Peaches 'n' Cream (26 page)

Authors: Lynn Stark

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Peaches 'n' Cream

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A short time later, he was having a fantasy fulfilled. On a stage, before a small audience of carefully selected, like-minded people, Logan applied a flogger to Ryan’s firm ass. He was strapped down to a bench that provided support. His powerful arms and legs were strapped securely. Their Dom had put her in a position where she would be able to watch the action without being overly obvious about it. However, he didn’t want her to miss Ryan’s fantasy being played out in a mouthwatering, flesh-searing scene.

Ryan’s moans reached her ears. She could tell he was turned on. So was she. How could she not be? As Logan pulled the butt plug from their lover’s asshole, she knew that there would be a time when she would have her turn. The idea excited her. Especially when she thought of all the things he could possibly do to her. It would be as exciting as what he was doing to the eager Ryan. She watched as Logan buried his cock in the other man’s ass and Damien stepped forward to feed his cock into Ryan’s eager mouth. The next few minutes were filled with hard-driving, flesh-pounding fucking. Peaches had to bite her lip to stifle her cry as she came. Cream ran down the insides of her quivering thighs. A glow filled her as her men came, roars of pleasure filling the room. Oh, yes, life with her three men was going to be very good.

And never would it be boring.

Chapter Eighteen

Peaches was grateful for the soft breeze entering the colorful tent. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she admired the gown she had had made for her wedding. Cream white with sapphire-blue panels, it was covered with gold embroidered birds, vines, and leaves. The fitted bodice accentuated her swollen belly. Even yards of fabric couldn’t hide it. The curves of her plump breasts pushed upward, deepening her cleavage. Her grandmother’s pearls were around her neck. The skirts of the gown swept the ground, which was covered by protective flooring. The long, fitted sleeves of the gown clung to her arms and wrists. Darla placed the simple golden circlet on her head, the filigree band over her forehead. Her blonde curls had grown until they now fell below her shoulders.

They grinned at one another. Darla had also played a large role in planning the wedding.

There was no way she was leaving her very best friend out of it. After all, hadn’t the woman encouraged her to be more than a little adventurous with her cowboys?

“You did good, girl,” Darla told her, giving her a quick hug, then stepping out of the way so Olivia could take her turn.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful,” Olivia cried, clasping her hands in front of her. Her mother was also dressed in a medieval-period gown of green silk, as were the rest of the wedding party.

The costumes had been made by a friend of hers who made period clothing for the movie stu-dios. She was the very best at what she did and had not disappointed Peaches when she personally brought the clothing for the fitting. “I can’t believe this. It’s remarkable. We’re out so far away from civilization that it feels like we actually went back in time.” Peaches had chosen the spot as soon as the weather began to warm. It was far enough away from the ranch buildings so, as her mother had said, there was nothing modern seen by the guests. Another friend had supplied the colorful tents and erected them. The mountains and the flower-filled valley was a magnificent setting.

Oh, yes, she was having a fairytale wedding and even her men had fallen in with her plans, despite having some misgivings about their own clothing. Personally, Peaches thought they looked sexier than hell.

Each of her men was to wear black and silver velvet doublets over black breeches. Instead of hose and period shoes, she and the costume designer had decided on black, lace-up leather boots of the period. But there were to be no hats. The men had refused to wear anything that might have a feather sticking out of it. They had allowed their hair to grow out at her request.

It was at their shoulders and it was yet another thing she thought sexier than hell.

“I can’t believe today finally arrived.” She looked around at the women surrounding her, smiling at them. The love she felt for them all was in her eyes. “I want to thank all of you for your help. I couldn’t have done it by myself.”

Less than an hour later, her father was escorting her to join her men at the altar. A can-opy of draped silk framed it. He kissed her cheek, smiling down at her, before giving her hand over to Logan.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“Good luck, sweetheart,” John Malloy whispered in return, sniffing back his own tears.

Then she was turning to look at her men. They were splendid in their clothing, their hair blowing freely in the soft breeze, smiles on their handsome faces. Her heart skipped a beat.

Their baby kicked. She smiled and patted her belly.

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Logan looked down at her from his great height, his eyes sweeping over her. Love and admiration was in his eyes. He bent so he could kiss her softly, sweetly. Then he stepped out of the way so Damien and Ryan could take their turn greeting their future wife. When Ryan lingered too long in his enthusiasm, the minister cleared his throat meaningfully. He stepped back with a grin and a wink, always charming.

The ceremony was perfect. Peaches managed not to cry during or immediately after it.

Once her marriage to Logan was complete, they performed a commitment ceremony between the four of them. She couldn’t hold back the tears then. They streamed down her face as she recited the words she had written to bind herself to these three fantastic men. By the time the men finished their vows to her, she was just short of sobbing.

After throwing herself against them, she held them tightly as she told them how happy she was.

The rest of the day was filled with feasting and entertainment, yet another friend over-seeing the preparation of food suitable for such a celebration. The musicians were playing period music as Logan took her out for the first dance. There were performers dancing equally period dances. They encouraged guests to join them, and it wasn’t long before everyone was dancing and laughing at themselves, as well as everyone else having trouble with the different dances. Logan turned out to be quite good, moving with her to the music.

