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by Molly Ann Wishlade


  Would it be enough? Just to know that they were close. That she could see them, speak to them again. Better that than never to see them at all. After last night, she knew that never being able to bask in their joint light would render her as good as dead. She would wither and fade like a flower denied sunlight. To break the bonds that she was convinced had formed between the three of them would rip her heart right out.

  She had been moved by them, body, heart and mind, and she could easily imagine what a life with the two of them would be like. But it couldn’t be. They had a job to do and were answerable to Mr Jackman. She had to go meet Mr Jackman and explain herself to him. What would she do then? If he still wanted her, she guessed that she could go ahead and marry him. Might be better to get some stability into her life. It would probably be a dull life. She’d always know what she was missing out on. But would he want a lover, a soft warm body to share his bed? Her body which was now so aware of what a man and woman could do to one another would surely need that union. To once again become an island of isolation would be more than she could tolerate.

  In return for becoming his bride, she would have a roof over her head and food in her belly. More than a lot of folks out there.

  But not love. Not passion. Not Charlie or Etu.

  It was highly unlikely that she’d find Mr Jackman to be as attractive, as ardent and as inspiring as Charlie and Etu. But she had only straws to clutch now and it seemed like he was the final one.

  As if roused by her thoughts, Etu began to move his hand over her belly. His caress was soft and sweet. She lifted her top leg when he probed there and allowed him to slide it between her still wet silken folds. In the hazy light between night and day, she sighed as he touched her with a tenderness she’d only dreamt of. His ministrations carried her up to the peak of excitement and she hurtled over the edge, crying out and shuddering as her orgasm broke.

  “You two started without me?” Charlie mumbled as he moved his hand down to cover Etu’s.

  Two hands. Two men. Twice the love.

  Etu removed his hand and Charlie took over. As Etu cupped her breasts, Charlie rubbed her clitoris. Her breathing quickened and she pushed into his hand. These cowboys knew her body so well. In just one night they had learnt what she liked, what she wanted and what she needed.

  Charlie wriggled towards her.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me!”

  He plunged two fingers into her and flicked his thumb over her swollen bud. An orgasm even more powerful than the first one burst from her. She gripped his fingers in her depths and sighed as he exerted pressure on the sensitive place inside that led her body into delicious little aftershocks.

  “Thank you,” she gasped. “And good morning.”

  How could she exist without this?

  “Good morning, beautiful. Time to freshen up and eat I think.” Charlie broke her post-pleasure glow.

  He gently freed his arm from under her neck and got to his feet. His morning erection bounced in the faint light. She lay still, not wanting to move because as soon as she did, the night would be over. It would all be over.

  Etu held her so tightly that she sensed that he felt the same.

  “Etu.” Charlie returned from their saddle bags. “I’m gonna head down to the creek to get some water. You two rest up til I get back.” He winked then pulled on his clothes. Layla watched, her heart filling with sadness. It would be the last she saw of Charlie’s firm male body. The last she saw of his gorgeous thick cock. The last…

  Tears burnt her eyes and she blinked them away.

  When Charlie had disappeared through the trees, Etu ran his long fingers through her hair. He made her feel so cherished with his touch that emotion welled within her chest. It reached up and tightened around her throat, taunting her with the threat of the return of loneliness and isolation.

  “How do you feel, Layla?”

  She frowned. How could she explain it? Where to begin?

  “I’m…um…I uh…”

  “Do you have any regrets?” He kissed the back of her neck and ran a hand down her back and over her bottom.

  “Regrets?” She shook her head.

  Etu slipped his hand between her cheeks, delving into the wetness between her legs.

  “No,” she sighed. “No regrets. Just…ah…”

  He slipped a finger into her pussy and ran it around inside her. Her juices ran down over his finger, sliding over her thighs and between the cheeks of her bottom. She pushed against him, grinding her behind into his erection.

