Three to Ride Google

by Lexi Blake, Sophie Oak

  “Are you sure you didn’t find out the name of the hunter who accidently shot you?” Rachel asked suspiciously.

  He shook his head. “No, baby.”

  She didn’t look convinced. Max took a quick swallow of coffee and tried to look normal. She put Rye’s plate down. “Where did he go? I swear that man disappears four times a day. What is he doing in that room?”

  Max choked on his laughter. He knew exactly what his brother was doing. “I have no idea.”

  “Rye, breakfast is ready,” she shouted down the hall.

  Max leaned back in his chair. He needed to get this plan going. His brother was going to go blind if he didn’t stop masturbating.

  Chapter Twelve

  Stefan accepted the clothes Lana offered him, inspecting them carefully and then nodding. They were perfectly folded, but then almost everything the woman did hinted at her deep need for perfection. His short nod was her cue, and she did exactly what was expected of her. The lovely blonde sank to her knees gracefully and sat waiting. Her head was submissively down. Her hands were on her thighs facing upward. She could stay in this particular position for hours. There was nothing quite like a well-trained sub.

  Stefan turned and walked to the small closet in the front hall of his guesthouse. He settled her clothes in the drawer he had designated as hers, and then shut the door. She wouldn’t see her designer suit, La Perla lingerie, and Jimmy Choos again until late Sunday evening. Until then, she would either remain naked or wear exactly what he selected for her. There would be no deviation from his requirements. She would not complain or suggest something different. Lana was obedient, never questioning, close to ideal.

  So why was his head so filled with someone else?

  He looked over his sub. She was his match in every way. Lana was well educated. She maintained her lovely body with daily trips to the gym. She was roughly thirty-five, but he was fairly certain she already had regular appointments with a plastic surgeon. She was stunning and had no intention of being anything else. Most importantly, she knew who she was and what she wanted. It was what he absolutely required from any woman he “dated.”

  Jennifer Waters was this woman’s opposite. The painter/waitress could only be described as a hot mess. She was barely twenty-two and had no idea who she was. Her work showed great promise, but she needed years to temper her undisciplined ways. She had come to Bliss in the hopes that she could learn from him, but Stefan didn’t teach. Not art. He was renowned in the art world as an upcoming master, but he didn’t have any idea how to teach what he did.

  He also didn’t know how to get a woman out of his head. She was far too young to be what he needed her to be. Lana was a much better choice. She was cultured and sophisticated. There was never a hair out of place or a nail chipped. Jen’s nails always had paint under them. Stefan could tell what colors were on her palette by looking at her nails.

  He was utterly fascinated with Jennifer’s hands.

  “Up,” he said, eager to get his mind off troublesome subjects.

  Lana rose with grace. She stood calmly as he looked her over. She wasn’t waiting for his judgment. Stef had no doubt that she knew exactly how good she looked and how much he wanted her sexually. She was merely waiting for his next command, for the next move in the game they were playing.

  “Present yourself to me,” he said quietly.

  She walked to the middle of the austerely decorated room and leaned over the plush sofa. Her hands pressed against the arm. She placed her well-formed ass high in the air. Stefan sighed, satisfied with her obedience. He almost never needed to discipline Lana. Occasionally, she was late due to her job. That resulted in time spent over his lap or in the whipping chair, depending upon the degree of the infraction, but that was a rare occurrence. Lana didn’t play at this like so many others. She didn’t purposefully disobey to force him to discipline her. It was why she continued to be invited to his playroom. Stefan ran his hand down her straight spine and let his fingers drift to the cleft in her ass. He loved the sleek lines of her body. Her legs went on for days. She really was a work of art. He felt his interest rising as he heard the car pulling up the drive.

  Stefan looked out the bay window and saw the beige-and-white SUV pulling up. The driver slammed on the brakes and then proceeded to jam his door shut. Satisfaction of another kind filled him and Stef smiled. It was Rye. He’d expected that Max would be the one to violently assault him, but he was happy to see Rye. It proved that Rachel was a smooth co-conspirator. He’d left the choice of which brother to tell of his offer to her, and she’d chosen correctly. Rye was the one she needed to break. Max would follow along.

