Barefoot Bride for Three (18 page)

Chapter Eleven

Trace floated in a wonderful place. Fresh, fragrant coffee drifted past his nose. An aroma of apple pie set his mouth salivating. Someone called his name, but he didn’t want to leave this place of pleasure.

A hand crept under the covers. It stroked his cock, stirring him to life.

“Rise and shine. If you don’t hit the table in three minutes, your brothers will have finished all the apple tarts.”

His feet hit the floor before his brain engaged. He managed to avoid tripping on the sheet but had to grab the wall to stay upright. Light feminine laughter rewarded his performance.

He cracked his eyes open and discovered he faced the wrong way. He blinked at the bright sunlight streaming in the clean window. A sharp smack on his ass made him whirl around. Beth spun away, wooden spoon in hand and delight dancing in her eyes.

“Your brothers have eaten almost everything, sleepyhead.” She danced out of the room.

“What?” he roared. How had he slept in? He never slept in!

He threw aside the bedroom curtain and strode into the kitchen, stopping when he saw Simon and Jack sipping coffee before a plate of pastries. At breakfast the previous day he’d stared at crisp, not burned bacon, perfect eggs, and lump-less porridge. But today a delightful odor of apple and cinnamon wafted past his nose.

“
Your wife
said we couldn’t eat until you sat down to breakfast,” groused Simon.

“So sit your hairy ass in the chair,” ordered Jack.

He glared from one to the other. Soft hands snaked around him and captured his morning glory. Jack must have had the right idea. He’d gotten Beth so hot and bothered last night that she’d pounded on his chest, demanding satisfaction. He’d refused and spent the night cursing. If a wonderful breakfast and horny wife was the result, one frustrating night was worth it.

“You have to kiss the cook before you can eat, big boy,” said Beth, laughing.

He looked at the food, then over his shoulder at his wife.

“No one can eat until I sit down?”

“Those are the rules,” she said. “Husbands have a few privileges.”

He turned to face her, cock rampant. She’d already learned what that look meant. “Trace?” she said, gulping.

“I’m going to kiss the cook all right. But not on those lips.”

“But…”

“You woke the tiger, sweetheart. Now you pay the price.”

He’d taught her that running away only made her “punishment” last longer. He’d take her close to fulfillment with his mouth and fingers, again and again, until she begged him to let her release. If she thought last night was going to make her crazy, today would send her to Bedlam.

He slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress. A blush rose to her face, though her nipples were hard. When he reached her hips, he pushed the fabric over her shoulders and it dropped to her feet. As ordered, she was naked underneath.

Simon and Jack, facing them, twitched on their bench, teeth gritted and fists on the table. Hands on her waist, Trace stepped forward, making her step back. Realizing his plan, Jack and Simon cleared the table, not bothering to sit again. Trace lifted his wife, placed her bottom on the table so her knees touched the edge, and stepped back.

* * * *

Beth, shivering in the morning chill, looked around. The faces of all three men were set in determined lines. Trace sometimes looked like that when he entered her, face screwed up as if in pain. His cock bounced gently in time with the raised vein on his temple. Sunlight caught the diamond drop quivering on his tip. She licked her lips, knowing how good he tasted.

She inhaled when he slid his finger into her cleft. She’d gotten up early to surprise him. When Simon and Jack came in, they quietly sat and watched her. They knew she wore nothing under her dress but her skin. Did they know how Trace had teased her, then refused her pleas? Their obvious hunger for far more than breakfast had her rubbing her wet thighs when she walked. If Trace wouldn’t give her what she needed today, Simon and Jack looked eager to ease her ache.

Trace leaned over and nibbled her breast. She arched into him. He stepped between her thighs and settled her bottom at the edge of the table. The contrast between her hot flesh and the chilly wood made her gasp. He surged into her and she moaned, encouraging his deep thrusts. Her need rose, but before she crested he shuddered, exploding into her.

“That’s not fair, you did that last night!” she cried. She leaned back on her hands, legs dangling. He stood tall and proud, panted and grinning like a fox. She tingled where he’d entered her, twitching for more.

Trace gently pressed until she lay on the table. He set her heels on the edge and backed away. “Boys, show the lady what you can do for her. Unless you’ve got a problem with that, wife? If you don’t want them to touch you, it’ll be a while before I get hard again. You’ll be frustrated until tonight or tomorrow. Just like Simon and Jack have been since snow fell. You want me to help you to your feet?”

Beth flushed. The men had felt this need that drove her crazy for that long? They’d watched her walk around with hard nipples, having only had a taste, yet had never tried to force her?

Her breasts tingled along with the button between her legs. If they had that much self-control, she could trust them with every part of her life. This was it. She was ready to do with another man what she’d been taught was only for her husband.

Aching for release, she shook her head. “I want more.”

“Obliged,” said Jack.

He stared at her body like a starving man. Nostrils flaring, he stripped as if his pants were full of red ants. His thick cock throbbed, bouncing up and down with each heartbeat.

He knelt on the floor between her legs and trailed his fingers over her petals with a light, frustrating touch. She writhed, needing more. He stood, eyes wide and mouth grimacing, and guided his cock into her, hissing as if her channel burned him.

He pressed forward, stretching her in a most wonderful way. She met Trace’s eyes. Not angry, but proud. She watched her husband as his brother thrust deep into her. She wrapped her legs around the man, determined to keep him until her need was met. But Jack exploded within seconds, heaving as if he’d outrun a bear. She gasped with need, still unfulfilled, and released him.

“My turn, I believe,” said Simon. Jack pulled out and leaned against the wall, gasping for air and grinning like a wolf.

“You’d better take care of me first, or I’ll never bake anything sweet again!”

