with him. As the Dom, Wyatt set the rules, period. Mitch glared at his reaction, and Wyatt tucked his amusement away. This ought to be good. “Go on.” Mitch nodded. “First, if we do this, there is no manlove, got it? We are one hundred percent about Trish and only Trish.” “You can’t even call it what it is. Ménage, Mitch. Just say it. Hell, if that word makes you uncomfortable, there’s several others to choose from. Trio. Partnership. Relations. Sexual congress. Come on, man. It’s not that hard.” “You son of a bitch.” He shook his head and turned to Trish. “I told you this wasn’t going to work.” “Wyatt, please.” Trish pleaded at him with those enormous blue eyes, and his heart melted. Damn it. Just having her look at him like that and he barely restrained the want to take her in his arms and kiss her until they both ran out of air. His cock tightened in his jeans, and he reached down to adjust himself. Trish watched the gesture closely and even licked her luscious lips as her gaze rested on his crotch. Of course it woke his dick up the rest

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of the way, and he hardened before her very eyes. “I know you want this, Trish.” Mitch combed his hands through his hair. “But I don’t think I can.” The disappointment that flashed in Trish’s eyes almost destroyed Wyatt. That light shining in her gaze faded. Not just no, but fuck no. No way would he let that light die away. It was one of about a million things Wyatt loved about her. They weren’t at full capacity for the weekend, so the Gideons wouldn’t be out any money if Wyatt invited Trish and Mitch to stay the weekend. It would give them all a chance to get a feel for their trio and see if it had any staying power. “The meet and greet is in two hours. There is a dress code.” Wyatt walked over to the bar and grabbed two brochures from the counter, and then moved to hand them to his guests. “You dress in all black if you have no ties and want nothing more than to participate in a nostrings-attached ménage for the weekend.” Trish looked down at the brochure in her hands. “And what if I want more?” Wyatt turned to Mitch. “What about you? Do you want more than that?” “I don’t even know if I want that.” Fuck this. He’d find another third party. Mitch couldn’t be trusted. Hell, he couldn’t even call it what it was—a ménage. “This isn’t going to work,” Wyatt snapped and tried to yank the brochure out of Mitch’s hands. The quick son of a bitch caught it between his thumb and finger and jerked it back. “Just give me a second to think about it.” Jesus and Christ. Was he kidding? He had a beautiful morsel like Trish Armstrong willing to take him to her bed, and he had to think about it? Wyatt was about to tell Mitch to get the hell out when he looked at Trish and the wind deflated from his lungs. She watched both men with hazy lust darkening and clouding her gaze. Women only looked

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at men like that when they were close to the edge of their comfort zone, willing to submit to anything and everything, just for a taste of a life outside of their world. What the hell. It worked before. Just maybe… “Come here,” he ordered. Trish hurried to him without hesitation. “Turn around and look at Mitch. Do not take your eyes off him. If you do, you will be punished. Is that understood?” She shuddered and whispered, “Yes.” Wyatt reached around and unfastened her cutoffs. He then slowly pushed the jean material down her shapely thighs before doing the same with her G-string. “What if someone walks in?” She trembled in his touch. Wyatt ignored her question. “You will be allowed to speak only as it pertains to your pleasure. There is always a safe word when we play. If you want me to stop, you will say the word ‘jellyfish’.” “Give me a break, Wyatt. I’m not some sub.” “Oh, but you are willing to dip your toes into the lifestyle, aren’t you? You know I’m a Dom—your Dom—and you will submit to me.” “And if I challenge you?” “All the more fun, don’t you think? Being your Dom isn’t all about control, baby. It’s about pleasure. You want to feel good, don't you?” She nodded but remained silent, her voice lodged behind the lump in her throat. “Here at GR&L we don’t follow the strict rules of BDSM. We make our own. Are you ready to write your own rules, beautiful?” She let out a long breath. “Yes.” Wyatt ran his hand along her hip as he delivered moist kisses on her neck. He stole a glance at Mitch to see him standing there, his mouth open, his expression dark and hungry. “I want you to dip your finger between those pretty bare lips. Feel your juices weeping from your pussy. Come on, baby. Don’t back out

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on me now.” “Wyatt, I—” She stopped when he grabbed her hand and directed it down between her legs. She moaned and leaned back against him when he pushed her finger between her wet pussy lips and found her clit. With one stroke he felt her taking over and pulled back. “That’s it, Trish. Touch yourself. Watch Mitch as you finger-fuck yourself into the first of many orgasms between us.” “What should I be doing?” Mitch asked. “Watching. She’s a beautiful sight, isn’t she?” Mitch nodded and licked his lips, his attention one hundred percent focused on Trish. Wyatt spotted the enormous bulge between Mitch’s legs and grinned. So far, so good. “How does that feel, baby?” Wyatt ran his hands up and down the curve of her ass. “Mmm.” She let her head fall back. “Ah, ah, ah. Head up, Trish. You are not to lose eye contact with Mitch. That was your only warning.” “Look right at me,” Mitch groaned in a thick voice. “That’s it. Let me see the look in your eyes when you come.” “Oh!” Trish stiffened when Wyatt snuck a finger between her perfect ass cheeks and teased her tiny hole. The more he played the faster her pace. “Do you like that?” “Yes,” she whispered. She rocked her hips against her own finger, and Wyatt took the opportunity to allow her to push back against his finger. Dipping his finger into her cunt to use her own juices as lubrication, he then spread the sweet cream all along her back hole. Trish rocked faster, harder, and Wyatt knew she had to be close. “Do you want to come, baby?” “Oh, God. Yes.” “Keep going.” Wyatt pushed his finger ever so slowly into her

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back entrance, and Trish cried out as she lost her rhythm from the shock. “Don’t stop now. You are too close. You want to shatter, don’t you?” “More than anything.” “Come for us, Trish. Use your own power to make your body explode right before our eyes.” He steadily moved his finger in and out of her ass as he spoke. Trish bucked and whimpered. Her fingers rotated faster and faster. Wyatt felt her muscles start to convulse and slipped a second finger into her backside. Trish arched her back and bit her lip as her orgasm slammed into her. She continued to rock, fucking her fingers and riding out her climax as Wyatt pumped in and out of her ass to keep her release at its peak. When Trish collapsed against Wyatt and slowly pulled her fingers out from between her legs, he looked at Mitch. “Are you thirsty?” Mitch darted his heated gaze to Trish’s glistening pussy. “Absolutely.” “I think our girl would appreciate a bath.” “I won’t be able to stand up,” Trish whimpered in protest when Mitch dove between her legs. “Oh, God!” “I’ll hold you up.” Wyatt nuzzled against her neck and pinched at her nipples as Mitch feasted on her cunt. “Dear God, Trish. You taste like the sweetest honey.” Mitch ate her pussy with fervor, his sharp tongue whipping back and forth against Trish’s glistening pussy, putting on a show worthy of porn. “How does that feel, baby? Do you like having Mitch sucking up your juices?” “He’s going to make more if he keeps doing that. Ah!” She weaved her fingers into Mitch’s hair and rolled her hips back and forth against his tongue. “Make her come again, Mitch. Let her know how much you want her and taste what you do to her.”

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“Oh, God. Mitch! No. Yes. No. Yes. Oh, God!” She arched and cried out. “Sweet Jesus, have mercy,” Mitch muttered as he slurped up her juices. “Better than I could have ever imagined. That’s it, baby. Keep that juice coming.” Soon Trish’s shudders subsided, and Mitch’s licks slowed. He pushed back and stood, wiping off his chin. Gently, Wyatt lifted Trish’s G-string and cutoffs back into place. “That was…” Trish shuddered again. “Pretty fucking amazing,” Mitch finished for her, his comment shocking the shit out of Wyatt. No, not the comment. Eating Trish’s pussy really was pretty fucking amazing. It was the action that shocked him. He never expected Mitch Brown to agree to feast on her flesh with the three of them together. Mitch cleared his throat. “The meet and greet is in two hours?” Wyatt nodded. “I’ll be there.” Both men turned to Trish and waited for her answer. She glanced between them before curling her sexy lips into a grin that would have any man ready to drop to his knees. “Can’t wait to see what comes next.”

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Chapter 7 “Any questions?” Wyatt placed the black cowboy hat on his head before turning to Mitch, who sat in a chair off to the corner, dressed in the appropriate matching black attire, hat and all. Mitch didn’t seem all too pleased at the conditions, but gave Wyatt a single nod in agreement. “Good.” “Wait,” Mitch said and stood when Wyatt opened the door to walk out of his room and down the stairs. He turned to Mitch, annoyed that the man continued to stall. Trish was waiting for them, he had no doubt. She appeared so damned anxious to be claimed by them both that she’d be down at the meet and greet hours in advance. “What?” “Who gets which part?” He looked nervous enough to pass out. Running his hands through his brown hair over and over, he continued to rock back and forth, clearly agitated. “Let’s just go with it,” Wyatt said, trying to keep his voice light even though he wanted to wring Mitch’s fucking neck. Why put so much thought into it? It was Trish, for Christ’s sake. She wanted them both. What else did he need to know? Mitch fell back into the chair, and Wyatt let out a sigh as he closed the door once again. He forced a smile as he asked, “What is it?” “What if we do this and she, you know, goes for one?” Mitch wouldn’t look at him, but he didn’t have to. Wyatt knew exactly what he meant. As much as he didn’t like the man, they were

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about to enter into a ménage together with the woman they both loved. Whether he liked him or not, he had to find a way to work with him. His fear that Trish would choose one over the other was very real. It happened all the time. Wyatt feared the same thing, in all reality, and hated to admit it. “It takes a lot of guts for her to stand up for what she wants,” he explained, having had this conversation countless times with partners that had come to the range and then one or the other of the duo chickens out. Funny, it was always the man to back out, never the woman. “I know, but…” He paused and covered his face with his hat. “Jesus Christ, Wyatt. We don’t even like each other, and now we are about to both take Trish. At the same fucking time. Ugh, my guts are killing me.” He wanted to shake him and tell him to get a grip, but knew that would drive him right out the front door. Instead, Wyatt bit back his retort and said what Mitch needed to hear. “You’re just nervous, and you should be. It’s a good thing.” “How can you be so calm? Oh, I forgot. This is pretty much a daily thing for you.” The son of a bitch. Fuck it. Wyatt could still find another person, one he liked better. Hell, a perfect stranger would be more compatible. “If you are thinking of backing out, there’s the door.” Mitch shook his head and pushed his hat back on his head. “And let you have Trish to yourself, no way.” “Then pull your head out of your ass and get it together, man. With you this nervous, you’re lucky to get a hard-on. Then again, if you can’t perform, you could always watch as the master takes his sub.” He grinned. Mitch didn’t find his comment amusing. He rose and glared at Wyatt. “In your fucking dreams.” Wyatt grabbed the gems off his dresser and tossed one to Mitch. “What are these for?”

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“Claiming the prize,” he said with a wiggle of his ebony brow. “You pin it anywhere visible to claim your partner. Ready?” Mitch gave him a single nod, but lost what little color he had and looked ready to pass out. “As I’ll ever be.” Wyatt hid his amusement as he opened the door to take Mitch downstairs and into a lifestyle of temptation. **** Why didn’t she wear the other black dress? This one made her butt look big and barely covered her boobs. But, then again, the men she wanted to claim her, they’d already seen her naked, so it didn’t matter. She could have worn a nun’s habit and they’d still claim her. At least they’d better. She glanced up at the clock in the kitchen and sighed. She still had another hour before the meet and greet. She never thought she’d be attending one of GR&L’s retreats—and by invitation, too. “Where are you going looking all gussied up?” Gramps walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a beer. She saw no need to lie. “I’m heading over to the GR&L.” Gramps spit out his beer. “Are you shitting me? Do you know what goes on there?” She most certainly did and couldn’t wait to be a part of it. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl, Gramps.” “Even big girls have a heart. You be careful. Those weekend manage a tree things are a temporary fix.” He knew what went on there? “What do you mean temporary?” “Oh, sure. It may spice things up for a bit, but eventually the reason people go to the ranch will come back, and then where will you be? Believe me, if you are doing this to have your cake and eat it, too, you’re gonna get hurt.” Gramps’s dementia may have everyone worried, but at times he spoke like he had all the answers. She swallowed back the emotions

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of the realization that his lucid moments were getting further and further apart. Walking over to him, her heels clicking against the linoleum of the kitchen floor, she then kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind. I love you, Gramps.” He smiled as his eyes misted. With a pat of his wrinkled hand on her arm, he said, “You’re a good girl, Grits. Your mom would be proud of how you turned out. You are the only good thing that ever came out of that waste-of-skin sperm donor she was with.” She offered him a smile and lowered her gaze beneath her lashes. “It’s getting hard to remember what my mom looked like.” “Look in the mirror, baby. You are every bit as beautiful as she was, and she looked just like her mother. It’s the blue eyes. Men have a weakness for big blue eyes.” He gave her a wink. “Was it love at first sight with you and Grams?” “You bet your ass. She couldn’t resist that Armstrong charm.” And now she was gone, along with her daughter. In one split second, fate ripped Barbara and Tami Armstrong from this life without notice, leaving Trish and Gramps alone. It wasn’t fair. Trish sucked in a quick breath before she let a tear fall and it ruined her makeup she so carefully applied for tonight’s meet and greet. “What time do you have to get to your little party?” She glanced up at the wall clock, and her heart flipped. She still had to find something to do for forty-five minutes. “I’ve got a lot of time. Do you want to play some cards?” He shook his head. “Let me let you in on a little secret. Them guests they get at the GR&L arrive early. I bet if you head over there right now, you wouldn’t be the first one there.” Her heart slammed in her chest, and the beat thudded in her ears as her spine straightened. “You think so?” Laughing, he pulled her into a hug. “You’re my daughter, Tami. Go have fun. I’m going to watch some TV and fall asleep in my chair.” She closed her eyes and fought the tears, but didn’t correct him

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when he called her by her mother’s name. He’d been doing that more and more lately. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” “Of course. Don’t you worry about me. Now go before I change my mind and make you go clean your room.” “Right. Have a good night, Gramps.” She walked to the back door and turned to see him with a frown on his face at what she’d called him. It broke her heart to see him so confused. He smiled and waved as she walked out, but she could tell he still didn’t understand why she’d called him Gramps. In his mind, she was Tami Armstrong, the woman who’d gotten pregnant as a teen and had a single child before the car accident took the lives of her and her mother. She couldn’t focus on that right now. Her mother and grandmother had been gone for over twenty years now. Tonight she had to focus on other worries. Like taking both Wyatt and Mitch at the same time. Would they take turns? Take her at the same time? Having Wyatt play with her ass while she fingered herself into an orgasm nearly drove her insane. What would it be like if he took her anally while Mitch fucked her pussy? Was that even physically possible? Tonight she wanted to find out. If she snuck through the back of her field and through the fence, she’d make it to the GR&L faster. Her heels sank into the grass, and she kept getting stuck. Rolling her eyes in irritation, she finally just removed her shoes and walked the rest of the way in her bare feet. She’d never had the need for nylons. Her legs tanned to a bronze in the summer and looked better than any tan nylons. She rounded the corner after shuffling through the opening in the fence and dropped her jaw. People were already on the back deck, drinks in hand, laughing and conversing. Trish slowed as her jaw dropped. They were all wearing black, meaning they were all there for nothing more than a weekend ménage. She had no idea so many knew

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about the ranch. Some already had beautiful adornments pinned to their collars. She’d have to ask Wyatt what that meant. Gems of every color sparkled in the subtle light the Gideons had up, no doubt for ambiance. It did a shitty job for anything else. She walked onto the deck in her bare feet and smiled at those who glanced her way. Wow. It was crowded. She weaved through singles, duos, and even trios as they all got better acquainted. Why were they all here so early? Wyatt said the meet and greet didn’t start for another half an hour. A giggle caught her attention, and she turned to see a woman having her breasts devoured by a man, but that wasn’t what held Trish’s focus. Another man was buried between her legs, her skirt up around her hips as he feasted on her pussy. Right there in the open. “Oh!” Another sound pulled Trish’s attention away, this time to a woman out in the yard, her back up against a tree. A man on either side of her, they each clearly had an agenda. Her. One man lifted her dress and cupped her ass with his large hands. The other man unzipped his pants and pulled out a rather impressive erection. Jesus Almighty, didn’t these people believe in privacy? She hadn’t expected this. Having a little fun in the bar, alone with Mitch and Wyatt, the threat of someone walking in at any moment, kept her at the height of arousal even before she touched herself. Doing something out here in the open would send her into cardiac arrest. Fear and uncertainty shimmied through her when more than a few men dressed in all black turned and looked her way. She didn’t come here for them. She came for Wyatt and Mitch. Where in the hell were they? “Hello, gorgeous.” A man the size of a mountain with a low, gravelly voice approached her. “You look like you could use a drink?

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Take mine. I’ll get another.” She glanced down, saw that he had something amber on ice, and prayed it was whiskey. She took it and threw the entire contents back, swallowing down the burning liquid. He grinned. “All righty. I’ll be right back.” She wouldn’t be waiting. Handing the empty glass back to him, she turned and glanced around, searching for her men. The panic of not seeing them settled into her nerves. They wouldn’t be doing this as some sort of test, would they? Or did they chicken out and leave her alone? Wyatt wouldn’t. Mitch, on the other hand, would. “Trish? What are you doing here?” She swung around to see Matt approach. Just when he was about to reach her, the giant man returned, two whiskeys in his hand, and blocked his way. “No way, Gideon. This one’s mine. You guys always get the good ones.” He smiled and winked at her. Trish skidded to a stop and dropped her shoes to have both hands free as she held them up. “Ease up, Greg. She’s not on the menu.” “She’s wearing black.” “Go find someone else.” Matt pushed past Greg and grabbed Trish’s hand. “This one is already taken.” “By you?” “By me.” Wyatt eased a grin as he slid his hand across the small of her back and pulled her to him. His hand slipped lower as he ran it along her ass. When he squeezed, she jumped and flashed him a look. “I see no adornments,” Greg continued to protest. “As far as the rules are concerned, she’s not claimed. No adornment, no Dom.” Wyatt reached up and pinned a red ruby to her dress. “Happy?” Greg’s brown eyes darkened as she grinned. “She still has another side. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared, Wyatt.” His grip on Trish tightened. “Not this time, buddy. We’ve already made arrangements for a third.”

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“Who?” “Me.” Mitch appeared on her other side, not looking nearly as uncomfortable as Trish thought he would. He looked, dare she say, at ease as he pinned another red ruby to her dress. “I’ve never seen you here.” Greg then nodded and flashed a grin. “Nice catch, new guy. Watch your back. If she wants to return your pin, I’ll be right there to take your place.” He looked at Trish and growled as he shook his head. “Seriously fine.” He then walked away, and Trish finally released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Where the hell have you been? I was nearly mauled!” Wyatt grinned and glanced off at Greg, who had since started to hit on another woman, this one more open to his attention. “Greg’s a good guy. He’s a regular here. He was just puffing his chest, Dom to Dom. He would have never won.” Oh, the arrogance. She wanted so badly to defy him. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she asked, “Says who?” With a casual move, he weaved his hands into her hair and tightened his fingers. He then lowered his lips to her, and oh, how this man could kiss. His tongue ravished her as he forced her lips apart. She was vaguely aware of eyes watching. She didn’t care. Flames of ardent need licked at her, fueling her arousal and pulsing between her legs. Her clit sprang to life and throbbed in immediate demand. She jumped back when she realized the moan she heard came from her. Panting with a mixture of anger and desire, she glared at him. “Says me,” he answered, those midnight-blue eyes blazing as he held her prisoner in his gaze. That was good enough for her.

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Chapter 8 Trish stood in the corner of the room as she watched Wyatt unlock a large cabinet. When he slid the doors open, her heart stopped. It looked like a catalog for sex toys, full of everything she’d ever seen—and several things she would have never imagined. He pulled out handcuffs and swung them on his finger as he turned to her. “What are those for?” Her mouth watered. He dropped them on the bed and went back to the cabinet. “I know you favor vibrators, but this first time between us three will be all natural.” He turned to her with a wink. “No batteries required.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and muttered a curse in her humiliation. Now Mitch knew about her love affair with BOB. How embarrassing. “Do you, uh, need any help over there?” Now that they were in private, Mitch looked about as comfortable as he did when she first approached the subject of a ménage. Wyatt turned back to the cabinet. “Why not get her warmed up a bit. I have a few more things to find.” Mitch darted his gaze over to Trish and attempted a smile. She swallowed hard and forced a smile of her own. Fear and anticipation of the unknown pounded through her veins and heated her skin. She’d only had one or the other—or even her own self—touch her body with the three of them together. Tonight she’d finally experience what she’d only dreamed. A true ménage. “What should I do?” Mitch asked, talking out of the side of his mouth to Wyatt.