  “We have company,” Stef murmured, shoving his finger into her tight pussy anyway. She had been a very good girl. There was no reason to punish her because Rye was insanely jealous. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time Rye had walked in on him having sex.

  Max and Rye hadn’t always merely shared with each other. They’d enjoyed some of Stef’s games, too. Stef remembered a particularly hot night when the three of them had shared a woman.

  He reached up with his thumb to swirl around Lana’s clitoris. She moaned a bit.

  “Silent,” Stef said, reminding her. “I’ll let you know when you can make noise, darling.”

  She closed her lips and made no move to cover herself even when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in.” Stefan added a second finger and picked up the pace. “Hold off until I give you leave.”

  Rye stalked through the door, a fierce frown on his face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Stef?”

  “Well, right now, I’m playing.” He felt the heat of her pussy. She was ripe and wet. Lana was extremely responsive. Her body had been trained to receive pleasure, so she expected it. Stefan could feel the willpower it took for her to stand and allow him to pleasure her. It took discipline to do it. He admired discipline.

  “Could you stop playing and talk to me for a minute?” Rye’s question came out in an irritated hiss.

  It didn’t concern Stefan. He had an obligation. “No, you’ll have to talk to me like this or wait until I’ve seen to my submissive. If you don’t like it, you should have had your problems when it wasn’t my playtime.”

  Stefan pressed his fingers into her clenching pussy and rotated. He knew exactly which spot to hit.

  “Fuck this, Stef,” Rye growled. “I have a serious problem with you.”

  “Our guest is going to prove irritating, dear,” Stefan said to his sub. “Perhaps you should come, and then we can pay him proper attention. Consider yourself off the leash.”

  Lana pushed back against his hand, fucking his fingers. She moaned loudly as he hit the perfect spot, and she went flying. A pretty blush covered her skin. She let her head fall forward and groaned as she extracted maximum satisfaction from her orgasm. When Stefan was sure she was done, he removed his fingers from her body, then turned to Rye.

  “How may I help you today, Rye?” Stefan knew exactly what Rye took exception to, but he found himself anticipating the coming confrontation. He moved to the bathroom, washing his hands quickly and schooling his expression. As he walked back in the room, Lana silently sank to her knees, assuming the proper submissive position at his side. He let his hand find her hair to acknowledge her good behavior.

  Most men wouldn’t be able to take their eyes off the lovely sub, but Rye was different. He was obviously a man on a mission.

  “What the fuck do you mean by offering to take Rachel in?”

  “Such language.” Stefan laughed as he walked to the bar. He poured himself a couple of fingers of Scotch. It was ridiculously expensive, but he always had the best. “I merely offered the lovely Rachel a place to stay. I was being neighborly. She mentioned she was going to need a new home soon.”

  “She doesn’t need anything from you.” Rye paced the room, seemingly unable to stand still.

  He looked his best friend over. They had grown up together. Stefan’s
father was an eccentric millionaire who took a liking to Bliss and moved his son there. Even after his father had returned to his jet-setting lifestyle and the family mansion in Dallas, Stefan had stayed in Bliss with a nanny and several servants. Rye and Max had been a big reason he chose to stay in the town. They were the brothers he’d never had. Callie was as close as a sister. They, and everyone else in the offbeat town, were his family. And he never backed down from trying to help out his family, even when they didn’t ask.

  He wondered if Rye had any idea how much he looked like an angry bull at the moment. His normally happy-go-lucky friend was like a predatory animal circling an opponent. Thank god Rachel had made the right choice. Rye was the reasonable one. If she’d told Max, he would probably already be on his ass. Max wouldn’t have asked questions. He would have done exactly what he had done since they were children. He would fight first and ask questions never. Max was pure pit bull. Rye, on the other hand, would circle his prey, play with it for a while, and that was where Stef would strike.

  “She explained to me that she needs a place to stay,” Stefan remarked negligently. “Luckily, I have this place. I think she’ll find it very comfortable.”

