by Jade Allen
Nixie was so enraptured with the feeling of being filled so completely that she barely noticed the shift in the blanket beneath her as someone came to kneel in front of her. She gasped as a hand slipped under her chest and lifted her so that she came up on her hands. Damian was on his knees in front of her, his fully engorged cock standing out from his unzipped fly.
Her head snapped around to look over her shoulder and she saw Remy behind her, his hips rolling slowly to sink into her deeper with each stroke. Nixie pulled herself up onto her knees so that she leaned back against Remy and turned her head to kiss him. The kiss seemed to spur him on and his pace increased. Without taking her mouth from Remy's, Nixie reached forward for Damian.
When she felt the fabric of his shirt touch her hand, she turned to him and started unbuttoning the buttons, keeping her back arched so that Remy stayed deep inside her.
"I told you that I share very well," Damian said as she pushed his shirt off of his shoulders.
"Good boy," she said breathlessly, pulling him forward into a kiss.
Nixie wrapped her hand around Damian's erection and began to stroke him to match Remy's rhythm, reaching back with her free hand to hold onto Remy's thigh. She could felt Damian's hands pushing his pants away and soon she had both beautiful cowboys naked and pressed close to her.
Damian rested his hands on her hips and drew her forward toward him. She gave herself over to them, allowing them to move her as they wanted to. He eased her away from Remy so that he withdrew from her body.
"Lay down," he whispered.
Nixie settled onto her hip and lay back, letting Remy guide her so that her head rested on his thigh where it connected with his hip. Damian parted her thighs and draped them over his own, lifting her hips up so that he plunged into her. Nixie cried out and he replied with a harder thrust, causing her to arch higher.
Remy's hand came to the side of her face and he stroked her cheek for a few seconds before guiding her head to the side toward his erection. She opened her mouth and let it glide against his length, her tongue tracing the veins and ridges until she reached the head. Grasping the base of his shaft with one hand, she lifted her head enough to slide him in across her tongue. He tucked his hand behind her head to support it as she let his cock slip out of her mouth so that she could continue licking around the head and back down. Like she had with Damian, she grasped Remy's shaft tightly and mimicked Damian's thrusts so that the three of them moved in the same rhythm together.
Remy leaned down to kiss her as he slid his hand down over one breast, along her stomach, and to the apex of her thighs. His fingers slipped over her peak and she drew in a breath, her head falling away from his for a moment before she lifted it again to kiss him with greater intensity.
As if they had choreographed it, both men suddenly moved. Damian withdrew from her and moved to her side while Remy held her head up off his lap and eased himself around to her other side. She felt him push gently on her shoulder so that she curled over onto her hip and he tucked forward to mold his body to hers. Remy's hand came between her knees and he pulled her top leg up and back so that it draped over his, allowing him to enter her again.
This new position afforded Damian an unobstructed view of her and he watched hungrily for a few seconds before leading her head toward him so that she took his shaft in her mouth. Nixie whimpered, nearly overwhelmed by the pure, unrelenting pleasure of both men worshipping her body and allowing her to worship theirs. The harder Remy thrust into her, the hungrier she became and she soothed that hunger by sucking Damian deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip of his erection and gathering the drops of salty-sweet fluid that formed there.
It was the perfect balance, an extraordinary sense of completeness and fulfillment she had never experienced. Remy's hand cupped her breast, both kneading into it and using it for leverage as he pounded into her. She reached back to grab his hip, keeping them tightly connected in a way that allowed him to increase his speed and pressure. Damian completed the circle, letting his hand trail down her stomach before his fingertips touched her swollen bud, applying just enough pressure that within seconds she crashed into an all-consuming climax.
Her body shuddered with the tremors that rocked through her and she opened her mouth further, allowing Damian to thrust into her throat several deep times before his body tightened and he growled with release. At the same second Remy grunted and bit down into her shoulder to muffle his own sounds as he spilled into her. Nixie moaned as the boys filled her, both clutching at her and gasping for breath as she swallowed deeply to pull Damian in further and milked Remy with the final tremors of her climax.
