Natalie Acres

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Authors: Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6]

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Cowboy Sex 6

Sex Retreat

Mitch Colony knows all about personal sacrifice. Burdened by responsibilities that weren’t his to carry, Mitch paid his debt to society and is ready to reclaim the woman he loves.

Brock Sheldon and Rory Matthews understand Mitch carries an enormous amount of heartache and pain. Bad choices led Mitch down a destructive path, and while he is ready to leave the past behind, Brock and Rory have their family to consider.

Embedded in the BDSM lifestyle, Mitch has eclectic tastes and he is legendary for several reasons, but his sexual preferences aren’t most disconcerting for Brock and Rory. His personal connections with unsavory characters threaten to tear their happy relationship apart.

Trixie Cartwell Sheldon’s desire for three places her in a killer’s sights. Trixie hasn’t forgotten the love she and Mitch shared, and even though he still represents a dangerous past, she wants him at any cost. What she doesn’t realize is the going rate for love is very high indeed.

Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.

Genre:
BDSM, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

Length:
76,526 words
 

SEX RETREAT

 

Cowboy Sex 6

 

 

 

 

 

Natalie Acres

 

 

 

 

 

 

MENAGE AMOUR

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:
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You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book.
This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

 

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

 

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

 

SEX RETREAT

Copyright © 2013 by Natalie Acres

E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-659-1

 

First E-book Publication: March 2013

 

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

 

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

 

 

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

 

Dear Readers,

 

If you have purchased this copy of
Sex Retreat
by Natalie Acres from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

 

 

Regarding E-book Piracy

 

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

 

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

 

This is Natalie Acres’s livelihood.
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Acres’s right to earn a living from her work.

 

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

 

 

This installment is dedicated to

 

Pamela L. and Nichole R.

 

Thank you for reading my books and for telling the locals about my work. I look forward to future weekends when we can hang out and support our favorite band—Gunslinger.

SEX RETREAT

Cowboy Sex 6

 

NATALIE ACRES

Copyright © 2013

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue One

 

The prison bars jangled behind Cash Whitehead and he was a free man. A tumultuous wind whipped around him as he strolled into the outside world ready to lay claims to one blonde-haired beauty, a true sex goddess, a woman who was undoubtedly his fate given the history they shared.

A yellow cab was waiting for him a few feet from the main gates. Cash opened the door and took a seat next to the driver. “Did Lance send you?”

“Yeah,” the driver replied. “You his brother?”

“Looks give me away, yeah?”

“You’ve been on the inside for what, ten or twelve years?” The driver laughed. “I know Lance well and I wouldn’t have been able to tell you apart. The two of you even walk the same.”

“You got anything for me?”

The driver handed him an envelope. “It’s all in there.”

“Excellent,” Cash said, slapping the thick packet against the windshield. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Name is Mic Compton,” the driver said. “I’ve worked for Lance the whole time you’ve been inside. That gal of yours…does she know you’re heading her way?”

Cash chuckled. “Not yet.”

“How’d the two of you meet?” Mic asked.

Cash shot him a sideways glance. “You ask too many questions.” And he would tire of him long before they reached their destination. “It’s a long story.”

“We got a while,” Mic reminded him.

Cash leaned back in his seat. He pressed his neck against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Once upon a time, I was housed in a cell located right across the way from Stephen Pratchert, an ordinary guy who became obsessed with a young woman he’d never met before, a woman who was the nineteen-year-old daughter of the lady responsible for putting him away.”

Mic frowned. “Pratchert? Hell, I know that name. He was all over the national news for nearly half a decade. The general public became enchanted by his lunacy. He was sort of like the modern-day Manson.”

Cash grunted. “He was child’s play.”

“Whatever, man. The nut job went after an innocent girl. She was a camp counselor at Cow Camp here in Virginia.”

“Cow Camp?” Cash sat upright.

“Have you heard of the place?”

“You might say that.” Cash studied his driver. “Do you know where the camp is located?”

“Sure I do,” Mic replied. “The property is the largest spread on South Holston Lake. It’s a beautiful spot and pretty much deserted. It’s been that way for seven or eight years.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cash said, thinking he’d just cut to the heart of his story. “Mitch Colony owned the camp.”

“That’s right.”

“Mitch was my cell mate after Pratchert served his time in the pokey.” Cash grinned at a recent memory. “In case you didn’t know, Mitch Colony put Pratchert in the grave. Irony is a cynical bitch, huh?”

Mic frowned. “Sure is.”

“I know. Right?” Cash rubbed his palms together. “Fate has a funny way of bringing people together.”

“How so?”

“At the heart of this tale lies a story about a desirable young woman and several men who loved her from afar.” He sighed dramatically. “But only one of these guys could get the girl and live happily ever after.”

Prologue Two

 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Trixie muttered, ignoring her sister and focusing on the large oak tree at the end of the driveway.

Ansley balked at that. “Hmmm…could’ve fooled me. Either you’re over there fantasizing about what’s waiting for you on the other side of a bedroom door or you’re pregnant again. Either way, something’s up and I want the scoop. Spill.”

Trixie set her coffee cup in the sink, narrowed her gaze on the large tree once more, and turned to Ansley. “I think I’m going crazy.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? I could’ve put your mind at rest.” Ansley’s smile broadened. “You went crazy years ago when you started a relationship with Brock and Rory.”

“This coming from a woman who shares a bed with four men?” Trixie fired back.

“There’s a big difference here, sweetie. I don’t
think
I’m crazy. I’m certifiable and loving every minute of it.” Ansley waggled her brows. “Come on, sis. What’s eatin’ at you?”

Trixie refused to glance outside again even though the temptation was almost more than she could bear. “I feel like someone is always watching me.”

“Maybe it’s because Rory and Brock rarely let you out of their sights. Ever thought of that?”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“I try to help when I can,” Ansley replied. “Explain this paranoia of yours. When did it start? Who do you think is watching you?”

“Ansley, please. I’m not kidding. I think someone may be following me. Sometimes, I feel like someone has been in the house. I’ve even had items missing from one room only to show up in another.”

Ansley shook her head. “Maybe it’s because of the recent Jordie Anne fiasco. Ever considered that? The whole incident was more disturbing than any of us cared to admit.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jordie Anne.” Trixie thinned her lips and finally relented. She went back to the kitchen sink and stared outside once more. “I know someone is watching me.”

Ansley immediately joined her. “Wait a minute. You’re serious?” She brushed Trixie’s hair away from her shoulder. “Honey, you’re safe here. You know that.”

“It’s not about feeling safe. It’s about being watched and I’m certain someone is out there.” She grabbed Ansley’s arm and stared into her eyes. “And I think I know who.”

“What?” Ansley looked stunned. “Who?”

Trixie glanced over Ansley’s shoulder and surveyed the room behind them. “Mitch.”

“Oh, honey,” Ansley said, resting her hand over Trixie’s. “Mitch isn’t here. He wouldn’t wait in the shadows if he were out there somewhere. He’d show his face, wrap his arms around you, and hold you close. You know that. Right now, he’s probably—”

“Off somewhere licking his wounds?” Trixie asked, irritated.

“That’s not what I was suggesting. It’s just…well, after everything Jordie Anne put him through, I don’t think he would come here right away.” She hesitated before she continued. “Trixie, Mitch may never return to Fletcher. He caused you enormous heartache. Even in the man’s absence, he represented a dark cloud over this family. If Mitch comes here, it will be years down the road.”

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