  Rye’s jaw looked like it was made of granite, a sure sign that he was tightly holding on to his rage. “Are you planning on training her?” He indicated the woman at Stef’s side. “You getting rid of that one so you can move Rachel in? Do you think Rachel is weak-willed enough that she’ll be your slave?”

  Oh, he should not have gone there. He wanted to help Rye, but he wasn’t about to let him act like an ass. “First of all, there is nothing weak-willed about Lana. She’s my guest, and you will treat her with respect or you will leave.” He looked down at his part-time submissive. “You have my permission to speak, sweetheart. Tell our intensely rude guest who you are and what you do for a living.”

  Lana’s head came up. Stef could see Rye flush with embarrassment. He knew Rye hadn’t meant to be rude, but the mistake would be corrected nonetheless.

  “My name is Lana Wilson. I’m the owner and CEO of True Line International. I’m worth roughly a billion dollars, depending on how the market goes. I enjoy my time with the master. It’s how I relax. I make no apologies for my sexual desires, whoever you are. If you have a problem with it, I don’t care.”

  Rye seemed to deflate. “I am sorry. I don’t judge. As perverse as I’ve been on occasion, I really shouldn’t. I’m just pissed off that your Master here seems to think he can swoop in and take my girl.”

  Stefan raised a single eyebrow. “Your girl?”

  “Max’s girl.” Rye corrected himself, sounding sheepish. He suddenly seemed fascinated with his boots.

  “Then I have to ask why Maxwell isn’t here defending the lady?” He walked to his friend and put an arm around his shoulder. “I thought I was helping you out, Rye. It can’t be easy living with her when you’re not…living with her. You need to figure this out. I can see it’s killing you. Why are the two of you denying your natures? We promised each other a long time ago that we wouldn’t pretend.”

  “Max loves her.” Rye’s hoarse voice matched the weary look in his eyes. “She loves him. I can’t screw it up for him.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “You love her, too. You have to know Max wouldn’t want you left out.”

  Rye shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t think Rachel would want that. She’s a normal girl.”

  Stef sighed and stepped back. He’d known this was only the opening move. “There’s no such thing. If someone looks ‘normal,’ they’re either hiding their kinks well or utterly denying who they are. I don’t think Rachel is into denial. Have you asked her? Have you been honest about what you and Max need?”

  Rye ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and every muscle in his body seemed bunched and tense. “Just stay out of it. It’s none of your business. If I see you trying to tempt Rachel away from Max, I’ll take care of it, and you won’t like how I do it. Do you understand?”

  He put up his hands. He had no intention of staying out of it, but he wasn’t going to argue with Rye. It was time to bring it down a notch. “Absolutely. I’m sorry. I thought I was being helpful.”

  Rye sent him a stubborn stare. “Well, you’re not.”

  “I can see that plainly now and I’ll let Rachel know the space has been taken.” He was quiet for a moment. “Will I see you at the picnic tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow was the Founder’s Day gathering. It was the biggest event Bliss held. Stef had plans for the brothers. He and Rachel had been plotting for almost a week.

  “Yes.” Rye seemed to make a conscious effort to calm down. Rye usually attended, but Max stayed away from crowds. They tended to annoy him. “Rachel says we have to go. All of us. She’s helping Stella out at her booth, but she’s made it plain we’re to put in an appearance. She wants Max to clean up his image or some nonsense.”

  He doubted there would be any image building for Max beyond the fit he would throw when he realized what was happening. “I’ll see you then.”

  Rye walked out, but Stef was satisfied that he looked more contemplative than when he had walked in. His friend would think about what they had talked about all day. Rye would be ripe for the plucking when tomorrow came around. Yes, everything was ready. Stef looked down at Lana.

  “What do you think, dear?” She was a highly intelligent woman whose opinion he valued.

  Lana stared at the door that Rye had walked out of. “He’s in love with her. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t want them. His brother is a twin, right? I have friends who will take them, if she’s too much of a prude.”