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Wyatt turned and shot him an incredulous look. With a shake of his head, he tossed a few more things on the bed and then shut the cabinet, locking it and placing the key in his front jean pocket. He then turned and chopped up the distance between him and Trish. Without a word he grabbed her and slammed her to him, his gaze on hers, his expression hungry. “It starts with a look,” he rasped and nudged her nose with his. He grinned when she lifted her chin and licked her lips. “You can tell so much from a single look.” Trish swallowed again. For some reason her mouth wouldn’t stop watering. “And what can you tell from mine?” His grin widened and caused his midnight-blue eyes to dance in mirthful mischief. He ran the tip of his nose along her jawline, inhaling deeply and growling deep in the back of his throat. Oh, dear Jesus, that sound would be her undoing. “That you’ve thought about this for so long. You can’t believe it’s actually happening. You’re scared, but your fear is what fuels your arousal. I can smell how much you want this, baby. I promise you, you won’t be disappointed.” “Y–You got all of that from the look in my eyes?” she asked when he pulled back. That grin melted her from the inside out, twisting her insides and sending a rush of blistering juices to coat the entrance to her pussy. Instantly her fears disappeared, only to be replaced by feminine need and demanding desire. “That and I know you,” he said, his voice smooth and way too charismatic. With a wink, he added, “I know every inch of that sexy body, every ticklish spot, every place you need to be touched and loved.” She really loved this new Wyatt. “Mitch, tell me what you see.” Wyatt took a step back as Mitch approached. “I see someone as nervous as I am.” He grinned sheepishly and

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rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Dear God, the man could be so damned adorable at times. She laughed and inwardly thanked him for breaking the tension in the room. Wyatt had a sexual dominance about him, and she was primed and ready for him to dominate her in every way possible. Her body demanded it. His dominance also thickened the tension in the room to the point that she could barely breathe. He’d obviously done this before and felt completely comfortable with it. Mitch and Trish, however, were both frozen in their fear. “Tell you what,” Wyatt started and moved to the bed to pick up one of the half a dozen items sitting in the middle of it. He grabbed the blindfold and held it up. “Each of us grabs one thing off the bed. We can use it on ourselves or someone else. Our choice.” That sounded relatively easy. She walked to the bed, as did Mitch, and glanced down at the items. Handcuffs, a small stick with a rubber tassel on the end, a strap with a ball in the middle, a long peacock feather, and a corset that looked like something from Moulin Rouge. In an attempt to find the item that would cause her the least amount of angst, she grabbed the feather. Mitch, on the other hand, picked up the handcuffs. She shot him a look, to which he grinned and shrugged in return. Wyatt dropped the blindfold and replaced it with the corset. Turning to her, he thrust it toward her, a dangerously dark look smoldering in his eyes. “If you would.” “What happened to the blindfold?” she asked in a voice an octave higher than her normal tone. He wiggled his brows. “That was before you grabbed the feather.” “What if I don’t want to wear it?” “I’m certainly not going to.” She grabbed it out of his hands and glanced around the room. “There’s nowhere to change.” He looked at her. “Really? Do you know what we plan to do here tonight?”

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She wanted to kill him. Heat now engulfing her cheeks, she turned her back to them and stripped down. The corset didn’t even reach her hips and there was no way it would fit over her boobs. She twisted and tugged, but couldn’t get it fastened. “This thing must have been made for one of those models for Victoria’s Secret. There is no way a normal person could fit in it.” “Fine,” Wyatt said, pulling her back up against his front, one hand sliding over the flat of her stomach while the other cupped a breast. He buried his face at her neck. “I’ll go back to the blindfold.” Mitch chuckled, and she whipped out of Wyatt’s embrace when she realized what he’d done. She was now stark naked in front of them while they both remained fully clothed. “That was a dirty trick.” She narrowed her gaze in on him. “It worked.” He shrugged and grabbed the blindfold off the bed as he lost his smile. “Lay down on the bed.” “Allow me.” Mitch. Sweet, sexy Mitch. He moved to her but didn’t stop when he reached her. Instead he backed her up against the bed and then lowered her to it. The look in his dark eyes rivaled Wyatt’s for dominance. He laid her back and wedged his knee between her legs, his hand sliding up over her hip. His gaze bore into her as he lowered his lips down to capture hers. His tongue stroked at her lips, demanding entrance into her mouth. She granted it without hesitation and arched her back to him. This kiss fisted her womb, twisting like a coil inside her, and made her writhe beneath his hard body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whimpering into his mouth as he devoured her like a starving man, dying for a single taste. He pulled back and looked at her, his gaze dark and uncertain as he studied her. “The cuffs,” Wyatt said, breaking them of their spell. “Who do you want them on?” Mitch curled his lips into a wicked grin as he looked at her.

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Without question, Wyatt took her right wrist, clicked the cuffs on it, pulled it above her head, laced the cuffs through the headboard, and then clicked the other cuff onto her left hand. By the time he finished, Trish shook so hard the metal of the handcuffs clanked against the metal rod in the headboard. “Are you okay?” Mitch asked. She nodded. “What next?” He held up the blindfold. “For you, my love.” His love? Did he really just say that? Closing her eyes, she lifted her head for him to place the blindfold over her eyes. He did, and everything went dark. “Now for the feather,” Wyatt said, his voice gruff. He took the feather from her and left her lying there, unable to see, not a stitch of clothing on. She’d never felt more vulnerable. “I’d really like to be able to see,” she protested, her voice weak in her desire. “You could always use your safe word,” Wyatt suggested. “But then you’d stop.” “I didn’t say I wanted you to.” She shook her head. No way would she back down now. “Go on.” Someone ran the feather down the middle of her breasts. She sucked in a breath and moaned when her nipples hardened almost violently. “When you take away one of the senses, the others become heightened. How does that feel?” Wyatt, of course it was Wyatt. “I want more.” “Mitch, you heard the lady. Who are we to deny the demands of a wanting woman?” Mitch? A tongue stabbed her vagina, and she cried out. “Who was that?” “Does it matter?” Mitch asked. She quickly shook her head.

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“No more questions. No more protests.” Wyatt laid down the law once again and made her want to defy him in every way possible. It also aroused her and made her want to do everything he commanded. “Or what?” It didn’t sound like her as she asked the question. “Or you will be punished.” That sounded like Mitch. Since when did he channel Wyatt? One of them licked at the bare flesh of her sex, and she jerked as a shot of erotic bolts stemmed from the tongue-lashing pulsed inside her. She lifted her hips to him, granting him greater access by opening her legs. Dear God, did this man know how to eat a pussy. It had to be Wyatt. Mitch had never showed that kind of hunger with her. “Get her close, but don’t let her come. Not, yet.” Holy shit. It was Mitch buried between her legs, lashing at her without mercy, stealing the breath from her lungs. He pulled her higher and higher, lifting her up on the cusp of a tidal wave that would crash down and destroy them all. She shuddered when Mitch inserted a finger into her weeping cunt, easing it in with such deliberate slowness she wanted to scream. She rocked her hips and fucked his finger, clenching her teeth when he sucked her clit between his teeth and teased it with his tongue. While Mitch devoured her pussy, Wyatt pinched at her nipples, and sweet ripples of pleasure shimmied across her skin. When Mitch pulled his finger out of her entrance, she was ready to protest, but then he stabbed his tongue into her channel and she came off the bed. “Oh God!” She fought against the handcuffs in an attempt to grab ahold of something. Mitch attacked her pussy without mercy while Wyatt had covered one of her nipples with his hot mouth and teased it with constant flicks of his talented tongue. Damn these handcuffs. She writhed against the restraints as the men drove her closer and closer to the edge of her sanity. And then Mitch did something she only thought Wyatt would do—he took a finger slickened with her own juices and probed her rear. He slid it

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into her backside slowly, carefully, as he continued his assault on her pussy. She started to thrash as the combination of Mitch’s diabolical finger in her rear, his hungry lashing at her pussy, and Wyatt—always Wyatt, in everything he did—pushed her closer to the breaking point. She needed to come. She wanted to come. If she didn’t, if these two men didn’t take her all the way over the top, she’d break the goddamn cuffs and strangle both of them. “Talk to us, baby,” Wyatt said. “Tell us what you need.” Not this again. She didn’t want to talk. She only wanted to feel. But she knew Wyatt and knew he’d not only stop, but also stop Mitch if she didn’t say something. Knowing she’d go insane if they stopped right now, she took the giant leap outside of her comfort zone. “Mitch, Oh God, Mitch. Just a little bit more.” “That’s it, Trish. Talk to him. Tell him exactly what you want.” He slid two fingers into her rear, and she arched her back, having never been taken anally before. Something that burned shouldn’t feel this good, she reasoned. “Again,” she whimpered when he withdrew his fingers. He sank them once again, and she shuddered as her orgasm hovered just out of reach. “I can’t…” She bit down on her lower lip. “Just feel the pleasure,” Wyatt whispered as he licked at her ear and nipped playfully. “Mitch is eating your pussy like a man on his last meal, but this isn’t his last meal, is it, sweetheart? This is the first of many meals between us.” “Ah!” She rocked her hips, fucking Mitch’s tongue and needing more. “Let me taste you, Wyatt. Please.” “You want my cock in that sweet mouth?” “Yes.” “I would never deny you that.” She felt the tip of his hard, warm flesh nudge up against her lips and parted them, flicking her tongue out and lapping up some of the

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moisture gathered at the tip. They’d attempted this before, and she was terrible at it. Ever since that disastrous time ten years ago, she’d never taken another man’s cock in her mouth, and now it terrified her that she’d do it wrong. “Like this, baby.” He eased the head of his erection past her lips. “Now pull me in the rest of the way. That’s it. Just like that.” She slurped on his flesh, matching the pace of Mitch feasting on her pussy. It came naturally to her, sucking on his cock, and the taste of the salty sweetness she extracted from him sent her that much closer. “I can’t stand it. I have to see your eyes.” Wyatt pulled the blindfold off her eyes and stared down at her. Their eyes met, and suddenly the past ten years dissolved between them. It was as if she’d never left, never made the biggest mistake of her life by leaving the two men she loved more than life itself. “Watch me,” he told her. “Keep your eyes on me as Mitch eats your pussy until you come undone from the power of your orgasm. I want to come inside you, but for now, this will do. Mitch, take her over the edge.” And he did. Dear God, how he did. He attacked her pussy with fervent need, and she sucked Wyatt’s cock with equal intensity. Soon they were all in time, driving each other higher, higher. She was so close that her entire body started to vibrate. The dam broke, and Trish stiffened as stars exploded in her vision, the white-hot climax slamming into her so hard, so violently, that she couldn’t even cry out. She sucked on Wyatt’s cock as wave after wave crashed into her. “Oh, Jesus. Fuck me. Yes, just like that. Shit, Trish. Ah, yes. Yes! Yes!” He exploded inside her mouth and shot thick streams of hot semen down her throat. She swallowed it down and sucked, wanting more. She whimpered in protest as he withdrew his cock from between

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her lips. “No, I want more.” “Be careful what you wish for, beautiful. We have a long night ahead of us. Mitch, remove her handcuffs. For what I have planned next, we’ll need her unrestrained.” That thought both scared and thrilled her. Her hands were killing her being stuck above her head. He released them, and she pulled them to her to rub some feeling back into them. Wyatt leaned down and kissed her gently. “Trish, baby, I’m going to fuck that sweet ass of yours, but not tonight. Tonight we’ll work on loosening you up. Trust me, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.” “I’ll have to take your word for it,” she murmured, having never been taken anally before. She’d always been curious and found it disappointing that she wouldn’t find out tonight. She wanted it, her body primed and ready for the taking. He pulled her up into a sitting position and then cupped her face in his hands. His blue gaze burned into her as he studied her. “What is it?” She couldn’t tell him. Saying something in the height of her arousal was one thing, but out and out telling him what she wanted was another. “What’s your hesitation, beautiful?” Mitch had removed his shirt and pants and stood there in his boxers and socks. Although he looked ridiculous, she’d never seen him more delectable. “Second thoughts?” “Trish doesn’t have second thoughts.” Wyatt moved his hands down her shoulders, trailing his fingers down her arms and across to her breasts. There he teased them into erect little buds. “And this was her idea, if you recall. So tell me, what is it Trish wants?” She closed her eyes and released a shaky breath as a shudder of pleasure ripped through her when he pinched her nipples. Her pussy clenched and spasmed, and she shuddered again. “Are you unhappy with the arrangement?” Wyatt caressed her breasts with such tenderness she opened her eyes to watch him. Those

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blazing blue eyes smoldered as they bore into her. She shook her head. “Would you rather have Mitch’s hands on you?” “I’d rather have you both.” She sucked in a breath when he pulled his hands back, upset that she’d finally taken that step to tell him what she wanted and he’d rejected her for it. “At the same time?” Mitch moved to her side and sat down on the bed. Although the thought of both men inside her at the same time excited and scared the shit out of her, the look of heated lust in Mitch’s gaze had her nodding quickly. To make sure she got her point across, she repeated his question as her answer. “At the same time.” “You’re getting better at telling us what you want,” Wyatt stated as he finished undressing. Once he stood naked in front of her, his hand went to his bobbing erection, and slowly he stroked. “Jesus Christ, Wyatt. Do you have to do that?” Mitch curled his lip and shook his head. “Would you rather do it?” He laughed when Mitch tossed out one of his favorite phrases, telling Wyatt exactly what he could do with his hard-on. “I’ll do it,” Trish said quietly. The men pulled their attention away from each other and focused it back on her, where it should be anyway. Wyatt grinned. “I have a better idea. Go to Mitch, tease him with nothing more than a look.” She didn’t even hesitate, rising to her knees and walking herself over to the edge of the bed to face Mitch. It felt good to follow Wyatt’s instructions, knowing there’d be a reward for doing so. Mitch’s brown eyes darkened as his pupils widened. He cocked his lips up into a crooked grin when she tilted her head and made her best attempt at flirting. “You were always good at those looks,” he groaned and looked ready to pull his cock out of his boxers to stroke it. He ran the palm of

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his hand along the bulge and winced. She licked her lips, allowing a naughty bravado she didn’t even know she had to take over. “Don’t be shy. Whip it out, cowboy.” “You’ve always driven me crazy when you look at me like that.” He pushed his boxers down and kicked them off. His large cock bobbed from the movement. She licked her lips again as she eyed it. “Do that again and I’ll lose it,” he told her in a growl. He then leaned down and covered her lips with his, kissing her so gently it stole her breath. But then he weaved his fingers into her hair and tightened his grip, and the kiss changed from a flicker to a flame in an instant. No, not just a flame, a towering inferno of passion, engulfing her in her own need. And then, behind her, she felt Wyatt. She whimpered into Mitch’s mouth as Wyatt’s strong hands parted her ass cheeks and, moments later, his tongue brushed along her virginal back hole. He licked her from hole to hole, spreading her juices and driving her wild. When he slipped a finger into her rear, she arched and sucked on Mitch’s tongue. She bucked and pushed against Wyatt’s finger, needing more. Oh God, how she needed more. It made no sense, this wildfire inside her, but she wasn’t about to deny it. “More,” she moaned. Wyatt withdrew his finger and replaced it with two, easing them in and driving her to the brink of her sanity. The burn of his finger convinced her that there would be no way for her to take the thick width of his cock. If she couldn’t control herself with just his fingers scissoring inside her, she’d never be able to take him. Mitch had moved his hand down and started to explore, finding her swollen clit and teasing it with slow, lazy circles. Wyatt—playful, wicked Wyatt—continued to ease in and out of her back hole in slow, steady strokes. She had to find something to hold on to. Reaching out blindly, she

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dug her nails into Mitch’s shoulders to stop herself from spinning out of control from the burning pleasure coursing through her. He hissed in a breath. “Jesus, woman. That shit hurts.” Wyatt reached into the top drawer in the table next to the bed and pulled out a handful of condoms, tossing one to Mitch before grabbing one for himself and dropping the rest in a pile on the bed. Trish’s eyes widened at the size of the pile. “Do you really think we’ll use all of those?” Wyatt shrugged and grinned. “I certainly hope so.” Once he rolled the condom down his flesh, he gently pressed her down on her hands and knees. He pressed his sheathed erection into the depths of her drenched pussy, and she bit her lip to stop from crying out. It felt so good to finally be taken by him again. But then he pulled out, and she whimpered in protest. She opened her mouth to say something, but Mitch took it as an invitation and slipped his erection between her lips. She sucked it inside her mouth and flicked the end with her tongue to lap up the delicious pre-cum. Wyatt rocked his hips, slowly easing his steely flesh in and out of her pussy. “Are you sure you want us both at the same time? This is your first time, baby. We should take it slow.” “We don’t want to hurt you,” Mitch added. “Please,” she whimpered, Mitch’s cock still between her lips. “At the same time as it should be. I never want it any other way.” She pulled her mouth off Mitch with an audible pop when Wyatt withdrew his cock from her pussy and nudged it against her tiny puckered hole. He worked his erection inside her slowly, deliberately, penetrating ever so slightly before pulling back out and repeating the motion, pushing just a breath further each time. When the head of his cock broke through the barrier and he lodged his thick, heavy flesh inside her, she jerked against the invasion. Wyatt was right. It was too much. The pleasure bordered pain, and she knew enjoying this, having him fuck her ass, should not have her close to screaming in wild abandonment.

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“Holy shit,” Wyatt growled and held her hips still by digging his fingers into her flesh. “Jesus, baby. So sweet and tight. Ah, like paradise. Just fucking paradise.” Mitch stumbled as Trish sucked hard, pulling his cock back into her mouth as Wyatt buried himself into the depths of her tight rear. He dragged a moan from her when he started to move. “You’re going to take the skin right from my flesh.” Mitch rocked his hips and pushed his erection in and out of her mouth. “Ah, just like that. Jesus, Trish. Where did you learn to do that?” Trish closed her eyes and allowed the sensations consuming her to take over completely. Wyatt moved in and out of her ass in slow, steady strokes. He retreated and groaned low and long as he pushed inside her once again. With each drive of his cock buried in her ass, Trish lost a little more of her sanity. The pleasure that bordered on pain confused her. She didn’t know where the pain ended and the pleasure began, and vice versa. There was no way to separate the two. When Wyatt reached around and pinched her clit between his thumb and finger, she came undone. Coming harder than she’d ever come in her life, she sucked and slurped at Mitch’s cock with fervor, trying to make sense of the sensations attacking her. Wyatt thrust deep and hard, and she screamed. She’d never screamed during sex in her life, but the way her orgasm refused to ebb had her close to passing out. She thrashed, rocking back and forth as the waves of her climax took over her movement. “No, baby. Please.” Wyatt dug his fingers deeper into her hips. “Hold still. Ah, Jesus. Stop moving. Goddamn it. Fuck!” He drove hard against her, slamming into her ass, until in one final push, he exploded and released a strangled cry. “Sweet Jesus,” Mitch shouted as he spurted hot semen into her mouth, his cock throbbing as he pushed jet after jet of the hot, sticky liquid down her throat. She swallowed and kept him in her mouth until he had nothing left.

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She collapsed to the bed and rolled onto her back to look up at her men. Her men. No wonder so many people visited the GR&L for these weekend escapades. Had she known she’d have an experience like this each and every time, she’d never leave.

