Box Set #61: Cowboy Sex, Volume 2 (All 4 books for $3.99)
In Sex Club, Ansley Cartwell discovers new love interests and becomes the target of a madwoman. By the time Ansley’s men find out who wants to kill her, Ansley has been drawn into a deceptive web bound to bring heartache to those around her. Her lovers vow to protect her, but even if they are able to save Ansley from the madwoman, it may be their dark pasts that cause the most damage.
In Sex Retreat, Trixie Cartwell Sheldon’s desire for a third lover places her in a killer’s sights. Brock Sheldon and Rory Matthews understand Mitch Colony’s difficult past, but they have their family to consider. Trixie can’t forget the love she and Mitch shared, and she wants him at any cost. What she doesn’t realize is that the going rate for love is very high indeed.
In Sex Slave, Kimberly Cartwell finds passion and protection in the arms to two Doms as she flees a destructive relationship. Wyatt Clanton and Sebastian Ketchum prepare a rigorous training session for their new submissive, but it is soon interrupted when Kimberly is kidnapped. When they discover her whereabouts, they plan a train trip to rescue her from a man who nearly ruins her. After all that happens, will Kimberly surrender to the two men who have waited years to love her?
In Sex Fest, Patience McKay and Baron Shanks have chemistry that can’t be ignored any longer. When a threat against the Cartwells and McKays strikes too close to home, Baron tells Patience’s boyfriends to make room for one more. Mark and Spencer McCoy aren’t jealous and are relieved Patience has someone to protect her while they live out their country music dreams. A deal Baron strikes with a mob boss to help protect Patience exposes secrets from his past that may end up destroying them all.
Click on each cover for detailed blurbs, awards, ratings, excerpts, and reviews for each book in Cowboy Sex, Volume 2.
Ansley thinned her lips.
Brock said, “It’s all right, Ansley. Call Don Lauderback in the morning. Tell him I need an attorney.”
The asshole smirked and kept reading Brock the Miranda rights. “Get her out of here,” Brock said to Tristan as another officer led him toward the squad car. “Now!”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Ansley shouted, shaking off Tristan’s grip.
“Damn it, Ansley. Come on!” Tristan shouted, practically dragging her.
About the time Elliott and Tristan escorted her to the Killians’ Jeep, Bailey was arrested for Jordie Anne’s murder. As they placed the handcuffs around Bailey’s wrists, the Killians’ vehicle doors slammed in unison.
Ansley fought Tristan, using her purse to swat him over the head repeatedly while he tried to keep her inside the SUV. As Brock listened to the angry detective’s threats and promises, he smiled. God love her, Ansley was a carbon copy of her mother more than her sister.
Never one to go down without a fight, Peyton fought for her family, stood up for what she believed in, and refused to give up even when she was clearly defeated.
“Is something funny, Mr. Sheldon?”
“Yeah,” he said, stretching his neck forward. “You.”
As the blood drained from the man’s face, he said, “You people think you’re superior. All of you. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings to see every last one of you under the jail.”
“I’ll remember your words verbatim when I speak with my attorney. Apparently you have a personal vendetta against my family. My lawyer will eat you alive.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Brock twitched his nose and ignored him. Looking out the window, he watched the Killian vehicle pursue the gate, leave the clearing. Ansley was still throwing her tantrum, climbing over the backseat and wrestling with Tristan.
“Trust me. This won’t hurt. You’ll enjoy us,” Bailey assured her.
She gulped. “If you say so.”
After they were suited up and ready to play, Tristan assumed the back position. Elliott gently took her hands and pulled her forward. At the same time, Tristan’s fingers swept down the crack of her ass. “I’ll be easy, baby. If you’re uncomfortable, tell me.”
A few moments later, her ass was saturated with lube. Wedging his fingers between her cheeks, Tristan swirled two digits around her hole. She shivered again as the invasion began.
“Relax, sugar,” Tristan rasped, wiggling his middle finger past the first outer ring, the puckered hole clenching as he thrust higher, stretching her. “You’ll enjoy this more if you just let the pleasure take control. Okay?”
She nodded. Why was she nervous? Didn’t she trust them? Didn’t she want this? Of course! But now that the act was here, ready to unfold, she doubted her abilities.
Ansley was afraid she wouldn’t be able to please them at the same time. Was her body even equipped to accommodate four hard cocks?
