Corralled (19 page)

“Hand me a pillow.”

Kyle yanked up both pillows and tossed them to Hank.

“Lift your hips,” Hank commanded. “This pussy is mine.”

Lainie obeyed, keeping her eyes on Kyle’s face— not that he was looking at her.

“Hand me the lube,” Kyle said to Hank.

The tube was passed. He squirted a line between her breasts.

LORELEI JAMES 9

Then his hands were squeezing the fleshy globes together as his cock pushed in and out of the tight tunnel he’d created. “Ah, fuck.

I like that.”

Hank used his finger in a side- to- side motion on her clit as he worked his cock into her pussy.

More
,
more
,
more
, echoed in her lust- addled brain. She tried to arch up to force Hank to sink into her completely, but his grip on her hips kept her locked down. He growled at her.

Kyle’s eyes were riveted to her chest as he snapped his pelvis.

Driving against her pliant flesh. Thumbs strumming over her nipples. Focused on the visual of his cock disappearing into the narrow channel he’d created, then watching as the head peeped out below the hollow of her throat.

The sexy look of need on his face was almost enough to get her off.

“This isn’t working,” Hank said. Kyle stilled as Hank scrambled to his knees. He adjusted the pillows under her ass and she let him angle her lower body, placing the backs of her thighs against his muscled chest. He withdrew and slammed back in.

Lainie gasped. Goose bumps dotted her legs, creating a tightening in her groin.
God, yes!
she thought, but didn’t shout, because Hank would probably stop fucking her, just because he could.

Hank groaned. “That’s better.”

“She likes it too,” Kyle murmured.

Her hands clenched into fists and she jerked against the cuffs as the men fucked her. Showed her who retained control. Who was in charge of her pleasure.

Being bored had never been so good.

The humid, heady scent of sweat and sex, mixed with the sounds of harsh male breathing, turned the room into a sultry playground of carnal delights. Both men were lost to sexual greed.

Skin— slapping, rubbing, sliding, gliding— against skin.

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Abruptly Kyle released her breasts and rose up on his knees.

He brought one hand beneath her neck, using the other to guide his cock to her mouth. “Suck the head.”

Her lips closed over the crown, beneath the rim, and she flicked her tongue back and forth over the sweet spot.

“That’s it. Faster. I’m fucking close.”

He stayed still, one hand braced on the wall, the other behind her neck, eyes avid as her mouth worked his cock. Kyle’s musky, masculine scent overwhelmed her, as did her need to please him.

To hear that grunt of satisfaction as he came. To know she’d brought him there.

Then it happened. He growled, “Open,” and shoved deep.

She’d barely gotten control of her gag reflex when he started coming down her throat.

“Swallow,” he demanded. “All of it.”

She watched Kyle’s face. He threw back his head, closed his eyes, letting his mouth go slack as his cock pulsed on her tongue.

His grip loosened on her neck as he gave himself over. An incredible feeling of power rolled through her at seeing his lack of control.

When their eyes met, he grinned widely, tracing her lips still wrapped around the root of his cock. “You look so gorgeous with my dick buried in your mouth.”

Hank snorted.

That was when Lainie realized Hank hadn’t moved at all while Kyle had gotten off.

“You done?” Hank asked.

Kyle glanced over his shoulder at him. “Impatient much?”

“Fuck, yeah. I was bein’ polite, not letting her come so she didn’t sink her teeth into your dick.”

“Thoughtful.” Kyle caressed Lainie’s face as he pulled out.

Then he moved and lay alongside her.

LORELEI JAMES 9

“My turn.” Hank curled his big palms over the tops of her thighs above her knees and hammered into her.

As much as Lainie loved the driving force of his thrusts, she needed direct contact with her clit. “Touch me.”

“Eventually.” Kyle toyed with her nipples. Dragging his rough knuckles up and down her damp skin until that skin quivered beneath his roving touch. Flirting with her bikini line, but his fingers never breached the curls covering her mound.

Lainie made a disgruntled noise.

Then Kyle’s grinning face was inches from hers. “Still bored?”

Hank laughed.

Somehow she stopped herself from cursing at both of them.

A slippery finger skated across her clit. She gasped as it happened again, but on a slower pass. A more thorough pass.

Then it stopped.

Dammit. She moaned and thrashed, to no avail.

