Cowboys for Christmas (MFM)
[Ménage Amour: Erotic Cowboy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, HEA]
Julie Kensworth opens her door to more than a blizzard and greets two wayward cowboys. She realizes right away she's headed straight for the eye of the storm.
Brandon Blake and Quinn Stewart are a long way from home. They're looking for a warm place to hang their hats while they try to wait out the snow and ice, which continue to gain momentum.
Julie is an author, and she's not just the average writer. She's one of the most notorious in the world. When Quinn and Blake learn of Julie's profession, well, needless to say, their minds churn with all sorts of ideas, most of them geared toward how they can heat up the cold winter nights ahead where anything can happen.
Note: This book was previously published with another publisher.
A Siren Erotic Romance
- Barefoot Okie
Brandon brought out the cards and booze. “Take a seat, my lady. We’ll teach you how to play poker.”
She tried to put on her best poker face from the start. “Are we playing strip poker? If so, by the looks of things, you two are hoping for a quick loss.”
“I never lose,” Brandon told her confidently.
We’ll see about that. She took her seat. “So we’re playing for cash?”
“Nope,” Brandon replied, tilting his head toward Quinn. “He doesn’t gamble.”
“Well, that’s a first. I thought all cowboys chased wild women and gambled in high-stakes poker.”
“Not this one,” Quinn replied tightly.
Brandon passed around the jar of moonshine. Julie took a sip and to, her surprise, liked the smooth embodiment of blueberry shine. “You mean you don’t have a wild woman waiting for you in Texas?”
“No. And I don’t have one waiting for me in any other state, either.”
“Yet,” Brandon said, arching his brow as he studied her.
She thought about telling Brandon she caught that. “Well, one of you should explain the allure of poker. I mean, if you can’t win anything, what’s the point in playing?”
Brandon shot her a devilish grin and leaned across the table. “I do believe the lady is a gambler. So tell me, what kind of stakes would you like to play for tonight, Julie?”
Quinn took the jar and drank. “Hmm, sounds interesting. What do you have in mind exactly?”
“We’re all adults here. I’m sure the winner can think of something.”
“All right,” Brandon said, shuffling the cards. “What do you say we teach a woman how to play cards?”
Quinn grinned. “I have a feeling the lady already knows how to play.”
Julie took the jar again and drank. This time, she took a man’s drink instead of a dainty little sip.
One thing about it, poker or no poker, this game and the rules thereof were about to change for the better.
* * * *
An hour later, Quinn remembered why he didn’t gamble for a living. He folded almost every hand, and when he bluffed with a raise, he always lost.
Instead of chips, they used change—Julie had two old wine jars full of pennies—and a tally sheet. Whoever won ten hands would be declared the winner. Since Brandon and Julie were closing in on the magic number, Quinn folded after only a glance at his cards. No sense in prolonging the inevitable, especially when delicious outcomes were practically within their reach.
Quinn gave Julie his undivided attention. She arched a brow and studied her cards. Undoubtedly, she wanted this win. A win would put her at ten.
As much as he’d like to see Julie victorious, in this particular situation, Quinn was cheering for Brandon. With Brandon, they were guaranteed a good time.
Winner’s choice. Quinn could almost see her rocking back and forth between them.
“Quinn?” Brandon asked, snapping his fingers. “Are you still with us?”
“I said, ‘what do you think winner’s choice should be’ and you’re over there zoned out. Guess I’m on my own, huh?”
“Like hell,” Quinn said, looking at the table. “Who won?”
Brandon snickered, turned up his cards, and said, “With a straight flush, I’m betting on me.”
Julie cleared her throat. “That is a pretty hand.”
Brandon chuckled. “Yes indeed.”
Julie studied her cards again, delaying the outcome and congratulations due the probable champion. “You cheated, didn’t you?”
Quinn held his breath. Brandon was a poker player through and through. When he won, he won fair and square.
“Turn ’em up,” Brandon said, obviously agitated.
Reluctantly, she flipped her wrist and showed her straight. “I was hoping for winner’s choice.”
Brandon gathered the cards and stacked them in the middle of the flat surface. Then he backed away from the table, retrieved three tumblers, and poured a round of blueberry shine. “Let me guess, you would’ve asked for a backrub?”
“How’d you know?”
“I know women.”
“I bet you do.”
“He can vouch for me,” Brandon said, pointing to Quinn.
“No doubt,” Quinn supported him, unable to look at Julie. Sensing her disappointing defeat, he finally asked, “How far are you willing to go?”
“That far, huh?” Brandon teased her.
“You’ll never know unless you ask,” Julie said, standing.
