Dare to be Three (Dare Menage Series Book 3)

by Jeanne St. James

  She patted the hay next to her. “Get down here, Cow-Boy.”

  “Damn, girl! Why didn’t you throw a blanket down or something? It’s going to be obvious we were rolling around in the hay.”

  “Who else is going to see you naked besides me?” she asked, her eyes narrowed in warning.

  He’d better be very careful with the answer.

  “No one.”

  “Correct answer.”

  “But you know that shit cuts you up and makes you itchy,” he complained.

  Mal sighed. “Look, we gonna do this? Last thing I need is my pop finding us up here caterwauling like a herd of barn cats in heat.”

  A smile lit up his hazel eyes—one of her favorite features on him. She patted the hay again, and he practically belly flopped on top of her. All her breath escaped in an, “Oomph.” But she giggled when he wiggled between her legs.

  “Ah, right where I belong,” he whispered, gazing into her eyes.

  “That’s right, Cow-Boy… I mean Sir Dairy Prince. Why don’t you dazzle me? I want you something fierce.” Boy, did she ever. His hard cock, thick and ready, pressed against her thigh.

  Having heart-pounding sex with him never grew old. The only time she’d found it not enjoyable was the night he popped her cherry. At seventeen, neither of them knew what they were doing, but now a year later, their moves were polished and there was never a complaint from either one of them… Well, only when they couldn’t find the opportunity to hook up. Her pop watched her like a hawk. And Bray’s parents drilled into his head that he better not come home with any grandchildren until he was good and married.

  She studied the man she loved and reached out to straighten his hair, smoothing it down. Her fingers traced the lines of his face, his strong jaw, his corded neck.

  Bray dipped his head to catch her lips with his, nudging her mouth open with his tongue. Not that she needed any encouragement. She touched his tongue with hers and deepened the kiss. He groaned into her mouth before breaking the kiss.

  He smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’m so ready for you, baby. Do you feel how hard I am?”

  “Yeah, so stop talkin’ and start doin’, Cow-Boy.”

  With his heart-breaker grin, he slid down along the scratchy hay to settle between her legs. He nudged her thighs up and she settled her feet on his shoulders as he dove in to “dazzle.” Over the past year, he had discovered what she liked and what she didn’t. Though there wasn’t much she didn’t like. This boy had mad skills when it came to putting his mouth to her pussy.

  She lifted her hips off the ground as he swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking it, then whimpered as he slid two fingers of his rough farmer hands inside of her. One thing about being young and full of raging hormones, it didn’t take much for her to get off. And it helped that Bray knew how to push her buttons. As he brushed his tongue along her clit and thrust his fingers in and out, she fisted his hair to hold him in place, though she doubted that he was planning on going anywhere just yet.

  Within moments, she bowed her neck and opened her mouth, releasing a scream that could have woken the dead. Her inner walls clenched, rippled, and rocked-and-rolled around his fingers.

  When the world finally came back into focus, she looked down her body at him. He lifted his head slightly and wore a wide, shiny smile. “I think I enjoy that as much as you.”

  Mal doubted it. Judging by the boneless state of her body, she was sure she enjoyed it more.

  She reached out her hand. “C’mere, Cow-Boy.”

  He crawled up her body like a prowling mountain lion. Any moment he was going to let out a loud roar. She giggled at the image.

  “What’s so funny, Princess?”

  She only shook her head and then let out a deep sigh when he once again settled between her legs, his erection pressing against her.

  They had a thing. Every time he’d enter her for the first time they would declare their love for each other. Sappy? Yep. But they both looked at sex as a serious thing. And even at eighteen they wanted to show their devotion to each other.

  As he pushed forward, they looked each other in the eyes and whispered their, “I love yous.”

  Bray drove so deep she wanted to scream. He filled her up, made her his. When she wrapped her legs around his thighs, she grabbed his ass in an attempt to bring him closer. His pelvis ground against her already sensitive clit, making her gasp and clench her muscles around him, inside and out.