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Chapter 9 “I shouldn’t have fucked her mouth like that.” Mitch pushed his hands through his hair as he sat down at the table with Wyatt, coffee spiked with Baileys in hand, regret coursing through his weary veins. Last night the three of them did things he never thought he’d do but now wanted to do again. Damn it. He’d treated her like a piece of ass last night. Trish was so much more than that. He shook his head and stared at the steaming liquid. “And the way I grabbed her head like that. Ugh! She must hate me now.” “You were just showing her what you wanted,” Wyatt commented and let out a long sigh as he studied some papers in his hand. “Quit being such a pussy. You finally let yourself go last night.” “That’s you, not me.” Wyatt flicked his burning blue gaze up from the papers and looked at him. “I wasn’t the only one there.” “No, I mean I don’t do things like that.” He brought his attention back to the papers. “Maybe you should.” How could the son of a bitch be so calm about this? Last night Wyatt and Mitch—two sworn enemies—shared a woman in bed. The earth had to be off its axis. And to make matters worse, Mitch had actually enjoyed it. Hell, he’d learned more than a thing or two from Wyatt, but he’d never admit it. “Where do you suppose she is?” “Still in her room, I’d wager.” Wyatt cleared his throat and kept his attention on his papers, the relaxed bastard. Mitch could chew glass and be more relaxed. He looked at his

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watch and clenched his teeth. “It’s almost ten o’clock.” “She had a long night,” he said and sat back as he studied Mitch. “What’s got you so wound up? I figured you’d be a little more at ease after the first time. Most normal people are.” “Fuck you,” he rasped and jumped up from the table, ignoring the looks from the other guests. “You know, you really are an asshole.” “Yes, I am.” He grinned and sipped at his coffee. “I should have known this would never work. You can’t pull your ego in enough to make this any easier, can you?” Wyatt rolled his eyes and Mitch wanted to punch the goddamn blue orbs out of the man’s skull. “Would you try to check those insecurities at the door and make this about someone other than you?” “What the hell are you talking about?” He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, and nodded for Mitch to take a seat. He did, but reluctantly. The rest of the guests enjoying their breakfast with their newfound companions for the weekend went back to their meals. “Since the first time Trish mentioned the word ménage, you’ve been in a frenzy. Why not just go with it? Let her have this, man. This isn’t about you, it isn’t about me. This is about Trish Armstrong and how much we both want her. At least this way I won’t bust your nose whenever you look at her.” “That was one time.” Mitch weaved his fingers into his hair and leaned his elbows on the table. If he didn’t find a way to channel some of Wyatt’s calmness and strength, he’d have a stroke. “Am I interrupting?” He jerked his head up at the sound of her sweet voice. She smiled at him, those enormous baby blue eyes glittering, her skin glowing like a woman freshly loved. “May I?” She didn’t wait for an answer and took his coffee from him, sipping at it and moaning in delight. “That’s good.” Dear Jesus in heaven. His dick surged when she licked her lips,

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capturing the tiny bit of liquid on her tongue. “Do that again,” Wyatt said, his voice thick. She curled her sexy lips into a sultry grin as she took a seat at the table. “Maybe later. So what goes on during the day here?” “The guests enjoy the activities for the most part. There’s a group going rafting on Rock Creek, another going horseback riding, and I think we have a few signed up for fly-fishing lessons.” This time she took Wyatt’s coffee and sipped at it. She made a face and handed it back before taking Mitch’s once again. He knew he’d never get it back and didn’t bother to protest. “So the typical commercial dude ranch by day, the dark, lusty ranch by night.” Wyatt laughed. “Something like that.” “I slept great,” she informed them and stretched her hands high above her head. The curve of her breasts beneath her black dress held Mitch’s attention. He’d slept like shit. He couldn’t stop thinking about Trish and wondering whether he’d hurt her, made her happy, or everything in between. “Just wait until tonight,” Wyatt mentioned casually, his focus on the papers. He frowned and flipped to the next page. His frown deepened. “What is it?” Mitch asked. Wyatt handed him the paper. “Take a look at the price per pound.” This time Mitch frowned. “Is that the current market price?” “Yep.” Trish sat up and glanced between them. “What’s going on?” “The price of beef per pound keeps dropping,” Mitch explained. “This keeps up we’ll have to increase our head count just to break even.” “We need to pull a head count on your cattle today.” Wyatt stood and grabbed his hat. “Where are you going?”

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“It’s where we are going,” Wyatt corrected Mitch and nodded for him to stand. Mitch stood and grabbed his hat. “What’s up?” Wyatt talked as he marched toward the double glass doors that led out to the back patio. “Ever since Dutch Barkus bought the ranch on the other side of ours and moved all that cattle in, the price per pound has been dropping. With the number of head he’s got, he can afford it. We can’t.” “You don’t think—” Wyatt looked at him and silenced his question. “Oh shit,” Mitch muttered. “That son of a bitch.” “What’s going on?” Trish followed on their heels as they both made their way out to the deck and off onto the grass. The sun blazed down, and Mitch knew it would be another scorcher today. He already felt the heat prickle his skin. Thank God he’d filled all the water troughs before he left for the ranch last night. “I know where our missing cattle are.” Wyatt marched over to the barn and pushed the doors open. “Mitch, how soon can you be ready to pay him a visit?” “Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.” “Would one of you tell me what the hell is going on?” Mitch whipped around and grabbed her shoulders, nailing her with an intense gaze. He didn’t want her mixed up in this. He wanted her safe. He couldn’t keep her safe when he wanted to kill the man they were about to visit. Cattle rustling was not only illegal, it was damn stupid. If ranchers caught wind of a cattle rustler, they’d drive him out of town—if they didn’t kill him. To hell with torches and pitchforks. Ranchers used guns and brute strength. He didn’t want Trish anywhere near that. “Go home, Trish.” As soon as he said it, saw that look of hurt in her eyes, he regretted it. And then her hurt grew to a fury as she colored. Jerking out of his grasp, she narrowed her cool glare at him and looked ready to kill him

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with her pretty bare hands. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some fragile little woman you can fuck and then just walk away from.” “I’m not walking away,” he explained, backing up as she took a step toward him. Damn, she was scary when she looked at him with that venom in her eyes. She took another step, and he backed up. “Tell me what’s going on.” “Trish, come on. You don’t need to get into the middle of this.” She didn’t take his words kindly. Fire flashed in her eyes. “In the middle of what? Why would you be paying Dutch Barkus a visit? That guy is an asshole. Tell me what’s going on.” “Enough.” Wyatt stepped between them, his glare on Trish. “Go check on Gramps. When we get back, we’ll stop by and talk to you.” His tone left nothing up for discussion. Trish snapped her mouth closed and marched off toward the break in the fence. Not until she was safely on her property and out of earshot did Mitch dare speak. “She scares the hell out of me sometimes. Did you see the way she looked at me?” Wyatt slapped him on the back. “Yep. You’re screwed.” Mitch looked at him. “Thanks a lot. I didn’t see you trying to get her calmed down.” Wyatt pushed an ATV out of the barn. “That’s because you can’t get her to calm down, not when she’s riled up like that. The best thing you can do with Trish is to let her blow off a little steam and then redirect her. What’s the one thing that upsets Trish?” “You mean other than you?” Wyatt looked at him. “Ed.” “Exactly.” Mitch hated to admit it, but Wyatt was right. Again. “Go change and meet me back here. We’ll take the ATVs.” “I have mine parked behind the barn.” He rode it in last night to attend the first night of the ménage weekend. After last night, he

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could hardly think of anything other than having his cock buried deep inside the depths of Trish’s pussy. The way she sucked his dick, like a goddamn expert, had him wondering just how many times she’d done that before. She certainly knew what to do. Not that it mattered. She may have had other lovers in her past— Wyatt, for sure—but right now, Mitch was her lover. Mitch and Wyatt. Tonight he planned to take her in every way possible. He had to make sure she knew he wouldn’t stand back and be a passive participant this time. This time, he planned to prove that Wyatt wasn’t the only sexually dominant man in the trio. He drove the worn ATV trail along the fence line and parked the quad up against the house before running inside to jump in the shower, his mind replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours. He’d never seen Trish with such unbridled passion, such ardent need, as she possessed last night. It drove him wild and made him do things he thought he’d never do—like share her with his enemy. Clenching his teeth, he flexed his jaw until it ached and scrubbed at his skin until it was raw. What the hell was he thinking, sharing her with the likes of a Gideon? Not just any Gideon, but the one Gideon who had always been the barrier between Mitch and Trish. Those Gideons knew how to share their women. They did things like this on a regular basis. And, goddamn it, Mitch now understood why. After last night, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. Shutting the shower off, he grabbed at the towel on the rack and dried himself. The thought of the three of them together again tonight had his gut tight and his skin way too sensitive. But Trish was madder than hell, and her anger would only fester into a fury by the time they went to her at her ranch later. Would she be as open to them tonight? Would she tell them both to go to hell and slam the door in their faces? He dressed quickly and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d already put out enough rolls of alfalfa last night, so the cattle were

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good. Out of habit and hating getting sweat in his eyes, he wrapped a bandanna around his head before placing his hat on his head. His booted feet echoed through the empty hall as he walked down and descended the stairs. He hated to admit it, but living alone in the large ranch home of his youth had started to get to him. Waking up alone, spending the day alone, and yes, going to bed alone had made him start to question whether his solitude was by necessity or by choice. He thought of Trish and sighed as he closed the front door behind him and walked out into the bright sunshine and heat of the day. Damn, was it blistering out here already, and it wasn’t even noon. Would Trish lie out in the sun and darken the tan on that delicious skin? She didn’t have a tan line anywhere on her beautiful body, and just the thought of her lying out in her yard, naked, had him secondguessing whether to pay Dutch Barkus a visit or stay behind to keep an eye on Trish. He wouldn’t want her to burn. No. Wyatt would find out, and then there’d be hell to pay. Besides, Mitch was the one to lay down the rule of no secret escapades. It would either be all three together or not at all. Damn it. He really wished he would have thought that one through. Wyatt sat on his own ATV by the time Mitch rode up to the GR&L. He tossed Mitch an ice-cold water as he stopped next to him. “You ready for this?” “For what? We’re just paying Dutch a nice, neighborly visit,” Mitch shot back with a grin. Wyatt chuckled and challenged him with a look. “Try to keep up.” Oh, hell yeah. They used to do this when they were kids, always trying to outdo the other. Wyatt sped off, and Mitch followed. But not for long. Mitch thumbed the gas and raced past Wyatt, being sure to squirrel his back end to kick up a hell of a lot of dust. He smiled wide. Until he saw Wyatt out of the corner of his eye taking a jump and

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flying past Mitch. Damn it. He gassed it and caught up with Wyatt just as they reached a little wooden bridge, only big enough for one at a time. With a quick exchange of glances, they both went for it at the same time. No way would Mitch let Wyatt have all the control. He made it to the bridge first and felt Wyatt bump into the back of his ATV. Oh, it was so on. They took a trail off to the left, a shortcut to Dutch’s property. Mitch cut to the right to hit a few jumps while Wyatt cut off to the left to do the same. For twenty adrenaline-filled minutes, the men took jump after jump, berm after berm, trying to one-up the other. They used to have so much fun riding their bikes together. Mitch didn’t realize how much he’d missed this. And Trish was right there, between them—always between them—where she belonged. He slowed the ATV at his realization. Panting, more at the shock of his epiphany than the rush of blood spiking his pulse, he brought the ATV to a stop. Wyatt pulled up next to him. “What’s wrong?” The reason he’d never fully had Trish, the reason neither one of them ever truly had her, sat on ATVs, trying to best the other. None of this was Trish’s fault. It was theirs—his and Wyatt’s. He looked at Wyatt, at the dust covering him and turning him the same color as the trail, and knew he must look the same. What a sight they’d present to Dutch. When Wyatt smiled, revealing those white teeth with dirt stuck between them, Mitch had to chuckle. They’d been fighting each other for years to get at Trish, and for what? Neither one of them would have ever won. Trish didn’t want just one of them, she never did. She wanted them both. Equally. At the same time. And, damn it, Mitch realized there and then that he never wanted to take Trish from Wyatt. Even the times they’d slept together, it didn’t feel right.

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Now he knew why. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head. Wyatt frowned at him. No doubt the cocky bastard had known about Trish’s wants all along. He’d be damned if he let Wyatt take the credit for finally bringing the three of them back together. A weight lifted, and Mitch pulled in a deep breath of the hot, dusty, summer air. It had never smelled better. Wyatt still looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Mitch laughed, loud, long, and hard. Damn, it felt good. “You ready?” Wyatt cocked his head at Mitch. “You sane?” “I don’t think so.” Wyatt grinned. “Then I’m ready.” And they rode until they found bigger jumps and higher berms. Dutch could wait. They had some time to make up. Hating each other for so long when they both wanted the same thing—Trish—had wasted too many years between them. It was time to get that back.

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Chapter 10 Wyatt accepted Mitch’s bandanna and dunked it in the creek running along Dutch’s property. He wiped his face and neck before handing it back. Mitch submerged it and pulled it out, wrung it out, and tied it around his neck. “Do you think he’s home?” Wyatt squinted against the sun as she glanced toward Dutch’s ginormous house. Of course he was home. The son of a bitch didn’t even lift his finger to work the ranch he bragged about. “Yes.” “And we are just going to walk up to him and ask if he’s seen our calves?” “Something like that.” Wyatt didn’t have a plan and didn’t need one. If Dutch Barkus had anything to do with the missing head, Wyatt would know. “That’s our plan?” “You have a better idea?” Mitch fell silent, but held a frown as they slowly rode to the house so as not to kick up any dust. “This doesn’t feel right, Wyatt.” “Would you grow a set?” “Fuck you. I’m not talking about that. Something doesn’t settle with me. Check it out. He’s standing at the window. It’s like he expected us to come.” Wyatt looked up at the window to see Dutch standing there in his suit. The man dressed like a nineteenth-century banker, with a bolo tie, silk vest, and frilly shirt. No one dressed like that who ever worked an honest day in his life.

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“Let’s go.” He killed the motor and stepped off his ATV. Mitch followed, and before they reached the top step of the covered porch, Dutch had the door open and watched them with his narrowed, beady black eyes. “Good morning, gentlemen.” He held the door open with his clean, obviously manicured hands. Men who actually worked the ranches did not have clean hands, let alone smooth nails. “Nice hands,” Wyatt commented and snarled. Dutch held his fingers out and grinned. “I’d like to think so.” “How do you keep them so clean?” He laughed, patronizing Wyatt in his tone. “You can’t busy the quarterback with passing out the Gatorade, son.” Wyatt clenched his teeth together to stop himself from telling Dutch what he could do with his fucking metaphor. But then Mitch stepped forward and saved Wyatt from having to speak. “Dutch, we seem to have a little problem we’re hoping you could help us with. See, we got some calves missing and were wondering if you happened to see them.” Although he spoke in a smooth, cool tone, Wyatt saw the way his shoulders flexed and his spine stiffened. “Mitch, is it?” “You know damn well what my name is since you’ve named me in several of your bullshit lawsuits. Now, have you seen our cattle or not, and don’t make me repeat myself.” “He hates to repeat himself,” Wyatt added and took a step forward. Dutch stiffened and thrust out his pointy chin. He looked just like the young Ebenezer Scrooge from that animated remake of A Christmas Carol. Dark hair had already started to thin on the top and gave his black eyes an even more beady appearance. The giant eagle’s beak he called his nose overshadowed his thin lips. “I’m not sure I appreciate what it is you’re accusing me of.” Wyatt took another step until he stood next to Mitch. “Got a guilty conscience, Dutch?”

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“I’ve got a busy schedule,” he countered and stepped back into the safety of his house. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.” “You can’t?” Wyatt asked. “Or you won’t?” Mitch added. He grinned. The son of a bitch actually grinned at them, and Wyatt wanted to rip off his goddamn head. And then he closed the door in their faces. “That bastard didn’t answer the question.” Wyatt was very well aware of that. “Let’s go.” Mitch put his hand on Wyatt’s chest. “We can’t just leave.” “I have an idea.” He walked down the steps and over to the ATVs, and waited for Mitch to jump on his before turning to him. “What do you think it will take to convince Trish to meet us at your place? For what I have in mind, I’d like a little privacy.” Mitch grinned. “How about I get a little picnic set up out back and you pick her up at her place? Meet me at mine in, say, half an hour.” “Perfect.” They both took off, driving slow and side by side so they could talk. Mitch glanced Wyatt’s way. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?” He yelled to be heard over the motors. “Dutch needs a little distraction. Trish can be quite a distraction.” “And then some,” Mitch said, and they both nodded. “Fifty bucks says I make the bridge before you.” Wyatt grinned. “You’re on.” **** Trish stared into the black abyss of her coffee cup, debating whether to spike it with a shot of whiskey—or sugar, as Gramps would call it. Even filling the entire cup with liquor wouldn’t dampen the pain caused by first Mitch’s dismissal, and then Wyatt’s demand

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for her to go away. Just who did they think they were, ordering her around like that? And why then did she not protest when Wyatt sent her home like a disobedient child? One of these days she’d learn to ignore him when he used that tone on her. “What’s eating at you?” Gramps walked into the living room and sank down in his recliner with a slow moan. She couldn’t trouble him with her problems. He’d warned her last night that the weekends at the GR&L were a temporary fix. Temporary, indeed. After the way they took her to new heights last night, only to toss her aside this morning, confirmed her worst fear. She’d love the ménage, but they wouldn’t. She must have done something wrong. She wasn’t the most experienced lover. Apparently both Wyatt and Mitch had expected more from her. Well, to hell with them. She’d go out and find the biggest, dumbest redneck she could and have him teach her. When Wyatt and Mitch came after her—and she knew they would—she’d have her new boyfriend kick both their asses. Letting out a depressed sigh, she melted further into the couch and sipped at her coffee. After her shower, she’d changed into the frumpiest clothes she owned. To hell with her Brazilian wax. She’d let it all grow out. Rednecks didn’t give a shit about a bare pussy, she was sure. She sighed again. It wasn’t like she’d never had her heart ripped out by Wyatt Gideon, or Mitch Brown for that matter. She should have known better than to think there’d ever be anything between the three of them. Her dream, shattered after a single night of them fucking her half to death. Gramps walked into the room and stopped when he eyed her. “You want to talk about it?” She shook her head and kept her attention on the cold liquid in her

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cup. She hadn’t even taken a sip. “Should I go?” She shook her head again. “Grits, this ain’t you. If you don’t like the way things turned out, do something about it. Don’t just sit here moping. Nothing good ever came from sitting on your butt making wishes into a cold cup of coffee.” Glancing up from her cup, she smiled when he flashed her his grandpa grin. She’d never been able to stay mad when he grinned like a damned fool. And, out of nowhere, the floodgates opened. Tears swelled in her eyes and flowed freely down her face. After last night, she’d never wanted them both more and seriously thought they’d be more than a one-night stand. “Oh no, not tears. I can deal with just about anything but a woman crying. You sure you don’t want me to go?” “I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice shaking, along with her chin. She hated that this hurt so bad. Big girls don’t cry, wasn’t that the saying? “If those boys hurt you, I’ll kick both their asses.” He’d at least try, and she knew it. She wiped at her eyes and drew in a deep breath to clear her head. “Gramps, I’m fine, really. It just wasn’t what I expected.” “You thought spending the night with two men who’ve already tried to kill each other over you was a good idea? It’s like putting a lamb between two starving lions. Those boys will kill over you, mark my words.” He shook his head and turned to leave, but stopped as he looked out the front window. “Looks like you got a visitor.” She heard the motor and glanced through the giant window facing the driveway to see Wyatt jumping off his ATV, covered head to toe in dust. Her mouth watered at the sight. It made no sense why seeing him now, looking like he’d rolled around in the dirt, should turn her on. It sure as hell shouldn’t have her breathing faster, her pussy clenching, sending a rush of thrilling

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pleasure rocking through her body. “Ed.” Wyatt nodded at Gramps as he stepped inside. “You look a sight. You been out rounding up your missing head?” “Not yet, but soon. Do you mind if I have a word with Trish?” Gramps stiffened and looked over his shoulder at her. She gave him a slight nod. He turned to Wyatt and squared his tired shoulders. “You make her cry again and you and I are gonna have words. Got it?” “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.” His blue gaze sliced through the tension in the room and slammed into hers. “I promise.” “See that it doesn’t. I like you, Wyatt. I like all you Gideons. You grew up right. Your grandfather saw to that, God rest his soul. Don’t make me regret this.” “You won’t, sir.” Gramps walked out the front door, closing it behind him. She didn’t know what to say. The ache in her body had transformed. She no longer hurt. Instead, the demand attacking her body had her trembling with need. “I’m sorry,” he offered, the sincerity in his voice shocking her. She was not going to let him get off that easily. “You hurt me.” “I know.” “Don’t do it again.” He looked at her, those brilliant, deep blue eyes boring into her and melting her from the inside out. Trish shivered when he raked his darkening gaze over her body, her breasts buried beneath a baggy shirt, her now weeping sex hidden under cutoff sweats two sizes too big. Even dressed like this, he still stared at her with fire burning in his eyes. “I won’t.” And she believed him. “You look like shit.” He grinned and nodded. “Mitch and I got a little carried away on the quads.”

