Stranded at the Rodeo (MFM)

Ransomed Hearts 3

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 40,824
5 Ratings (4.2)

[Ménage Amour: Erotic Consensual BDSM Cowboy Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, public exhibition, whipping, HEA]

Pursued by his own internal and external demons, hard-edged Dom Noah Easterling must protect Emma Londyn from domestic terrorists while his agency hunts the cell’s ringleaders. Emma is his sister’s best friend, and keeping her at arm’s length isn’t easy. Tempted by her strong will and beauty, he seduces her and introduces her to his BDSM lifestyle, helping her resolve her fear of strong, dominant men.

When the terrorists locate them, Noah’s best friend and fellow Dom, Ryan Lynch, joins forces with them, assisting Noah with her protection. Together, they flee across North Texas to find a safe haven. But Noah and Ryan share a past and a penchant for sharing women. They’ve often hoped to find one woman that would love both of them.

Could she be the answer to both their dreams?

A Siren Erotic Romance

Stranded at the Rodeo (MFM)
5 Ratings (4.2)

Stranded at the Rodeo (MFM)

Ransomed Hearts 3

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 40,824
5 Ratings (4.2)
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Cover Art by Christine Kirchoff



The second Emma hit the ground, screaming stopped and talking started. She backed away from him, one hand digging in her bag while she rattled off a butt-load of irrelevant info.

“Chill,” he said, “just chill and let me explain, Emma.”

Her head came up when she heard her name, right along with a can of Mace pointed in his direction.

“Whoa, doll. You don’t need that with me.” Both hands out in front of his body, Noah continued. “That man you were talking to was not a federal agent, and I have no worries about putting him on the ground, since he tried to snatch you.”

“I don’t believe you.” The Mace can still hovered, but Noah doubted she’d be able to get anywhere near his eyes with the difference in height. She was just a little thing, barely more than five feet tall barefooted, and the boots she wore didn’t give her much advantage unless she was kicking a mule—or the side of his leg. It still smarted.

“Give me a minute and I’ll prove it.” He lifted an eyebrow and waited until the hand with the Mace was at her side, then reached deep in his pocket for his credentials.

“I don’t usually carry identification when I’m dressed like this, but since you weren’t expecting me, I thought you might need to check me out.”

He flipped the thin black wallet open in front of her and Emma took it from him.

“Noah Easterling?” She shook her head. “Not possible.”

What the hell? “Not possible? What do you mean, not possible?”

“I know Noah Easterling, and you’re not him. Not by a longshot.” Emma pulled her fist, the one holding the Mace, up to her chest and tried to step around him.

“Hold up, little girl. You step out the door and that guy chatting you up is going to pack you in a body bag as leverage against Sara. You really want that to happen?”

“How do you know Sara?”

Noah took a step back, leaned on the door, and crossed his ankles, hoping she’d take a good long look and see past his hair and clothes.

Shoulders moving like a rollercoaster ride, she studied him with flashing eyes filled with skepticism, his badge still in her hand. “Tell me why I should believe you, and make it good.”

“Ask me something only Paige’s brother would know.”

“Who are her parents?”

“Too easy, doll. Harry and Samantha Easterling.”

Her eyes never left him, but her feet scuffed against the concrete floor. “What’s her safe word?”

Noah smiled, a little surprised. “She told you about that?”

“Do you know the word, or not?”

“Yeah. Barney.” He eyed the Mace and asked, “Ready to put that little weapon away?”

Emma shook her head and raised the can again. “Why do you think that’s her safe word?”

“Smart girl. Multi-part question. She chose Barney because it was the name of her favorite pet, an orange cat with white feet. She liked the name, but not the show with the dinosaur.”

She stared at him for a minute before the Mace can lowered to her side.

“This is real?” she asked, offering him the wallet.

He shoved it back in his pocket and nodded.

“You don’t look like Paige’s brother.”

“I’ve been out of town for a while.”

A hint of a smile played across her lips and Noah’s heart took a dive. Damn. She was a beauty when she wasn’t trying to kick him in the nuts.

“Living in a bar, I presume?”

“Not quite.” He reached behind his head and grasped the ragged edge of the poncho he’d picked up from a vendor outside the rodeo grounds and pulled it over his head. Turning it inside out, he slipped it over her head, covering most of what she wore and ignoring the sound of disgust she made.

“I’m not wearing this stinky thing.”

“Keep it on. It hides your body, and the hat behind you will hide most of your face.” Noah pulled the bandana from his head, scooped the mass of unkempt braids into a ponytail, and piled the mess on top of his head before grabbing a black felt Stetson-used-to-be from the bench along the wall. “Hurry, little girl. We have places to go.”

Emma’s green eyes blinked at him from under the ugly-ass hat he’d given her. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t. Just take me on faith. I might surprise you.”

