Rough Stock, the Novel Page 3

  “It does,” I said in an almost dreamlike state as the wine warmed me and loosened me up. “It’s nice.”

  “There ain’t nothing nice about what I want to do you tonight,” Charlie’s voice rolled over me, his hands still rubbing slowly, lower and lower on my back.

  I leaned forward and let him work out the knots that had formed in my muscles, a result of the storm earlier. It was more than nice, though; it was intoxicating, and it was dangerous, and I had no idea why I was doing it.

  “I’m not always nice,” I replied in a sultry tone. The storm, the wine, the four hot men all vying for my attention. I wasn’t sure if it was the combination of factors or if any of them stood out above the others, but the fact was I wanted to get down and dirty with one of these guys tonight.

  I just didn’t know which one, but I suspected they’d work it out amongst themselves.

  Selena would be dying to see me like this. I wasn’t a virgin or a prude, but I wasn’t exactly that sexually adventurous. My last boyfriend, Miles, had ended because of work: I worked too much, and he didn’t work enough, and I got sick of coming home in the evenings to find him napping on my sofa.

  I never did let him move in with me, thank god, but he’d sure kicked up a fuss when I’d ended it once and for all.

  That had been three months ago, and when I forced my wine-addled brain to do the sex math…three months, plus the several months I couldn’t bear to have him touch me, minus that one time in the park after the open air concert in the summertime…damn it had been way too long since I’d been ridden hard and put away wet, to use cowboy lingo.

  I was surprised I hadn’t exploded in a mess of hormones and horniness somewhere along the way. Every time I’d gone out with Selena and the girls lately had ended with me being super bitchy to some schmuck who came off as too desperate or too aggressive for me to sleep with them.

  But Charlie, and Clive, these cowboys had it going on.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Clive said in my ear, moving his hands along my neck, across my shoulders and down the front of me. He moved slowly as if waiting for me to freak out about having two men touching me like this, but I didn’t freak out. If anything, I wanted more.

  “Me too, darlin’,” Charlie chuckled and slipped his hands around my waist, across my thighs and in intentional, circular motions he got closer and closer to the throbbing center of my being.

  You know, my pussy. My lady garden. My molten core.

  I could go on; I’m a writer after all, but all that did was distract me from the fact that I might be about to have my very first threesome, and with two damn fine looking men.

  The best part? I’d never have to see any of them again. It was like what happened in Huntington stayed in Huntington, and I was going to make a lot happen.

  “I’m feeling dizzy,” I exhaled softly, “is there somewhere I could lie down?”

  “How about my room?” Charlie asked and ran his hands up my body, along my arms and helped me stand.

  “Guys, clean this up,” Clive ordered Ty and Harley with a grin. I almost wanted to tell them to join us, but my inner prude who did often try to control my wilder side hissed at me not to cross that line.

  “You do seem tired,” Charlie said as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. “I think that wine might have hit you hard.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “I’m a little tipsy, but it’s not too bad.”

  At Charlie’s room, Clive opened the door, and the three of us walked inside.

  It was decorated tastefully but clearly belonged to a man with all the leather furniture and heavy wooden dressers. I was impressed, though, there was no dirty underwear hanging off the chair, and he’d made his bed that morning.

  “You should head into the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face,” Clive told me, and the two of them helped me to the en suite. “I do think you’re a little drunker than you think.”

  I pouted and exhaled in an angry puff, but I went into the bathroom and closed the door. It was clean and seemed like something out of a high-end spa, not a country guy’s house.

  I sat up on the marble countertop and pulled out my phone.

  I texted Selena and realized that it took longer to spell each word out than normal.

  “Would I be crazy to have a 3some with 2 hot cowguys?” I typed.

  She immediately started to reply, I could see the three little dots loading at the bottom of my screen.

  “WTF? Where are you?”

  “Stuck in Huntington with four hote giys.”

  I hit send, and my eyes blurred, then cleared up, and I read the spelling errors. I hated spelling errors.

  Maybe I was drunk.

  “OMG doooo eeeeeeeeeet!” was her response and I giggled imagining her enthusiastically coaching me on.

  “Yes ma’am,” I typed back, turned off the phone and splashed a little cold water on my face.

  I swung the door open, dramatically surveyed the room and spotted my hotties by the bed, their faces more concerned than aroused.

  “All righty, boys, let’s get this started,” I laughed and did my best to walk sexily towards them, but hit something part of the way there and tumbled forward.

  Charlie and Clive rushed to catch me and broke my fall. Charlie picked me up in his strong arms, scanned my face with a serious gaze, and said, “I’m sorry darlin’, I can’t take advantage of a drunk girl.”

  Chapter 7

  “No, no, no, no,” I moaned and clung to Charlie. “I’m not as think as you drunk I am. I want this!”

  “Maybe in the morning after a good night’s sleep,” Clive told me with a wink and a kiss on the forehead.

  “Come on, I thought this was happening,” I murmured as the fight left me and I started to succumb to drowsiness.