  She moaned as he plunged into her and they moved together. He slipped in and out of her warmth. He was tender and careful, as if aware that her labia were swollen and bruised from the night’s activities. She was intensely aware of how sore her pussy was yet the pleasure of being touched and made love to again was only intensified by the slight discomfort. Her body wanted more. Her heart wanted more. Her mind was crying out for more to help push the pain of their impending separation from her thoughts.

  “I want to see you, Layla,” he urged as he slid out of her then rolled onto his back.

  She turned and straddled him, easing his cock back inside her. At this new angle, he penetrated her deeply, his cock bumping against the entrance to her womb. It sent little shocks hurtling through her body, making her gasp with the pleasure-pain. He fondled her breasts and pinched her hard nipples. The way he looked at her filled her with delight and she feared never being looked at like that again.

  She rode him hard and fast, leaning over to watch as he slid in and out of her depths. His cock glistened with her juices and they ran down over the black curls at the base of his length. Her pussy lips were full, swollen and pink as they opened to take him. Etu’s hips rose up to meet her and they rocked together that way until Layla felt the waves of ecstasy break and she shuddered time after time after time.

  “Layla!” Etu’s eyes widened as he stiffened and pulled out of her quickly. She grabbed his erection and massaged it with him until he cried out, pulsing his hot, creamy seed over her belly and chestnut curls. As the intensity of his orgasm waned, his handsome face depicted a myriad of emotions. Layla wanted to hold him close and never let him go. The thought of losing him and Charlie now that she had found them hung over her like a hangman’s noose. It threatened to choke the life from her, slowly and painfully as she watched them disappear.

  When their breathing had slowed, Layla lay over Etu, gazing into his eyes. She rested her body upon his so that their skin met all along their fronts, then she smoothed the hair from his damp forehead.

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft and low.

  “This might sound…pathetic or even desperate…but this has been about the best night of my entire life.” She swallowed hard at the confession.

  Why had she just told him that?

  “Oh Layla…” He laughed, the sound reverberating below her chest as it pressed against his. “Mine too. You are lovely, incredible, enchanting. I have never met a woman like you.”

  He hugged her tightly and she laid her head on his chest, listening to the strong and steady beat of his heart. Wanting it to always be so.

  ****

  “Looks like you two need a wash.” Charlie’s voice broke the calm in the clearing. Layla looked up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the early-morning sunlight. It broke through the trees overhead, creating a dappled effect on the ground around them.

  Birdsong tinkled from above, a sound so cheering that it usually brought her simple joy. But now, it hurt to hear it, for it meant that day was upon them and she was facing the end of the most wonderful night of her life.

  Charlie stoked the fire and added more twigs then set three cans of beans into the embers at the edges. He set a pot of water on to heat for coffee and a small pan, which he stirred at intervals. Layla wondered how he could be so calm, so practical after what had happened. She wanted to run to him and pound her fists against his chest, to make a lasting impression. Did he not care
at all? Would he forget her as easily as a whore from the Gem saloon?

  She stifled a sob as she lay and watched him, her heart memorising his face, his form, his movements. She wanted always to remember this night, this morning. She would hold him and Etu safely in her foolish female heart.

  Etu stretched and yawned next to her. “Time to get up, pretty one.” He poked her in the ribs.

  “Hey!” She poked him back. Even in the face of such impending loss, he could make her smile.

  “Just saying.”

  “Etu.” Charlie beckoned to him.

  Etu got to his feet then walked over to Charlie. Layla watched his tight buttocks as he moved away. She would stare at his bottom all day if she could. But it wasn’t possible. She collapsed onto her back and stared up at the canopy of branches and leaves. The blanket fell from her breasts and the morning air raised tiny bumps all over her flesh but she didn’t care. She felt alive. Properly alive and awake. The spot the men had chosen as a camp was sheltered and peaceful. Their horses grazed nearby. Charlie had clearly chosen the location for its secluded position. He must know the area fairly well. As must Etu. Both were likely experienced trackers.