Hank grunted and stroked two more times, shoving deep on the last plunge. “Fuck.”

Lainie felt his cock lengthen inside her. Even through the condom she felt the pulses of his cock head jerking against her swollen tissues. She bore down on him, hoping that extra stimulation would kick her into orgasm.

“Jesus, Lainie, keep doin’ that.”

She squeezed and released. Hank emitted a whimpering moan she’d never heard before, which made her forget about her own lack of orgasm and focus on giving him one that would utterly blow his mind.

He slowed. Stilled. Hank pulled out, dropped to his knees, and settled his mouth over her clit at the same time Kyle licked her nipple.

“You’ve been very obedient,” Kyle murmured as he pressed

9 CORRALLED

her breasts together to tongue both her nipples at the same time.

“We should reward that.”

“Yes. God. Yes. Please.”

Hank’s lips nipped at the flesh surrounding her clit. A teasing scrape of his teeth. Then he suctioned his mouth over the throbbing heart of her and began a full- out assault with his clever tongue.

Lainie screamed as the orgasm flattened her. Throbbing pulses zapped her body as she thrashed against the hungry mouths devouring her most intimate spots. She wanted more, and yet the stimulus was too much. The handcuff chain rattled as she attempted to jerk free to push them away.

Then the twinges faded. And stopped. She floated into a fuzzy state where sleep beckoned.

Low male voices teased the edges of her subconscious, but movement to or away from the sound was impossible. Two clicks echoed and her arms were freed. She immediately curled up on her side.

“I think we plumb wore her out.”

“I reckon you’re right. Lainie? You okay?”

“Tired. Just wanna rest my eyes a bit.”

Two sets of hands skated over her skin. She sighed. A blanket covered her. A pillow was tucked under her head.

More male chuckles, and then nothing.

9

Hank made sandwiches. He ate light before an event, something he and Kyle had in common. They didn’t speak of what’d gone down with Lainie. No reason to rehash it when they’d both been there.

After they finished the food, Kyle said, “What happened with Barclay?”

Hank rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Somehow he got wind of LORELEI JAMES 9

the meeting I had with the EBS. It don’t take a genius- level IQ to see I’m thinking about jumping ship.” He sipped his water. “So will it bother you if I do get selected for the EBS bullfighting team?”

“Nah. They’d be fools not to choose you. You’re damn good.”

That gave Hank pause.

“When you talked to Bryson Westfield with the EBS, did he ask if you’d competed in any of the ABA competitions?” Kyle asked.

“Actually, yes, he did.”

“Not surprised. Bryson believes those kinds of competition separate the men from the boys. The wheat from the chaff. The cream rises to the top and all those lame- ass sayings that he’ll bore you to fuckin’ tears with if you let him ramble on.” Kyle fussed with the brim of his hat. “Have you entered any of them bullfighting showcases?”

“Yeah, I just don’t advertise it much.”

“Because you lost?”

“No. I’ve done well. It’s just not my thing.”

Kyle frowned at him. “Why not?”

Hank struggled to explain. “Don’t get me wrong. The guys I work with in the CRA are great. But I don’t live close enough to anyone to work out the details of competing as a bullfighting team when I’m running a ranch during the week. So that leaves me in the freestyle form. Not my fave.”

“Am I to take that as saying Hank Lawson’s competitive streak has mellowed?”

Fuck no. Especially where Lainie was concerned. “That’s another reason why I don’t like to compete in those showcases. For me, squaring off against a bull is business. I’m there to save bull riders. Period.”

“Knowing the EBS, they’ll offer to pay you very well to save riders.”

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“I wasn’t hedging when I told Lyle Barclay I haven’t decided.”

“Does Lainie know about the potential gig with the EBS?”

Hank shook his head. He got the vibe that working the EBS

circuit wasn’t her first choice.

“Speaking of Lainie . . .”

Hank’s head snapped up at Kyle’s not- so- casual tone. “What about her?”

“Tomorrow night she’s mine. You had her in your bed for a night. I get equal time, remember?”

“We’re still in Gillette tomorrow night. What am I supposed to do on your ‘special’ night with her? Sleep in the bunk with my iPod cranked? Pretend you guys ain’t even here? How about tonight? I could hang out with the guys for a few hours.”