Elliott pressed his mouth against hers. “Kiss me,” he said, gently licking his way across her parched lips. “Think of the pleasure. The pain will only last a second, if you experience any discomfort at all.”
“I trust you,” she said, noticing how Tristan jerked behind her.
As if he were punishing her for saying the words he apparently longed to hear himself, he thrust three fingers inside her rectum, stuffing them inside her and then twirling them as high as they would go. She cried out with the unexpected penetration.
Elliott’s kiss smothered away the objection he must’ve feared would eventually fall from her lips. Within a second, maybe two, Tristan’s fingers worked in a scissor-like fashion and her back channel had never been invaded in a more pleasurable way.
That is, until he removed his hand and immediately slid the tip of his erection right to the puckered ring and said, “Tell me when.”
Elliott’s tongue thrust inside her mouth once more. She broke their kiss and made her request. “Fuck me, Tristan. Let me feel you.”
“Your wish is my command.” His cock surged forward, and he bracketed his arm around her waist, pulling her atop him.
“Oh God!” she screamed out as he took her inch by inch, working his cock inside her with one calculated thrust at a time.
Rory lifted his chin. “I was referring to the good times.” He pointed at the long leather couch. “Let’s all take a walk down Memory Lane. Shall we?”
“I’d rather not,” Brock grumbled.
“Oh but I want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around Trixie’s waist. “I’ll never forget the look on Brock’s face the day you walked in here and slapped that poncho against the sofa. You had mascara caked under your eyes. Your crimped hair was dripping like you’d just stepped out of the shower, and you were dressed in that damned white T-shirt.”
“Ah yeah,” Brock said, grinning then. “We all referred to that hot little number as ‘the shirt’ from then on.”
Trixie snorted. “The only thing I remember is being mad as all hell.”
“That was a front,” Brock assured her.
“No it wasn’t,” she said. “I can’t remember why I was so pissed, but the anger was real.” She paused as another flashback entered her mind then. Suddenly, she burst into laughter, tears freefalling from her eyes.
“What is it?” Brock seemingly admired her as if he could eat her up like pancakes, syrup, and butter.
She waved her hand in front of her face. “On the day with the poncho. Don’t you remember? Mitch flew around the desk with a large towel. He draped it over me and started a lecture about catching pneumonia.”
“I do remember,” Rory said, taking a seat on the edge of Mitch’s desk. He threw his head back and laughed. “The best part was when you dropped the towel.”
“Dropped hell. She threw the doggone thing aside with great force.” Brock stretched his legs forward. Trixie eyed the bulge nestled between his thighs, moistening her lips as she distinctly recalled that same look over seven years ago.
“I’ll never forget what you said next.” Rory shook his finger at Brock and together they said, “That’s not your slickest move, sugar.”
Trixie’s nipples spiked as soon as they chimed in together. It was as if she’d been tossed back into the past and was trapped there then.
Her eyes met Brock’s, and then her gaze shifted to Rory. Before her lust took hold and grabbed the best of her, a twinge of sadness crept up behind her and held her hostage.
Turning away from them, she stared at the executive chair behind Mitch’s desk. “He always thought he was such a boss.”
“He was the boss,” Rory reminded her.
“He proudly wore the title for sure,” she said, dragging her fingers over the curvature of the chair Mitch had once occupied. She took a seat and smoothed her hands across the desk calendar, not really paying attention to the dated sheet beneath her fingertips, but more or less marveling in the fact that everything she touched once belonged to a man she still loved.
“What are you thinking?” Brock asked, frowning.
She looked at the walls lined with photographs of distant summers. Memories were forever etched in those images, yet Brock and Rory pretended not to notice.
As if the silence needed interruption, Rory said, “Mitch definitely took his job to the extreme. I pulled a few kitchen duties for punishment.”
“Ah yes, the argument that started it all,” Trixie drawled, tucking away the sadness in hopes of finding joy in happier times.
“Our first kiss was so worth his wrath,” Rory told her, leaning over the desk and planting a peck on her lips.
“You didn’t think so at the time.”
“Oh yes he did.” Brock stretched his arms high above his head before locking clasped hands behind his neck. “Don’t kid yourself. He thought he had earned a major one-up on all of us.”
“That’s why Mitch threw out the dish duty?” Trixie asked.