“I’ll always take care of you, Beth,” he replied. He plucked her nipples, raising her heat before sliding in. He was longer but narrower than Trace. He bent and angled up inside her, sliding against something wonderful. She clenched him in surprise and delight. Trace grasped a breast and kissed her nipple. Simon continued to rub against her spot. He fingered her lips and teased her clit. She closed her eyes, arms flat on the table as she writhed.

Both breasts were engulfed in hot mouths, their teeth lightly rasping. She groaned as Simon stretched her. He drove her need even higher when he held her hips and pounded hard. She lifted her hips to meet each thrust, just as eager.

“That’s it, Beth,” growled Trace. “Let go. You deserve your reward.”

Simon rubbed her clit just so and she exploded. Simon prolonged her release, pumping a few more times before roaring in triumph.

* * * *

“Remember the time Pa caught you in the barn with the peddler’s old maid daughter? You musta been fifteen.” Simon dished himself more potatoes.

All three men arrived for supper that evening still wet from the creek, boasting about which of them half-drowned the others. Their high spirits and one-upmanship continued all during the meal.

“Yep,” replied Trace. “Blistered my butt so bad I ate standing up for weeks.”

“Yeah, but did he catch you before or after?”

“Just starting round three. She was a demanding gal. ”

The three men laughed. After working all day scrubbing clothes and floors, cooking and gardening, Beth still wasn’t sure what she thought about that morning’s craziness.

At least the tension that had strained every moment was gone. She’d taken a quick sponge bath in the kitchen but couldn’t forget the feeling of each man coming in her. Would they expect the same thing now? She had enough work to do without taking care of the “personal needs” of three men.

“Simon, now that the road’s dry, you’d better return the wagon,” said Trace. “Tomorrow, first thing.”

“I’ll follow with ours,” said Jack.

Trace frowned at him. “Why take our wagon into town?”

“I expect Beth has a few things to buy now she’s seen what’s missing.”

Beth looked at Trace. Would he trust her to go to town with his brothers? Or should she say, did he trust his brothers with her?

“You need things, Beth?”

“Seeds for the garden, more preserving jars. A few more pie plates would be good since you men seem to think you need one pie each. And I’d like to mail a letter—”

“All right, we’ll all go to town in the morning. There might be a letter from Texas. I forgot to check, with the wedding and all.”

“You mean the bedding,” said Simon, winking at Beth.

She blushed and looked down. The heat she felt had something to do with her time over the hot stove, but not much.

“The Elliott boys ride again!” Jack’s wide smile showed what he used to charm the ladies.

“I’d like to thank Miss Lily for the lovely nightgown,” said Beth. “Would I be allowed to do that?”

“With three of us escorting you, no one would dare touch you,” said Trace.

“But, would it ruin me in the eyes of the ladies of the town? I’m going to be living here the rest of my life, and if I’m not accepted…”

“Trace said you spent three days in jail, barefoot, ogled by damn near every man in town,” drawled Jack. “Big Joe wanted to marry you in the saloon, but a half-drunk Preacher read the good book over you in the jail.” He sucked his teeth like an old miner. “Darlin’, you were ruined even before you slept in the same house with two horny bachelors.”

“Nothing happened between us!” Their guffaws raised her ire. “Not until this morning. And no one would know anything about that!”

Trace lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Sweetheart, if Jack and Simon don’t spend the day holed up at Lily’s, they’ll know.”

She opened her mouth, thought about it, then groaned. If they bedded Lily’s girls, no matter how clean, she wouldn’t want them to touch her. But if they didn’t, she’d be labeled “no better than she should be.” Either way, she was ruined. The spinsters, jealous widows, and haughty wives would attack her. Not that she wanted anything to do with them.

“If you smile like you did this morning, damn near every man will wish he’d been the one to offer for you. Even the married ones,” said Jack.

“The women will be jealous you’ve got three strong men to pamper you,” said Simon.

“Pamper?” she replied, setting her fork on her empty plate. “I spend the day working my fingers to the bone, and you think I’ve been pampered? Listen here, you—”

Before she could finish the sentence Trace tilted back her chair and captured her mouth. After the session that morning, instead of being fulfilled, she wanted more. All day, her pussy lips rubbed against each other as she worked. The cool bath hadn’t helped. His kiss engulfed her, his tongue plundering her mouth as she wanted him to do elsewhere.

Someone scooped her up and Trace broke the kiss.

“I say we pamper the lady in comfort,” said Jack, the one holding her.

Trace nodded, a wicked light in his eyes.

Beth struggled to get loose, but Trace shook his head. He lifted the curtain to their bedroom to let Jack and Simon through. He quickly stripped off all his clothes. Jack passed her over as he followed Simon. Soon she was the only one dressed.

“I’ll brush her hair,” said Simon.

“I’ll do her feet,” said Jack.

Trace set her down on the bed. The noisy springs, ones she cursed every night after Trace filled her need with his own, creaked under her. He slid his hands under her skirt, raising the fabric to her thighs. Jack unbuttoned her boots and Trace unrolled her stockings. She stood facing her husband while Simon let her hair down and began brushing. She loved it when Trace brushed her hair, though he insisted she be naked first. He’d used the soft brush on other parts of her, too.

Trace suckled her through her gown as he flicked open her buttons. There were a few missing, thanks to his urgent need the previous night. She hadn’t yet found them all to sew them back on.

“When Simon’s finished with your hair, I’m going to cover your eyes,” said Trace.

“Why?”

“So you won’t know who’s doing what.”

She shivered. Would that be better or worse? If she didn’t know who touched her, she couldn’t feel as guilty. Not that she had anything to feel guilty about. Her husband wanted her to do this, and a man’s word was law in his own home. Trace wanted her to enjoy being loved. With so few women in Montana Territory, perhaps other wives shared more than one man. It would be wonderful to have women friends.