Penn, Jenny - Chasing Lacie [Sea Island Wolves 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

Chance Dillon reclined against the bed of his pickup with his elbows tucked up along the warming metal rim and his hat pulled low to block out the early morning sun. From beneath the wide brim, his gaze roved over the sodden pasture field. The musky odor of wet dirt tinted the sweet scent of the grass growing beneath the brilliant rays of the morning sun.

Beautiful.
A perfect spring day made to lure the wild men out onto the range to test their strength and skill against the horse beneath and the cattle trying to escape. Or maybe to test their endurance and stamina riding something a whole lot sweeter.

Chance sighed and rolled his head, popping the tension out of his stiff muscles. It didn’t help. His gaze kept going back to study the very nicely rounded curve of Miss Lacie’s rump.
Now there was something worth riding.

He even had a plan about how to lure his filly into the mating position. He’d been working on it since about the age of twelve. Back then it had all been wet dreams and hand jobs, but seventeen years later all those night’s spent plotting were about to come to fruition.

Now all he needed was for it to go like he planned. If it did, he’d soon have an excuse for introducing Lacie Chandler to the delights of going for a midday swim. A swim they’d be taking without clothes because he already knew how to get his mate out of hers. It was simple, really.

He planned to shred them from her body. Then it would all be old-school moves from there, moves he knew a woman couldn’t resist. Not that Lacie was just any woman. She was his mate, and more than any other woman in all the world, Chance wanted to please her, to hear her cry out his name as her pussy rippled with the climax he drove her to.

He’d spread those rounded thighs wide and feast on that cunt until she begged him to stop. Not that he would. Hands, mouth, toys, and his own painfully hard cock, Chance had a lot of plans for Lacie’s sweet little pussy. By the time he finished with her, she wouldn’t—

“Hello? Are you listening to me, Mr. Dillon?”

Davis elbowed him in the side, making Chance grunt. He shot an annoyed look at his best friend, but Davis didn’t apologize. He just shook his head sadly at Chance’s pathetic state. As if that bastard had any right to criticize.

Chance knew damn well that the same thoughts occupied Davis’s mind. Why else would Davis be crouched down in the bed but to hide something a man didn’t want to frighten off his prey with?

Blood brothers and bonded since they’d been matched to the same mate, it was only that connection that kept Chance from killing Davis right there. Any other male would have died for so clearly coveting what belonged to them. Not that their mate appeared particularly receptive to their interest right then.

“Look,” Lacie began in a perfect imitation of a school marm. “I was called out to tend to a sick heifer. Now where is she?”

Of course none of Chance’s teachers had looked that good. Then again none of them had shared Lacie’s fuddy-duddy sense of style. The slightly big khaki pants and oversized button-down Oxford had a severe sort of feel to them that matched Lacie’s dower expression.

“Mr. Dillon?”

“That’s my daddy’s name.” And it didn’t feel right, her calling him that, given all the dirty things Chance would be doing to her soon enough. “You can call me Chance, as in a lucky one.”

“Does that line ever work?” Not amused, Lacie’s gaze narrowed on him with the kind of disapproval that made his balls ache to show her just how right he was.

“Every time,” Chance assured her, smirking at the way his answer only drove the angry flush in her cheeks lower.

Her porcelain skin flushed a rosy hue all the way down to the very top button on her collar, which was closed. That didn’t mean Chance had a problem imagining the way her generous tits were glowing. All it did was make him eager to rip the fabric constraining those luscious breasts out of his way and free her not only to his sight, but his touch and kiss as well.

Maybe he should amend his fantasy. Instead of ripping through her buttons, he’d bite them off one by one until her soft flesh kissed his lips. Then he could devour every inch of her sweet skin with no second spared to wait.

“You’re not
listening
to me,” Lacie snapped.

No, he really wasn’t but didn’t figure that honest answer would improve her mood. Not that Chance cared. He wanted to get her as riled up as possible for the run to come. The chase would get all their blood flowing. Their bodies would flood with endorphins that would only fuel the frenzy when it came time for the capture. He’d take her to the ground, shed every single piece of clothing from her body. Then his hands would be everywhere. Not to mention what Chance planned on doing with his lips.