  Charlie set me gently on the bed, pulled the covers over me and leaned down to kiss my cheek. “Any other time, darlin’, and I would have railed you like a man straight out of a ten-year prison sentence. But we can’t do this, not when you’re this drunk.”

  “I’m really not that…” My voice trailed off as the room began to spin. “Dammit, maybe I am. But I’m still down to…”

  I began to drift into sleep but could hear them discussing me before I lost consciousness.

  “Let her be, she’s exhausted,” Charlie said in a warm, kind tone.

  “She’s beautiful,” Clive replied, his voice rich with admiration.

  “That she is, and quite the little firecracker. What do you think?”

  “She’s perfect,” Clive replied. “We just have to let her figure it out.”

  “I agree, we can’t push a girl like this, she’s got to come to us.”

  I slipped into darkness at that and lost focus on their voices.

  I had a deep, dreamless sleep, one of the best in a long time.

  I woke in a strange bed with my head pounding and sharp, bright light piercing through my eyelids directly into my throbbing brain.

  How much did I drink last night? The whole bottle? I worried they must have thought I was such a lightweight, but I wasn’t really a drinker, so it had hit me like a freight train. My nerves from the storm and the attention must have made me miscalculate and keep taking more when I should have cut myself off.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I moaned and opened my eyes, letting them roam across the room as it all came back to me. Throwing myself at them, them turning me down and putting me to bed and leaving me alone.

  God, how humiliating. I’d made a play for my first threesome, and the guys had rejected me horribly. How could I possibly come back from that? I only had to deal with them long enough to get my car fixed and then I could high-tail it back to the city and put this far behind me.

  I found my phone on the night stand, turned it on and found a bunch of texts from Selena, all asking the same thing.

  Did I have a threesome last night, and if I did, she wanted every single detail.

  “God, no, I was too drunk
,” I texted her once my eyes were better focused.

  “You couldn’t do it?”

  “No, they didn’t want to. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “OMG they turned you down?”

  “I was too drunk apparently.”

  “That is the sweetest thing EVER.”

  “Sweet? I am seriously humiliated. How am I going to look at them now?”

  “I think it’s amazing, so old fashioned. And very progressive at the same time. I wonder if cowboys are all into informed consent and women’s rights and stuff.”

  “Ha, I doubt it. Man, I need to get home. I have to have this article in for Monday morning’s edition.”

  “Are you writing about the botched threesome?”

  “Ha, funny. I’ll call you when I’m back. Asshole.”

  “Love you!”

  “Love you too, jerkface.”

  I looked at the time and sat up, cursing my lateness. It was Saturday morning, but still, I had a car to fix and an article to write, an apartment to clean and groceries to buy. And I still had to let my mom know if I was going to their place for Sunday dinner. I’d been trying to avoid them lately, ever since my younger cousin had gotten engaged to some millionaire doctor or something.

  Younger people doing bigger life things than me always ended up with me being grilled about everything from my plans for a family to my sexuality.

  I think my mom believed I was gay, and my dad, a liberal arts college instructor, secretly hoped for it.

  I stood, stretched, and went into the bathroom to rub some toothpaste on my teeth with my finger and try to tame my hair.

  Once I’d done the best I could, I opened the door and gingerly crept down the stairs to the huge kitchen where I’d had enough wine the night before to behave like a wanton hussy.

  But damn, underneath the shame of rejection, there was a sprinkling of regret. I really would have liked to know what it was like being sandwiched between two big, muscled cowboys like that.

  I blushed at my inner fantasies and realized it might not have been the best thing for me, given my shock at even thinking about it.

  I smelled two perfect things as I hit the kitchen. Coffee and bacon.

  I decided to fake my way through the next bit and remain cheerfully oblivious to the plane crash that had happened last night. I could lick my wounds and get over my shame at being rejected when I was safe in my apartment.

  Chapter 8

  “Good morning, darlin’,” Charlie said from his spot in front of the stove. “I thought you’d like a little breakfast in bed, but since you’re already up, the table will have to do.”

  “Where’s the rest of the guys?” I asked and took my seat in the same spot I’d occupied last night. The memory of Charlie and Clive massaging me flitted through my mind, resulting in flaming hot cheeks and a throbbing sensation in my lower regions.

  “They’re doing morning chores, and I volunteered to serve your breakfast,” he said with a wink and walked over with a mug of steaming coffee. “You still want it black?”

  “Yes, please,” I replied and practically ripped the mug from his hand, inhaled the intoxicating steam, and sipped it like it was life-giving succor.

  Charlie chuckled, and I looked up to see him shaking his head. “You weren’t lying, you love your coffee.”

  “I’m many things, but I’m not a liar.” I smiled and set the mug down. “I do need to get back to the city, though, are you able to help me with my car or should I call a tow truck?”

  “Your car’s out front,” he replied and walked back to the stove. He flipped something over in a heavy, cast iron frying pan and pulled a plate from the cupboard near his head.

  “Out front? Did you have it towed?” I asked, grateful and confused.

  “Clive and Ty went over first thing and got it fixed up, drove it back,” he replied and walked back to the table, placing a perfect half moon omelet in front of me. With one final flourish, he sprinkled some grated cheese from a bowl in the middle of the table. “Now is that good for you? Or would you like some toast? I know you city girls hate carbs and all that, so I didn’t want to assume.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked. “How?”