Noah grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the main hall. Once out among the crowd, he cuddled her close to his side. “Keep your chin down, like you’re trying to avoid stepping in shit, and act like you’re into me. Stay as close as possible.”

The feel of her small body next to his fired all his protective urges. Hell, it’d been more than a year since he’d held a woman this close without the pretense of quick sex and a drug score. Undercover work sucked big time unless you were into anonymous sex, and while he’d always had an appetite for women, he’d missed the emotional connection. Fucking sign of getting old when sex needed to come with feelings.




Emma woke to the sound of the rain falling against the windows. Faint light bled through the blinds and illuminated the living room. The fire was blazing and Noah was an unseen presence in the house.

She stretched, her body remembering where and how he’d touched her in the early hours of the morning. His hard hands and gentle touch left indelible marks on her body, memories of pleasure to cherish and a standard to judge any man who might come into her life in the future. He made her sing when she expected to whimper and moan, her body surprised by the intensity of sensations. Strong, demanding without pushing, he’d shown her ways to fly apart while he held her. Not at all what she’d expected. But Noah wasn’t her typical date material.

Emma stood and wrapped one of the quilts around her then ran down the chilly hall to the master bathroom. The radiant heat under the tiles was a blessing. The quilt fell to the floor and she surveyed her body in the mirror while luxuriating in the heat. An oval bruise darkened her collarbone just to the left of her throat and the skin just below the bruise was reddened. She flushed, remembering the feel of Noah’s stubble whiskers rasping against the tender skin. Her hands went to her breasts, to the aching nipples, still tight and waiting for his mouth. She lifted them and looked for more whisker marks, expecting to find them on the underside of her breasts where he’d spent so much time.

“Such a beautiful view.”

Emma jumped, Noah’s sensual voice catching her unaware, and her hands fell to her sides.

“No, don’t stop, Emma. I like the picture you’re presenting. Touch yourself again. Pinch those tasty nipples for me.”

His words went to her head, need building within her body, and she did as told. In the mirror, she met his gaze then followed his eyes when they dropped to her hands.

“Don’t. Stop.”

She drew in air and convinced her fingers to move, pinching and tweaking as he directed from across the room. Noah leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest, the epitome of calm and collected, but the tension in his every muscle gave away his intense interest. He was alive with heat, with lust.

Knowing the desire was all for her and that her actions fueled it made Emma wanton, made her a servant to his instructions. Her heart beat a little faster, her breath quickened, and the apex of her thighs grew wet and ready for him.

What would happen when he actually touched her?

“Slide your hands down your belly.”

His dark tone was hypnotic, forcing air out of her lungs, and her sex twitched. He shouldn’t have this much power over her but she couldn’t stop her reactions. She released her nipples and spread her fingers across her ribcage then moved south slowly, one tentative inch at a time, while her eyes remained focused on his expression.

His lips parted and that hot tongue of his swiped across the upper lip like he wanted a taste. She hummed with the imagined feel of it on her skin.

Her hands dipped lower, delving into the curls covering her core and she paused.

“Did I tell you to stop?” he growled.

Via the mirror, she raised a brow. A minor act of defiance, but judging by the heat in his eyes, he took it seriously.

“I expect to see those fingers in your pussy. Now.”

He didn’t shout, didn’t threaten, but his tone increased the moisture gathering just below her hand. Her desire to wait evaporated. Her right hand dropped low enough for her to reach the top of her slit, and she dipped her index finger inside.

“Good girl,” he crooned, and her body swayed with the emotion of his praise sweeping across her senses.

“Find the nub that makes you crazy. Find it now.”

Tightening her knees, she delved within her folds until she found the nub of her clitoris. She circled it, making it last while he observed. His expression was intense, focused solely on her hand, and it gave her the opportunity to admire him without his mask. He hid so many things from her. His kindness. His gentle nature. The best parts of his soul were disguised by dominance.

Her body thrilled to the dominance but longed for the rest of him.


She sagged into his arms, trembling with the need to come and the pleasure zinging through her body. Noah set her on the counter and stripped out of his jeans. The sight of his erection, the long, hot length of it ready and willing to work its magic on her, had Emma’s body humming with urgent need.

He stepped into the shower and turned on the water. In seconds, steam filled the enclosure. She stared, unable to take her eyes off his body. The sleek lines of him, the ropes of muscle shifting as he moved, the flex of his calves and thighs bringing him closer to where she sat mesmerized her.

He lifted her into his arms and kissed her like she was the only woman he wanted and his eyes echoed the emotion. Insane desire pulsed within her, taking the ache of her body to the extreme. When her feet hit the floor, she was in the shower.

He stepped away and water cascaded over her, heating her body even more than his touch.

Too much heat.

Too much need.

She was burning for him. Emma turned away from the spray and found him standing in the shower’s opening, a condom in hand. His chest rose and fell with his breath and he rolled the latex on with a leisurely hand, prolonging the anticipation.



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