  He sat down and tapped his thighs. Lana immediately placed herself in his lap. “She isn’t. She’s very much looking forward to tomorrow. We’ll need to stay in the main house. I’m giving them this place for the evening.”

  “He seemed adamant. I think he might be hard to move,” she stated thoughtfully.

  He reached over and pushed a small button on the side table. A door slid open where there had appeared to be none. Lana showed no discomfort as two men walked out from the hiding space.

  “I intend to give him a reason to stake his claim,” he explained.

  “I take it that was our mark?” asked Bay, the older of the brothers. Shane was silent, watching Lana with lust in his eyes.

  “One of them,” Stef replied. “Lana, dear, do you think they’ll do?”

  He watched as Lana looked over the two men thoughtfully. They were in their early twenties, and both had a rugged attractiveness to them. He’d met the older of the two brothers when he bought a sculpture the man had done. It was a haunting piece of work, and Stef had sought out the artist. He’d been surprised to discover he was a rodeo cowboy. He’d struck up a strange friendship with the brothers. Now he would use them to his own ends. They would get something out of it, too, of course. He was a great believer in reciprocity.

  “Yes, I believe they will work quite nicely.” She pouted as she looked back at him. “Are they only here to make the twins jealous, or did you have something else in mind, Master?”

  She knew him well.

  “Shane, Bay.” He indicated that they could come closer. “My pretty sub would love for you to play with her.”

  The brothers were out of their clothes before he could get another word out, but Lana waited patiently.

  “Go on, dear,” he said affectionately. “I believe they’re ready. Ah, youth.”

  Lana fell to her knees and put that talented mouth around Bay’s cock. Shane positioned himself to taste her pussy. Stefan sat back and enjoyed the show.

  * * * *

  Max stared at the computer in front of him, his whole body going cold.

  Callie stood in the doorway, peering into his brother’s office. Max could tell she was beginning to suspect he was using the computer for something he shouldn’t. “Are you sure you don’t need something?”

  Oh, he needed something. He needed better weaponry and
a security system for the house and some bodyguards so he knew Rachel was never alone.

  Liz, he corrected. Her real name was Liz.

  “Do you know where Rye is?” was all he asked.

  Callie shook her head. “He’s not supposed to be back in until Monday. Logan’s staking out that T-intersection where no one ever stops.” She shrugged apologetically. “We could use a new fridge in the break room, and the microwave is on the fritz.”

  “I tried his cell, and he didn’t answer.” Max stared dumbly at the computer screen. He should have done the search at home, but he knew Rye had access to things he didn’t. He’d gotten past Callie by saying he needed to use the Internet to look up some directions. He guessed Rye’s password on the second try and quickly found what he needed now that he had her real name.

  Of course, if he had known what he would find, he would have brought Rye in from the beginning. He’d just been cautious. If Rachel was running from people she owed money to or was running from the cops, he would have handled the situation without Rye.

  She was running from a cop, all right, but there was nothing about the situation that could compromise Rye’s job. This was Rye’s job. He was honor bound to protect and serve, and Rachel needed both.

  “He’s in the Bronco, right?” Callie twirled her dark brown hair around her fingers thoughtfully. It was a habit she’d had since they were kids.

  Max nodded. Rye had taken his county-issued vehicle when he left on his mysterious errand.

  Callie sighed, and Max could tell she’d decided to shelve her curiosity. “I’ll try raising him on the radio, then. Sometimes he forgets to charge his cell. Half the time that thing doesn’t work, anyway. The coverage out here is iffy at best.”

  She walked off, and Max felt bad. He’d always been the one to see to things like that. He was more organized than Rye. Even when they were kids, Max had been the one to make sure Rye had everything he needed when it came to school. If it had been up to Rye, he would have never brought a lunch or had a pencil with him. Rye forgot, so Max took over. Max handled that stuff for Rye when he was doing it for himself. He plugged in Rye’s cell every night right before he plugged in his own. Last night, he’d put his on the charger and then charged the one he had bought for Rachel. It seemed an imposition to barge into Rye’s room and force him to charge his phone.