by BJ Wane
Have they always played so dirty, or was this a new tactic now that she was older and more independent? Either way, it didn’t matter. She would cave, she always did. But, God, she didn’t want to go to Montana.
“Fine. I’ll go since you took it upon yourselves to clear it with my boss for me to work remotely.” That also rankled. “But give me a time limit. I refuse to leave my home for an indefinite period.” There, exerting an ounce of independence made her feel much better.
Theresa squeezed her, her smile coming through her voice as she replied, “Thank you. It won’t be bad, I promise. We have some friends who run a small dude ranch. You’ll have fun.”
A dude ranch? Could this exile get any worse? “How long, Theresa?” she reiterated, pulling out of her arms.
“Give us a month. Will you do that?” Jordan asked.
“A whole month? What am I supposed to do in my spare time? Muck out smelly stables?” A shudder of revulsion rippled down her spine. Eew!
Theresa laughed, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the kitchen. “It won’t hurt you to repay their hospitality by pitching in to help, but I’m sure they won’t ask you to. Greg and Devin are former agents and have experience with keeping an eye on people in trouble. I’m sure we can convince them to welcome you as a guest for a few weeks.”
Kelsey narrowed her eyes as a small thread of hope blossomed inside her. “You haven’t asked them yet, have you? A possible reprieve.” She threw her fisted hand up in the air with a wide grin. “Woo hoo!” The unsure look Jordan and Theresa exchanged offered her an even bigger boon. Neither of them was as sure of her welcome on this dude ranch as they let on.
Greg Young eyed his friend, Dan Shylock from across the table. The Barn, their private club, was still quiet with him, his partner, Devin, Dan, the Dunbars and the sheriff the only ones here at the moment. They’d just finished a short meeting regarding the club’s newest members, Kurt Wilcox and Mitchell Hoffstetter, and were enjoying a drink before opening the doors. He didn’t know much about either man other than Kurt and Caden were old high school friends and Kurt had recently returned to the area after a twelve-year absence. Mitchell was the new, much-needed doctor in Willow Springs and both were experienced Doms.
He relished the few hours he and Devin spent here every Saturday night, socializing with friends and indulging their ménage kinks with willing submissives. But now, Dan just informed them he and Nan were going to tie the knot, following in the footsteps of first Caden then Grayson and shortly after him, Connor.
“We were hoping you would hold out longer. Soon there won’t be anyone left to play with if this keeps up.” Shaking his head, Greg sighed as if disappointed, but in truth, was happy for the lawyer. He and Devin had enjoyed the pleasure of Nan’s submission before her recent commitment and knew what a lucky man Dan was.
“Doubtful,” Dan returned. “Besides, after five years, we decided we knew each other better than most couples when they marry.”
“When it’s right, it’s right. I took way too long learning that the hard way,” Connor put in. Kicking his long legs out, he leaned back in his chair, eying Greg and Devin from under the lowered brim of his Stetson. “You two have never lacked for female attention.”
Devin lifted one dark eyebrow and nodded at Connor’s left hand. “Neither did you, but there you are.”
“Jealous?” the younger Dunbar taunted.
The men all laughed at that, but only Greg knew just how low the odds of his best friend and business partner settling down with one woman were. He had rebounded faster than Devin after the fuck-up that prompted them to leave the Bureau five years shy of full retirement. Taking a smaller pension had been a small price to pay for losing a protected witness but, unlike Devin, Greg refused to let one failure keep him from having an open mind about the future.
“As delightful as we find your wife, there hasn’t been a relationship either of us has envied,” he answered for both himself and Devin. “Who would indulge the girls’ fantasies of submitting to two men if we split off and restricted ourselves to one woman?”
A wry grin twisted Caden’s lips as he pushed his chair back and stood. “I can’t wait to see which one of you caves first.” Looking toward the front doors as they opened, a smile stretched his leathered face, softening his gaze. “And there is my lovely, pain in the butt wife now.”
