FrankenDom (41 page)

Heat crept up Hake’s neck. “Not for me, it’s not.”

“Well I’d sure as hell hope not.” Brent’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And you can
forget it. I’ve already told Mandy more than once that I’m not interested in being
set up with any of her friends. When I’m ready to settle down, I will.”

“No blind dates, I promise.” Hake shifted again. Shit, this was going to be harder
than he’d thought. “But you know all those stories you told me about you and Joe and
those, uh, women…”

When he hesitated, Brent’s brow rose in inquiry. Looking off toward the house, Hake
pulled off his cap and ran his hand through his hair before plunking it back down
again.

“They’re all true?” he finally asked.

“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have told them if they weren’t.”

“You still, uh…?”

“Once in a while.” Brent grinned. “Why? You wanna watch?”

Hake bit his lips before saying, “Maybe.”

Brent’s eyes widened. “You’re shittin’ me.”

“Not really.”

“Somehow I can’t see Mandy putting up with that.”

Hake plucked off his cap again and slapped it against the leg of his jeans, searching
for a way to say this without coming off like a complete loser.

“Okay, it’s like this,” he finally said. “You know Mandy’s been writing romance books
for a few years, bringing in a little extra money, right?”

When Brent nodded, he continued, “Well, since Ryan went off to college, she’s been
writing…sexier stories. Ones about…stuff like you do.”

Brent blinked at him. “She writes books about three-way sex?”

“Among other things.” Hake put his cap back on and tugged the bill down low over his
eyes.

“Holy shit.” Brent laughed out loud. “Hot damn, I knew she was a firecracker.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey now, don’t go gettin’ all caveman on my ass,” Brent said. “I just meant that
there’s obviously a lot under the surface with her. You’re always too much of a gentleman
to say anything, but I figured you two must have a pretty good time in the sack.”

“Yeah, we do. Or we did.” Hake tucked his hands back into his pockets. “Injuries like
mine take a long time to heal and I haven’t really been up to it yet. Mandy’s been
working hard, doing double duty, and I just… Well, I think she deserves something
extra-special.”

Brent’s expression sharpened. “I don’t think I follow you.”

“I think you do.”

“Spell it out for me anyway.”

“Okay.” Hake took a deep breath, wondering what the fuck he was about to do to his
marriage. “I want you and Joe to do a three-way with her.”

Brent blinked at him again and then walked over to the gate. Resting his forearms
on the top rail, he propped a boot on a lower rail and looked out over the cattle
yard. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Hake asked, joining him at the gate. Even from here, he could see
there was still ground corn in the feed bunks, which meant he could move in the self-feeders
anytime. Mandy’d be thrilled spitless to hear her days of carrying thirty pails of
feed twice a day were just about over.

One of the heifers tried to mount up on a steer and a smile tickled the corners of
Hake’s mouth. If Mandy were out here, she’d exclaim for the hundredth time, “See!
Even the cattle know gender roles aren’t cast in stone.”

She’d grown up in San Francisco, and though she thought rural America was a great
place to raise a kid, sometimes the pervasive intolerance drove her right up a wall.
There wasn’t much she could do about the way folks around here thought, but she’d
done her level best to adjust
his
attitude over the years and she’d made sure they raised their son to be more accepting
of different lifestyles.

“You said three-way,” Brent said. “What are you supposed to be doing while Joe and
I double-team your wife?”

Heat rose in Hake’s neck. “Watching. Like I said, I’m not much good for anything else
these days.”

Brent finally gave him a dubious grin. “Watching, huh? And Mandy’s okay with that?”

“Well, I haven’t—”

“In other words, no.”

“We’ve talked about it,” Hake said quickly. “Just not about you and Joe specifically.
To tell you the truth, we’ve toyed with the idea of a trip to the Maverick Ranch and
I really think she’s game, but…”

“That’s your fantasy, not hers,” Brent finished.

“Right. Women are the only item on the menu at the Maverick Ranch, which is a damn
shame.” Hake huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he tucked his hands tighter into
his jacket pockets. “Hell, I can’t believe I said that.
It’s just a damn shame there’s no male prostitutes for my wife to fuck at the Maverick
Ranch
.”