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She didn’t know whether to be relieved they ditched her to go for a ride, or pissed that they didn’t think she’d be able to keep up with them. “That’s why you sent me home, so you and Mitch could go play?” “Not exactly.” “Then why did you send me away like that, Wyatt? Why?” “Get dressed. We’ll explain everything.” “I am dressed,” she countered and thrust out her chin. To hell with them. “You look like you’re in your pj’s.” She smiled sweetly. “I sleep naked, remember?” He sucked in a breath as his expression stilled and hunger glowed in his eyes. “Fine. Stay in what you’re wearing. Mitch and I have a surprise for you. Let’s go.” “Where are we going?” Even as she asked, she stood up off the couch, leaving her cold coffee on the table. “To Mitch’s. We’ll have some privacy there. There are still a lot of guests at the ranch who’d rather stay in and play than go out in this heat.” “Making a bit of heat of their own?” His wicked gaze glistened. “Something like that, which is why I want to head to Mitch’s. For what I have planned, we need to be alone.” That sounded promising. She looked down at her clothes and cringed. They may find her sexy like this—she knew Wyatt did—but she sure as hell didn’t feel sexy. But she wanted to. Damn how she wanted to. “Let me change into something a little more, um…” She turned and raced up the stairs to her room. “I’ll be back down in a sec.” She stripped down as she ran to her closet and grabbed the first thing she could find. It was a pale summer dress that hugged her curves just so. She slipped it on and ran out of her room. “Ready,” she stated, out of breath, more from the anticipation of

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what Wyatt had in mind than her rush to change. “You’re beautiful.” He held the door for her. “I’m afraid you’ll get dirty leaning up against me.” “I hope so,” she replied with a wiggle of her brows and sly grin.

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Chapter 11 By the time they arrived at Mitch’s ranch, Trish could barely breathe from the excitement and anticipation of whatever surprise the men had in store for her. Wyatt pulled the ATV around back and parked it near the house. “Mitch is in the shade of the backside of the barn. I’ll jump in the shower to wash off this dust and meet you out back. Try not to get too far without me.” Her heart slammed in her chest and thudded in her ears. Without him? What did that mean? “You want me to be with Mitch? Alone?” He pulled her into his arms and enveloped her with pure male allure. “Baby, he needs this. You both do.” She stiffened and pushed back to stare up at Wyatt. His lips quirked into a sexy grin that had her already overly sensitive nerves in a frenzy. “I don’t understand. I thought we all agreed it was all of us together or not at all.” He kissed her nose. “You and Mitch agreed to that. I didn’t. I’m telling you now, go to him. He needs to know this is more than just the here and now.” She needed to know that, too. “Is it?” His eyes narrowed in on her as a muscle ticked in his jaw. “What do you think?” “I don’t know what to think, Wyatt. I’ve barely seen you in ten years, and then all of the sudden you go all Dom on me, making me crazy with your demands on my body and on my sanity.” She pushed him, and she knew it. There was only so far she could push Wyatt

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Gideon before he snapped. She saw in his ever-darkening eyes that he was close to his breaking point. His sizzling look started to burn, with hunger, with need. “You’re mine, Trish. You always have been. After last night, you also belong to Mitch. We’ve claimed you, baby, and there is no going back.” She stared at him, first in disbelief, but as the comprehension of his statement sank in, her doubt faded. “What are you saying?” She had to hear the words before she believed him. “Go to Mitch. Let him know you aren’t going anywhere. When I join you, I’ll show you exactly what I mean.” “Are you sure? I mean—” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “I’ve never been surer. Now go. We’re burning daylight.” With a nod, she turned and walked around the barn to find Mitch. What she found was anything but what she expected. Mitch had stretched out on a blanket, a picnic basket at his side and a radio at the head of the spread. As soon as he saw her, he flashed that debilitating grin. He then lost it as he muttered a curse and reached above him to turn on the music before grinning at her again. It was one of her favorite bluegrass songs. The twang of the slide guitar reminded her of all the songs her Gramps listened to as she grew up and immediately soothed her. “Hi.” “Hi,” she said and offered him a nervous grin. After what they’d done last night, she had no reason to be nervous, but she was nonetheless. “Join me.” It wasn’t a question. She moved to the blanket and sank down, all the while wondering when Mitch had started channeling Wyatt. He’d never ordered her around before. Until last night. That was it! Wyatt had gotten to him as much as he’d gotten to

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her. His strong sexual dominance threatened Mitch, just as it had Trish crazy with wanting to defy him. If Mitch tried to dominate her the way Wyatt did, she’d just have to defy him, too. Turning, she straightened out on the blanket next to Mitch and leaned up on her elbow, facing him. The heat of the afternoon soaked into her body. She loved the sun. Living in a state that received sun three hundred days out of the year, she knew she’d never want to live anywhere other than Montana. Hot days and hot cowboys to create even hotter nights. She leveled her gaze on Mitch and swallowed down the butterflies in her stomach. He mimicked her stance and twisted some hay in his fingers. “We need to talk.” They could at least start there and see where it led. “If I wanted to talk, I wouldn’t have laid out a blanket.” He looked at her, his dark eyes riveted to her face. “We’ve done enough talking, Trish.” “But what about last night?” “What about it?” A flicker of uncertainty surged in his gaze. “Shouldn’t we at least talk about it?” He tossed the hay in his hands behind him before scooting close enough for her to feel the heat from his nearness prickle her skin. His lips quirked into a warm smile. “I don’t want to talk.” He ran his nose along her cheek and cupped his hand behind her neck. “What do you want to do?” She swallowed thickly as he brought out his tongue and flicked it against her lower lip. “You,” he rasped. One word. Direct, no hidden meaning there. And then he kissed her. The feel of his tongue stroking over hers sent a river of arousal rushing between her legs, drenching her Gstring. She rocked her hips, desperate for friction. The hand he’d used to pull her to him left the back of her neck and traveled down her side, her hip, around to the front, and disappeared beneath her short

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summer dress. He dipped his fingers underneath the silk material of her G-string, and he pushed it aside. His thumb pressed against her clit and began to rotate. A rattled cry escaped her lips and into his mouth. “Shit, Trish. You’re so wet.” He eased a finger into the aching entrance of her pussy. She shuddered against him and wiggled closer. Pulling his finger out, he then replaced it with two and scissored them, teasing her, stretching her, making her writhe. “And tight. Can you feel the way your body is just spilling that sweet nectar?” “Oh, Mitch.” She loved the way he talked to her, so naughty, so un-Mitch-like. He’d never been so vocal with her. Arching her back to grant him better access, she threw her head back and moaned when he thrust his finger deep inside her pussy. “Yes. Please, again. Do that again.” “What? This?” He thrust his finger in deeper, and she cried out again. “You like that, don’t you? What do you want, Trish?” Oh, no. Not him, too. Still, when she told them exactly what she wanted, they gave it to her. Tenfold. What the hell? “Fuck me,” she told him and even went so far as to grab the giant bulge between his legs. “Please, Mitch. Show me that there’s more between us than last night.” He kicked off his boots and socks, followed by the rest of his clothes. He then pulled her dress up over her head and removed her bra and panties, leaving her naked as well. After sheathing his erection, he rolled to his back and pulled her up to straddle him. She grabbed his shoulders and froze, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He made no allowances, no reservations, and he sank his cock to the hilt inside her pussy, stretching her saturated flesh in one solid thrust. His fingers tightened on her hips as he held her still, but she couldn’t be stilled. She needed more and rocked her hips to slide him out and back in.

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“Jesus,” he groaned in a strangled tone. “Just hold still. Give me a second.” She wanted to break and knew it would only take a few strokes for him to send her over the edge. Her orgasm already hummed inside her like a dragster waiting on the line. She just needed a little more for the lights to fall to green and for her to take off. “More.” She clawed at him, digging her nails into his shoulders. “Oh, please. Oh, Mitch. Give me more.” “I’ll take care of that,” Wyatt said as he joined them without a stitch of clothing on. “Did you walk out here naked?” Mitch once again held Trish still. “It would have been frivolous to put clothes on when I’d just be taking them back off once I got out here.” “I have neighbors,” Mitch protested. “We are your neighbors,” Wyatt pointed out as he nudged behind Trish and gently lowered her down to Mitch’s chest. “Relax, baby.” She couldn’t relax when she couldn’t see him. “What are you— Ah!” He drizzled something warm and wet all over her ass. “What is that?” “Lubrication. This first time with us both is going to burn, but you’ll never want it another way after this.” She felt Wyatt’s erection press against her tiny back hole and struggled. At the same time? She’d rip in two. They were both so big she could barely take them one at a time. “Wyatt, no. It won’t fit.” “Shh,” Wyatt said and didn’t slow as he pushed the tip of his cock against her puckered entrance. “This is what you want, remember?” “And last night you wouldn’t give it to me.” “Today, all of that changes. Take us both, Trish. Take us both as your men, your lovers. You can take us, baby. I promise you. Just relax and push out for me.” She stilled and let out a breath, closing her eyes and trying not to panic. When the blunt head slipped past the tight ring, she screamed and bucked. The burn ripped through her and sent her into an

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immediate, blinding orgasm. “Help me!” She screamed again when Mitch rocked his hips, slowly sinking his flesh into hers as Wyatt worked his in. Her climax had her bucking, helping her men deeper and deeper. Inch by inch, groan by groan, Wyatt sank into her ass as Mitch pulled out. Her orgasm left her panting and whimpering. She’d never felt such a sensation as being fucked by two men at the same time. Wyatt was right. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She had fantasized about this but had never imagined it would feel like this. “Easy, baby.” Wyatt fisted her hair and held her still as he slowly moved in an offset to Mitch’s movements. The rate of his ragged breathing increased as he slipped in and out of her, stretching her tender muscles, burning her from the inside out. “That’s it, Trish. Relax. Just feel. Feel me, feel Mitch. Scream as loud as you want, baby. Tell the world that you belong to us.” “Wyatt,” she whimpered, on the verge of tears. This was too much, too close. She’d never felt closer to either of them, or all of them together. “Just feel,” he rasped in that dominant voice of his. Wyatt released her hair at the same time that Mitch weaved both hands into the thick mass and pulled her to his lips. He used not only his lips, but his teeth, his tongue, and his talent at kissing to completely devour her. He bit. He licked. He playfully nipped. But then he opened his mouth and invited her into the kiss fully, and she was gone. The sensation of Wyatt in her ass, Mitch buried in her cunt, and now having him consume her struck her so hard, so sudden, that tears swelled in her eyes. The pleasure these two men brought her, both physically and emotionally, weakened her resolve. If either one of them asked her to jump off the tallest bluff, she would. She was theirs. Both of them. Lost in their touch, in their love, she moved her hips to drive their

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cocks in and out of her at a steady pace. “That’s it, baby.” Wyatt ran his hands along her back. “Fuck us, just like that. Set the pace and love us.” Trish arched her back and rocked her hips, the liquid pleasure burning through her, bubbling just below the skin. She needed them both to fulfill her, to complete her. And they were doing that now. With them, she was born again. She bucked wildly as another orgasm snuck up on her and hovered just out of reach. She rolled her hips, driving one deep while withdrawing another, the hint of her release sizzling up her spine. The wicked pleasure ripped through her body, setting her blood on fire. The feral orgasm clawed at her insides, coiling around her womb and taunting her. She needed more. She had to have them both, at the same time, to take her over the edge. Sweat tricked down her spine, tickling her, arousing her. Mitch’s coarse hairs brushed against her sensitive clit and pushed her that much higher. She rolled her hips to gain more friction. Harder. Faster. She needed more. She needed it all. Mitch pulsed inside her. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into her hips to hold her still, but she couldn’t stop. She was so close, so very close. “Shit. Jesus, hell. Fuck me!” Mitch hollered out in his release as he pumped his hips hard, slamming into her and sending her to the sun. She threw her head back and screamed as the cataclysmic orgasm slammed into her, shattering her bones and destroying her control. Wyatt moved his hips faster and buried his thick cock inside her rear, over and over, as he drove closer to his own release. The hard invasion swelled as he closed in on his climax. Wyatt growled like a wild beast. “Yes, Trish. So fucking hot. I love—ah!” He shouted out her name as his orgasm took over, and she screamed again, not because of the amazing feeling of taking him in one of the most intimate ways possible, but because his release cut off

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what he was going to say. Trish fell lax against Mitch’s chest and twitched as Wyatt slowly pulled out of her. Once free from the invasion, she rolled to her back and stared up at Wyatt. “Wow.” “Told you.” He grinned and offered a debilitating wink that sent a shiver whispering over her overly sensitive skin. “Fuck, yeah!” Mitch shot a fist into the air. They all laughed, and Trish scooted closer to him to give Wyatt room next to her, where he belonged. She closed her eyes and basked in the afterglow, the heat of the afternoon brushing over her body, warming her even more. It felt amazing. “Was that my surprise?” “Oh, shit.” Mitch sat up and opened the basket, pulling out a bucket of water with a few ice cubes floating in it, a bottle of whiskey submerged in it. “It’s still cold.” “Whiskey?” She sat up and frowned. “It’s barely afternoon.” “Good enough for me.” Wyatt reached in the basket and pulled out plastic cups. “Although I thought we agreed on champagne.” “It’s all I had.” Mitch shrugged and grinned. Wyatt shook his head and took the bottle, poured three drinks, and placed it back in the bucket. Trish took her glass. “I prefer whiskey anyway. What are we celebrating?” “Not celebrating,” Mitch explained. “More like relaxing,” Wyatt added. Trish smiled and let out a content sigh. They used to finish each other’s thoughts like that when they were kids, before they’d started fighting over her. To see them talking to each other again like old times warmed her heart. “I’m pretty relaxed.” She sipped at her whiskey, loving the burn as it traveled down her throat. “Just wait.” Mitch brought his cup to his lips as Trish shot him a confused look. He turned his attention to Wyatt. “You tell her.”

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“Chicken shit.” “Yep.” Mitch grinned. Trish turned to Wyatt, no longer relaxed. They actually got along, and they never got along. These two were up to something. “We think we’ve found the missing calves.” She sat up straight. “Really? Where?” “Dutch Barkus’s place.” Oh no. Oh, hell no. If Gramps caught wind of that he’d go after Dutch himself. “Do you have proof?” “Well, Mitch and I can get into the back side of his property to check if Dutch was somehow”—he paused and grazed her with his blue gaze—“distracted.” That didn’t sound good. “What, exactly, is it you want me to do?” Wyatt grunted as he arched a brow. “When was the last time you played the damsel in distress?”

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Chapter 12 “This is stupid. How in the hell did I let you talk me into this? What if he catches on? What if he hurts her?” Wyatt rolled his eyes as Mitch paced, firing off question after question. “We’ll be right there.” “The hell we will. We’ll be clear in the back forty looking for our calves and in the dark. Wyatt, this isn’t going to work. We raise black angus, for Christ’s sake. There is no way we’ll be able to see them in the dark.” “Fine, go to the house with Trish and see how well Dutch responds to her not being alone. I’ll look for the calves on my own.” He stopped and shoved his fingers through his hair. “What if we find them? What then? Do we call the police?” “We won’t have to.” He saw Carol with Matt earlier. If they weren’t already in a compromising position, Wyatt just may be able to call in a favor. He grabbed the radio off his belt. “Matt, you got a copy?” “Yeah, this is Matt. What’s up?” “What are you and Carol doing?” Matt laughed. “Right now? Or in general?” Wyatt squeezed the radio to stop himself from telling Matt what exactly he could do right now. Goddamn his little brother and his not taking a damn thing seriously. “Matt, you’re being an ass,” Carol’s voice sounded from the other end. “Thank you, Carol. What are you doing tonight?” “What do you think?” Matt laughed again when Carol said

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something Wyatt didn’t catch, nor did he want to. “Can I borrow Carol?” “Hell, no. I already had to chase Michael away. Besides, aren’t you chasing after Trish like a horny bull?” Wyatt shot a look at Mitch, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. Wyatt narrowed his eyes as Mitch simply shrugged. “What? It’s true. We both are.” He growled deep in the back of his throat as he pulled the radio up, but then stopped. These were off-the-shelf two-way radios. He couldn’t guarantee they were secure, and for his request, he really didn’t want anyone else listening in. “I’m gonna give you a call on your cell.” “Wyatt?” Matt answered on the first ring. “What’s going on?” “I think we found our missing head.” “We?” “Mitch and I paid Dutch Barkus a little visit today.” Matt paused and then asked, “Since when are you and Mitch such buddies? I thought you hated him.” “Can we please talk about our cattle?” He didn’t want to talk to Matt or anyone else about the wasted years between Trish, Mitch, and him. It churned in his gut to know they could have been something more than enemies before now. “So let’s go get them.” Wyatt pinched the skin between his eyes. “We didn’t actually see our calves, but I’m sure they’re there.” “How are you sure?” “Gut instinct.” “Are you shitting me? That’s what you’re going on, your gut?” “Listen, we’ve got Trish ready to distract Dutch enough for us to check it out.” “Wyatt, you can’t do that. You’ve had some pretty stupid ideas in the past, but this one beats them hands down. And what’s worse, you’re dragging Trish into your delusional plan. Did you learn

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nothing with what happened with Strickler?” Goddamn it. “That wasn’t entirely my fault. That guy was a professional con man.” “Yeah, and you remember what happened with him. That was a bad plan. This is worse.” “What’s so wrong with it?” He thought it was a good plan and didn’t appreciate his brother seeing it as anything different. Matt laughed in that condescending tone of his. “For starters, it’s illegal.” “The hell it is.” “It’s called trespassing. Look it up.” Screw it. He didn’t need Matt’s approval, and he sure as hell didn’t need his lecture. “Forget I said anything.” “Believe me, I’d love to, but I can’t now. Tell me what this brilliant plan is and what part you need me and Carol for.” “Trish is going to keep Dutch occupied while Mitch and I check for our cattle.” “And if you find them? Then what?” “That’s where I was hoping Carol would come in.” Wyatt heard Matt’s muffled voice, no doubt as he explained the plan to Carol. “Okay, here’s the deal. Before we do anything, Carol says we need to file a police report on the missing cattle. Then the police can get involved. Without that report, they can’t to a damn thing.” “By the time we get through all the paperwork, Dutch will have sold them off and you know it.” “Wyatt, it’s the law.” “It’s bullshit. Dutch has an army of lawyers. If we try to use the law to get our cattle back, he’ll just find another way to fuck us. This has got to end.” “Don’t go do anything stupid.” “Hey, Wyatt? Trish is here.” Mitch stopped pacing long enough to nod at the back patio doors.