He’d lick, suck, and nibble his way over her lush curves until he buried his lips in the sweet folds of her cunt. Then he’d get creative. Chance shifted, adjusting his weight to compensate for his active imagination. Apparently, he should have been paying more attention to reality because Lacie stared at him, clearly expecting some kind of response.

Chance pulled a blank and forgave himself for not having a clue. Going blind-dumb with lust was just all part of the joy of taking a mate. Once he had Lacie pinned beneath him, howling out with ecstasy while he rode her tight pussy raw, then maybe he’d be able to concentrate.

Still, he had to say something. “So, uh…something wrong?”

“Yes,” Lacie snapped, her green gaze flashing with dark bolts of passion. “Where is the cow?”

Chance looked at Davis, who shrugged. Matching his partner’s gesture, he turned back to the little spitfire clearly getting ready to erupt. “I don’t know. Where?”

Lacie’s gaze narrowed on him, her jaw clearly clenching along with the rest of her body. Chance could sense the aggression mixing in with the spicy scent of her arousal and had to grin. Maybe he wasn’t the only one starting to go stupid with desire. After all, Lacie had a big brain. She should have figured a few things out by now.

“Mr. Dillon—”

“I told you to call me Chance.”

“I am getting annoyed.”

Chance figured the word she wanted was pissed but didn’t have the lewdness to go there. Sweet, prudish and so very corruptible, Lacie didn’t stand a chance against him. He’d make her moan every dirty word he could think of. Then he’d watch her blush in the morning when he reminded her of all the lewd things she’d moaned for. Forget moaning them, he’d make her beg.

“You gonna pop a button,” Davis murmured.

Chance looked down at the erection tenting out his jeans and smiled. “It’s called advertising, Davis,” he responded in just as low a tone but with a cheeriness to match his smile. “Bait and lure, my friend.”

“Bait?” Lacie repeated. “What are you two talking about?”

“You look a little red, honey.” Davis must have figured Chance had screwed things up long enough and needed a little help making them worse. “I think you might be getting heatstroke.”

“I do not have heatstroke. What I have is a loss of patience.”

“Crankiness.” Davis nodded at Chance. “That’s a sign of heatstroke. So is disorientation and confusion.”

“I am not confused.”

“You know the best thing for heatstroke?” Davis asked, full of earnest cheer and completely ignoring the glare Lacie aimed at him. “A swim in a cool pool.”

“Nice execution.” Chance joined in Davis’s ignore-the-woman scheme. “But bad timing.”

“Timing is part of execution.”

“Okay.” Chance shrugged, easily conceding the point. “Then bad segue.”

“What? You don’t even know what that word means.”

“I used it, didn’t I?” Chance shot back. “And I must be right because you screwed something up, evidenced by the fact that she’s neither naked nor wet.”

“Naked?” That soft, confused echo would have drawn Chance’s focus if Davis hadn’t continued to argue with him.

“Well, she is a little wet.”

“
Excuse me
?” Lacie gasped, puffing up with clear indignation.

“Dumbass.” Chance snorted. “Never tell a woman you can smell her pussy unless she’s already spread out and sweaty beneath you.”

“Okay, that’s it! I demand to be taken back to my van.”

“I think it’s that way.” Chance nodded over his shoulder in the direction they’d come from. Of course that would be the wrong direction, toward freedom and escape. Then again freedom was nearly ten miles away, so he didn’t suspect she’d make it.

“Very funny,” Lacie sneered. “Don’t think I won’t walk it if I have to.”

“What about the cow?” Davis asked.

“What cow?” Lacie’s arms splayed wide to encompass the whole field. “I don’t see any cow!”

Chance glanced around and shrugged. “Maybe she wandered off.”

“Or maybe she didn’t exist in the first place,” Lacie snapped. “I’m not stupid. There are no flattened patches of grass or tracks anywhere. There. Is. No. Cow.”