“Mandy ain’t your daddy’s farm wife,” Brent said with a big grin.

“You can say that again.” Hake looked at him seriously. “I really think she’d be up
for this. I’ve seen her checking out your ass.”

Brent’s brows rose. “Really? ‘Cause I’ve checked hers out a few times.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” Hake said dryly.

“So what are we talking about here? There’s a lot three people can do together.”

“Well, probably everything you can fit into one night.”

“You ever fucked her ass?”

Hake narrowed his eyes. Under any other circumstances, he’d have put his cousin’s
lights out for asking a question like that. Instead, he drawled, “Yeah.”

“She likes it?”

“I wouldn’t do it if she didn’t.”

Brent’s gaze never wavered. “You ever put anything in there while you’re fucking her
pussy—I mean, like fingers or a toy?”

Hake closed his eyes and counted to five before pinning him with another stare. “Yes,
damn it.”

“So why now? Why me and Joe?”

The answer to that simple question was long and complicated, and Hake wasn’t sure
he could explain it. Brent’s tales of their erotic exploits on the road had made him
think his wife would be in talented hands. Safe hands, too, because Brent had mentioned
during one of their after-dinner chats, after Mandy disappeared upstairs to write,
that Joe had gotten him in the habit of being tested every year.

Hake had done a mental double-take at that revelation and then blushed like a schoolgirl.
It should have been obvious that a couple of ladies’ men like Brent and Joe needed
to get tested regularly, but for some reason, he’d always assumed only gay guys did,
and for a minute there, he’d envisioned Joe Remke bending his cousin over the end
of a bed, banging the hell out of his ass. The way his damn cock had jumped was disconcerting—Mandy
hadn’t adjusted his attitude
that
much, for Christ’s sake.

No doubt Brent would deck him for thinking he and Joe could possibly be gay. Hake
wanted to deck himself for being the least bit interested in the possibility.

“I trust you guys,” he finally said, though he wasn’t sure exactly how far. “And since
I busted my leg, she’s been taking up the slack, doing what chores she can, and I
just…” He sighed, rubbing the chilled skin on the back of his neck. “Well, I want
her to have something better to remember from this whole crappy fall than me hanging
around the place being useless, you know?

“But it’s only gonna happen once,” he concluded firmly, “and afterward, we’re gonna
pretend it never happened.”

“Since I only stop in here once in a coon’s age, that shouldn’t be too hard to pull
off.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“I’d be a fool not to.”

Hake let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding. For better or worse,
he’d done what he set out to do, and now his wife was finally going to get what she
deserved—a night of fantasy sex with two guys who understood what she wanted and were
more than able to give it to her.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Hey, I should be thanking you,” Brent laughed.

Ignoring the twinge of apprehension in his gut, Hake said, “Damn straight.” The guys
had no clue how lucky they were about to get. Mandy was hell on wheels between the
sheets.
He’d
be lucky if they didn’t decide to pack her up and take her along when they left.
“Oh, and there’s something else,” he added. “She has another fantasy that kind of
goes along with this one, but only if you’re both willing.”

When Brent arched a brow, he continued, “It’s something we’ve done together a couple
of times, and it’s actually pretty damn hot.”

“Could you just spill it already?”

“First, do you know anything about safety words?”

* * * * *

Her breasts heaved with excitement as Alexandre shoved his thick, musky cock against
her lips. She pressed them shut, challenging her captors.

Jordan rose to the occasion. Grasping her jaw between his hard fingers, he put pressure
on the joint even as Alexandre’s cock ground her lips against her teeth.

“Open your mouth, Gwen,” he growled. “His cock’s got an appointment with your tonsils.”

When she refused to open, he gave her nipple a vicious pinch. Her yelp allowed Alexandre
to slide between her lips, and slide he did, barreling into her mouth like a log down
the chute. Holding her skull firmly, he powered to the back of her throat, deliberately
inciting her gag reflex before pulling back.

Then he shoved in deep again, and this time rough fingers pulled her buttocks apart,
making her squirm—

“Hey, Mandy!”

