Tag dismounted and lifted Liberty down, too. Holding her hand, he took her down the creek bank to where it flattened out in a bed of round river stones. Taking her around the curve, he found Keeg where he’d guessed—splashing off the sweat and mud of his work in the middle of the creek.
Like Orion, Keeg was an inch shorter than Tag. Like all of them, he was big, consistent with the family genes, and muscled, consistent with the family work and lifestyle.
He came up out of the water with a roar that was in large part a reaction to the cold of the water. Tag knew exactly how Keegan felt—he’d dunked himself at the end of his workday just twenty-four hours earlier. The air around them was almost warm, but the creek cold as hell.
Keeg flipped his hair back and scrubbed water off his face even as he started wading toward the bank. He was bare-assed naked and just about out to his knees before he saw he had company.
Comically, he went back down, meaning, Tag figured, to squat himself back into the cover of the water. But he lost his balance and went ass over teakettle into the creek.
“Oops,” Lib said quietly at his side, acting like she didn’t want to laugh.
“Yeah,” Tag said. “That would be my baby brother.”
“I’ll maybe just…look off this way,” she allowed.
She turned her back, but Tag stepped around so he had her tucked into him. He watched over her shoulder while Keeg awkwardly found his feet again and made his way out of the creek. He stepped hurriedly into his jeans, a process not all that easy or graceful, given that he was still sopping wet. He got himself into his boots, too, before he approached.
“Guess it’s safe now,” Tag told Lib.
She took a cautious peek over her shoulder before she turned and faced Keegan.
Tag introduced the two.
Lib put a hand out—a bit brave given that she’d just seen the guy naked and he was still bare-chested—and Keeg murmured a nice-to-meetcha.
But Keeg was never a guy to leave even the obvious unsaid. “Water’s cold,” he told Lib. “Really cold.”
“I mean—” Tag knew what he meant and wished he could stop the guy saying it, but that had never worked before. “Shrinkage, you know?”
“Yeah,” Tag said. “I’m sure she gets it.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t want her to have any doubts about…you know…the Harper men’s…natural resources.”
“Yeah,” Tag tried again. “We got it. And she doesn’t. No worries.”
“Just makin’ sure.”
* * * *
Keegan was as cute as could be.
He was a lot like his brother—a big, handsome cowboy. But he had a disarming sweetness that made Liberty smile. He might look a tad sheepish about their fairly wacky introduction but not truly embarrassed. Liberty guessed he had enough charm to compensate for the most awkward of situations. She figured he knew it, too. Certainly, he seemed to take for granted that she would smile upon him, just like life probably did. She knew he was six years younger than Tag, and that Tag had taken seriously his older brother role for many years. Keegan wasn’t a kid, but it was clear he was much more light-hearted than his brother.
Though not so different in all ways. She’d tried not to look, she really had, but she could nonetheless testify that, shrinkage or not, the Harper men had nothing to be ashamed of. With regard to their natural resources.
That observation applied to the brawn of their chests and shoulders, too, if one were to count them among the Harper natural resources, too. Which Liberty did.
Tag took a moment to look over the work Keegan had accomplished that day. Liberty discerned that digging out the creek bank and moving stone to build a small dam, forming a wide, shallow watering hole for their animals, was a project the two had been working on together. That Tag would have been out there working on it today, too, except that he’d spent the afternoon with her in his bed.
“I didn’t see Ry’s rig,” Tag said to Keegan now. “Where’s he off to?”
“In town to resupply. You gave him kitchen duty this week, remember?” Keegan shot Liberty a wink. “That was for you,” he said. “Otherwise, you’d have a week of buffalo steaks and buffalo burgers to look forward to, since that’s how Tag’s and my cooking skills run.”
Amused, Liberty looked up at Tag.
“Well, it’s true,” he admitted. “Orion’s ex was a chef. He learned to like some variety from her, so he learned to cook a little, too.”
Keegan smirked as he looked from his brother to Liberty. “That switch cost Tag two weeks straight in the kitchen.” He winked again. “He must like you.”
“She knows I do.” Tag didn’t seem to be as entertained by Keegan as Liberty was. “Put your shirt on.”