Finally the three collapsed onto the blanket together and Nixie entangled herself in both of her boys, cuddling back into Remy's body while draping an arm and a leg over Damian. She kissed both of them and they nuzzled her, their hands stroking tenderly along her body as they all cooled and relaxed.
"So how many times have you done that before?" she asked when she finally felt like she could speak again.
"Never," Damian replied and she felt Remy shake his head in confirmation.
"Really?"
Remy kissed her shoulder.
"Really."
"Are you going to do it again?"
"With you?" Remy asked.
Nixie nodded and saw Damian grin, those craving-inducing eyes flickering to Remy over her shoulder and then back to her.
"Absolutely," he said, leaning forward to kiss her.
****
A week later, Nixie sat on her usual stool, watching Patrick try to master a pink and blue princess-themed cocktail that she felt was way too complicated considering it contained so many different types of liquor the person drinking it would have no idea what it looked like after one sip.
"A literal roll in the hay?" he asked, dropping a cherry down into the drink and creating a murky-looking blend of colors. "Dammit."
"Mmmmm," Nixie murmured her affirmation and took a long sip of the far-less complex drink in front of her.
"How much tequila did you have exactly?"
Nixie laughed.
"Two shots. Trust me, I was fully cognizant of everything that was happening." She sighed, "Everything."
Patrick started to say something, then looked down sharply, dropping several more cherries into the drink with quick succession. Nixie felt a kiss come to either side of her neck and reached up with both hands to touch Damian and Remy's faces.
"Hi, boys," she said happily.
Remy climbed up onto the stool beside her and Damian patted her hip until she got up and let him sit down so he could pull her down to sit between his legs.
"Did you have a good ride, gentlemen?" Patrick asked and both of the guys laughed. Patrick reddened and struggled to come up with more words, "I mean on your horses. Your horses! You are cowboys, right? I mean… that's what cowboys do. You ride…horses. I'm going on break."
They were still laughing as Patrick scurried away from the bar. Nixie intertwined her fingers with Remy's and turned to kiss Damian on the cheek, nestling back against him contentedly.
"Hi, Nixie."
A familiar voice broke the comfortable, happy moment. She turned to see Bryan standing a few feet away.
"Hello, Bryan," she said icily.
She held Remy's hand a little tighter and felt Damian tighten his grip on her protectively.
"I see you still come here on Friday nights," he said awkwardly.
As if you didn't know that and didn't come here the last two weeks expressly for that reason.
"Every Friday," she confirmed.
Bryan reddened slightly and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Yeah," he said, "I heard. I wanted to say I'm sorry about the whole party thing last week. I should have picked a better place. Um, speaking of that… can I talk to you for a minute?"
Nixie stared at him blankly. For the first time, she really felt nothing for him. There was no sadness, no anger, no frustration. She hon
estly hadn't thought about him for a single second in the last week and it was an amazing feeling.
"Go ahead. Talk."
Bryan shifted again, his expression becoming more and more agitated with each passing second. She could see his eyes jumping back and forth between her hips tucked between Damian's thighs and her hand holding Remy's.
"I've been thinking a lot about everything that happened and I…Do we really have to talk about this right here?"
Nixie nodded.
"Yes. I'm done doing things on your terms, Bryan. If you want to talk to me, it's going to be right here, right now."
He gave a deep sigh.
"Fine," he said, "The day after the party I found out that Angela has been sleeping with my best man."
Nixie fought to withhold the triumphant laugh that was building in her chest.
"That's so sad for you," she said, trying to sound as genuine as possible.
"Yeah, well, it got me thinking. Maybe I was too quick about everything. I just got so wrapped up that I made a really stupid decision ending things with you the way I did and maybe we could have another chance."
