by Unknown
"What are your plans then?"
"I bought a piece of property, and within the next couple of years I want to raise buckin' bulls for the rodeo on it. My parents raised us on a ranch, and pushin' horns is what I know."
"I heard your rode bulls." Mitchell Weston's eyebrows drew together and he frowned.
"Sometimes. It's more of a hobby than a career for me."
"Good to know." The frown on her father's face loosened a bit, and Beau breathed a little easier. "Rodeoin' isn't quite the glamorous life it's made out to be, especially if there's a woman involved right along with the rider."
"No, it's not, Mr. Weston."
"Dad, quit grillin' Beau. It's only a dinner date," Emma said as she walked into the living room.
The black strapless dress hugged her curves in all the right places and made his mouth water. It brushed her legs at mid-thigh, tempting him almost beyond his control to taste, touch, and explore.
A raging hard-on in front of her dad is not the way to impress the man.
"Maybe," her father replied, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "I just like to know somethin' about the men my daughter dates. Is it a crime to care these days?"
She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "No, Dad, it's not." A quick wink in Beau's direction revealed her impish nature. "I'll be home late, so don't wait up."
"You're coming home?" he asked, clearly not believing she didn't plan to stay out all night.
"I don't know for sure, but I don't want you waiting and then me not showing up at all."
"All right, Emma, but be careful, huh?" he said, hugging her, but staring Beau down over the top of her head.
"I will, Dad. I love you."
"I love you, too, Emma."
Beau scrambled to his feet, relieved the interrogation was over for now. Somehow he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet with her father. Mr. Weston seemed the type to expect a ring on his little girl's finger before things got hot and heavy again. How would he feel about Emma being with both me and Brandon as a permanent triad?
Protectiveness, mistrust, and suspicion swirled in her father's gaze when it met Beau's again, and Beau swallowed hard.
Chapter Ten
The lights of Watertown twinkled in the distance as Beau drove Emma's truck down the highway. Tires hummed against the blacktop, lulling her and relaxing her tense shoulders. Catching her Dad grilling Beau made her worry. The last thing she wanted was her father messing up this little rendezvous with Beau and Brandon. If she only had a few days to store away memories, she'd take what she could get.
She'd picked this restaurant for two reasons. One, the food would make anyone's mouth water, and two, there wouldn't be too many folks from Red Rock around—she hoped.
"What are you thinkin' about, darlin'?" Beau asked, grasping her fingers and then entwining them with his own.
"I hope my dad's question and answer session didn't piss you off."
"Nah. He's worried about you. I can't blame him." He glanced her way and then back out the windshield. "How did he find out about our threesome?"
"My big mouth."
"Huh?"
"My ex-fiancé cornered me at the beer taps, and he said some things about you and Brandon. I informed him whether we'd slept together or not was none of his business. My dad overheard the conversation and asked me point blank if we'd slept together. I couldn't lie, so I told him yes." The concerned look on Beau's face sent apprehension down her spine. "It's okay though. He understood."
"To a point, I think he does, but he definitely thinks the less time you spend with us, the better for you."
"He just wants to protect me."
"I know," he murmured, bringing her fingers to his lips and nibbling on the tips. "It's what fathers do."
"Brothers too."
"True. Cade is protective of you."
Several moments of silence passed while she thought about Brandon's story in relation to her own siblings. A sister. She smiled at the thought of them protecting a cute little girl with features similar to theirs. Having brothers herself, she knew how they could be with their siblings—teasing them one moment and ready to punch anyone who hurt them, the next. "I'm sorry about your sister."
"Thanks. It happened a long time ago, but Bailey's always in our thoughts."
"She had cancer?"
"Yeah. Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. She'd been sick since she turned a year old and we always knew she probably wouldn't make it to adulthood. The outcome for her type of cancer didn't bode well."
"Was she older than you?"
A heavy sigh escaped his lips, bringing her attention to their fullness and her need to taste him. "We were actually triplets. She was the third born, a few minutes after Brandon."
"Wow."
"Bailey had chromosomal problems from the beginning. She had Down's Syndrome, too, but she was our third." He inhaled a deep cleansing breath and continued. "Our mother had a real hard time with it—always blaming herself."
"She couldn't control those things."
"I know, and so do you, but when it's something like that…"
The need to take away some of his pain enveloped her heart. Even though she fought with her siblings, she couldn't imagine her life without one of them in it. Cade took care of all of them, and Sharon, the oldest girl, took over the motherly duties when their mom died a few years ago, but she had her own family. Elizabeth was the nosy one—always in everyone's business, but she meant well. Being the youngest sister, Emma got the brunt of their protectiveness, but then they had Jarrod. He got all of it, being the baby of the family. Spoiled, mothered by the sisters, and so handsome women came easy to him, he could have any woman he wanted. Emma knew someday he'd run into a girl who would throw him for a loop, and he wouldn't know what hit him.
All the thoughts of siblings and family made Emma feel closer to Beau than she had before. She laid her head on his shoulder and silently tried to absorb all his hurt and pain. He'd suffered so much loss. Losing a sibling probably hurt as much, if not more, than losing a parent. "I can't even imagine the pain you went through, Beau."