“That’s gorgeous,” he said. “Watching your fingers going down on yourself. Your pretty pink nails disappearing into your undies.” He leaned forward, hooking the band of her panties and tugging them down in a vee. “Now I want to see them disappear into you.”
Liberty huffed out a breath. And then…submitted. She slid her fingers further than her clit. Further…until she pushed them into her pussy.
“Open your legs more,” came the next instruction. “Let me see.”
She bent her knees and tilted her pelvis, giving him the view he wanted.
“That’s good, baby. Do it. Finger fuck yourself.”
It was so hot, imagining what he was seeing. Watching the pink of her nails slide in, and out, in.
She took a couple steps toward him. He kept his gaze where it was, watching her fuck herself. But he reached up with one hand and took hold of the clamp over her nipple. He squeezed, and she cried out.
“Come,” he told her. Like it was a thing he could command, just like everything she’d done for him already.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t rub herself and hold herself up and let go that much. But he gave the order a second time. He pressed one knee against one of hers and put a hand on her hip for support and told her once more.
Then she had to do it. She fell forward, her head burrowed against his. With him holding her, keeping her up, squeezing the clamp down on her tit. With her still tugging that chain to stimulate the other side and rubbing her clit, she came.
She shivered and quaked and cried out. Nearly falling to her knees, she let go. Let her body weight fall into his arms. Let him hold her as she whimpered out the last of it.
Then, mindlessly cooperating as he moved her, situated her, like she was willingly going to her own execution, she went up onto the bed. He pushed her down on it, right in the center. He walked around to the head of the bed and tugged her hands up until he had each one suspended from the cuffs. Moving lower, he put a forearm under her hips and lifted so he could stuff a couple pillows under her.
Her position did exactly what he’d said. She couldn’t put any of her weight on her arms, so her tits pressed down into the bed, inciting the sting from those nipple clamps. The way he’d propped up her hips made matters worse.
Made her, also, totally vulnerable. Exposed.
Made her helpless. Unable to resist. To do anything at all when he put his hand on one cheek of her ass. Anything but take it.
“Did you let Keegan fuck you?”
He spanked her. Just like she knew he would, when he’d put his hand there. Something about the heat of it, the weight of his silence, the long moment when he’d done and said nothing.
She wasn’t surprised at the question, or at the spanking, either. The way her body responded though—tensing, heating, wetting—that came as surprise.
“Don’t lie to me.” His hand wasn’t touching her, but, still, she could feel the heat of it.
He leaned over her, his breath hot near her cheek. “Did you kiss him?”
He spanked her again, hard.
He was moving over her, his hands busy. She groaned when he pressed something into her ass, distending her, filling her with a cold shock of lube.
“Did you let him touch you?”
He shoved something—cold and hard, not him, but…a butt plug—into her ass. Then he spanked her again.
“Did he make you come?”
Another spanking. On the same side, the same place, so it burned. Roughly, he tugged at each leg, opening her up, spreading her. He punched his fist into the pillow between her thighs, making room for…a vibrator. He set it there, buzzing hard, nestled between the pillow and…her clit.
“Did you touch him?”
“Did you suck him? Did you make him come?”
He spanked her anyway. He was on his knees now, between her legs, the denim of his jeans still there, rough against the inside of her thighs. With no warning, he shoved his fingers into her cunt. Deep, hard. All of them, maybe, almost fisting her.
His hand came down at her left shoulder so he was looming over her, still fucking her with his hand. “I said you could. I said I’d love you anyway.”
“I told you!”
She shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. She’d been so sure he couldn’t have meant that. But she could hardly think, hardly unearth a single, functional brain cell. There was so much distraction—too much. The clamps, the vibrator, his hand thrusting into her.
He took his hand out of her and abruptly tore the butt plug out, too. He pressed harder against her, gnashing, the zipper of his fly roughly scraping her most tender, sensitized tissues. Then his cock went to her ass and shoved in.
With his weight on both hands now, he lowered over her. He scraped his teeth along her shoulder until his mouth was at her ear. He fucked once, hard, into her ass.