“No dice.” Kyle showed his teeth. “You had her to yourself most of the day yesterday and all night. I’d only get her from nine o’clock on after the rodeo ends. Plus, after me banging her earlier and then us double- teaming her just now, I want her to be fully alert and rested, not sore.”

Hank’s smile dried up. “You fucked Lainie while I was at the sponsors’ meeting today?”

“Is that a problem?” Kyle asked evenly.

Fuck, yeah. But he’d be goddamned if he’d give Kyle the satisfaction of seeing his jealousy. His eyes flicked to the flowers and then back to his smarmy friend. “Did you gift her with posies before or after you fucked her?”

“What do you think?”

Before.

Bastard had it all planned how he’d edge Hank out. Flowers, cozy domestic scenes, and the all- important time alone, where he’d probably do Kama Sutra–type sex shit to Lainie that Hank had never even heard of. Or some multiorgasmic tantric stuff.

Fuck that.

LORELEI JAMES 9

Kyle didn’t know how far Hank would go in this battle to win Lainie’s heart.

Hank smiled. “Sure. She’s yours tomorrow night. Fair’s fair, right?”

But the truth was, this was all- out war.

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9

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or Hank, the next day was a whirlwind of sponsor activity.

He barely had time to eat with Lainie, let alone fuck her.

Which made him cranky, since tonight was Kyle’s one- on- one time with her.

But she wasn’t lounging in the camper wearing slinky lingerie, waiting for Kyle to take her to heights of sexual ecstasy. She was sitting in the stands watching the performance.

In the ready room, Hank began the ritual of dressing. He dressed the same way every time. First he slipped on the spandexlike athletic shorts, which were lightweight, yet contained panels that offered additional protection from hooves and horns. Next he donned the vest crafted out of the same material as the shorts. The piece wasn’t as bulky as the vests required for bull riders. The formfitting, nonconfining vest allowed bullfighters to make the faster movements they needed.

He dropped to a crouch. Leaped into the air, drawing his knees tight to his chest on the jump. Then he landed back in a crouch.

Swinging his arms, letting his elbows lead the way as he loosened up his midsection. Side stretches. Elbow- to- knee crunches. Shadowboxing. Lifting his shoulders. Lowering his shoulders. Neck rolls.

LORELEI JAMES 9

Then he slipped on the long nylon basketball shorts emblazoned with the sponsor’s logo. At most rodeos Hank wore the Barclay uniform, although sometimes he wore the one from the Big J

Rodeo Stock Company.

Depending on the situation and previous injuries, he’d wrap whatever body part needed it. But tonight he felt good. No additional wrapping was required— even though Lainie would disagree about his needing extra protection over the contusion on his quad.

Hank tugged on long athletic socks that ended below his knees.

Tied his shoes. Strapped on his knee pads. Once he wore all his equipment, he repeated the stretching exercises.

Some bullfighters smeared greasepaint on their faces, which was their choice. But Hank figured that, as most guys in his profession were still trying to change the public’s perception about the differences between rodeo clowns and bullfighters, donning greasepaint was a step backward.

Hank ambled out and noticed the other two bullfighters leaning against the concrete waiting for him. “Peck and Strand!”

Peck gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

“Hank Lawson, you look like dog shit,” Strand drawled in his thick Texas accent.

“Must’ve happened when I started hanging out in the Lone Star State.”

“Har, har. You see the docket tonight?”

“Didn’t have much of a chance to study it. What’ve we got?”

“They ain’t limiting the number of contestants. Thirty- seven entrants. Don’t recognize half their names. So I’m hoping like hell it ain’t a bunch of rookies.”

“Are there enough bulls?”

“Appear to be,” Peck said.

“Let’s head up to the corrals. I wanna take a peek so it looks like I did my homework.”

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Chaos ruled behind the scenes. Usually the excitement behind the chutes was enough to make him grin, but tonight his enthusiasm was a bit lackluster.

“Only one thing puts a sour look like that on a man’s face.”

Strand waggled his bushy black eyebrows. “Who is she?”

He muttered, “She’s everything.”

A tall, thin woman, decked out in a rhinestone shirt and skintight pants, brushed past them. She was surrounded by a group of cowboys, and every man hung on her every word. Hank stopped and stared after her. Something about her seemed familiar. Mighty familiar. But he couldn’t place it.