"You lost your mom not long ago, didn't you?" he asked, unlacing their fingers and wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.
Emma sniffed and tried to hold back the tears burning her throat and choking her words. She missed her mom every day, but today seemed worse. The mention of Beau and Brandon's sister brought home the pain and loss she felt. "Yeah. She was hit by a drunk driver and killed."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay," she whispered and then cleared her throat. After a moment, she went on. "It still hurts. She'll never see me marry. She'll never see her grandchildren or great-grandchildren, and I know she looked forward to bouncing them on her knee. Cade's little boy, Alan, hadn't been born yet. Only one of my sisters is already married. Elizabeth and I aren't, and right now, there isn't any prospect of a husband anywhere within several hundred miles. Red Rock isn't a beehive of eligible bachelors, if you hadn't noticed."
"True, but I'm sure there's someone you might think would make good husband material, right?"
"Yeah, but the last thing on their minds…uh…his mind...is marriage, or even a steady girlfriend, I'm sure." The lights of Watertown came into sharp view as they reached the city limits. "Turn right at the stop sign. The restaurant is on the next block." Emma, growing uncomfortable with the conversation, was glad of a change of subject. Thinking long-term with Beau and Brandon wasn't the wisest thing to do.
Beau parked the truck, hopped out, and then came around to open her door. Such a gentleman.
She stepped out of the truck, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he pushed the door shut.
"Have I told you how nice you look?"
"No, you haven't, Mr. Tucker," she quipped, glancing up at him through her lashes.
"I could eat you up. You look fabulous in that pretty, figuring-hugging black dress," he murmured by her ear and then nipped at the lobe. "I can't wai
t to get you alone."
"Promise?"
"I'll promise anything if you keep lookin' at me with those sexy eyes."
"Be careful. You never know the things I might force you to promise if you give me the chance."
"Bring it on, babe."
The warm chuckle he punctuated his words with had desire sizzling across her skin. Was it only this morning we made love? Made love? No, had sex. She must think of it as having sex.
"What's the pretty blush for?" he asked, guiding her toward the hostess.
"Mmm. Wouldn't you like to know?"
The restaurant boasted a western motif, including old lanterns, antique washboards, signs, wagon wheels, and western tack hung from the walls and ceiling. Country music played softly from the overhead speakers and she absently wondered if they'd hear one of Brandon's songs while they were there.
Beau's lips brushed her neck, and he whispered, "I will extract payment for that little smartass comment, Miss Emma."
A thrill of fear followed by the zing of desire had her pussy throbbing to the increased rate of her heart. "I can't wait." Holy hell! Did I just say that? And what if Beau actually ties me to the bed? Or better, pulls me over his knee and spanks me?
He cleared his throat as they reached their booth, and he let her slide in before sitting down himself. Together, they only took up a small portion of the horseshoe-shaped bench. A quick glance at his cock before he took his seat revealed his erection pressing against the front of his jeans, and she had to hide her smile.
The waitress introduced herself and gave Beau several bold looks. Emma seethed with frustration and jealousy, although Beau acted the perfect gentleman, never once giving the waitress any encouragement. I can't believe we ran into her. I can't catch a break here. The one woman who hates me more than anything on this earth, and she has to be our waitress. I hope she doesn't poison my food or something, but I wouldn't put it past her to dump it into my lap—and all over a guy in high school.
Emma busied herself looking at the menu and pouted while she listened to Beau order a bottle of wine and an appetizer.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, sliding his fingers along the top of her hand.
"Yes, actually. I'm starvin'. I didn't get to eat much after breakfast at the diner, and there usually isn't time while we're servin' folks during the rodeo," she replied, folding the menu and placing it on the table.
"So what are you going to order? At your dad's the other night, you were a hearty eater."
"You noticed how I ate?"
"Sure. I like women who eat normal and don't pick at their food."
She laughed and picked up a peanut from the bucket on the table. Cracking it open with a loud pop, she stuffed the insides into her mouth and tossed the shell on the floor. "I don't think anyone ever said I picked at my food. I eat whatever is put in front of me usually. There isn't much I don't like."
He leaned in from his position next to her and whispered against her ear, "We didn't get to use the strawberries and whipped cream the kitchen sent up. I'd love to lick them off your breasts."
Her nipples drew into hard nubs, tingling and throbbing at his words.
"You like the sound of that, huh? Your nipples are hard just thinking about it."
His hard body blocked anyone from seeing what he did as his fingers plucked at the tip pressing against her dress. The ache of need grew to desperate proportions. The need to have his mouth on her exploded into heart-pounding, pussy creaming desire, and if he didn't knock it off, she'd ride his hips right here.
"Have you ever been tied spread-eagle on a bed?"
"No," she squeaked, imaging herself stretched out and open to his every whim. The mere thought ramped up her desire as she shifted on the seat.
"Open for me. Unable to stop me from doing anything to you I want to. Bringing you to orgasm multiple times with my mouth and tongue." The low growl of his sexy voice, punctuated by several small licks on her skin, and she was ready to do anything he wanted—anything.
Shit! He's killin' me here.