Both of the men holding her tensed, but Nixie rubbed their hard, jeans-covered thighs soothingly, her body already tingling at the thought of how those thighs felt without the jeans covering them. She gave each a deep, connecting kiss before turning back to Bryan with a smile
"I'm sorry, Bryan, but that's just not going to happen. You see, while you thought you were celebrating finding 'the one', I was absolutely celebrating finding my two."
THE END
The Billionaire Cowboy’s Desire
“You want me to pass up Donna Karan, Marc Jacobs, Vera Wang, and Mathieu Mirano? All to spend a week in the company of cows and chickens?!?” Ava exclaimed.
“And horses...” her best friend Christie interjected, as if that should adequately justify passing up a trip to the fashion houses of New York in exchange for a week-long “life on a ranch” experience.
It wasn't that Ava had anything against farm animals, she just made a rule of keeping them as far away from her Gucci stilettos and her Jimmy Choo pumps as possible. OK, up until now, there had been no rule on the subject, but given her friend's ludicrous request, it was about time the rule be made.
“You know I could never afford the trip on my own, and admit it, you can't possibly think your meager savings is going to get you through those houses' front doors, never mind walking out with bags of irresistible clothing.”
Christie may have a point, but Ava wasn't ready to back down just yet. Besides, she'd be perfectly happy sitting outside of Michael Kors, watching the wealthiest of society prance in and out. She'd be content to dream of the day women would prance in and out of her shop, adorning themselves in her fabulous creations—just not at the same ridiculous price tags. It was her driving force; Ava loved everything about the fashion industry, except for the astronomical cost that came with being fashionable. It was what had kept her dressed in thrift shop finds as a kid, instead of in the beautiful clothing that only the rich girls could afford. She wanted to learn every couture secret out there and use her knowledge to make the art of fashion accessible to the next generation of less-than-filthy-rich teens and young women.
“Then why don't we pool our money and you come with me to New York?” she posited, thinking it to be a far more reasonable request, even as Christie's eyes seemed to bulge out of her head at the suggestion.
“You can throw on a pair of overalls and look just fine on a ranch. What do you think it's going to take to get me prepped for a fashion house?” Christie asked dryly, surveying her generic brand leggings and oversized T-shirt.
“Besides, you're at the top of your class. We both know you're destined for a glamorous internship and a star-studded career in the fashion industry. What need is a ranch going to have for a mediocre paralegal when I'm finished school? So, it's only fair that you come with me before your career takes off and you no longer have time for us little people,” Christie cajoled, with puppy dog eyes and a devilish grin.
Ava had no doubt that Christie knew she was about to win. It was one of Ava's greatest gifts and her biggest flaw at the same time. She was too kind-hearted. Not in the way that made her a good person, but in the way that made her a perpetual doormat. Throughout her childhood and high school years, she was a habitual people-pleaser, and it had interfered with every facet of her life, from her social life to her academic performance.
However, from the day she was accepted into the Bachelor of Fine Arts in Apparel Design at the Rhode Island School of Design, her life changed. She had found something she was good at, something she could take pride in. Ava was happy, and her confidence soared. When it came to Christie, her spine seemed to turn to Jello. Christie was right; Sarah would likely be spending the last year of her degree in fashion hot spots like New York, Milan and Paris. Meanwhile, she knew Christie had dreamed of learning to work with horses since she was a little girl—and even less well-off than Ava—and who knew how long it would be before she had another opportunity like this one.
Ava exhaled heavily, rolling her eyes. Christie's grin transformed into an enormous smile, recognizing the resignation and knowing she'd accomplished her goal. She threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly for a moment before standing upright, a frantic look on her face.
“OK, so that means we have exactly two weeks until we leave. I'll take care of all the arrangements. You just make sure you pack something that the cows and chickens can't ruin,” Christie teased.