Quinn’s pulse took off at a running go. Julie just said the right thing to two horny men.
Brandon tossed back his fruity liquor. Quinn followed his lead, and Julie was right behind them. Brandon cleared his throat, and Quinn prayed Brandon found the voice he’d apparently lost.
A few seconds passed, and no one moved a muscle. When the tension became thick enough to choke them, Brandon bravely broke the silence.
“Well, Julie—or in this case, maybe I should call you Carla—I’m asking.” His gaze caught hers, and with a wicked smile, he added, “Honey, in fact, I’m not just making a polite request. I’m groveling like a man in heat. What’d ya say we get naked?”
She was enslaved, imprisoned by the men watching her. Hands propelled over her. Fingers wandered. Bodies came closer together.
Oh God! They were holding her, caressing her, and definitely arousing her!
Quinn positioned her in front of him. Brandon remained at her back.
Brandon’s hands slid over her collarbone, and his fingers dipped lower. With a final gentle massage, he clutched the soft material and opened her robe, sliding the only clothing she wore away from her shoulders.
“Oh holy hell.” Quinn’s eyes widened. They looked greener than the ink on new money. His hot gaze flickered with exposed lust, a true masculine need.
Suddenly, Julie became self-conscious. She folded her arms over her chest.
“No. I want to look at you,” Quinn rasped, pulling her hands away from her breasts.
She wanted to admire Quinn, too. He still wore his damn towel, and until her heart slowed down, she wasn’t about to make a suggestion certain to provoke cardiac arrest.
Brandon’s dick pressed against her hip, and one exposed cock was enough. Right?
No, absolutely not, she mused.
She became more aware of her sexuality. From the moment she’d first met Quinn and Brandon, she’d been off balance. The kiss she’d missed made her hungry and curious. The men who’d slept in the next room had fed her longing and heightened her desires.
She swallowed again. She was hanging on by a thread, slipping into a world of the unknown and fully recognizing that at any minute, at any given time, she’d take flight, and only then would she find her second wind and simply soar.
“I’ve never been with two men,” she finally admitted, wondering if she’d start babbling like some of her heroines often did in her books.
Brandon’s lips fell to her nape. “Come on, sugar. Considering what you write, you don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” His breath was hot, and his raspy voice fell to the room with a raw quality, indicating a man’s building appetite.
Quinn cupped her neck. His thumb raked across her bottom lip. “I believe you, Julie. I’ll always believe you.”
Before she analyzed the promise of always, the little word that rang out with a futuristic sound, Quinn’s lips crashed against hers. He didn’t take the easy way out, and he didn’t nip and nibble. His lips met hers in a fiery storm, and when his tongue pressed through the seam of her lips, her moan was met by a masculine growl.
Brandon reached around her body and fondled her breasts. His fingers tweaked her erect nipples. “Such a pretty lady, a sexy woman.”
His voice inspired her. Somehow she finally relaxed.
Brandon ground his erection against her hip. She longed to touch him, wrap her hand around his length, and show him how a woman appreciated a man who came to bed prepared, ready, and quite anxious for good loving.
Quinn continued kissing her. Brandon’s hands glided down her body until he reached her hips. The grinding continued.
She thought of his earlier words. He’d warned her.
“Groveling like a man in heat.”
Now she believed him. His body easily delivered the promises he’d made.
Brandon worked her hips to and fro, allowing her to feel the strength of his erection. He rubbed the head of his dick against her bottom, pressing his shaft deeper into her flesh and whispering the most delectable promises of a good fuck, a long slow screw, and a night of loving she’d never forget.
“What can we do to please you?” Quinn asked, teasing her lips with his.
“You’re doing everything that pleases me.” She raked her fingers along the edge of Quinn’s towel, searching for the ideal time to strip him of the only material covering him.
He caught her hand and reared back, studying her with a solemn expression, but with heated eyes she’d store to memory for as long as she lived. She would enjoy Quinn and Brandon. She would savor this night. Regardless of what happened afterward, she would cherish their time together.
“Let’s do this right,” Brandon breathed, stretching out behind her.
“Will you let me taste your sweet pussy, sweetheart?” Quinn whispered at her ear. “Can you do that for me?”
And just like that, she was lost.
She became only slightly aware of where they were headed. Brandon pulled her to him, offering her his cock like a man giving a woman her first erotic present.
Sprawled over his stomach, she opened her mouth and licked the crest, sipping the tip of Brandon’s dick while feeling the first intrusion of fingers twirling inside her, gradually invading her pussy. Then all of a sudden, the heat kicked up a notch.