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Wyatt turned and damn near dropped the phone. True to the role they’d asked her to play, Trish had on an indecent dress, cut too low and riding too high. Perfect. The way the tops of her ripe breasts gave her cleavage to spare would definitely hold Dutch’s attention, and if that didn’t work, the fact that the curve of Trish’s pretty ass peeked just below the hem would have him panting. It definitely had Wyatt distracted. “Uh, Wyatt?” Matt sounded from the other end of the line. “You still with me?” “I gotta go.” He closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, the whole while never taking his eyes off the sexy blonde with blue eyes that would hold any man captive. “You look…” “Stupid,” she finished with a shrug. “I know. I didn’t even know I still had this dress. I haven’t worn it since I was like twelve.” “That wasn’t the ‘S’ word I had on my mind.” Mitch walked over and kissed her on the cheek, letting his lips linger as he brushed them along her jaw before attacking the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I was thinking more like sexy, sultry, seductive.” Wyatt was at a loss for words. She smiled and brushed her hair behind her ear, giving Mitch access to her neck. As much as Wyatt would love to join in, they had a job to do. “Are we ready?” Wyatt already had a case of blue balls and was going to have to lift a car to ease the pain in his groin at how hard he’d grown just from the sight of her. “No.” She laughed, and the sound floated into his ears, leaving him breathless. “But let’s do it.” Wyatt went to her side. “I’ll drive us out there.” She pulled a set of keys from somewhere inside her dress and bumped him aside with a swing of her hips. “I don’t think so, cowboy. I’m driving. It’s my dilemma I’m the star of, right? Time to see if any of those acting classes I took at the community college were

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worth the money.” “You wanted to be an actress?” She looked at him and batted those big blue eyes. “Briefly.” “And what is it you want to be now?” He took a step toward her, his dick surging and his resistance crumbling. Tears filled her wide eyes, and her lower lip quivered. His heart pinched. Holy shit. What did he say? “Baby, what is it?” Mitch brushed her hair back with one hand while wrapping his arm around her middle to pull her to him. Trish sniffled and pulled tissue out from between her breasts. “Well, I’ve just lost my job, and then I go home to find my boyfriend in bed with my best friend. All I wanted to do was go for a drive to clear my head and my truck breaks down. It’s like the entire world is against me.” She blinked and large tears streamed down her face. “Won’t you please help me?” “She’s good,” Mitch said with a nod and let out a breath. Wyatt nearly had a stroke from thinking he’d caused those tears. He didn’t know whether to be grateful for her being such a gifted actress, or get pissed at her for making him think he’d hurt her. “Get that sweet ass in the truck before I fuck it for nearly giving me a heart attack. I thought you were really upset.” The sly grin she offered them both had Wyatt debating whether to take care of Dutch later. Right now, if she looked at him like that again, like she wanted to devour him from head to toe, he’d pull her into the closest playroom and fuck it out of her. “Show me an ounce of kindness and I may just want to stick around.” She ran her tongue along her upper lip. Mitch groaned. Wyatt clenched his teeth. “Turn it down a notch and lose the southern accent. This is Montana, not Texas.” Grinning, she shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do. Men do love a woman with a southern drawl.” “Dutch is from Texas. He’ll know it’s fake.” Mitch opened the

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door and motioned for them to leave. “Okay, okay.” She followed Mitch out, Wyatt behind her. Once again she was between them, where she belonged. “Oh, shit. I bet I messed up my makeup with the little crying game.” “Leave it,” Wyatt told her. “It’s more believable that you’ve been crying. Plus it will make Dutch less likely to suspect anything if you look vulnerable.” “You got it.” “When this is over,” Wyatt growled, unable to pull his gaze away from the sexy curve of her ass, “never wear this dress again. If you do, you’ll never leave the house.” She glanced over her shoulder, her brilliant blue eyes shining. “That’s fine with me, as long you two are my captors.” Wyatt chuckled deep in the back of his throat. “That could be arranged.” **** He hated this. As they pulled up in the darkness just down the road from Dutch Barkus’s place, Mitch wanted to jump behind the wheel and peel them out of there. He didn’t want Trish anywhere near the bastard. Mitch just didn’t trust him. Trish pulled in a breath and held it. He could feel her nerves. They were contagious. Although he would rather she was safe inside her home, his home, the GR&L, or anywhere else, he reached for her to reassure her about the plan. “You only need to keep him occupied,” he told her as he took her hand and met her wavering gaze. “No contact in any way. Got it?” She nodded. “Take those nerves and use them to help you stay focused,” Wyatt said and stepped out of the truck. He lifted the hood and reached underneath. “There. These old trucks are carbureted. All it takes is a little adjustment to the idle mixture and you are out of business. This

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way if Dutch wants to check the truck, he’ll see she is telling the truth about it breaking down.” Trish let out a harsh breath and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Do you seriously think I wouldn’t know how to fix that? Come on, every kid who’s grown up on a ranch knows how to fix a carburetor.” Wyatt slammed the hood. “Dutch doesn’t have to know you grew up around here. The less you tell him, the better. You ready?” “As I’ll ever be.” Mitch wasn’t ready. He’d never be ready for something this crazy. But instead of protesting the way he should, he stayed close to Trish’s side as they walked up the road and stopped at the start of Dutch’s driveway. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He hesitated before dropping his hands from her shoulders. She met his eyes without hesitation. “This man is stealing from us, Mitch. What I want is irrelevant.” The woman never ceased to amaze him. Her stubborn pride would get her into trouble someday, but for now he welcomed it. She drew in a deep breath and shook out her hair as she thrust out her chin. As she swayed her hips walking forward, Wyatt’s voice stopped her. “Less attitude, Trish. More vulnerability. Remember, your boyfriend just ripped out your heart.” She stiffened and turned back to face them. “And which one of you fucked Delores Doolittle?” “Who?” The men asked in unison. “She was my best friend in high school. Whose ass am I kicking when I get back?” They exchanged looks and both grinned. “You’ll have to come back to get your answer,” Wyatt told her. “That’s right,” Mitch added. “We don’t kiss and tell.” “We?” She picked up on that right away, damn her.

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Mitch grinned at the spark of intrigue glowing in her eyes. He took a breath to say something but stopped when Dutch’s porch light came on. Wyatt nodded at the house. “You’re on, sweetheart.” She turned and stumbled in her heels, but caught herself and sashayed up to the house. Mitch and Wyatt stood there, hidden by the darkness, both holding their breath, until she disappeared inside the house. “Let’s go,” Wyatt said and kept to the edge of the property. Mitch followed him, mirroring his hunkered-down stance, as they snuck around the house and into the field. “Now what?” “Now we look for our calves.” Easier said than done. It was a moonless night, clear as a bell, not an ounce of light available to help them see a damn thing. They couldn’t use flashlights and risk being seen. “How are we going to do that? The moms will not let us close to their calves.” “The ones we are looking for don’t have mamas over here,” Wyatt said in a whisper. “They’re going to be crying for them.” “So why haven’t we heard them?” They both paused and looked at each other. “Unless…” Wyatt picked up where Mitch left off. “He’s got them hidden. We’re looking for a building big enough to house cattle.” “That son of a bitch.” Mitch looked around, wondering which outbuilding to search first. If Dutch really did steal the calves, they’d need to be bottle-fed. None of Mitch’s calves were weaned, yet. “Are yours weaned?” “No. We had a late calving season this year due to the hard winter.” “Then we’re looking for a building with power. Dutch would need some way to feed all those calves.”

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Wyatt nodded. “Power means close enough to the house. Over here.” Mitch followed him to a building close enough to the house to feed power to it but far enough away from the opposite fence line that no one else would hear the babies cry. Wyatt threw the sliding door open, and they both froze. It was empty. “Goddamn it!” Mitch doubled up his fist to punch something. “Wait,” Wyatt said and put up his hand. “Do you hear that?” Mitch held his breath and listened. There, in the stillness of the night, Mitch heard a weak cry. His gut clenched when his first thought was Trish in there with that douche bag, but then he listened closer and realized it was the bleat of a baby crying for its mother. Wyatt tapped at the wall and entered the building, using his hands to follow the walls. Mitch didn’t have a clue why he did that and simply walked forward. And ran into a wall that shouldn’t be there. “What the—” “It’s a false wall,” Wyatt said, tapping on it. As soon as he did, the cries of the calves became more pronounced. “Help me with this.” They both felt around on the wall until Mitch’s fingers slipped into a groove. He felt a switch and flipped it, and something clicked. The wall parted in the middle and swung open loosely. Mitch squinted as the light in the room temporarily blinded him. “Holy shit,” he muttered as he glanced around the room. There had to be a hundred head in here. “Where did he get all of these?” “Check this out.” Wyatt knelt down next to a calf and touched its hide. “This is a fresh brand, maybe less than three weeks. Look at the way the scab hasn’t even started to peel.” “Son of a bitch,” Mitch muttered. “I’ve always hated his brand. A D with wings, seriously? He couldn’t come up with a more masculine branding for the Flying Dutchman?” “And a cursive D to boot.”

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“Let’s keep looking.” They moved down the line until Wyatt saw something that stopped him in his tracks. “Popeye.” “Come again?” “How you doing, little guy?” He knelt down next to a cow with only one eye and a lame front leg. Reaching up, he ran his hand up and down the tiny calf’s nose. “Maa,” the baby cried. “I know, buddy. We’ll get you out of here.” “Uh, Wyatt? Care to clue me in?” It was a lame cow that wouldn’t make it through the first winter. Any smart rancher would have gotten rid of it. Why keep something that would only cost money and would never be a solid return of the investment? “This is Popeye. He’s less than a week old. I remember him distinctly because we had a hell of a time with him. The stubborn little bastard didn’t want out of his mama. Barrett, Chris, and I stayed up most of the night with her until she gave birth. He was too small, too weak, and the mom had to be put down. It was too much on her. But Sarah took one look at him and refused to let us get rid of him. She named him Popeye and has been bottle-feeding him.” He looked around at the other babies as they all started to cry louder, his hand still smoothing the hide on the little calf’s nose. “He couldn’t have been missing more than a day or Sarah would know. He’s already wandered off once, and she had the entire ranch at a standstill until we found him again. He’s not branded.” “Neither is this entire line,” Mitch pointed out. “Or this one.” Wyatt looked at Mitch, murder flashing in his eyes. “He’s branding our calves. There’s nothing we can do to prove they’re ours without a DNA test, and there is no way we can afford that. There’s nothing stopping this guy.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” Mitch corrected. “We’ll stop him.”

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Chapter 13 “Are you sure you wouldn’t like another drink?” Dutch held the bottle of brandy up, and before she said no once again, he poured her a third glass. She’d never had brandy before and had to say, she didn’t care much for it. Then again, she didn’t care much for the company, either. “Thank you so much for your kindness, Mr. Barkus.” “Dutch, please. I insist.” He scooted closer to her on the couch, and it took all the strength she had not to get up and walk out. Stall. Stall, stall, stall. “So tell me what brought you to Montana, Dutch?” She pretended to sip at the brandy, allowing the sweet liquid to hover at her lips but never quite allowing it into her mouth. She then glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “Because I know you aren’t from around here.” “What makes you think that?” He moved an inch closer, his beady black eyes narrowing in on her. His pointy nose matched his pointy chin, and the brown hair he kept perfectly groomed looked like it came from a bottle. She’d never met a man who dyed his hair before. “The men around here are…” Sexy. Irresistible. One hundred percent dedicated to what they love. “Dirty heathens who pay no mind to the women?” He thinned his lips into a creepy grin. “Exactly,” she lied. Come on, guys. Hurry your asses up. “And you aren’t anything like that, are you?” “I assure you, darlin’, I am anything but.” Could his accent be any more fake? She’d met plenty of southern cowboys, and Dutch Barkus was nothing more than a poseur—a

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poseur with no morals, to boot. She swept her gaze around the room to avoid having to look at him. “You have a very impressive house.” Another inch. “I have a very impressive everything.” She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. How pathetic. This man actually thought using a cheesy line on her like that would work. She forced a giggle and prayed it didn’t sound as forced as it was. “Why, Dutch. You are such a tease.” “I assure you, I’m not.” He reached over and took her drink from her hand, using the action to scoot close enough so that his thigh rested against hers. Along with the want to throw up a little bit, or even a lot, she fought back the need to knee him in his balls. He took her hands in his and squeezed. “Stay here tonight. Let me show you that not all men are like this boyfriend of yours, who must surely be blind to stray from a woman as beautiful as you.” Coming from any other man, it would have sounded sincere. Coming from Dutch Barkus it only made her hate him more. Could he be any shallower? “I don’t know.” She hesitated and debated whether to find a way to reach into her bra, grab her phone, and text Wyatt the 9-1-1 sign they’d agreed to if she needed help. “What would you think of me in the morning?” “Pay no mind to the morning. It’s what I think of you right now that matters, and right now you are here, I am here, and it’s clear what we want.” What you want, maybe. Faking a sudden sneeze, she turned from him and grabbed her phone in the same motion, carefully holding it behind her back. Having planned ahead, she already had the text ready to go. One touch, one stray of his fingers, and she’d hit send. “Bless you.” “I hope I’m not catching a cold, you know, from having to walk so far in the middle of the night.”

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Dutch glanced at the shiny watch he pulled out of his pocket. A pocket watch? Seriously? Who still wore those? “It’s not even eleven, my peach. The night is still young.” She’d like to kick him in the peaches. “How about you let me comfort you with a massage? I’m very good with my hands.” He enclosed her hand in his. She pulled away and then ran her finger along the back of his hand. “I don’t know. Look at your hands. They’ve hardly seen a hard day’s work.” As soon as she said it, she knew she’d made a mistake. His expression hardened as he grabbed her hand again, this time hard, as hard as the look in his steely eyes. “What was that?” She forced a smile, but inside she wanted to cry, her fear taking over her reasoning. He was hurting her. She gripped her cell phone behind her back and hovered her thumb over the send button. “I was just admiring your hands.” “No.” He tightened his grip on her hand and jerked her toward him. “You mentioned my hands. I distinctly remember someone else in this valley mentioning something about my hands.” “You have nice hands.” Oh, dear Jesus. Her heart thudded in her ears. Why did this guy have such an issue with his hands? “How do you know the Gideons? What about that Mitch Brown? Are you three trying to pull something?” Send, send, send. She hit the send button over and over and drew in a breath, not sure whether to draw the line or to let him actually touch her. She’d never be able to scrub enough skin off to remove his filth. Thank God she didn’t have to find out. “Where is she!” Wyatt threw open the front door and set his square jaw as he nailed her with a glare. “You. What the hell are you doing whoring around with the likes of this asshole?” Her mouth fell open as she gasped at his insult. She jumped to her

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feet, ready to kill him with her bare hands. “How dare you!” Wyatt marched into the house and didn’t stop until he had his hand around her wrist. He pushed her toward the door. “Get your ass home before I beat it.” She jerked her arm out of his grasp and glared at him, her eyes burning with a newfound hatred for any man who’d dare talk to her like this. Act or not, he would know to never talk to her like this again. “Screw you.” “Were you so desperate to get back at me that you had to go out and fuck the one man I’d kill over you?” She reached up and slapped him across the face. He grabbed her wrist again and snarled. “Do that again and I’ll make you kiss it and make it all better.” “He’s the boyfriend?” Dutch scrambled up off the couch and over to the corner of the room. “I’ll never kiss you again.” “Care to make a wager on that, sweetheart?” He slammed his lips to hers in a possessive, no-nonsense kiss. It didn’t feel like Wyatt kissing her, but then again it wasn’t supposed to. This was her boyfriend, the one who’d slept with her best friend. Wyatt would never do that to her. “Now that I know who I’m dealing with,” Dutch said in a shaky voice, “I must ask you to leave.” She turned to Dutch and feigned the best shocked look she could. “Oh, please. Don’t make me leave with him. He’s crazy.” “Don’t overdo it,” Wyatt whispered behind her. “I’m sorry, my dear. I agree with you. I do believe he’s gone mad, but I want nothing to do with it. Now leave.” His black eyes were wide. He pointed at the open door with a shaky finger. “Some gentleman you turned out to be.” She whipped around and flipped her hair as she stormed out of the house. “Don’t you walk away from me,” Wyatt yelled after her, and they

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both hurried down the driveway until they were safely hidden in the darkness of the night. And then they both laughed. She took his hand and weaved her fingers with his. “Do you think he bought it?” “I think you were almost ready to buy it, so yeah, I think we pulled it off.” “Word to the wise,” she said and smiled as they reached the truck. “Ever talk to me like that for real and I will use your balls for target practice.” Mitch closed the hood and grinned at her before flicking a knowing glance at Wyatt. “I’d listen to her, dude. She’s scary when she has that look in her eye.” “I have no doubt she’d try.” Wyatt brought his hands up and turned when Trish doubled up her fist and slugged him in the arm. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, enveloping her in a comforting hug. “Well?” Wyatt grinned. “We found them.” “Holy shit! It actually worked.” She laughed and hugged him. “Should we tell Gramps?” She shook her head and looked at Mitch. “He has enough to deal with. Let’s just find a way to get our cattle back without involving him, okay?” “Okay,” Mitch said with a nod. Wyatt remained silent, and it bothered the hell out of her. But then he kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer, and she let it go. “You okay?” “I will be.” Wyatt frowned at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She wiggled her brows. “With all this excitement of the night, I need to let off a little steam. What do you say, cowboys?”

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Chapter 14 “Your place or mine?” Mitch asked as they drew close to their cluster of ranches. He didn’t care where he took them so long as the three of them were together. “Never say that to me again,” Wyatt lobbed back, a crazy grin on his face. Mitch never thought he’d ever believe it possible, but somehow the three of them had found “it” once again. They’d been inseparable as kids and were the best of friends. With one weekend and a hell of a lot of internal reflection, Mitch realized they’d never really lost that. It was simply misplaced. The loneliness consuming Mitch’s life came close to destroying him. In a way, as corny as it sounded, the three of them back together saved him. Now that he had Trish and Wyatt by his side, he felt blessed. He’d never been one to pray or believe in much of the hereafter, but having the three of them together again was nothing short of a miracle. Trish leaned into Wyatt and closed her eyes, and a surge of jealousy shot through Mitch’s system. Although the excitement of spending another night at the GR&L and at the next round of toys they’d get to experience on her taunted him, he really just wanted a night alone with Trish and Wyatt. The stress of the night had worn him out. “Can we go to Mitch’s? I don’t want to explain to Gramps where I’ve been, and I really don’t want to be handcuffed again.” “I don’t have any of the cool little gadgets Wyatt has at the GR&L. Are you okay with that?” Mitch looked at her and held his

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breath. “As long as I have the both of you, I’m good.” Mitch pulled the truck up to his house and shut off the engine. “You’ll always have me, baby.” “Kiss ass.” Wyatt jumped out of the truck and held out his hand to help Trish. She took it, and as she scooted on the bench seat, her dress came up around her hips. He wiggled his brow as his gaze dropped to the hem, now up around her hips. “Well, well, well. Ready for another round?” Before Trish could fire off a comeback, excitement surged through Mitch when Wyatt pulled her the rest of the way. He jerked her toward him so that she had no choice but to open her legs and let him nudge up between them. His hands gripped her hips as his gaze landed on her. Mitch climbed across the seat of the truck until he reached his prize. Trish’s skin felt like silk beneath his fingertips. He leaned forward and pulled the elastic back of the top of her dress off her shoulder to press his lips against her flesh. Her taste intoxicated him and launched sharp spikes of blistering lust to his already tight balls. He wanted to take her slow, to bury himself so deep inside her that they wouldn’t be able to tell where she ended and he began. She hissed in a sharp breath when Mitch playfully nipped at her shoulder. “We should go inside.” “No,” Wyatt said with a shake of his head. “We should stay out here. Let’s put these bench seats to good use.” “Believe it or not,” she stated in a breathless rasp, “I’ve never done it in a vehicle before.” “There’s a first time for everything,” Mitch said and licked her skin where he’d scraped his teeth across her flesh. “But how—” “Shh.” Wyatt brought his finger up and placed it against her lips. “How about we just go with it and see what happens?” “I happen to know bench seats fit three people very nicely,” Mitch

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said, lost in her smell, her taste, her everything. Trish whipped around and looked at him, the passion clouding her eyes growing into something hard. He knew better than to ignore that look. “What?” Trish pushed Wyatt back and hopped down out of the truck to rush around and charge Mitch, clearly pissed. “You’ve been in a ménage before?” He exited the truck, brought his arms up and backed away, baffled at her sudden mood change. “It was years ago. These two gals were fighting to see who got to bring me home. I hated to see them have to choose, so I took them home with me instead.” “You are such a goddamn hypocrite,” Wyatt barked, fires of fury blazing in his eyes. “It was one night. What’s the big deal?” Mitch backed away as both Trish and Wyatt charged him. What the hell? “The big deal is that you passed judgment on me like I was some immoral person for believing there could be love outside the norm. The big deal is that you threw a hissy fit when Trish so much as mentioned a ménage between the three of us. The big fucking deal is that you hurt Trish by making her feel like what she wanted was wrong.” Mitch stared at them both in confusion. Tears filled Trish’s eyes, and when her lower lip trembled, he reached for her. She took a step away, and it destroyed him. “It was one time.” “You blew it,” Wyatt told him and shook his head, the disappointment clear in his gaze. “That trust we’d just started to build back up between us is gone. It’s fucking gone, man.” “Oh, my God. Are you serious? So I brought a couple women home one time. One time! We were drunk, for Christ's sake. If you must know, nothing actually happened." "Excuse me?" "The girls were more into each other. I got to watch." Mitch

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shrugged as the final punctuation to his statement." Wyatt snarled. "That doesn't change a goddamn thing. You lied to us." That did it. He refused to let Wyatt have the upper hand yet again and degrade him in front of Trish. “You fuck people for a living, Wyatt. They pay you. You are nothing more than a male prostitute, so don’t stand there and act like what I did was some betrayal of trust.” He knew it was coming, but when Wyatt’s fist slammed into Mitch’s cheek, the explosion of pain sent him staggering back. He charged Wyatt and tackled him, and they both tumbled to the ground. Mitch got off one good shot, connecting his fist with Wyatt’s jaw, before Wyatt overpowered him and threw him down, pinning him with the weight of his body. He blocked the left fist, but didn’t recover fast enough for the right. Stars burst in his vision when Wyatt punched him in the temple. The entire world started to spin, and it really pissed him off that Wyatt doubled his fist back up to hit him again. “Stop it!” Trish screamed and pulled at Wyatt, but he had murder in his eyes. “Wyatt, my God. Stop!” Wyatt pushed Trish back, and she stumbled, lost her footing in those ridiculous heels, and went down. And Mitch saw red. “Goddamn you!” He threw Wyatt off and charged him in one move, ready to kill him for so much as raising a hand to Trish. He threw punch after punch, connecting most of them to Wyatt’s face. Wyatt did his fair share of damage, too. Everything hurt on Mitch, but he refused to stop. This time he’d win. This time Wyatt would go down. They were both so centered on kicking the shit out of the other that they didn’t see Trish move up next to them, the garden hose in her hand. The spray of icy water stole the air from Mitch’s lungs. He scrambled away from the offending liquid, as did Wyatt, and they

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finally parted. Now sopping wet and panting to catch his breath, Mitch swung a glare up at Trish. She cocked her hip out and gave him an I-dare-you-to-saysomething look. With the nozzle in her hand like a gun, she held it on them, ready to pull the trigger at a moment’s notice. **** Wyatt attempted to stand, and she sprayed him. “What the hell?” “Stay down,” she ordered and turned the hose on Mitch. He didn’t move. “Both of you, just stay where you are and hear me out.” No doubt fearing another dousing from the hose, Mitch froze and waited. He glanced over at Wyatt, who hadn’t moved again. She sprayed them again for good measure. Wyatt and Mitch exchanged glances, and she knew she was in trouble. At once they both jumped to their feet and charged her, Wyatt holding her while Mitch took the hose from her. She struggled to break free, but with Wyatt being wet and the ground now a muddy mess, her attempts were futile. “Do you know what happens to subs who challenge their Dom?” Wyatt’s voice throbbed with command and a need almost desperate in its tone. She shook her head, suddenly at a loss for words. Wyatt gave her a safe word, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember it, nor did she want to. Mitch’s eyes flared with the hunger of a man on the verge of an attack. His need grew in his dark gaze, and the heat from that need shuddered through her. He tossed the hose aside and chopped up the distance between them with his muscly legs. Taking her from Wyatt, he cupped her face and plunged his tongue into her mouth, commanding a kiss of such intensity it threatened to explode through her. The shadows of their fight faded, replaced with a trembling of need that had started to consume her.