  Real men.

  She hadn’t stood a chance of escape. But how could she have known that Mr Jackman would send his men looking for her? She had been afraid and annoyed about it last night. Funny how it gladdened her heart now after she had experienced such a night.

  “Come on then.” Etu returned to her and pulled her to her feet. The blankets fell to the ground and she stood before him exposed. She registered that just twenty-four hours ago the thought of being naked in front of two men would have seemed preposterous but now…it felt right. She loved being naked with Charlie and Etu. Her nipples tightened as she observed the two sets of eyes now appraising her flesh. If she ever had the opportunity to be with the two men and to share in their lives and their love, she would want to be permanently naked. Her stomach flipped at the thought. But it couldn’t happen. It was a foolish dream. All of the pleasure had addled her brain.

  Etu pointed at her lower half. Her belly and thighs were sticky with the combined juices of their lovemaking. “You need a wash, missy.”

  She giggled. “I guess I do.”

  He led her closer to the fire where he removed the small pan. Charlie handed him a saddle bag and he reached inside and pulled out a bar of soap.

  “You guys think of everything.” Layla smiled. But deep inside she wondered what they were thinking now. Did they too dread the thought of saying goodbye to her? Or were they going through a regular routine which would leave no scars upon their hearts or minds at all? Would Layla Powell soon be a distant memory as they handed her over to their boss or returned her to Deadwood, resigned to a life as hollow as an empty barrel? She wrapped her arms around her middle and dug her fingernails into her sides. Physical pain was nothing to the mental torment she was steeling herself to experience.

  “Hold your hair out of the way,” Etu ordered.

  She released her waist and pulled her hair up with both hands then held it on top of her head. The movement made her breasts swing and Etu let out a groan. He leant forwards and gave her pussy a swift lick. She gasped and reached for his head but he swiped her hands away. “Uh uh…You hold up your hair and behave, woman.” He wagged a finger at her.

  She pouted but acquiesced. She was overwhelmed by how aroused she was by these two other human beings. In just one night they had stirred her and roused her. It had been a total awakening for her. But now she wanted more and more. She never wanted it to end.

  Etu cupped his hands into the pan then splashed warm water all over Layla’s body. It ran down her flesh in thin trails, hot at first but quickly cooling in the morning breeze. Every inch of her body was so sensitive that Layla felt like just a drop of water trickling between her thighs could trigger another explosion.

  When her skin was wet all over, he began to soap her. Charlie watched from his position at the fire and Layla could see from his eyes that he was highly aroused by the show. Etu ran his agile fingers over every part of Layla. He soaped her from her toes to her chin, rubbing the sweetly fragranced herbal bar in circular motions until she was covered in a thick white foam. She relaxed under his touch, savouring the pampering and saving each detail of his tenderness so that she could remember it later. Never had she been so cherished, so adored.

  Etu spent extra time soaping her breasts and between her legs. At first, he lathered her pussy lips around the outsides but avoided slipping between them. The sensation drove her wild and she moved with his hands, desperately trying to make them slip so that he would touch her ultimate pleasure point. When he finally ceased his teasing, Layla came twice as he washed her pussy and bottom, his insistent massaging of her clitoris with his soapy fingers was just too exciting for her already aroused bud. She just couldn’t help herself.

  Like she couldn’t help herself wishing for more.

  When Etu seemed satisfied that he had soaped her all over, he used a pewter mug to pour water over the suds. He cleansed away the soap until she was flesh-coloured again then he patted her dry with a cloth he’d warmed on a log by the fire. Her skin tingled and she felt fresh and clean.

  “All done.” He kissed her cheek. “Like nothing ever happened.”

  Layla was suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. It threatened to burst from her in a torrent of pain like a flash flood breaking out of a canyon.

  Like nothing ever happened.