Grayson shifted the toothpick he was chewing on to the corner of his mouth as his lips curled. “What has Sydney done this time?” he asked, keeping his gray/green gaze on his wife as she and her friends headed toward their table.
Caden fisted his hands on his hips and shook his head in mock disgust. “I should know better than to ask her to do anything except cook, but we brought in a newborn who lost its mama overnight and needed hand feeding.”
Greg and Devin might still be new Masters in the club, but in the eighteen months they’d been members, they’d heard enough rumored stories about Sydney’s penchant for spoiling animals to know she’d taken her husband’s instructions a step further than he wanted.
“And?” Dan prompted as Nan settled on his lap wearing an eye-catching tight, leather dress with crisscross straps down the sides. All the Doms enjoyed the slender brunette’s taste in fetish clothing.
“And I returned at lunch to check on the calf and was he in his stall in the new calving barn? No.” He shook his head. “How the hell she managed to get him into the mess hall is beyond me, but there he was, lying on a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace, all snug and content, with the dogs guarding him.”
“I couldn’t leave him alone out there,” Sydney said, padding up to her annoyed husband with Tamara and Avery joining Connor and Grayson. “There are no other calves in there right now, and he was missing his mom. Really, Caden, have you no heart? At least there he could see me in the kitchen and know he wasn’t alone.”
Caden blew out a breath, as if giving up trying to reason with her. “That’s okay, darlin’. I felt better after you spent ten minutes over my lap. Come on. You can help me behind the bar.”
Maybe Greg hadn’t been totally honest a few minutes ago, he pondered, watching the couple walk hand-in-hand across the hardwood floor to the circular bar in the center of the converted barn. Surely that wasn’t a pang of envy tightening his abdomen. Like Devin, bachelorhood suited him just fine, or, it had until they’d joined this club and witnessed the downfall of each of their friends in the last year and a half. But ever since he and Devin helped Dan coax Nan back into the lifestyle she loved after a traumatic experience rendered her incapable of embracing the erotic pain she got off on, he’d been as discontented flitting from submissive to submissive as Dan was during Nan’s long, unexplained absence. Watching how the lawyer had taken advantage of his and Nan’s close relationship, both here at the club and outside this sex-charged atmosphere, to aid her in healing before resulting in their now fully committed relationship had started him on contemplating the merits of such a bond.
“You look good, Nan,” he said now, pleased to see the shadows haunting her gold eyes were fading more and more with each day that had passed since she’d returned from testifying against the bastard who had abused her. That sexy dress conjured up the feel and taste of her soft skin as she had writhed in bondage.
“Thank you, Sir.” She leaned against Dan, her face flushing with arousal as her fiancé slid his hand up the inside of her bare leg, her thighs falling open to give him unfettered, unabashed access to wherever he wanted to go.
“Putting that asshole away for twenty years agrees with you,” Devin remarked as he pushed his chair back and stood. “But since your Master has gone all possessive of you lately, I’ll excuse myself.” He looked toward Greg. “Coming?”
Nodding, he rose as Connor nudged Tamara up, saying, “I’ll take the first shift monitoring upstairs. You’re with me, sweetie.”
Greg smiled as Tamara narrowed her eyes at Connor’s back as he tugged her toward the stairs lea
“Can’t tell him that.” Grayson hefted Avery over his shoulder and smacked her upturned butt then lifted a hand to them as he strolled toward the spanking benches near the back.
“We’ll catch you two later.” Greg turned to ask Devin what, or who he had in mind for tonight when his phone buzzed from his back pocket with an incoming call. Pulling it out, he checked the caller I.D. and glanced at Devin with a cautious expression. “It’s McAllister.”
“No.”
Devin’s quick, unequivocal reply didn’t surprise Greg. “You don’t know what he wants. Maybe he’s just checking in.” Even Greg didn’t believe their ex-boss at the Bureau would call just to chat, but he wasn’t as opposed to talking with Jordan as much as Devin.