  “God, baby, you’re always so tight. It drives me crazy.”

  Mal didn’t even try to respond. She couldn’t. She was too busy caught up in the sensations he pulled from her body as he moved in and out of her, making her slicker, hotter.

  “It’s us forever, Princess,” he whispered, his lips against her ear. His cheek pressed to hers, his warm breath blew against her heated skin, pushing her close to the edge. She dug her fingernails—the fake ones she donned just for the competition—into his ass, scoring his flesh.

  The flex of his glutes as he pumped into her became more intense as he increased his pace. He thrust into her over and over until her toes curled, her body tensed, and she sank her teeth into his shoulder to smother her scream. With a grunt he joined her, his cock pulsing deep within her.

  He lowered his weight gently onto her, gathering her close.

  “Forever, Cow-Boy,” she murmured against the damp skin of his neck.

  A loud clattered from down below made them both jump. Bray sat up, holding her tight as if he would protect her. When the bellow of her father’s voice rose to the loft, Mal knew he couldn’t protect her…or them. They were royally fucked.

  “Boy! I know you’re up there! Get down here now or I’m coming up!”

  They both shot each other a look and said, “Shit,” at the same time. Bray’s eyes were wide, most likely from fear of his impending death. Even though they both glanced around, they knew there was no escape, nowhere to hide. And worse, Bray’s clothes were still downstairs. Mal scrambled to pull on the stupid dress she had worn for the Dairy Princess competition, yanking panties full of hay up under the skirt. Talk about a prick being between your legs…

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered. She gave a look of pity to Bray, since he still only wore his badly wrinkled sash.

  The clanking and knocking sounds were getting closer as her father climbed up the ladder to the loft.

  Mal’s eyes widened. She shoved Bray behind her when her father’s head appeared above the loft floor. Not only his head, but a…

  Pitchfork!

  Fuck.

  Her pop slammed the pitchfork flat on the floor as he used it for leverage to pull himself the rest of the way up through the hole. He huffed and puffed, his face a bright red. No doubt he was steaming mad.

  When he regained his balance, he pointed at Bray behind her with a shaky finger. “Boy, I’m going to skin you. What are you doing naked with my daughter? Get away from her.” He picked up the three-pronged fork and continued to point at him with it. “Get out from behind her. Be a man!”

  With a not-so-reassuring squeeze to her shoulders, Bray stepped out to face her angry father, nudging Mal out of the way. And when her pop aimed the pitchfork, Mal screamed at the top of her lungs.

  As if almost in slow motion, they watched in horror as the pitchfork flew through the air. Bray scrambled out of its path just in time so it missed him and the tongs stuck into the wood plank floor with a twang.

  Mal’s heart beat so hard it felt like it was about to escape her chest. She wanted to feel relieved… until she saw her pop stalking towards them.

  “Bray, go!” she screamed.

  With the quickness of youth, Bray ducked around her father and he jumped through the hole. Mal’s stomach rose into her throat as she heard him land hard on the floor below. She heard his groan and a curse, then a scrambling of his feet which sounded like him running out of the barn.

  She faced her father in shock. “Pop, why!”

 
“Why? Because he’s going to knock up my daughter.”

  Mal stomped her foot, getting just as mad as her pop was. “No, Pop. No! I love him!”

  “Bullshit! You’re too young to know what love is. This is lust. Braydon Daniels is just a bull looking for a cow in heat. Don’t be a heifer. Now get in the house.” When she hesitated, he yelled, “Now! If you know what’s good for you. And don’t you dare even think about back talking me.”

  With a sob, she climbed down the ladder and ran out of the barn. She deserved every prick from the dry hay stuck to her clothes on the way to the house.

  She never looked back toward the barn. She knew her Dairy Prince was long gone.

  For More Information:

  Made Maleen: An Erotic Twist on a Fairy Tale