“Absolutely,” Rory replied.
“Mitch has lived his entire adult life focusing on rewards and punishment, Trixie,” Brock explained. “I’m a little surprised you don’t remember that much about him.”
“How could I forget,” she whispered, realizing her voice trailed then. “Being here makes me remember practically everything about him.”
Rory and Brock swapped a knowing glance. Their shared look absolutely chapped her ass because those exchanges were the only times when she felt completely left out.
The room was dreadfully silent again.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, wondering if she really wanted to know. For the last twenty-four hours, Brock and Rory had seemed slightly guarded.
Brock took a deep breath. “We all needed to get away.”
“Why?” Her gaze hopped between men. “Why now?”
“You know why,” Brock replied, rising from the sofa. He stood in front of her with his arm extended. “Come on, baby. Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll go explore and see what’s changed and what will forever remain the same.”
Splendid new sensations flew through her body, tantalizing her nerve endings as his hands continually pampered her. He stared at her lips, moistened his, and leaned in for a kiss.
Mitch wasn’t one for romance, but the kiss he initiated ranked high on her list of most ravenous kisses. He framed her face and his tongue moved from side to side, gliding inside her mouth before twirling in a beautiful sequence with her tongue.
Breathless, she drew him closer. A moan slipped from her lungs and she embedded her fingers in his hair, raking her fingernails across his scalp. She tried to bring him still closer, more determined to hold him in place.
She wanted his kiss to last forever. She longed for reassurance he was there for the duration. And he’d never leave her again.
Her legs widened and Rory thrust inside her pussy. His tongue seemed to work in time with Mitch’s kiss and she was thrown into a realm of ecstasy she had never known.
Brock sat beside her. Rory took her to the brink once more only to leave her pumping her hips continuously with nothing there to sate the desire. His mouth was too far away now to soothe the burn.
Rory rose from between her legs. Mitch broke their kiss. Brock shifted his weight, hooking his arm over her head and staring down on her as if he appreciated her more than he ever had in the past or ever would in the future.
She wanted to stay locked in time, stuck in that very minute, but right when she was convinced their special moments together should be framed for safekeeping, they formed a tighter circle around her.
They kissed and caressed her. Their hands worked in tandem, moved in time as they scoured her body, exploring her flesh with circular patterns. Their fingers brushed up and down her torso. Their legs entwined.
Fingers pinched her nipples while other hands cupped her full breasts. As they probed her ass and pussy, she was left to long for a more fulfilling penetration.
Steady. Oh God, they were too slow and ever so steady as they fingered her, touched her, and acted as if they had orchestrated this night for well over a dozen years.
Sweet vibrations spiraled through her body as an unfamiliar level of hotness swept over her. She might as well have been leading them to her sex with one perpetual smoke signal, an intimate inferno destined to leave them all gasping for air, begging for one uninhibited drawn breath.
Their hands propelled over her then with fiery precision. Skill existed in their fingertips. Experience lingered in their actions. Their heated bodies came together then in a wicked decree, a declaration of sorts. The combustion was a mix of love and lust, a dance of intimacy too wild to name.
In the end, Rory took the position behind her. Mitch and Brock towered over her.
Then, to her surprise and her inexplicable pleasure, Mitch and Brock locked their arms and entered her pussy together.
She gasped then whimpered, purring out in divine acceptance. She was unaccustomed to such a wide impalement, but her body stretched and welcomed the intrusion more with every stroke.
Rory worked his cock inside her ass, taking her an inch at a time.
“Pretending not to notice public sex acts borders the impossible when the club is open for business.”
“So you understand what’s transpiring out in your parking lot at this very minute.”
She shifted in her chair. There was a darker quality to her brown eyes then, but he only saw the richer shade difference for a moment. She immediately dipped her head and kept her gaze downcast.
Wyatt stroked his chin and studied her. She’d been trained properly, schooled in Domination and submission, and showed an outright sign of submissiveness then.
“Look at me,” he rasped. This woman could have him by the balls at the turn of a hand.
She tilted her head and focused on the window before returning her gaze to him. His entire body went rigid at her defiance. He swallowed once, thinking of how he’d love to test her, use his dominance to strengthen her role as a submissive woman.
Think, hell. Tests were among life’s greatest pleasures.
“What is this meeting about?”
“Look out the window, Kimberly.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I want you to tell me what you see.”