“He’s not. The answer’s no,” he bit out, tightening his jaw.
The phone buzzed again. Ignoring his friend’s glower, he brought it to his ear as he strode toward the back doors for a quieter place to talk. “Hello, Jordan,” he answered as he opened the glass slider and stepped out into the cool, September evening air. “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you again?”
Chapter 2
If possible, Devin would slam the sliding back door shut as he followed his soon-to-be ex-friend and partner outside. He was so annoyed with Greg for answering Jordan McAllister’s call he didn’t even spare an appreciative glance toward the two young women enjoying the bubbling hot tub. The nip in the air, a hint fall was sneaking up on them fast, did nothing to cool down his hot temper.
“I’ll have to discuss it with…”
“No,” he interrupted Greg, refusing to hear what favor their ex-government boss wanted from them.
Greg glared at him but his annoyance didn’t come through his smooth reply. “Yeah, you heard right, but if I agree, he can just ignore her. I need to think about it. I’ll call you back in the morning.” He ended the call, leaned against the rail and crossed his arms. Looking toward the hot tub, he stated with polite firmness, “Give us a few minutes, please.”
“Sure, Master Greg.” Mindy, a regular at the club, and her friend, an attractive redhead Devin didn’t know, both stood and stepped out of the heated water.
Devin snatched two towels off the bench and tossed them over to them, the water sluicing down their naked bodies distracting him for a moment. He might be pissed, but he wasn’t brain dead. He waited until the door closed behind their towel-wrapped forms before rounding on Greg again, who still lounged against the rail, giving him that look, the calm under the surface but annoyed mien Devin knew only too well.
“We retired early for a reason,” he reminded Greg, moving to stand next to him, facing the night-shrouded trees several feet from the deck as he leaned his forearms on the post. “We swore we were done, and agreed to start over without looking back, without regrets.”
“And yet the regrets are still there.” Greg sighed and ran one hand through his wavy reddish/brown hair. “You recall the foster kid Jordan and Theresa took in, the young girl they talked about?”
“No.” But of course, he did. He remembered way too much of his years as an agent. Jordan once showed him a school picture of the cute blonde whose large blue eyes dominated a small face.
“Stubborn ass. Anyway, she’s in need of a safe place to hang for a while after an attack at a job site. They’re asking us to take her in until they know what’s going on, if she was the target or just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Devin shook his head. “No. They can find someone else.”
“It’ll only be for a few weeks,” Greg persisted. “And we’re about as far off the grid from Philadelphia as you can get.”
Pushing off the rail, he leveled an angry glare toward his best friend. “No, and God damn it, you know why.” He turned and took two steps toward the doors, intending that to be the end of it since he refused to go down that road again.
Greg’s next words halted him with his hand on the knob. “I’m thinking of saying yes.”
Devin looked back and replied coolly, “You do that, but leave me out of it.” Storming back inside, he went straight to the bar and ordered a beer from Caden.
Handing him the cold bottle, Caden’s shrewd eyes took in his disgruntled face. “Having a bad evening?”
He took a long pull on the cold brew before answering, “Not until just now. If you want, I can spell you early.” It had pleased him and Greg when the owners of the club invited them to act as monitors, which included keeping an eye on the lighter scenes that took place on the lower level while tending bar. The offer signaled their trust in Devin and Greg. None of them knew about the tragedy that ended their FBI careers on a sour note.
“I’ve only put in twenty minutes but if you’re willing to step in, go for it.”
“That works for me, too, Master Devin,” Sydney called out from the other side, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.
An amused grin tugged at his lips. Caden’s girl possessed a knack for getting herself into trouble and a straightforward, irrepressible charm that was hard not to like. “Looks like my timing is good.” Striding toward the end of the circular bar, he lifted the hinged end of the top and beckoned Caden forward. “Go, take care of your wife. I’ve got this.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Caden paused as he went to move past Devin. “Let me know if you need anything.”