  She hung her head and released her hair, allowing it to tumble over her face. She gasped as she tried to stem the flow of tears but it was just too much. She couldn’t hide her feelings any longer. Charlie and Etu had opened a part of her that she’d tried to shut down and she couldn’t hide from it. She was staring right into the face of loneliness once more. But now she knew what could have been.

  It was worse.

  Charlie’s arms were around her suddenly and she slumped, still naked, against his chest. She sobbed into his shirtfront, gripping the well-worn material between her fingers as if she feared she’d collapse if she let go.

  “Layla…Layla…Hush now!” Charlie hugged her to him and rubbed her back. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

  She felt Etu behind her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and pressing his face into her hair. Between them she felt safe. She felt wanted. She felt cared for. But she knew that when they let her go she would never feel that way again. She sobbed harder.

  Charlie scooped her up in his strong arms and walked over to the tree he’d tied her to just hours before. He sat with his back against it and her on his lap. Etu sat beside them, taking Layla’s feet in his hands.

  When she felt that she could speak she took a deep trembling breath. This was so difficult.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “What for?” Charlie frowned.

  “For getting all female and emotional on ya.” She smiled but her throat ached. Her sadness was choking her, drowning her, crushing her. She could see no escape from the grief that lay ahead.

  “But what’s wrong?” Charlie pushed her hair back from her face. “What’s upsetting you?”

  “I’m afraid…” Layla hung her head.

  “Of what? Not of Mr Jackman?” Etu squeezed her toes.

  She shook her head.

  “Then what?” Charlie asked.

  “I…” Should she tell them the truth? What if they laughed at her? Perhaps they had just used her for an evening’s entertainment and had no further interest in her. But they had both been so tender, so caring. Etu’s bathing of her just then had been the sweetest thing she’d ever experienced. It had, of course, been all the sweeter because Charlie was looking on with a tell-tale bulge in his trousers. But telling them meant surrendering to their will, to their judgement, to their mercy.

  She realised that she needed their mercy. “I…have never felt like this before.” Brutally honest, she laid herself before them with everything that she was a
nd everything that she had to give.

  Charlie sighed and she felt him stiffen.

  Had she said the wrong thing?

  “Well, Layla.” He gazed into her eyes. “I know that I haven’t either…not about a woman anyways.” He smiled at Etu. “And I’m pretty sure Etu never has.”

  “You’re right, Charlie.” Etu nodded.

  “But?” Layla asked. There had to be a but.

  “But this situation is a bit complicated.”

  “I know!” she moaned as fresh tears filled her eyes. They had gone looking for her to return her to their boss. Jobs weren’t easy to come by. Even if they had wanted to, she knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep her for themselves and risk losing their employment.

  “Complicated, sweetheart.” He tipped her chin with a finger. “Not impossible.”

  “Whadda ya mean?” She frowned. Hope swelled in her gut like a bowl full of oats. She pushed herself upright on his lap and the blanket slipped from her shoulders.

  “Layla.” Charlie’s voice was husky as he stared at her exposed breasts. “Best cover yourself for a minute. I can’t concentrate when I can see them.”

  “Oh!” Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. She pulled the blanket over her chest, fighting the urge to push them into his face so that he would suckle them again. Did she have that much of an effect upon him?

  “What I mean is that…well…Etu and I. We really like you. More than like you.”

  “But you have to take me back to Mr Jackman?” she pouted. Damn Mr Jackman, his letters and his money! But then, if it hadn’t been for Mr Jackman, Charlie and Etu would never have come looking for her and last night would never have happened. And she wouldn’t trade last night for anything at all.

  “Well yeah…” Charlie ran a hand through his thick dark hair. “Mr Jackman is keen to meet ya. He wants to know why you reneged on your word.”

  Her blood surged through her ears and Layla closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her self-control. She didn’t know how keen she was on meeting Mr Jackman now. How could she look him in the eye after what she’d done? How could she look him in the eye without giving away something about last night and the joy she had felt? Surely, such emotions would be impossible to hide?

 

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