She started to defy him. Defiance existed in her body language and facial expression.
“I want a vivid description. Tell me.”
Kimberly stared at his mouth as if she were totally enchanted by his lips. She acted as if the request proved too enticing to refuse, yet she didn’t avert her gaze to the window again. Instead, her eyes grew heavy. Her stiff jaw loosened and her slender shoulders relaxed.
“Kimberly?” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “It isn’t as if we are strangers.”
She jerked then and stared at their clasped hands. He wondered how much she remembered of the night they’d danced together. It had been several weeks ago, but he still remembered the way her body had moved against his as the music set the pace for a thrashing tempo, a rhythm that had led many couples into the throes of public passion.
She’d had a few drinks. He’d watched her slam shot after shot and then, she’d made her way through the club, checking on her guests and observing—with lust in her eyes—as some of the couples performed openly for all to see.
“They’re fucking,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“Are they?” His cock twitched in his jeans. They’d bounded over their first hurdle and he couldn’t help but feel as if she’d opened the door to something more.
Directness was precisely what he needed from this woman. Hell, who was he fooling? He longed for more than forthcoming replies to his questions.
He stared at her mouth. God, she had such beautiful, full lips. He wondered if they were enhanced as she swiped her tongue over the shape of her upper lip. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he imagined her stretched around his size, her lips bowing in acceptance as he sank his cock deep inside her mouth.
Would she slap him if he reached over and…And before he could stop himself, he inched his hand closer to her face and dragged his thumb across her bottom lip.
A playful nip caught him off guard. She bit at the pad and drew the soft tip between her lips. Her wicked tongue slithered over his fingernail.
His breath hitched with the sensation. His body was erect. His nipples were as hard as flat discs. Mesmerized, God help him, he was totally entranced by this woman.
“How do you know they’re fucking?” he asked quietly. “You’ve only looked at me since I asked the question.”
“Don’t talk,” he grated out.
“What happened to a day or two after tomorrow?”
Sebastian bit back the need to punish her immediately. God help him, the sexy vixen lying before him would surely be the death of him.
She didn’t fight against the restraints. She didn’t object to having her legs attached to the pulleys. Instead, she remained listless with a smile tilting her lips and beautiful hair fanning around her flushed face.
Using a towel to pat her dry, Wyatt reached between her legs and rubbed the plush cotton between her thighs. Once he was satisfied with his progress, he took the lube from Sebastian.
“Is this my reward for telling you about my past with Jason?”
“Damn straight,” Sebastian said, rolling a condom over his erection.
“But you want to punish me. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I want in between those sexy legs of yours. That’s what I want.”
Noting movement in his peripheral, he was aware of Wyatt undressing beside him. Another small tube was selected from the mattress. Wyatt doused himself in a red oily substance, the erotic sound of friction between his hand and cock only fueling Sebastian’s desire for sex, his need to claim and dominate.
Towering over her, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her. Stroking his tongue inside her mouth, he pushed his cock inside her wet folds, succumbing to the tight grip of her pussy as she convulsed around him.
“God help me,” he whispered across her lips as he pulled out and cursed under his breath. “With a grip like that, you could choke a man into quick satisfaction.”
She used the pulleys then to drag her upper body away from the mattress. He dipped his head and assaulted her nipples, cupping one breast and laving the other as he pushed the weight of his cock inside her, impaling her with uneven strokes.
Kneeling next to her, Wyatt tilted her head toward his cock. Her tongue whipped around his size and she immediately drew him between her cheeks, squeezing Sebastian’s shaft harder, with a more determined clench as he entered her again.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Wyatt said, holding on to the bedpost as he threw his weight over her at an angle and forced her to stretch her neck in order to give him head.
Kimberly shifted restlessly, yet she was too confined for the mobility she undoubtedly sought. Her beaded nipples were incredibly tight, and he watched as Wyatt pinched them, drew them into perky gems, pretty little diamonds.
“Look, Mr. Man, I know you think you’re in charge of me, but just because Mark and Spenser called in their favors, doesn’t mean…”
Pow! Puppow! Pow! Pow! Bullets ricocheted off the tin roof, covering her next door neighbor’s shed. The impact from the gunfire made the ice and snow skip across her front lawn. Even more disturbing was the proximity. Several rounds had been fired right at her feet.