He nodded, reading between the lines. “Thanks.”
Taking a position behind the bar, Devin spotted Greg coming back inside. The tenseness in his shoulders eased as Greg headed toward him without hesitation. Their friendship dated back twenty-five years and in all that time, neither of them had allowed their differences to put a dent in their close bond.
“I thought you wanted to scene together tonight,” Greg said, bracing his hands against the bar.
“And I thought you had more sense than to consider taking another protective duty job.” Just the thought of being responsible for keeping someone safe from an unknown threat again produced a ball of nausea in his gut. One failure along those lines was enough.
“They don’t even know if she’s a target. Hell, Devin, we didn’t need to meet her or see the McAllisters with her to know how overprotective they were and apparently still are.” Devin folded his arms in what Greg dubbed his brick wall stance, refusing to listen. Throwing up his hands, Greg snapped, “Fine. I’ll change the subject. Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No, go ahead. I’m not in the mood tonight.”
Shaking his head, Greg muttered, “Stubborn ass,” and shifted his green eyes to scan the room for a needy sub.
“We’ve already established that.” Brett and Sue Ellen strolled up to the bar and Devin turned his attention to the couple that still appeared happy with wedded bliss after almost two decades. “Master Brett, what can I get you two?” The twenty-four-seven Dom/sub lifestyle the two were committed to kept him from asking Sue Ellen directly. It wouldn’t be an easy relationship to maintain for that long, and was one Devin himself wouldn’t care for, but who wouldn’t envy their obvious devotion and the contentment always reflected on their faces?
Brett smiled and flicked one of his wife’s pierced nipples left bare by the leather chest harness that crisscrossed around her breasts with two short straps hooked to the attached collar. “Sue Ellen has grown fond of screwdrivers, and I’ll take a beer. How’s it going tonight, Dev?” He cast a questioning look toward Greg who walked past them leading Mindy toward the stairs.
“We’re big boys,” Devin drawled with a crooked smile as he poured orange juice in a tall glass before adding a shot of vodka. “We can, and often do hook up separately.” He and Greg had favored ménages ever since a horny college girl invited them both up to her room one night following a frat party. Being the equally horny, red-blooded young guys they were, they never thought to turn her down. Thanks to Becky Dalton, they had discovered the thrill of teaming up together and were still indulging their penchant for threesomes fifteen years later.
“I know. I was referring to the disgruntled look Greg just aimed your way.” Brett took the beer Devin handed over and sipped before saying, “It’s not often he looks put out.”
No, between the two of them, Greg was easier going, slower to rile than Devin. But push him too far and his anger wasn’t a quiet rumble like his but a loud explosion that would send a smart person stumbling back until he cooled off. “He and I are disagreeing on something.” He shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”
“Oh my God, Master Brett, you have to tell me where you bought Sue Ellen’s harness,” Nan exclaimed as she and Dan joined them. “Does it have hooks in the back too?”
Sue Ellen giggled at her enthusiasm for the fetish attire and looked up at her husband, seeking silent permission to speak. Brett nodded with an indulgent smile, twirling his finger for her to turn and show the other couple the different possibilities of her new gift. Talking to Dan, he fingered the metal ring behind the neck and then the one in the center of the back strap. “Two different loops to hook cuffed hands to in back as well as the center D ring in front of the collar.”
Dan yanked Nan in front of him and reached around to cup her bare breasts and tug on her clamped nipples. Somewhere along the way, he had divested her of the PVC dress, leaving her wearing only a black, leather thong. Devin leaned against the backside of the bar and watched the two couples converse, admitting to the benefits of two people knowing each other well. Even though he and Greg were strictly heterosexual, their long-lasting friendship held some of the same benefits as a committed couple, such as having someone who knew when to push, and when to back off.
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