"Licking every inch of your incredible skin. Sucking on your nipples until they're pebble-hard. My cock is so hard for you, it's killin' me." The warm wetness of his tongue played with her earlobe. "Are you hot and wet, Emma?"
The answer eluded her. Her brain turned to mush the moment he'd mentioned spread-eagle on a bed. She couldn't think—could barely breathe beyond short gasps.
His hand snaked beneath the tablecloth and shimmied up her skirt to find her naked thigh. The urge to spread her legs and give him unbridled access rushed through her body, taking away any thoughts of denying him.
"Oh God." Her words came out in small pants as she struggled to pull enough air into her lungs to keep from passing out.
"Such a naughty girl, you are. No panties."
One finger brushed her clit, and she almost sank beneath the table.
"Do you want me to touch you, Emma?" he asked in a low purr that reverberated along her nerve-endings.
She whimpered and closed her eyes.
"I'll take that as a yes." Two fingers slid into her pussy. "You're so wet. God, you're driving me crazy."
Her head fell back against his shoulder, and she spread her thighs farther apart.
"Do you want me to make you come?"
"Here?" she whispered, while her pussy sucked at his fingers. A quick glance at the tables nearby revealed their seclusion and the sides of the booth were high enough, no one could see what naughtiness was transpiring within their little world.
"Do you think you can be quiet?"
"I don't…"
His thumb circled her clit, and his fingers continued to push in and out of her pussy. "Come for me, darlin'."
He covered her mouth as she came apart in his arms, stifling her cry of climax with his lips. Public exhibitionism wasn't her thing, but right now, she couldn't care less who knew she'd just climaxed because this gorgeous man had finger fucked her until she couldn't hold back.
Beau finally lifted his head, staring down at her with those fathomless brown eyes. "Better?"
With her breath still coming in sharp pants, she couldn't answer except to nod her head, eliciting a wicked smile from the man responsible.
"There's more where that came from."
"Can we leave now?"
"Impatient?"
"Hell yeah. Appetizers are great, but I'm lookin' for the whole meal."
His roar of laughter brought stares and frowns from some of the other patrons of the restaurant, but Emma frowned right back at them and then kissed Beau on the lips.
"I hope I don't have a wet spot on the back of my dress," she said, sneaking one of the napkins beneath the table to wipe the cream from her thighs and pussy.
"I'll walk behind you, just in case."
A quick glance revealed his wicked smirk had returned. "Right. You want to walk behind me to check out my ass."
"Somethin' wrong with lookin' at your fine ass?"
The waitress returned with their appetizer and all but threw the plate on the table with a loud bang. She shot Emma a scathing look, turned on her heel, and stomped away.
"I think she's a little pissed," Emma said, snagging a deep fried mushroom and dipping it into the ranch dressing. "God, I love these." She licked her fingers very slowly, teasing Beau. Two could fool around at this foreplay thing.
One dark masculine eyebrow shot up, and his eyes darkened to almost black.
"Horny, honey?"
"My dick is so hard, it would shatter if you put too much pressure on my zipper."
"Oh…let's see." She pressed her palm to his cock and sighed.
"Emma," he growled, grabbing her hand and pressing it harder against his dick.
"You made me come. I should give you the same consideration, Beau," she murmured, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. His cock sprang free, and he groaned low in his throat. "My, my. All this for me?"
"You know it is. I want to be buried in your sweet heat right now,
not coming in your hand."
"How about if I play a little?" she asked, running her fingernail down the length of his cock and back up.
"You're gonna pay for this later, Emma. I'm gonna torture you until you beg," he growled. The quick flick of his tongue over his lips gave away the tight rein of control he must be hoping to hold onto while she tortured him.
"Another promise? I'm likin' this." Wrapping her fingers around his cock, she did a slow slide up and down. "So smooth and hard at the same time." Her thumb spread the pre-cum from the tip of his penis around and around the head as she watched his face flush. She wanted to lick the thick salty liquid, but unless she ducked under the table, it would be impossible. The thought intrigued her.
The small lift of his hips toward her hand told her he barely hung onto his self-control, and she wanted to take it away from him so badly, she could taste it—and taste it she would.
* * * *
The little witch was going to kill him. Her warm palm caressed his cock slowly, rubbing, encircling, and grasping it until he thought he might die. He knew he probably deserved her torture after forcing her to climax in the middle of the restaurant, and he could tell she planned to pay him back in spades.
A wicked grin spread across her lips, and he knew he didn't stand a chance. One beautifully arched eyebrow cocked saucily at him before she disappeared beneath the table.
Aw, fuck!
Her warm mouth closed over the head of his cock, and he almost shot his load right there. Oh, she would pay for this later—no doubt about it—but right now, he savored her tongue swirling around his cock and the tight confines of her mouth when she sucked.
"Sir, can I get you anything else at the moment? Your dinner should be ready soon," the waitress said, glancing at the now empty booth.
"N-no." The high pitch squeak of his voice made him cringe. He cleared his throat to try again. "No. We're doin' fine, thanks." Emma sucked the head of his cock into her mouth and deep throated him. He fought the need to close his eyes while the waitress stood there staring at him. "Water. Yeah, water would be great."