Mandy slapped down the lid of her laptop with a gasp as heat rushed into her cheeks.
Brent Andersen didn’t need to know that one of the smokin’ hot men in her ménage was
a military version of him. Or that the other bore a strong resemblance to his friend
Joe.

“Be right down, Brent!” she called, pushing away from her desk. A quick glance in
the mirror told her she looked about like she usually did—like a middle-aged farm
wife. Cursing the dry air, she smoothed her flyaway blonde pageboy with her palms
and then felt kind of guilty for primping.

Hey, you’d do the same if the UPS guy was down there!

Yeah, but your heart wouldn’t be thumping like this.

She tugged at her sweater anyway, wishing she’d picked a baggier one. The pale green
V-neck hugged every hill and valley, which would have been a plus if it was just Hake
around. He thought she was beautiful even when she had to switch to her winter jeans.
Pitching hay and carrying all those pails of feed to the bunks twice a day since his
accident had ensured that she still fit in her skinny summer jeans, but nothing short
of plastic surgery could completely eradicate her muffin top.

Get over yourself, silly!
Brent and Joe were probably just stopping in to say goodbye—they couldn’t care less
whether she appeared downstairs in a tiara and formal gown or curlers and a muumuu.

That didn’t keep her from turning around and checking out her own backside in the
full-length mirror behind the door. Just to make sure there were no indecent holes
in this pair of jeans, of course. Now that she and Hake had been alone on the farm
for a couple of years, she’d gotten a little less concerned with appearances. She
used to shower and dress first thing every morning while Ryan was growing up, but
now she tended to stay in her pajamas unless she was going somewhere. Well, except
during harvest, when hired hands had a way of stopping in when she least expected
them. Otherwise, no one but Hake saw her, so what was the point of changing clothes?

She twisted slightly to the side, loving the way her new bra shaped her smallish breasts.
She’d finally broken down and bought a water bra a few weeks ago, and wow, had it
made a difference. Hake had noticed, too, but he hadn’t been in the mood to do anything
about it yet.

The way he eyed her at lunch, she’d thought that might be about to change, but she’d
thought wrong. All he did was push away from the table and head for the shower, saying
he had business to attend to. Darn it. Her toys had been fun when they were just supplements
to an already spectacular sex life, but now that they’d been her mainstays for so
many months, they were getting old fast. She missed feeling Hake’s big, hard hands
all over her body and his big, hard cock between her legs. If he didn’t come back
to life soon, she was going to have to mothball her laptop. It was just too frustrating
to get all revved up writing erotica and have nowhere to go with all the pent-up sexual
energy.

Sighing, she turned off the faux-Tiffany floor lamp and went downstairs. Even though
they’d eaten less than an hour ago, her stomach growled at the tantalizing aroma of
pot roast drifting from the slow cooker.

Turning the corner into the living room, she came to an abrupt halt and her jaw dropped.
“Hake?”

He sat in one of the ladder-back dining chairs, his dark brown hair still damp, his
bad leg stretched out in front of him. Brent and Joe, apparently freshly showered
themselves, crouched beside him. It looked like they were securing his hands to the
armrests with…her dishtowels?

“What’s going on?” she asked warily.

Hake’s smile was reassuring. “Just say ‘Ride ‘em, cowboy’, honey.”

His words drove all the air from her lungs, and her eyes flew to Brent, who tightened
the last knot and stood up.

Laying a hand on Hake’s shoulder, he gave her a stern look and said, “This here’s
a holdup, ma’am. Just do what you’re told, and nobody’s gonna get hurt.”

Every muscle in her body tensed as her mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing
and hearing. Two men were tying up her already incapacitated husband, and he was telling
her to say their personal code for “fuck me ‘til I scream”.

Oh God, the very idea of what might be about to happen sent sharp tingles between
her legs. Hake wouldn’t do this…would he?

“Just a cotton pickin’ minute,” she said in a quivery voice, knowing he would pick
up on the signal.

“It’s okay, Mandy,” he told her softly, his brown eyes all liquid warmth. “You need
this.”