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Wyatt pulled her wet dress up and over her head, breaking the kiss between her and Mitch. Dazed from the power of their contact, she stood there and watched as both Wyatt and Mitch undressed. “Right here?” She couldn’t help but pant as she took a step back away from them. “Right now,” Wyatt ordered back, and it wasn’t up for discussion. His tone, a strangled groan as his desperation for her sounded in his voice, ignited a flame inside her. It twisted and burned, melting her from the inside out. When Mitch approached her, a smile curled the corners of his sultry lips into the sexiest damn grin she’d ever seen on him. Dear God. When did he get such a dominant look about him? His dark eyes smoldered as his gaze touched her, caressed her, and connected them in a way she’d never felt before. “It’s my turn in that sweet ass, baby.” His grin widened. She parted her lips at the declaration, and he moved in, capturing her mouth with his. Her lips parted further, granting him access to stroke his tongue against hers. He kissed like a man on a mission, and she loved it. Wyatt moved behind her, running his hands along her wet, slippery back and whispering broken phrases of things to come tonight. She could hardly wait. “I love the feel of your skin,” Wyatt whispered and ran his tongue across her shoulder. “You’re silk, Trish. You are absolutely the most perfect thing there is.” She trembled against him—against both of them. Earlier behind the house was one thing, but this was another. This, right here, gave new meaning to their relationship. She couldn’t explain the reasons behind her epiphany, only that Mitch possessed her with his kiss and Wyatt let him, and it pulled them closer than ever. Gone was any uncertainty. Something snapped inside her, and she decided then and there that she no longer wanted to be the pretty girl

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who never had to say a thing to get what she wanted. She knew what she wanted, and they stood there surrounding her with their heat, and she wanted to give them everything. Pulling her lips from Mitch’s, she stepped back and studied her men. Her men. She liked the sound of that—loved it, actually. Taking the first step toward this new woman she wanted to be, she reached up and cupped her breasts, gauging their reaction as she pinched her nipples. “Ah, hell.” Mitch licked his lips. His hand went to his cock, and he slowly started to stroke. Wyatt remained silent and simply stared, his erection almost purple as it bobbed in front of him. “More,” Wyatt commanded. “What else are you willing to do for us?” “Whatever you want done,” she breathed. “But I want something in return.” Mitch’s hand stopped. “And that is?” “Say you love me. You don’t have to mean it, but I really just want to hear the words.” She hated how pathetic she sounded but couldn’t help it. Gramps didn’t say the L word. In all honesty, she hadn’t heard the L word from anyone other than her mother and grandmother, now dead over twenty years. Wyatt’s eyes clouded over as he took a step toward her, his heated gaze never leaving hers. He ran his fingers through her hair, gently scraping his nails against her scalp and sending a rush of violent chills prickling her skin. Still, his gaze never left hers. “Trish,” he whispered. “I’ve loved you since the day you purposely ran your bike into mine because I made the jump and you didn’t.” Oh, God. She remembered that. Partially laughing, partially crying, Trish smiled up at him. He meant it. She saw it in his eyes. “And I’ve been in love with you ever since you skinned your knee trying to make that same jump. You got right back up and refused to

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shed a tear.” Mitch moved up next to her and wiped a tear away with the pad of his hand. “Don’t cry, baby. No more competition. No more wondering who’s better.” “It’s the three of us,” Wyatt went on. “It’s always been the three of us. We love you.” “And I love you,” she whispered. “Both of you. Thank you. Thank you so much for giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.” “Oh, wait.” Mitch grinned. “There’s so much more.” And there was, so much more than she could have ever imagined. Wyatt took her into his arms and lowered her down into the mud, and she didn’t care. The cool sludge felt good against her heated flesh. The mud coated her hair and clung to her as Wyatt’s lips slanted over hers. She rolled on top of him and made sure he had his fair amount of mud covering him. “We love you,” Wyatt murmured as he planted heated kisses along her jawline. “Let us love you like this.” “Until the end of time,” Mitch groaned behind her. A sob lodged deep in her throat, and the sudden need to be filled by them, to complete this bond between the three of them, overtook her senses. She rolled her hips and sank down on Wyatt’s cock. Her head tipped back until it rested on Mitch’s shoulder. “Oh, God,” she cried out when she felt the head of Mitch’s erection nudge up against her tiny puckered hole. “Yes, please. Oh, please, Mitch. Give me all of you.” Mitch pressed into her back hole, working into her with smooth, even strokes. She cried out for someone to hold her as he broke through the tight ring in a slow, tender penetration. “Please! Someone help me!” Wyatt covered her lips with his, swallowing her cries of pleasure and matching her intensity with equal fervor. He loved her with his mouth so perfectly while Mitch lodged to the hilt inside her overly snug rear that tears sprang up in her eyes. “I love you,” Wyatt whispered as he tucked the head of his cock

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into her pussy. “God, Trish. I love you so much.” He pressed further, sliding his hard flesh deeper into the depths of her cunt. Mitch shifted, and a moan escaped Trish’s mouth, and Wyatt pushed inside her, burning her, stretching her. “So fucking perfect. You fit us perfectly, baby. Like a glove. I love you, Trish.” Mitch pushed in as Wyatt pulled out. It was too much. It was all too much. Wyatt declaring his love. Mitch declaring his love. Something this perfect never happened to people like her. Their stroking seemed in flawless unison, Wyatt burying his steely flesh inside her as Mitch withdrew, then vice versa. They shifted and rolled until Mitch was on his back in the mud. Wyatt took her leg and placed her ankle up on his shoulder as he mounted above her. And then they began to move faster. She screamed at their pace, wanting more, so much more. She whimpered, begging for them to give her everything. She needed everything. Wyatt drove into her at a demanding pace. It was rough, but that was exactly what she needed right now. She couldn’t stand to not have all of him. “More,” she pleaded. “Please, Wyatt. Give me all of you.” He plunged deep, and she felt him in her body, in her soul. She felt Mitch as he thrust hard as Wyatt pulled out. They completed her. And then she came harder than she’d ever come in her entire life. These men, these perfect beings loving her, thrust into her in hard strokes, seeking release and keeping her climax at its peak. Her orgasm dissolved her entire body until she had nothing left. Still, they gave her more. Wyatt stroked in and out, coordinated moves with Mitch, until they both moved in and out of her at the same time, both driven in their search. Mitch hollered behind her and stiffened. “Sweet Trish. I love

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you.” At the same time Wyatt slammed his cock deep inside her, and he shouted out, the word on his lips the sweetest one in the world. “Trish.”

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Chapter 15 “Three more calves missing,” Ed muttered and let out a curse. “How about you? How’d your head count turn out?” “Not well,” Mitch answered. “I’ve got about thirty-five calves missing.” “And I’ve got at least twenty missing. Where the hell did they all go?” Mitch and Wyatt exchanged glances. Wyatt wanted to tell Ed exactly where they’d gone. Mitch, on the other hand, wanted to keep it a secret from him. They’d argued about it for close to an hour before agreeing to at least talk to him. Trish wanted them to keep it from Ed, but it made more sense for all the ranchers to know. They could go to the police and get them involved. If all of the valley ranchers complained, someone was bound to listen. Trish would understand. Wyatt tested the waters to see how far Mitch would go to keep this whole thing a secret from Ed. “I know where they are.” “Wyatt,” Mitch warned, shaking his head. Ed stiffened. “I’ve been ranching since before the both of you were gleams in your daddy’s eye, so don’t you try to keep something like this from me. If you know where they are, tell me.” Wyatt had second thoughts. He knew that look in Ed’s eye. Trish had that same look in hers last night as she challenged them both with that damn hose. Solid and unrelenting determination. Jesus God, he really hoped Trish didn’t kick his ass for this. “Dutch has them,” Wyatt told him. “And you know that for certain?”

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Wyatt nodded. He knew what he saw. “Popeye—that’s what Sarah named him—was there, plain as day. He was only born with one eye, and Sarah had a soft spot for him. When Mitch and I were there last night, I saw him. We both did.” Ed nodded and seemed overly calm. “So now what?” “We brought this to you so that you’d sign the report.” Ed looked at Wyatt. “What report?” “We need to file a police report.” Even as he said it, Wyatt hated the idea. “And it’s the only way?” “It’s the only legal way.” Mitch shrugged when Wyatt shot him a glare. “I guess that’s it, then.” “It’s a start,” Wyatt explained and took a step to place himself between Ed and the door out of the kitchen toward the fields. Knowing Ed Armstrong, he’d take off and wouldn’t stop until he had Dutch Barkus on a skewer. Ed stood and started for the back door. Wyatt brought up his hands. Damn it. This was what he didn’t want to happen. “Ed, you can’t take him on yourself.” “I’m not an idiot. I’m going to church. I’ve gone to church for coming up on eighty-three years. You are not about to stop me.” Wyatt wanted to believe him, he really did, but Ed had been saying the oddest things lately. “Do you want one of us to come with you?” “Hell, no. I already have me the prettiest escort to church God ever did create.” Ed grinned as Trish walked into the kitchen in a simple white summer dress. On anyone else, it would have looked just fine. On Trish, it would cause a riot as soon as she left the house. She couldn’t wear that to church. Even the priest or whatever they were called at her church would think of leaving his congregation after seeing her in it.

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“Hey, baby.” Wyatt gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Heading off to church?” She lost her smile and whipped her gaze between Wyatt and Mitch. “I thought we were going to spend the day together.” “You’re gonna miss church?” Ed scowled at her. “Gramps, I’ll go twice next Sunday, I promise. Can’t I just have this one day?” “You do what you want to do, Grits. Never stopped you before.” He grabbed his hat off the back hook before turning and glaring at both Mitch and Wyatt. “You two better take damn good care of her. If I hear otherwise, I’m coming back for you.” “What do you mean, coming back?” Trish stepped forward. When he didn’t answer her and instead walked out of the house, she ran after him. “Gramps?” She came back in the house, a frown accenting the glare she wore. “What did you two do?” They exchanged glances and both said in unison, “Nothing.” “You’re up to something. What did you say to upset him?” Wyatt pulled her to him. “Don’t worry, baby. He’s just mad right now. Let him go and confess his sins or whatever he does at church. He’ll be back by lunch.” She let out a sigh and leaned against him. “I hope so. I’ve been so worried lately. Just yesterday he called me by my mother’s name.” Ah, hell. The pain and worry Trish must have been going through. Grandpa Gideon, or GG as everyone in the valley called him, never had the misfortune of being struck with dementia. He was as lucid as ever up until the day he fell over in the field, gone from a heart attack at eighty-eight years old. He lived every day as if it would be his last and taught the Gideon brothers to do the same. God, how he missed that man. “We’ll find a way to help him. I promise.” Mitch moved behind her and leaned his head against her shoulder. “You don’t have to take this on alone baby, not anymore.”

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“What if he does something stupid?” “He’s a grown man,” Wyatt reasoned. “He’s going to do what he wants.” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Trish let out a long breath. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back. For now, I’d rather not let it ruin my day. What do you want to do first?” “I know a place where we could have a little privacy.” Mitch wiggled his brows. “Maybe later. I’m a little sore from last night.” Trish laughed as gratification lingered in her expression. Wyatt ground his teeth to stop himself from apologizing. Seeing Trish like that last night, wet and muddy and having the time of her life, overrode his self-control. He fucked her with wild abandonment, concentrating on her pleasure and letting go of everything else. He and Mitch even played a little game of tag team, wrestling her down and holding her there while the other did wonderful, wicked things to her delicious body. Chuckling, Wyatt shook his head. It took him close to an hour in the shower to get all the mud out of places mud should never be. He had to admit, his cheeks still hurt from laughing so much. He’d never had that much fun. “How about we take a drive out to Rock Creek?” Mitch grinned and nodded like an excited kid. Trish dismissed the idea with a quick shake of her pretty head. “I want to be here when Gramps gets back. I’m really worried about him.” Mitch’s smile faded, and he looked like someone just told him there was no Santa. “We’d be back in time.” Trish shook her head again, and Wyatt saw the weight of her worries sobering her expression and draining the color from her lovely face. At twenty-eight, she should be out having fun like she did last night, not turning down a trip to the creek to sit around wracking her nerves about her aging grandfather.

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“How about this,” Wyatt started and took her hand to kiss her fingers. “We take a quick drive out there and check on the GR&L guests getting in last minute fly-fishing before they check out. I should at least check in and make sure everyone had a good time.” “I don’t know,” she said, her voice soft. “I have to go regardless.” Reluctantly, she nodded. “Fine, but we come right back.” “Of course.” Wyatt held out his hand as an invitation to walk out the back door with him. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down, and he stood there, watching the gesture, hunger coiling inside him in response. Sweet Jesus, have mercy, he couldn’t stop the burning he felt every time he saw her. Trish was an addiction to him, a drug that he’d never get enough of. But he wanted more than just sex with her. He wanted to spend time with her, laugh with her, talk with her. He wanted her in his life for more than the here and now. He knew Mitch felt the same way. They took one of the Escalades from the GR&L out to Rock Creek, a blue-ribbon trout stream and the most popular excursion the ranch offered. Not only did the guests try their odds at snagging a prize trout, they also got a chance to see one of the two world-famous herds of Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep. Wyatt pulled the Escalade up and parked it next to the other ranch vehicles. He spotted most of the male guests in the water, waders on, poles swinging as they cast their flies. The women, on the other hand, were on loungers, taking in the morning rays of the sun. “Wyatt!” Michael waved at him as he walked up. “Where’ve you been this weekend?” He then spotted Trish and Mitch. “Oh, never mind.” Wyatt rolled his eyes and ignored the shit-eating grin on his brother’s face. He turned his attention to the guests. “Did everyone have a good time this weekend?” There were lots of cheers from the women and satisfied grins from the men. Wyatt nodded. Good.

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“Coming back again?” More cheers, another good sign. “We’ll be having an open house this summer, so be sure to tell your friends. You, of course, are all invited.” He grinned wide when the guests all started to talk excitedly about the thought of an open house. He heard some of the women mention names of friends to each other, and even the men had a few suggestions. “Will you be back on the market by then?” Wyatt turned to see Peggy, a tall brunette who’d been to the ranch a few times and had had the pleasure of his company more than once. He took a breath to answer but stopped when he felt Trish slip her hand into his and squeeze. Hard. “I’m afraid I’m already taken, Peg. I won’t be on the menu again.” She thrust out her lower lip in an attempt to pout. “First Barrett, now you. Matt barely came out of his room the entire weekend, and when he did, he was attached at the hip to that woman.” “You still have Michael,” Wyatt pointed out. “There were a dozen women fighting over him this weekend. If you want us coming back, you’re going to have to get some new blood in here.” That made sense. The idea planted itself, and Wyatt knew what he needed to do. “I’ll see what I can do. Have a safe trip back, everyone. We’ll see you next time.” He waved and walked to the Escalade, Trish right next to him. She refused to let go of his hand, and damn it, he loved her possessiveness. Once they were inside the vehicle and had pulled out and were back on the road, only then did she release his hand. “What was that all about?” Trish tossed him a sideways glance, but didn’t answer. “I was going to hold your hand if she didn’t,” Mitch lobbed from the backseat. Wyatt looked at him in the rearview mirror. “You know, you really freak me out when you say things like that.”

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Mitch simply sat back, grinning. “You are done with the weekend ménages, right?” Trish asked, her big blue eyes wide, worried. “At the ranch, I mean. You aren’t going to dress in black again, are you?” He didn’t even have to think about his answer. It was something he’d known the first time he and Mitch shared Trish. “You have my pin. You have Mitch’s pin. We claimed you as ours. The way it works is that until you return our pins to us, you belong to us and only us. Just as you cannot seek out other Doms, we cannot seek out other subs to pin.” She sucked in a breath and visibly swallowed. “So, as long as I keep your pins, I belong to you and vice versa?” Pin or not, Trish belonged to him. Period. “You’re mine.” “And mine,” Mitch said and scooted forward to reach around the seat to touch her. “I don’t give a shit about some pin, Trish.” Of course. Mitch always had to one-up him. Trish, seemingly satisfied with their answers, settled into the seat with a content sigh. “Looks like it’s going to be another scorcher. We need this to dry out the fields.” “And to lower the water level in the rivers and creeks. Even in the shallowest part of Rock Creek it was still up to the hips when it’s usually barely at the ankles.” Wyatt thought about how the lower fields were still flooded and muttered a curse. They’d never get anything to grow there fast enough to harvest it before the snow hit again come September. They drove the rest of the way in silence. Wyatt pulled the vehicle up to the GR&L and parked it. “Do you want to have a bite to eat before we head back to your place?” Trish glanced at the radio clock. “Church got out twenty minutes ago. Gramps should be home.” “Do you want me to drive over there?” Wyatt pushed the key back into the ignition. “No, it’s just as quick to walk through the fence. Come on. Let’s

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just let him know we’re back so he doesn’t worry.” Wyatt and Mitch followed Trish through the hole in the fence and up to her house. She walked through the back door into the kitchen. “Gramps?” Nothing. Trish moved through the kitchen into the living room, glanced out the large front window, and frowned. “His truck is still gone.” “Maybe he’s just taking his time,” Mitch offered, but the look he shot Wyatt said something different entirely. He knew, just as Wyatt did, that something wasn’t right. “Why don’t we just take a quick drive into town and see if his truck is still at the church.” Wyatt turned to walk through the kitchen and out the back door, back to the GR&L. “I’m driving,” Trish stated, and her tone left nothing up for discussion. They all piled into her truck, and she fired off the loud, tired engine before pulling out and onto the gravel road that led to the main highway. She took the road way too fast, and Wyatt reached for her to calm her down. She’d end up killing them if she kept driving like this. “Baby, slow down.” “I’ll slow down when I find him.” She didn’t slow her pace until she pulled the truck up to the church. Her lower lip trembled as she jumped out and ran over to the building. “He’s not here. Wyatt, he’s not here!” “It’s okay,” he said and grabbed her hand. Damn, she was shaking. She jerked her hand back and opened the large double doors. “Pastor Ryan? Are you here?” A small, frail man came shuffling out from a back room. When he saw Trish, he grinned. “Well, at least one of you came. You’re late.” “What do you mean, one of us? Didn’t Gramps come to church today?” Pastor Ryan slowly shook his head. “I found that odd. Ed hasn’t

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missed a day of church since his heart surgery and before that, only after he lost Barb.” “Oh, no.” Trish ran out of the church. Wyatt nodded at the old man and hurried after Trish to catch her before she did something stupid. She had already slid behind the wheel and revved the engine. No way would he let her drive, not in the state she was in. “Move over,” he told her. She nailed him with a glare that had him physically step back. “Get in now or I leave you here.” He ran around to the other side and slid in next to Mitch. He hadn’t even shut the door behind him before she gunned the accelerator and sped off.