“Might be,” Davis retorted, as certain-sounding as ever. “This is a ranch, after all. We got like eight hundred heads. Gotta be a cow around here somewhere. Why don’t you go look?”

“Why don’t you kiss my—”

“Before you shame your mother,” Chance cut her off, not wanting to spoil his anticipation of hearing that word when she moaned it. “I should warn you there is not a part of your body that Davis won’t jump on the chance to taste if you issue the invitation.”

“Ruin my fun,” Davis grumbled, shooting Chance a dirty look. “What kind of wingman are you? You’re not supposed to warn the sweetness.”

“And you’re not supposed to be tasting nothing until
after
the hunt,” Chance reminded Davis. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” High-strung and clearly pissed, Lacie’s gaze darted between the two of them. “What hunt? What the hell is going on here?”

Sighing, Chance wondered how much longer she planned on taking before she got a clue. He was tired of playing with his food. He wanted to eat at some point today. They couldn’t get to the feasting, though, until after Lacie understood everything. As he’d said to Davis, those were the rules.

“I thought you’d have figured it out by now.” Chance met Lacie’s seething gaze with his own pointed look. “Do you really need me to explain, Lacie?”

* * * *

Yes, she did, but Lacie didn’t think she’d trust Chance Dillon’s answer. She knew damn well she couldn’t trust Davis. She’d made the mistake of trusting Chance’s father when he’d called earlier about a sick heifer that needed looking at. Actually, he’d told that to Bud, her boss. Bud handled the Dillon Ranch account personally or had until today. He had to be two counties over that morning, so for the first time ever he’d sent somebody else in his stead. Maybe that was the problem.

“Is this because I’m new?” Lacie asked, glancing between the two cowboys. They stared back, watching her like a pair of foxes studying a hen with bright, curious gazes and a slight quivering in their muscles that warned they might lunge for her at any moment.

“New?” Chance repeated, smiling over the word as he cast his buddy an amused look. “See, I’m not understanding that. You understand her question?”

“No,” Davis murmured loud enough for Lacie to hear. She kind of thought that might be the point. “It’s like I said. She’s confused. She’s got heatstroke.”

“I do not.” Lacie clamped down on the insults that wanted to follow. No matter how unpleasant Chance or his friend might be, the Dillon Ranch counted as one of Bud’s biggest accounts. She couldn’t be the reason he lost it.

“See? She’s cranky, clear sign of heatstroke.”

“Enough with the heatstroke. I’m not hot.”

“Beg to differ, little lady.” Chance gave her another one of those slow perusals he’d been indulging in. His eyes didn’t make it past her breasts before they took on that kind of faraway look that told Lacie he’d tuned out the conversation again. Well, she wouldn’t let it stand this time.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she pointedly blocked his sight and waited for him to look up. It still took him almost a minute, and the man didn’t have the decency to look ashamed at being caught ogling. Instead, he gave her another one of those little smirks that had Lacie taking a deep breath before she could trust herself to speak.

“Okay.” Lacie tried to swallow down her anger, but her tone still came out sharp and edged with annoyance. “I get it. This is like the substitute teacher thing, right?”

“Substitute teacher?”

“I’m new, and you’ve had your fun. Now where is the cow?”

And God, let it be close by because Lacie didn’t relish climbing back into the tight confines of the cab with the two of them. For as irritating and arrogant as both cowboys were, they were also too handsome for her hormones not to notice. Tanned, golden, tall, and muscular, they could have been brothers with their matching square jaws and straight brows.

The only difference Lacie could see between them was Davis’s hair was light, wheat-colored with golden glints that danced with the same sparkle as the bolts of blue in his gray eyes. The touch of humor suited him, giving a depth to his grin.

Chance’s dark coloring did the same for his smirk. Stray locks of black silk escaped from his hat, clinging to his sweat-glistened neck as he cocked his head at her. The motion lifted the brim of his Stetson high enough to reveal the predatory gleam in his hypnotic gaze.