Ava nodded, trying to mentally envision the contents of her closet and cringing at the thought of manure-soaked crepe de chine pants or mud-splattered silk tunics. It wasn't that her clothing was the most expensive stuff out there—most of her wardrobe was actually comprised of her own designs—but she'd hate to ruin so many one-of-a-kind creations. Deciding not to think about the impending defilement of her attire, she glanced at her watch, realizing she'd been dallying at lunch for too long.
“I gotta go!” she announced, rising from the diner's booth. “I've got a heavy schedule all week, so give me a call this weekend and we'll finalize the details.” “...and see if I can't figure out how to weasel my way out of this rustic excuse for a vacation,” she mumbled under her breath.
Unfortunately, the week passed by too quickly, and by the time the weekend arrived, she hadn't even a pitiful excuse in sight. Worse, Christie had investigated the itinerary for the vacation, and as she recited it over the phone, Ava fought valiantly against the urge to back out. Early mornings, horse grooming, ranch maintenance—which she could only imagine meant cleaning out stalls and other ungodly tasks. But at the end of the long list of indescribable horrors sat the reason Ava stood strong against the innate desire to flee. Horseback riding, training sessions, sunset trail riding and other stuff that she knew meant the world to Christie. She committed the trip—and its wretched itinerary—to the back of her mind for her remaining week in civilization, and did her best to make every moment pass by as slowly as possible. Unfortunately, the fates were unkind to Ava, speeding her through the week at an exorbitant speed and before she knew it, their day of departure was upon her.
She awoke early to squeeze in a shower and prep time before their flight. Slipping on a pair of form-fitting, bootcut jeans and a simple viscose tank top that had a deceptively demure neckline in the front but plunged all the way to the waist of her jeans in the back. She checked her reflection in the mirror, sliding her hands along the outline of her curvy figure. At first, studying in the fashion industry, she'd been terribly self-conscious about her curves, but as time went by and she saw one skinny model after the next, she realized something. Those women, while beautiful, were cookie cutters, exact replicas of one another. Even worse, from studying behind the scenes she had come to see their many flaws; sunken faces, bony thinness, Botox and volume injections and a steady calendar of plastic surgery to keep up with the latest body trend.
In contrast
, Ava saw herself as absolutely unique, with a curvy, one-of-a-kind frame, long, golden blonde hair and crystal blue eyes that captured the attention and admiration of men and women alike. Satisfied with the woman staring back at her in the mirror, Ava nodded, heading out into the small, common living room of her shared apartment. She grabbed her luggage from next to the front door and forced her feet to usher her downstairs to the lobby where Christie was, no doubt, already waiting anxiously. She did her best to plaster a smile on her face, seeing no point in making this a miserable experience for both of them, and made small talk all the way to the airport and throughout the plane ride from Rhode Island to Colorado. Ava loved to fly, though her tight budget didn't allow for air travel very often.
The four-hour flight flew by quickly, and Ava took a deep breath as she stepped off the plane. This was it; there was no turning back. She wasn't entirely certain what she had against ranch life so much—aside from the obvious muck and mud issues, of course. She supposed it must have something to do with the unfamiliarity of the situation. In truth, the only pet Ava had ever had was a goldfish, her parents both allergic to most domestic animals. She felt very out of her comfort zone when she thought about spending time on a ranch, surrounded by large, strange animals and burly farmworkers. So much land somehow seemed unnatural, too, having grown up in a two-bedroom apartment before moving into the apartment she shared with two other fashion students.
Perhaps it was about time she opened her mind and gave ranch life an honest try—at least for the week—she thought as she spotted a man holding up a sign with their names. Walking over to him, he greeted them both kindly, offering to take their bags and escort them to the vehicle waiting outside, which turned out to be a luxury sedan, pleasing Ava immensely. She had imagined having to ride in the back of a rusty old pickup truck all the way from the airport to the ranch, and was pleasantly surprised by the unexpected luxury ride. Traveling at least thirty minutes to the ranch, the car pulled into a long, winding driveway that lead to a well-kept, moderate-size ranch house.