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Chapter 16 Mitch tensed as Trish barely missed yet another tree. Driving like a woman gone wild, she took the bumpy back road at a speed that should have been reserved for NASCAR. Still he said nothing. That look in her blazing blue eyes, telling him she wouldn’t slow until she found Gramps, kept him quiet. He didn’t want her unleashing any of that fury on him. She needed to keep her focus. She hit another washout, and the bump knocked them all off the bench seat. Mitch barely missed smacking his head against the metal ceiling of the truck. Wyatt, being taller, didn’t come out so lucky. Mitch didn’t bother hiding his grin when Wyatt let out a round of cusses and rubbed the top of his head. “Jesus, Trish. Are you trying to kill us?” “We have to get to Dutch’s before he does anything.” “Getting us there in one piece would be good,” he growled and checked his head for blood. “We can’t help Gramps if we’re dead.” “Quit your bellyaching.” She whipped the wheel to take a hard corner and put the truck up on two wheels. Even with that she powered through it and kept up her speed. “Maybe one of us should drive,” Mitch stated and clutched the dash when she turned the wheel for another corner and almost put the truck back up on two. “The hell you say. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t drive.” “You drive fine,” Wyatt said and grabbed the wheel when she almost hit a stump. “It’s the speed. Slow your ass down, Trish. We’ll

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get to him.” She let out a breath and slowed up, and Mitch’s heart finally landed back in his chest. “There it is,” Mitch said, pointing at the enormous mansion any rancher would envy, but would never live in. There was no practicality in a house that size. Not only would it be a bitch to heat in the winter, the owner would have to hire help just to clean it. Trish didn’t slow until she damn near drove up on the porch. Mitch jumped out to stop her from charging up the steps and knocking down the door. “Trish, wait!” But she ran up and pounded on the door. “Let me in, you son of a bitch.” “Grab her, Mitch.” Wyatt jumped out of the truck just as Mitch pulled Trish into his arms and away from the door. The door swung open, and there stood the devil of the valley. His beady black eyes assessed Trish slowly, a slithery smile oozing across his lips as he eyed her. “Did you two have another fight?” Dutch grinned at his own joke as he eyed Trish in her little white dress. He glanced at Mitch and then Wyatt. Thrusting out his chin, he thinned his lips, his amusement gone. “You’re at the wrong ranch. Ménages are two doors down, although I wouldn’t mind participating if Trish is offering.” Mitch stiffened and released Trish. He didn’t appreciate the way the man looked at her, not at all. He took a step toward Dutch and doubled up his fists. He’d knock that hungry look right off the son of a bitch’s face. “Where is he?” she demanded and pushed Mitch out of the way to face the man. “Where’s my grandfather?” Dutch easily lifted one of his perfectly groomed brows. No true rancher had the time or money to have eyebrows that flawless. “Haven’t seen him.” Trish took a step toward him, tense and ready to beat the answer

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out of him, but Wyatt stood on the side opposite Mitch, and together the men held her back. “What did you do to him, you bastard!” “Now Trish,” he soothed, not only patronizing her, but irritating the shit out of Mitch. How dare he talk down to her like that. “Is that any way for a lady to talk?” “I’ll show you how much of a lady I can be by kicking your ass.” She charged him, but the men stopped her. Breathing hard, she glared at him and tried to break free from their grasps when the asshole cocked his thin lips into a grin. She kicked and fought to break free. Just one hit and she’d have him knocked down flat. “We all know he’s been getting up there in years. I hear his dementia is getting worse. Perhaps he wandered off.” Shock and suspicion screamed through Mitch’s nerves. He shot a glance at Wyatt, who had the same look on his face that Mitch knew he had on his. “Enough.” Mitch pushed Trish toward Wyatt and nodded at him to hold her, which he did. She struggled, but with Wyatt being the bigger of the two men, he had a better chance at restraining her while Mitch beat the shit out of Dutch until he told them what he did with Ed. Mitch narrowed his gaze at Dutch. “I’m only going to ask this once. Is Ed Armstrong in this house?” Dutch stiffened and thrust out his pointy chin. “No, he isn’t. I really wish I could help you, but I’m afraid I can’t.” “You can’t help? Or you won’t?” Mitch put his hand on Dutch’s shoulder to stop him from returning inside. Dutch took one look at his hand and then at him, his dark eyes burning, but Mitch didn’t care. He hated this man with every seething bone in his body. If he hurt Ed, there’d be no place he could hide. Dutch stepped out of Mitch’s reach and brushed his shoulder off as if a bug had just shit on him. “Let’s see. Trespassing, assault, larceny. I’m sure I can find some other charges to bring against you. And how interesting that I have representatives from each of the

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ranches I plan to own by this year’s end.” “Larceny, my ass.” Wyatt took a step toward him. “Another bullshit lawsuit, Barkus? What in the hell did we steal from you?” “My time. Good day, gentlemen. Trish.” He nodded and closed the door in their faces. “Unbelievable,” Wyatt muttered. “What are we going to do?” Trish looked on the verge of a meltdown, either that or ready to go postal. Mitch had his money on the latter. “Should we call the cops?” “We don’t know if he’s even here,” Mitch brought up, trying to be the voice of reason. “If Ed came out to pay Dutch a visit, he would have driven. His truck was gone, and it isn’t here.” Trish shook her head. “No. Dutch knows something. If I could just get inside and beat it out of him, I’d get my answers.” “I have a better idea,” Wyatt said and pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and held it up to his ear. “Yeah, hey, can you get Carol out to Dutch’s? Gramps is missing, and I’d bet my left one that Dutch had something to do with it. I don’t give a shit what you’re doing right now. Yes, I’m very well aware that you’re up to your armpits in guests checking out. Can’t Michael do it? It’s time he came out of his shell anyway. What? I don’t care whose jurisdiction it is. Since when did you become an expert? Fine. Just do it.” He slammed the phone closed and glared at the front door. “Matt says this is considered domestic and doesn’t fall under federal jurisdiction.” “Since when is he up on all the laws?” Mitch asked. “Since he started fucking an FBI agent.” Wyatt replaced his phone and let out a sigh. “Matt is going to have Carol call out the locals, but it’ll be forever before they get here. Until then we’re on our own, boys and girls. Any ideas?” “Come on.” Mitch ran down the steps and back to the truck, opened the door, and slipped in behind the wheel. “What are you doing?” Wide eyed, fear and uncertainty trembling

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in her expression, Trish stood frozen in place. “We can’t just leave.” It pulled at his heart to see her so upset. Goddamn Dutch. If he did have anything to do with Ed missing, Mitch would kill him with his bare hands. “We’ve got to find the truck. If he did come here instead of church, we can drive the back roads until we find him. He couldn’t have gone too far.” Wyatt nodded and placed his hand on the small of Trish’s back to lead her down the steps. Mitch watched the gesture and tried to ignore the pinch in his chest. Those two looked so natural together. Trish followed his orders without question, verbal or not. Would she ever be as submissive to him? Trish climbed in the middle, and Wyatt shut the door behind him. Mitch spun the tires as he backed away from Dutch’s place, really hoping he’d kick up a rock and knock out at least one of the fancy windows that probably cost more than Mitch’s hay barn. In silence they drove up and down every back road that joined the ranches in the valley. The blistering sun was high in the sky, making them all sweat like crazy. Because Trish’s truck didn’t have airconditioning, they had the windows down for a little air. The dust kicking up from the road stuck to everything, including them. Trish’s pretty white dress was now the color of dirt. “Maybe he’s not even out here,” Mitch suggested, trying to make Trish feel better. She had silent tears streaming down her face, leaving a clean streak. Those tears would be the death of him. He hated to see her cry. “I’ll call the house.” Wyatt pulled his cell phone out and dialed. They all waited, watching him until he snapped the phone closed and shook his head. “No answer.” Fear gripped his insides, the horror of what they might find weighing hard on Mitch. It wasn’t like Ed hadn’t done this before, so he had no idea why he was so tight about this time. But he’d never just disappeared like this and for this long. He’d go

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off in the middle of the day and get himself turned around, but he’d always make it back home. Not this time. By mid afternoon, they’d covered every road and still hadn’t seen his truck. Trish sat in stony silence, staring straight ahead, no expression on her face as Mitch drove them up a road they’d already covered. “Turn down here,” Wyatt said as he pointed at a trail barely wide enough for an ATV. No way would the truck make it through the marshy brush. Besides, the swollen creek had the trail submerged under two feet of water. But Mitch turned anyway, dread clawing at his gut like a feral beast. He carefully navigated the trail, trying not to get the truck stuck in the swampy muck. He didn’t know how much farther he’d want to risk driving into the swamp. The truck continued to sink as they inched forward. He even had it in four-wheel drive, and it still barely moved. “Maybe we should turn around,” Mitch suggested. “I don’t think Ed would have bothered to try to get through this.” “Try to get around this bend. I want to see—Stop!” Wyatt said as he stiffened, his attention focused out the side window. “What’s that red glow over there? Brake lights?” Mitch stopped the truck and squinted toward the glow, trying to see through the tall brush. “Let’s check it out.” “Oh, shit.” Trish pushed at Wyatt. “That’s the creek. Move, move, move.” She jumped out of the truck and sank up to her ankles, but that didn’t slow her. She left her shoes in the mud broke into a sprint. “Gramps! Gramps!” Mitch put the truck in park and ran to catch up with Trish and Wyatt. The tall weeds hindered their progress, but Trish wouldn’t slow. When they made it to the red glow, all three skidded to a stop. It was Gramps’s truck, the front end off the trail and submerged in the creek.

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“Ed!” Wyatt jumped down the bank and into the water. He ran over to the truck, threw the door open, and leapt back. Ed Armstrong’s body rolled out. “No!” Trish screamed. “Gramps! No!” “Oh, Jesus.” Wyatt shook his head and muttered a round of curses. “Sweet Jesus. Mitch, get her out of here.” He grabbed her and fought to pull her back. She was hysterical, clawing at his hands and jabbing him with sharp elbows to break free. Turning her from the scene, he pushed her face against his shoulder and held her tight until she stopped struggling and collapsed against him, howling through her sobs. Wyatt pulled his phone out and brought it to his ear. “Matt, you’d better get Carol to call in whatever favors she can. I don’t give a shit whose jurisdiction it is. We found Ed. He’s dead.”

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Chapter 17 Wyatt swirled the whiskey around in his glass as he stared at the amber liquid. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink, but didn’t taste it. He leaned against the kitchen counter and glanced around the small room. For as long as he could remember, this room looked exactly the same. A round table and four chairs left over from the seventies graced the middle of the room. The fridge was in desperate need of an upgrade, as were the stove, sink, and counters. In fact, the entire kitchen needed to be gutted and rebuilt from the ground up. Trish wouldn’t be able to afford a remodel. Hell, she could end up losing the ranch entirely now with Ed gone. Wyatt took another drink to numb the emotions threatening to spill over. His eyes burned from the tears hovering right behind them. He’d caught himself several times and pulled his control back in before he showed how upset he was at losing Ed. The horror of seeing Ed like that would forever be burned in his brain. He’d never get that image of the man Wyatt loved like his own grandfather out of his head. The side of his face had a horrid burn and the smell…Wyatt sucked in a breath and took another drink. “Wyatt?” Mitch walked into the kitchen and stood up against the counter on the other side of the room. He crossed his arms and studied him. Wyatt turned away, not wanting Mitch to see any of the feelings swirling in his midnight-blue gaze. “You’ve been in here awhile.” He swallowed thickly and pulled in a breath to steady his voice. “How’s Trish?”

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“Carol and Matt are with her. She asked me to come in and get you.” Wyatt pressed his lips together as he suppressed the curse he wanted to say. His chest clenched at the reality of what had happened. And the guilt at the part they’d had in Ed’s death. Strike that. Mitch didn’t want to say anything. This was Wyatt’s fault. God forgive him because he’d never forgive himself. “I can’t,” he muttered, his lips hidden behind the glass. “What?” He blew out a breath as another round of emotions threatened to break through his barrier. It took him several seconds to speak without his voice wavering. “I can’t face her.” Mitch moved away from the counter. “Wyatt, she needs you right now.” “She’s got you.” He closed his eyes and sipped at his drink. “She needs us both.” God help him, he needed both her, and—as much as he hated to admit it—he needed Mitch, too. He hated knowing he’d caused the pain now consuming her. “This is my fault, you know.” “You didn’t tell Ed to go out there. You actually told him not to.” In a sudden flash of fury, Wyatt threw the glass into the sink. It shattered, and what little remained in it flew out everywhere. “Bullshit! I did this. He wouldn’t have gone out there if I would have just handled it myself.” Mitch didn’t even flinch when Wyatt threw the glass. He even took another step closer. “You can’t blame yourself for this.” Wyatt turned away once again. “The hell I can’t.” “Then you are as stupid as you are arrogant.” Slowly, Wyatt rested his murderous glare on Mitch. “Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that?” Mitch challenged him right back. “I’m the one willing to spend the rest of my life with your arrogant ass for Trish. I’d do anything for her, including putting up with you. It’s what I want.”

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Wyatt pinched the skin between his eyes. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He loved Trish, loved her until he ached, and then kept on loving her. He couldn’t breathe without her. She was his life, his death, and everything in between. She consumed him, and he loved her more because of it. But he couldn’t face her, not after what he’d done. He may as well have driven Ed over to Dutch’s himself. “How do you suppose Ed got that far in?” Mitch asked and went about the task of cleaning up the mess Wyatt created when he threw the glass. “We barely made it that far and we were in four-wheel drive. Ed’s truck is only two-wheel drive.” That was one of about fifty questions Wyatt had for Carol and the crime scene unit. She’d pulled some strings and gotten herself imbedded into the team investing Ed’s death. Carol walked into the kitchen and over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a couple bottles of water. She saw the shattered glass in Mitch’s hand and frowned. “Was that the crash we heard?” They both nodded. “And the shouting?” Wyatt lowered his gaze. “Make sure you get all of it cleaned up. Trish is dealing with enough without having to clean up after you two.” Those goddamn emotions threatened to surface again, and Wyatt didn’t have a glass of whiskey to hide behind this time. He drew in a deep breath and held it, but the son-of-a-bitching tears swelled in his eyes anyway. Carol paused and tilted her head as she studied him. She then left the kitchen, only to return moments later with a folder. She leaned around the threshold that separated the kitchen from the living room. “I’m going to be a few minutes.” Shit. Wyatt cleared his throat and lifted his gaze to the ceiling, fighting to pull the tears back in. Men didn’t cry, at least real men. “Mitch, get us something to drink.” She set the water back in the

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fridge. “Something stronger than water. Wyatt, have a seat.” He shook his head but knew better than to talk. If he couldn’t even control the tears in his eyes, he’d never be able to keep his voice steady. “I insist.” She nodded at the table. After both Mitch and Carol had a seat, Wyatt reluctantly joined them. “I get it.” He looked at her. She smiled, and it really pissed him off. How dare she find any reason to smile at a time like this. He wanted to wipe that smile right off her face, but knew better. Not only was she female, but she could definitely kick his ass. “You think it’s your fault. You blame yourself for not being there, for not stopping him from driving off in a fit of rage, or whatever. But you have to remember something, Wyatt. Ed was getting up there in years, and his mind wasn’t as clear as it used to be. He probably got lost and panicked.” Everything inside him slowed to a stop. Shock held him still. “Are you saying they are going to rule this an accident?” “I’m not saying that at all. I personally think there’s more to it, but until I can sift through the facts, I can’t rule it out. Look, as much as you hate Dutch Barkus, he may not have had anything to do with this. He’s been questioned, and his alibi checks out.” “He did this,” Wyatt told her, the conviction he felt evident in his tone. “If it was an accident, then why the hell did Ed have that burn on the side of his head?” “That’s what I can’t figure out. There’s nothing in his truck that matches the mark on Ed’s temple. Besides, even if there was, it still doesn’t answer why the mark is burned into his skin.” “What are you thinking?” Wyatt asked. She sat back and sighed as she studied him. Then, with a nod, she opened the folder and slid a picture toward him. Wyatt glanced down at it and swallowed. He didn’t have to look at the picture to know every detail of the crime scene.

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He pushed the picture back at her. She tapped at it. “What do you see here?” A dead man. He saw a dead man who, up until Wyatt opened his fucking mouth, was very much alive. “Wait,” Mitch said and took the picture from Carol. “I’ve seen this before. It looks like the top part of a wing.” Wing? Wyatt grabbed the photo and focused in on the burn on the side of Ed’s face. Sure as shit, as plain as the image burned in Wyatt’s brain, the burn left a perfect imprint of the top part of a wing. Not just any wing, but the Flying Dutchman’s brand. Carol took the photo back and placed it in the folder. “Are you saying that, without a doubt, you know this is Dutch Barkus’s brand?” “Without a doubt.” Mitch stood and looked ready to throw his glass this time. “That son of a bitch. That goddamn son of a bitch. He did this. Wyatt, that bastard did this.” “This gives us enough for a warrant.” Carol grinned and stood. “Boys, you’ve just given us enough proof to get on the property. We’ll get Dutch and get your calves back, all in one fell swoop. I’m going to go tell Trish.” “Let me,” Wyatt said, stopping Carol with a hand on her arm. She glanced up in his eyes and gave him a single nod. “Don’t dillydally and don’t leave this house.” She hurried to the front door. Trish stood. “Where are you going?” “To catch your grandfather’s killer,” she answered and blew a kiss to Matt as she closed the door behind her. Trish turned, her brow crinkled in confusion. As soon as she spotted Wyatt, her mouth fell open slightly as she penetrated his soul with her gaze. He hated the pain he saw blazing in those eyes and wished he could do something to take it all away. She walked up to him and stopped. He went to pull her into his arms, but she reached up and slapped him across the face. Betrayal

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flashed across her expression and settled in her eyes. “I hope you’re happy.” He couldn’t talk. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. Just as he’d feared, she blamed him for Ed’s death, and she had every right to. “You found a way to get Dutch out of the valley.” Her breathing hitched as she blinked and tears streamed down her face. “But did you have to use Gramps to get what you wanted?” Those tears ripped through him. He felt every stab of pain with each teardrop. He breathed in sharply as his own tears threatened to spring up. With a shake of his head to keep his emotions in check, he whispered, “Baby, I’m so sorry.” “Trish, this isn’t Wyatt’s fault.” She turned her venom on Mitch. “You’re right, it’s not. It’s just as much your fault as it is his.” “Baby, you’re upset.” “You’re damn right I’m upset. I just lost the one man I could rely on.” Wyatt shook his head. “You can rely on us.” “No, I don’t think I can, not anymore. I trusted you.” More heartbreaking tears streamed down her face as her voice fell to a whisper. Her hushed tone did nothing to soften that hardened look in her eyes. “This is why I told you to not say anything to him. You knew he’d race over there as soon as you said something. You knew it and did it anyway. Well, to hell with you both. I could never be with someone who couldn’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to put someone else above him.” “Trish,” Mitch started, but stopped when she glared at him. “Get out.” No. Hell, no. It couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t end at all. Wyatt reached out to touch her, but then froze when she placed something in his hand, something he never thought she’d ever return. His pin. “Now leave,” she ordered.

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“What about me?” Mitch asked. She thinned her lips and handed his pin back to him as well. He was dying. This couldn’t be happening. She was just upset, he tried to convince himself, but something told Wyatt this went deeper than that. They’d betrayed her trust, just as she’d said. She turned from them, and the gesture ripped a void in his entire world. Although he didn’t want to, he honored her request—this time— and walked out of the house, Mitch on his heels. “Well, this sucks.” Wyatt couldn’t agree more. “I told you not to say anything.” He stopped and glared at him. “Thank you for your ‘I told you so.’ That makes me feel so much better. Now, come on.” Mitch hurried to keep up. “Where are we going?” “To fix this.” He had no idea what to do. What he did know was that he did this, and by God, he’d find a way to bring them back together.