Jugglers, acrobats, actors, and a fire-eater moved through the throng of guests, continu-ally entertaining, much to everyone’s delight. The photographer and videographer tried to be inconspicuous, but failed miserably.

The moment they were to set off on their honeymoon, Peaches could barely contain her excitement. There wouldn’t be any tackily decorated limousine to sweep them off to an exotic location. No, what she had planned was so much more fitting.

As she stood with her men in the glow of the setting sun, one of the men led Demon forward. He was draped in the finery befitting a destrier of medieval times. The powerful stallion seemed to realize that he was even more magnificent than before, as he pranced heavily through the spring grass, his blue-and-gold finery fluttering with every movement of his massive body, his huge head and neck covered in shiny armor. On his back was the huge saddle designed specifically to carry an armored knight.

A smile curved her mouth as she heard Logan’s exclamation of pleasure. “Oh, baby, what did you do?”

“It’s my wedding gift to you. Or part of it.” She waved her hand and a tall, muscular man walked toward them. “This is Miles Longworth. He’ll be training you and Demon to joust.” The two men shook hands. “When we get back,” she added. “Until then, he will be setting up the new arena for the lists.” Miles bowed elegantly before leaving a speechless Logan standing there. She turned to Damien and Ryan, waving her hand to have their gifts brought forward.

Two more of the men who worked for them walked forward leading two quarter horses. “I noticed your interest in these two stallions. They’ll be a fine addition to your breeding program.”

“Oh, baby, you’re the best!”

“But how did you do it?”

“Remember all those jobs I worked over the years?” She wrinkled her nose adorably. “I’m very good at saving
and
investing.”

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She grinned as they hugged and kissed her. Her heart swelled. Her gifts were as perfect as she had hoped they would be.

Moments later, she was lifted to the waiting arms of her husband. Demon moved restlessly, but steadied with a word from the man holding him. Logan pulled her against his chest, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I love you, baby.”

Peaches reached up to caress the side of his strong jaw. “I love you, too. More than I will ever be able to show you.” His hand spread over her stomach. “Well, maybe I can.” Damien and Ryan mounted their horses, looking deliciously handsome in their costumes.

It was very easy to imagine being swept away by her men and taken to a secret love nest. Less than a half an hour’s ride and they arrived. The large tent held a bed and what supplies they would need for a three-day stay. The horses were taken away. Logan carried her into the tent, stopping just inside to stare in disbelief.

“Baby,” Logan told her as he stared at the elegant, fabric-draped bed filling nearly half of the tent, “you are perfect. The perfect woman for us,” he added to the men flanking him.

Peaches felt the warm glow of happiness spread completely through her body. She had taken a big chance and now she had come out the winner. She had gambled that these three men would be the ones for her. And she had won.

* * * *

Three years later, Peaches and their son and daughter sat in the stands to watch the jousting competition. Her nerves were more than a little twitchy. Jousting was as dangerous as competing in the rodeo. She watched as each armored man couched their lances beneath their right arms as their horses danced eagerly. The signal was given. A moment later, the huge beasts lunged forward toward one another, charging down the length of the list, grunt-ing, snorting, with dirt flying from beneath their heavy hooves as they carried their armored riders.

Peaches felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart pounded as her daughter bounced with excitement on her lap. Her son was standing on the bleacher next to her, watching intently. When the tips of the lances struck the chest plates, it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. It was the same reaction she had every time she watched.

“Ow! That left a mark!” J.J. cried in his soft child’s voice, impressed by the impact. He had obviously picked up the phrase from Ryan. Though biologically he was Logan’s son, he was very like all three of his fathers in one way or another. Then he was pointing and clapping.

“Daddy, Daddy!” he cried, waving to the huge, armor-covered man still mounted on his horse.

Logan heard his son, even over the cheering of the crowd. He lifted the visor on his helmet long enough to look at his little family. He raised his broken lance in salute, and then continued on to the end of the list, which caused Merilee, their tiny daughter, to begin crying lust-ily for one of the three men she adored as much as her mother did Living with three men and two children was proving to be more satisfying than Peaches could ever have imagined. Damien had given up the rodeo life, concentrating on training their horses, but they continued to travel occasionally to watch Ryan competing. When the three 132

men were not on the road, they were home. They worked together, loved together, as they continued to weave their life into a rich tapestry.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I'm a lifelong resident of Ohio, which is located in the Midwestern section of the United States. I occasionally take brief excursions to other places. I love travel and I love people.

I’m married and have two children. I also have dogs, ferrets, a cat, and a dozen hilarious chickens.

When I'm not writing, I'm working part-time in retail. I wish I could say I'm taking long walks on exotic beaches, or hiking through the mountains, but reality expects a little thing called a paycheck.

Reality is what makes fantasy so great. When you're having a bad day, think of a tall, dark-haired cowboy, with a wicked, promising gleam in his eyes. It can make all the difference to a lady’s day.

It does for mine!