  “I’m not kidding, I’ve heard all about you city types,” he replied and sat in the chair next to me. His eyes twinkled with good humor and I noticed his five o’clock shadow stubbling the angled plains of his cheeks, making him look even more ruggedly handsome. If that was even possible.

  And then I remembered why he couldn’t shave this morning: me in his bed, rejected from the night before, all that. I reddened again and said, “You jerk. I mean the car.”

  “We got your keys, got the tire fixed up, replaced it and brought it back. It ain’t no big thang, darlin’.”

  “It is a big thing, thank you so much.”

  “Thank them next time you see them,” he replied, grabbed his mug of coffee and sat back, watching me with hunger in his eyes. “Now eat your breakfast, you’ll need your strength before you head back home today.”

  I obeyed and finished every scrap of food on my plate. I was a big eater with good genes, and after last night’s escapade with the wine, I was starving.

  Charlie seemed to appreciate it, though and didn’t make me feel weird about eating so much or so fast. Miles had always been kind of a prick about it, warning me not to get fat or he might leave me.

  The irony was that he’d ended up tubbier than me, and I’d been the one to leave him.

  Sitting there with Charlie, the food, the amazing house and the way he made me feel was a little enticing if I was honest. I could almost picture myself like that every morning, waking up to a man who knew how to treat a woman in a house in the country. The fresh air, the food from your ranch on your table, and the honest hard work bringing more satisfaction than sitting in a stuffy office in the city pushing pencils for rich men who thought they were better than you.

  Maybe in another lifetime, though, I had an article to write and my life in the city to get back to.

  “You’re deep in thought,” Charlie said, looked at me. “I’ve noticed that about you, you’re a deep thinker. Even when you were tipsy and offered yourself up like a steak on a buffet line, you weren’t able to stop that brain of yours from grinding away, were you?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him and said, “I’m surprised you noticed. And yes, I have a bit of an anxiety problem, I can’t quiet my brain most of the time.”

  “A few days out here would solve that real quick,” he smiled. “Hard work, country air, horseback riding, it all works to shift you back down into neutral and lets you spend some time simply enjoying the moment. You ought to try it some time, come back out here and see us.”

  “I would love that,” I said, “but you know, work and the drive and all that. It might make it hard for me to visit.”

  “I guess I didn’t make myself clear, darlin’,” he laughed slowly. “I want you back out here, Morgan. I want to spend the night with you, but have you completely sober so you enjoy every last second of it.”

  He leaned towards me before I could come up with any more reasons to not come back for a visit, put his rough finger under my chin, and tilted my head up for a kiss.

  And man, what a kiss it was. He was gentle at first, his tongue was sweet and warm from his coffee, and his hand stayed on my chin, cupping my face.

  I let out a small moan of pleasure, though, and that set him off. He slid his chair closer and dragged me into his arms, on his lap. I cupped his face then, as his arms wrapped around my waist, and we made out like horny teenagers on our first date.

  I rode him, squirming on his lap and widening my eyes as his hardness grew against me, promising me quite the visit if I made my way out again.

  I was sinking deeply into the kiss, the sensations traveling wildly around my body when I heard somebody clear his throat.

  I pulled back as if in pain, twisted around and saw the three other cowboys standing there watching us.r />
  My first instinct was to leap off Charlie’s lap and protest them all staring at us, but I didn’t mind. It was actually kind of sexy knowing they’d been watching us make out like that, and I tried to gauge how they were feeling by letting my eyes roam around their tight jeans.

  It was pretty obvious they were just as excited about us as I was about them. I half considered not going back to the city, just to see what kind of crazy kinky things I could talk at least of a couple of these cowboys into doing, but Clive broke that train of thought.

  “I don’t mean to intrude, but we’ve got rodeoing to do today, Charlie,” he said, his eyes never leaving my face, his naked desire so obvious that I imagined his muscles must be coiled like a tiger, ready to pounce.

  “Ah damn,” Charlie said regretfully and lifted me in his arms as he stood. I slipped down to the floor to balance on shaky legs and immediately regretted what I’d just done. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’ve got to get back to the arena, but you’re welcome to join us if you have time. You could always spend the night again.”

  His brow lifted at the suggestion, and his intent was clear, but it struck me suddenly how ridiculous I was being. Like a cat in heat with no control over her hormones, it was shameful.

  “No, I’m good. I do need to get back to the city,” I replied, trying to muster my dignity and gather my strength. “Thanks for everything, though.”

  They walked me to my car, and I climbed in unceremoniously. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking, making out with Charlie like we were in a relationship, then lusting after his friends like I was some out of control perv.

  I glanced in the rear view mirror as I drove away and each one of the Huntington Four wore a dejected look on his face. Charlie had been the hardest to leave, his confusion at my rapid departure hadn’t made me feel that good about being so flighty.

  I didn’t know what had gotten into me during my time in Huntington, but I did know I was going to go home, have a nice hot shower, and try to forget about it.