“I’m okay!” Pivoting left, she swung the car door open and ducked behind it, aware then of Baron’s heavy footsteps as he ran toward her. Fighting the violent tremors shooting through her body, she crawled inside the sports car.
Before she had a chance to gain her bearings, Baron was there. “Scoot over.” He didn’t give her time to respond. Instead, he scooped her up and tossed her over the console, propelling her body to the driver’s seat. “Damn it, woman! I told you to wait.”
Patience nervously turned the key. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Now the passenger, Baron clutched his pistol in hand. At the same time, he aimed the garage opener at the vacant space before them. As the door lowered, he yelled, “Go!”
She stepped on the gas and hauled ass forward, only to barely brake in time to miss crashing into the house. Behind them, another round of shots pummeled the back of her car.
“Damn it, Patience! I meant get out of here!”
She’d failed to notice the closing door. In the past, she’d managed to put on brave fronts. She was seconds from blowing her courageous act. “How was I supposed to know you were shutting the garage?”
“Doesn’t matter. Go! Drive!” Baron rolled down the window and hung out of the car, firing his automatic weapon. “Anytime now, baby!”
Jolting out of her debilitating angst, she threw the car in reverse and wheeled out of the driveway. Baron never stopped shooting into the trees that lined the vacant lot between Patience’s house and another neighborhood.
A second later, they were hauling ass toward Fletcher. Shaking like a limb, she tried to pull it together, but it was no use. Someone had been waiting for her. They’d scoped out her home and treated her like a target.
Baron placed his hand on her wrist, apparently under the misguided impression that one touch would calm her in some way. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She pulled in the emergency lane and slammed the gearshift in park. Then, she buried her face in her hands and took a few deep breaths. How could he promise to protect her after what he’d just seen?
“Patience.” Baron took her hands in his. “Listen to me. As long as I draw air, nothing and no one will ever hurt you. Do you believe me?”
She searched his eyes, needing to believe him, wanting to take stock in everything he told her, but also realizing they were too close, dangerously close to betraying all sorts of trust. After an uncomfortable silence, she reluctantly nodded.
Never one to step over the line between friendship and an intimacy shared only between lovers, Baron brushed her fingers with his kiss. “All right then. Let’s get someplace safe and give your fathers a call. Let me talk to them and see how they want to handle this. Can you drive?”
“Can I drive?” She tried to make light of the situation when she stepped on the gas but the car only made that revving sound.
She was in neutral.
“Guess I have my answer,” Baron said, exiting the vehicle.
Patience watched him walk in front of the headlights and for a moment, she was as lovestruck as she’d ever been. Baron was there for her. He’d fight for her and he would definitely try to keep her safe. Where were Mark and Spenser when she needed them? Her lovers, as usual, were playing gigs.
Thanks to hit singles, they were always on the road.
“I’m free to do what I want, but—”
“But you want to talk to them.” He was ready to move beyond the Mark and Spenser discussions.
“Then stop this,” she said, her wet lips parting and her little tongue darting out long enough to sweep across them. “Because I’m not strong enough to resist you.”
She seemed surprised then but didn’t say anything more.
“I want you down on your knees, sub,” he whispered, deciding then how he would appropriately punish her. The rewards would come later, but for now, he wanted her mouth surrounding him, her cheeks swelling with his size.
“You want me to suck you off?”
His cock stood straight up with the suggestion. “Yes, sub, but you’ll ask in the most provocative way you can think of and if it doesn’t turn me on, I’ll spank you and when I do, you’ll know my hand is the one that’s been popping that sweet ass. You’ll wear my handprint.”
She grinned but quickly looked away.
“Turns you on. Doesn’t it?”
“You think I’m teasing?”
“No, Sir. I’m just—”
“You’re just what?”
“Surprised,” she replied. “You’ve never talked to me like this.”
Which he was starting to believe may have been part of the problem. “Do Mark and Spenser talk to you like this?”
She seemingly thought about her reply before she said, “No, they don’t. Not like this.”
“Like how?” She liked it. If he had any doubts, her tells gave her away. Her pink cheeks and moistened lips were telling but not nearly as much as those aroused nipples. “Tell me what you mean, sub.”
“It’s not necessarily what you say, but the way in which you say it.”
“And how do I say certain things?”
“Like you want me,” she quickly replied.