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Chapter 18 Trish sat on her porch staring at Gramps’s truck Carol had her team drop off. Even after the authorities found the calves in the building exactly as Wyatt and Mitch had promised them they would and they hauled Dutch Barkus off in handcuffs, it wasn’t enough. They had enough proof to have him stand trial for the murder of her grandfather, but none of that mattered. He was still gone and it was all Wyatt and Mitch’s fault. She rested her forehead on her knees and debated whether to scream or cry. This was all so unfair. She should hate them for what they’d done. So why, then, did she still love them so much it hurt to breathe? As she closed her eyes and tried everything to feel Gramps looking down on her, she rambled about anything and everything that had her so tight she could barely move. She wanted to believe her family heard her, but at this point in her life, she didn’t know what to believe in. “I hope you were happy with the turnout at your wake, Gramps. You had a positive effect on a lot of people’s lives.” She swallowed hard and tried to stop her chin from quivering, but gave up. The tears came and rolled down her face. “You had a positive effect on mine.” A sob snuck up and hurt as it tore through her. “You were always there for me. I don’t know what to do now that you’re gone.” A voice as loud as if he’d been there sitting next to her sounded in her head. Go to them. The pain taking her into a black abyss of depression loosened its

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hold on her. “I still can’t believe what Wyatt and Mitch did. I told them not to tell you. If they would have just listened to me, you’d still be here.” She sucked it a breath. Forgive them. Okay, now she started to get a little freaked out. “How can I forgive them after what they did? They don’t deserve it. I hate them.” Love them. “I don’t want to love them!” Was she really arguing with a voice in her head? Maybe she’d snapped from all the trauma. She let out a sigh as she sat there, trying to find the strength to make it through the rest of the day without breaking down for the umpteenth time. “Is this seat taken?” Trish straightened to see Sarah Gideon approach, her cute pregnant belly causing her to start to waddle. Trish scooted over. “Did you walk over here?” Sarah nodded and let out a sigh as she sank down onto the stair. “I needed the air. It’s so depressing over there.” “I can’t promise you it’ll be any better here.” “At least you aren’t attacking everyone trying to help you.” Trish looked at Sarah. “Wyatt?” She nodded. “That bad?” “Let’s see.” Sarah raised her gaze as she listed everything out, one by one, on her fingers. “First, Wyatt punched Michael, claiming it was payback for a fistfight they got into this past winter. Then Chris tried to convince him to come over here and talk to you.” “I wouldn’t have talked to him.” “That’s what Wyatt used as his excuse, too. But then Barrett went off over him and Mitch going after Dutch alone. It’s like testosterone central over there.” She rubbed her rounded belly. “I tell you, if this kid doesn’t come out a girl, I’ll scream. I can’t take another man over there.”

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Trish let out a slow, painful sigh. It would be so easy to forgive Wyatt and Mitch. Deep down she wanted to believe they’d had the best of intentions when they told Gramps about Dutch. If only she could ask him what in the hell he’d been thinking going after Dutch alone. Her eyes swelled with tears at the thought of never talking to the man who’d raised her again. “You know, Trish, I know what it feels like to think you’ve been betrayed.” “There is no ‘I think’ on this one, Sarah. I know they betrayed me.” Sarah spiked her dark brow. Trish lowered her gaze to her feet. “Go on.” “It was Barrett’s job to make sure the guests at the ranch were happy. Chris did everything right as well. Since I was a guest, I naturally thought they’d spent the weekend with me as part of their contract with me. Women like me don’t get men like that.” “Don’t say that. You’re great.” “But I’m no you,” she countered with a light laugh. “Let’s face it, Trish. God was pretty damn nice to you. Me, on the other hand, he gave the great personality.” Sarah sighed as she lost her smile. “When I found out I was pregnant, I was furious. How could this happen? How could the girl who always got picked last in gym class get knocked up by two of the most gorgeous men in Montana? I was positive they’d both think I’d trapped them and then the only contact I’d have would be the awkward forced weekend visits.” “What changed your mind?” “Fate,” Sarah answered without hesitation. “It took a power higher than me to make me realize what a fool I’d been.” Trish frowned at her. “Things happen for a reason.” “Are you saying Gramps died for a reason?” Sarah shrugged and rubbed her belly. “I’m saying shit happens for

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reasons you and I can’t explain. Maybe Gramps moved on so you could, too.” She rocked to her feet with a groan and held her back. “Jeez Louise, I tell you, everyone talks up pregnancy as some beautiful thing.” She stared at Sarah’s swelling belly in longing. Would she ever know the feeling of having her body grow ripe with a child? “It isn’t?” “Hell, no. Aside from the whole miracle of life thing, it’s a pain in the ass. Not only do you have to pee every five minutes, but your hormones are all over the place. Thank God I’ve finally stopped throwing up all the time. That part really sucked.” “Think of the upside. In five months you’ll have a baby screaming around the clock, demanding time and energy you don’t have.” Sarah laughed. “There is that silver lining. But, then again, I have two wonderful men to help me.” She then looked at Trish as her expression grew somber. “You do, too. Let them help you, Trish. If not for you, then do it for them.” Trish straightened her shoulders and stared at the truck her grandfather used to drive, the pang of never seeing him drive up to greet her again too much to take. She closed her eyes and turned away. “I owe them nothing.” “If you believe that—truly believe that—then you are as big of a fool as they are. Between you and me? I don’t think you’re a fool at all, Trish.” “What am I supposed to do, just forgive them?” Sarah smiled and rubbed at her belly. “Go with your gut. That’s what I did.” They both laughed. Trish watched Sarah waddle away and wondered whether to go after her and make sure she got home okay. The field had holes and such, and she didn’t want Sarah to twist her ankle in any of them. She pushed herself off the stairs and turned the corner around her

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house to go after Sarah to make sure she’d made it back through the broken fence. And froze. Wyatt stood there. Their gazes collided and neither looked away. Sarah made it up to Wyatt and said something to him. He nodded once, his attention never anywhere but on Trish. Sarah then waddled away, and still Wyatt kept his gaze on Trish. “I need to talk to you,” Wyatt yelled across the field. Trish shook her head, pretending not to hear him. She wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say, knowing she’d forgive him as soon as the first of the words fell from his lips. “Trish.” She whipped around at the sound of her voice and collided with the hard chest of the other man she didn’t have the strength to stand up to right now. Just seeing either one of them again had her nerves tight and her temper ready to explode. She pushed past him. “Go away, Mitch.” “Please? Just talk to me, Trish. I–I can’t eat. I haven’t been able to sleep since you kicked us out. I’m a mess.” And he looked it. His normally short brown hair looked like it hadn’t been groomed in a while, not to mention the dark circles under his eyes that looked big enough to hide hay bales behind them. “You look like shit.” “You look incredible,” he countered. She wore the same black dress she wore that fateful Friday night that had changed her life. It seemed fitting. That night started the chain of events that led to this point in her life. After today, she’d close this chapter of her life, sell the ranch, and move on. She had nothing to keep her here, not anymore. She had no idea what to do after this, but knew she couldn’t stay here, not with Wyatt and Mitch right there. And she knew they’d never be too far away. Maybe she’d go back to school. She never did finish her degree in acting. She definitely had to pretend she didn’t give a shit about the

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men she released. Seeing Mitch standing there, looking like he really hadn’t slept in days, gave her pause. It would be so easy to let him back into her life. But loving him, loving them both, scared the shit out of her. She gave them everything and they hurt her. She couldn’t see past that. “Go away.” “Trish, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make this right.” Now that just pissed her off. “Haven’t you done enough?” “No,” a voice sounded from behind her. She turned to see Wyatt, his blue eyes blazing as he glared at her. “We haven’t done enough.” “Haven’t you?” “Hold your tongue and let me speak.” Trish didn’t even realize that she’d brought her hand up and slapped Wyatt across the face until she’d made contact. She then sucked in a breath in surprise. He stood there, expressionless, as he pinned her with that burning blue gaze. “Are you through?” Oh, his arrogance. “I hate you.” Wyatt kicked the corners of his sexy lips up into a grin as he grabbed her and slammed her up against him, his mouth a breath away from hers. “I love you and, baby, I know you love me.” “Damn you, Wyatt.” She wanted to scream. How dare he say the one thing he knew she’d never be able to resist? “Be pissed at me, beat the shit out of me if that makes you feel better, but don’t ever lie to me. I know you don’t hate me.” “Fine,” she conceded. “But I really don’t like you right now.” He chuckled, and the deep sound resonated through his thick chest as he pulled her to him, enveloping her with the strength of his arms. “I really don’t like me right now, either.” Mitch came up behind her and hugged her. “I’m so sorry, baby. You have to know that. It was—“ “If you say it was my idea, I will kill you where we stand,” Wyatt cut off in a growl.

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She couldn’t deal with this. These past several days were hell. Trish had to make arrangements to have Gramps cremated and placed in the same box as Grams. She then had to put together the plans for the service and wake. At least Pastor Ryan helped her through most of it and was absolutely the best during the service, but he could do nothing to help her get over the pain now threatening to take over. Having Wyatt threaten to kill Mitch for the umpteenth time pushed her over the edge, and she snapped. She wiggled out of Mitch’s hold and pushed at Wyatt’s hard chest. “If you are going kill him then just do it already. I’m so sick of hearing your threats, Wyatt. Mitch barely steps to the left and you are tossing out some empty threat. Stop it!” Wyatt’s gaze darkened as his expression turned to stone. “You think I won’t do it?” “No,” she countered and pushed him again. “I don’t think you will.” Mitch put his hand on her shoulder. “Trish, what are you doing? You’re going to get my ass kicked.” She whipped around to face him. “If that’s what it takes, Mitch. Jesus Lord, you need a spine. For years you’ve let Wyatt push you away. Stand up to him, for Christ’s sake. Let him know you are just as much a part of my life as he is.” “I’m right here,” Wyatt growled. “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not.” “Then prove it!” She then pushed at his chest, challenging him with every ounce of strength she could summon up. “Prove to me that I can count on you. Prove to me that you won’t run away as soon as I do something that challenges your precious values. Prove to us all that, as much as he pisses you off, you’ll protect Mitch to the death.” “To the end,” Wyatt said, his gaze riveted to Mitch, standing behind her. “And beyond.” “You mean that?” Mitch asked. “Just because I can kick your ass doesn’t mean I’m going to let

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anyone else best my best friend.” “Wyatt, I—“ “Say another word and I’ll kick your ass just to prove my point.” Mitch grinned, as did Wyatt, and Trish wished she could share in the joy of Wyatt's declaration, but too much had happened. Too many things had changed between them, things she couldn't get over. She hadn’t seen Wyatt or Mitch this morning during Gramps’s service at the church, but that hadn’t surprised her. It hurt, but she understood, as much as she hated to admit it. Losing her grandfather devastated her, and she knew it had devastated both Wyatt and Mitch as well. And now, after the final guests had paid their respects and left the Armstrong ranch, leaving Trish alone to deal with, well, being more alone that she’d ever been, she wasn’t sure how to feel. She wanted to be angry—at her men and at the fates for stealing Gramps before his time—but something held her back. She wanted to hate someone, anyone, for losing her grandfather and the loves of her life, all in one day. How could a person wake up one morning so happy that it couldn’t get any better, and the next moment have everything ripped out as if she’d done something wrong? “I have to go,” she said, though she didn’t know where she’d be able to escape to. It didn’t matter. She had to get away from them to sort out what she really wanted. “Where?” Wyatt asked. She glanced up at the sun. “Away from here." Mitch took a step toward her. “We’ll go with you.” “No.” She put her hand up. “I need to do this alone. I need to do all of this alone.” Wyatt tilted his head as he studied her. “How much of it are you willing to do alone?” “As much as it takes.” “You don’t have to.” Mitch nodded. “Trish, let us be there for you.” “Why should I?”

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“Because we’re your guys.” Mitch laughed, and it sounded maniacal, and wonderful. “I mean, we are the ones, you know? You hear about people looking for the one all the time. You lucked out, baby. You got two.” Please tell us you want us,” Wyatt added. “I–I don’t know,” she admitted truthfully. She really didn’t. What if she let them back in and they did even more damage? She couldn’t take the chance and have them hurt her again. She’d never recover. “I have to go.” “Trish,” Wyatt said and stepped between her and her truck, those intense blue eyes boring into her and weakening her resolve. “Don’t do this. Please, just tell us what to do.” “You can start by letting me go.” “Never.” Mitch moved up next to Wyatt. Now she had a wall of muscle blocking her way. It both irritated and aroused her. “You’re scared,” Wyatt informed her, as if she didn’t already know. “Well, you know what? I’m scared, too.” “Ha!” She laughed and the sound echoed through the air between them. “You? You aren’t scared of anything, Wyatt Gideon. None of you Gideons are.” “That’s bullshit.” Wyatt shook his head. “Everyone has fears. Some of us choose to face them. Others run from them.” “Fuck you,” she snapped and lifted her hand to slap him again. He grabbed her wrist, his expression a cross between aroused and downright pissed off. “Hit me again and I’ll make you kiss it all better.” Oh how she wanted to. She jerked her hand back. “You lost your chance to have me kiss anything of yours ever again when you killed Gramps.” “Hey, I wasn’t the one who attacked him with my branding iron, and it wasn’t my brand burned into his skin. Dutch did this, Trish.

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Hate me for my part in his death, but don’t you fucking dare blame me. I couldn’t stand it. I already hate myself. Goddamn it.” Trish sucked in a gasp that had the air freezing in her lungs when she looked up into Wyatt’s blue eyes. They’d reddened and when he blinked, a telltale tear streamed down his handsome face. He turned from her and resisted when she brought her hand up and cupped his cheek to pull his attention back to her. She’d never seen Wyatt upset enough to show any sort of emotion. To see him so vulnerable made her realize how much they were all hurting. She’d been selfish to think her grandfather’s death only affected her. Wyatt stood before her with tears in his eyes. Mitch had a shocked look on his face, obviously astounded at Wyatt’s show of emotions, and didn’t look too far off from showing his own. “I—” Wyatt blew out a breath when he couldn’t even say a single word without his voice shaking. “I can’t do this without you.” “Do what?” She didn’t want to forgive him, not yet. She needed to stay mad at him and Mitch for at least another day, didn’t she? Weren’t there stages of anger just like the stages of grief? “This. Life. I can’t do it without you, baby. You may not need me, but I need you.” “We both do, more than you know.” Mitch snuck around behind her and pressed his hard chest against her back as he kissed her shoulder. “Save us, Trish. Save us from ourselves.” “Now that has to be the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.” She laughed through her tears. “It’s true,” Mitch defended and wrapped his arms around her middle. “Look at Wyatt. He’s a mess.” “Now I am going to kick your ass.” Even though Wyatt glared at Mitch, Trish saw the gratitude lightening his gaze. “Are you going to forgive us?” Mitch asked as he brushed his lips up and down her neck. Chills peppered her skin. “I haven’t made up my mind, yet.” “Maybe this will help you.” Wyatt nodded at Mitch, who then

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disappeared behind the house. “Where—” “Shh,” Wyatt said and held his finger up to her lips. She didn’t know if she liked that wicked glimmer in his gaze or not. Nothing good ever came from that look. “Follow me.” “Where are we going?” When he didn’t tell her, she stopped walking and waited, her arms folded up under her breasts. “Tell me what’s going on.” “Can’t you just live in the moment?” She lifted her brow as her answer. Wyatt then proceeded to reach down and swept her up into his arms, and didn’t slow until he walked into the barn. Mitch stood there, a single red rose in his hand. She loved roses, damn it. “Put me down,” she ordered and squirmed in Wyatt’s arms. He didn’t slow until he reached Mitch. Only then did he set her down. She turned to run out, but Wyatt blocked her way by dropping to one knee, a single rose in his hand as well. Where did he get that? She backed away from him only to run into Mitch. She swung around to see him drop to one knee. “What is this?” She kept them both in her peripheral vision and started to back away. Wyatt spoke up. “Patricia Armstrong, I love you. I’ve always loved you and will never stop loving you.” He stood and twirled the rose in his hand as he slowly made small, deliberate steps toward her, his brilliant blue eyes blazing as his gaze held her captive. “You are mine, pin or not.” It was Mitch’s turn. “And I’m yours, baby, all yours. I don’t ever want to be anyone else’s.” He rose to his feet and moved next to Wyatt. Together they closed in, and she backed up until the wall stopped her. This was too much. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t be

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here dealing with this right now. “I have to go.” Wyatt stopped her by stepping in her way. “Let me pass.” Mitch joined in the barricade. “We’ve got you, baby. You’ve made us very happy. Now it’s your turn.” She flashed her eyes at him, not at all amused. This was just plain mean. If they continued to ooze charm from their very pores, she’d be helpless to resist them. “My turn for what?” “To be taken care of,” Mitch said and inched closer. “I love you, Trish. Let me take care of you from here to eternity.” “Let us both take care of you,” Wyatt added. They looked at each other and nodded. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Shock plunged through her body. She didn’t want to be married, did she? She never thought of herself as wife material. Who would want a stubborn woman who never gave in to what a man wanted? The answer stared back at her, one with handsome hazel eyes, the other with dancing blue eyes, both absolutely, head over heels in love with her. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care. “Marry me,” Wyatt said. “Us,” Mitch corrected. “Marry us.” Wyatt tossed the rose aside and cupped her face with his hands, lifting her chin to his. “I promise you’ll never be alone.” And then he kissed her.

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Epilogue “Did you hear the verdict?” Mitch walked into the kitchen and dropped into one of the chairs. “Wyatt just talked to Matt. That dirty son of a bitch probably paid off the judge. Jesus Christ, where’s the justice? Men like Dutch Barkus need to die.” “Receiving life without parole isn’t exactly getting off.” Trish took a bite of her peanut butter toast. “When Carol called me with the news, I was happy. At least he didn’t get off. With his army of lawyers I seriously thought he would.” “The men in prison are going to love his pretty hands.” They exchanged looks and both smiled at fate’s justice. Trish finished off her peanut butter toast and licked the crumbs from her lips. “Do that again,” Mitch said with a grin. She held his gaze and ran her tongue along her lips. Wyatt walked into the kitchen and joined them at the little round table. “That would be so much sexier if you didn’t have food all over your tongue.” “It’s still damn sexy.” Mitch winked at her and her heart flipflopped at the gesture. “Are you sure you want to get rid of this old place?” Wyatt traced his gaze around the room. “It holds a lot of memories.” “Not all of them good,” she stated and looked around herself. “I need to do this. I can’t take care of a ranch this size alone, and I can’t make you two do it. Selling this and moving into Mitch’s place makes sense.” “So, I take it Mitch told you?” Wyatt nodded at Mitch.

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Trish smiled, feeling a sense of closure at the news. “Carol called me. Dutch Barkus has been charged with cattle rustling.” She swallowed, drew in a deep breath, and added, “And murder. He’s been sentenced to life in prison.” “Are you okay, baby?” Wyatt took her hand in his. She loved it when he called her that. “I will be.” “What can we do to make it better?” Mitch scooted his chair closer. “How about we take this to our house,” Trish said with a seductive smile. “I overheard you two talking about some new toys. I can’t wait to try them.” They exchanged wicked glances. Mitch stood and took her other hand. “There’s a toy called the Juicer I want to try.” Trish smiled as a shiver of arousal washed over her. “I like the sound of that.” Mitch covered her lips with his and kissed her until she could no longer breathe. Only then did she break contact. “Lead me not into temptation,” Mitch groaned. “For I can find it on my own,” Wyatt finished. She couldn’t have said it better herself.

THE END WWW.ALLIEKADAMS.COM/EVE.HTML

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Allie K. Adams writes as Eve Adams when a sizzling, M/F love story isn’t enough. She currently resides with her family in southwest Montana, where the west is still wild and that’s just the way she likes it. Please visit her website for more information or to contact her. She loves to hear from readers, so please don't be shy!

Also by Eve Adams Ménage Amour: Riding Series 1: Riding Double Ménage Amour: Riding Series 2: [Tasty Treats, Volume 1]: Riding Lessons Ménage and More: Riding Series 3: Riding Cowboys Ménage Amour: Covert Lovers 1: Under the Covers Ménage Amour: Covert Lovers 2: Between the Covers Ménage Everlasting: Gideon's Ring 1: Trio Ménage Everlasting: Brides of Bachelor Bay 3: Patience is Their Virtue Ménage Everlasting: Songs Remember When 1: Suspicious Minds

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