To Love Her Cowboys

by Laura Sutton

  She was smiling so fondly at the memory that Jason wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her forehead. He wanted to shake her stepfather’s hand. He enjoyed the way her face lit up when she talked about her work. She was so passionate when she talked about her writing that it made Jason wonder in what other ways he and Dean could bring out her passions. Again he was struck with a vision of her naked, sucking on his cock while Dean was pounding into her from behind. The image almost had him groaning out loud, making his jeans uncomfortably tight.

  The three of them rounded the back of the big house, and Gwynn let out a soft “Ohhh” as the carriage house came into view. It wasn’t a large house. It was square with large, arched windows on the upper floor, and the front door was a large double-door. The house was a lovely two-bedroom, but small in comparison to the big house where he and Dean lived.

  Jason held the door open and let Gwynn enter first.

  “Wow!” she said, looking at the front entryway that led to an open living room and a small chef’s kitchen.

  “This is even better than the pictures you sent me, Dean! I can’t believe you’re renting this so cheap!” she continued, excitement clear in her voice.

  They decorated the house in what some might say was a Texas style—leather furniture in the living room, high exposed beams, and a dark hardwood floor.

  The kitchen was light and breezy, painted the same sunny yellow as the big house (the exact same, actually. They used what they had left to paint the kitchen. Dean was a waste-not, want-not type of guy), with pale gray cabinets and white gauzy curtains.

  “Down here is your living room and kitchen, and there, off to the side, is a half bath,” Dean explained as Gwynn continued to turn in circles, taking it all in.

  Jason went to the counter and set the cat carrier down, then he turned and smiled at Gwynn. She looked so beautiful, the warm waning sun of the late afternoon pouring through the kitchen windows and making her skin glow. She looked like a goddess to Jason, her hair like a golden halo, her smile bright.

  “Let us help you get your bags upstairs, then maybe you can join Dean and me for dinner around seven-ish?” Jason asked, heading for the stairs.

  “Oh, you don’t have to. You guys have already done too much,” Gwynn protested.

  “Nonsense,” Dean interrupted. “These are heavy. My grandpa would tan my hide from Heaven if he knew I allowed a beautiful woman to carry her bags upstairs by herself.”

  Dean began heading up the stairs before she could tell him otherwise.

  Jason laughed at his best friend’s attempts at flirting and followed behind Gwynn. Dean fucked up going up the stairs first, because watching her lovely ass swing, even partially obstructed by her oversized sweater, from side to side as she ascended the staircase was the view of the century. He knew what he would think about that night in the shower as he touched himself.

  “So, there’re only three rooms up here—two bedrooms and a full bath. In your emails, you said it would just be you and Griselda,” Dean flashed Gwynn what Jason knew was his best smile. He wanted her just as bad as Jason did, it seemed. “Jason and I took the bedroom furniture out of the smaller bedroom and brought in a desk and some bookcases so you could have an office.”

  Jason had been annoyed when he and Dean were lugging out heavy bedroom furniture and lugging in an antique desk along with some even older and heavier bookcases. Why were they trying to impress some renter who would only be here for four months? But now it made sense, watching Gwynn’s face as she ran her fingers over the polished oak of a desk that was probably over a hundred years old, like it was the most precious jewel on the planet.

  “I don’t have words to express how nice this is. I may not want to leave at the end of the lease.” she told them, her blue eyes shining and a large smile lighting up her face.

  Jason smiled back and left her luggage by the bedroom door.

  “Well, we will leave you now and let you get settled, and you come on up to the big house for dinner at seven. And no, we won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” He told her before she could say it, and she smiled sheepishly.

  “Okay,” she said brightly. “Dinner at seven. See you then.”

  Jason winked at her, enjoying how red she flushed and wondering how far down under her clothes it went. He then headed down the stairs, Dean following close behind.

  Gwynn

  Gwynn woke to the morning sun streaming through the huge arched windows of her bedroom, a cacophony of birds singing their lovely song to her. Last night had been perhaps the best night of her life, followed by the most restful sleep she ever had.

  Despite her shyness, she showed for dinner at the big house at seven on the dot. The aromas coming from the kitchen made her stomach growl, the noise eliciting a soft chuckle from Dean as he ushered her into the house.

  The place was huge and grand, like something out of a Western. Large leather furniture was everywhere, and deer and other hunting trophies decorated the wall. The house was masculine and huge, just like the two men she was about to have dinner with.

  She had been a bundle of aroused nerves the entire time she was unpacking her bags before dinner. Gwynn knew she wasn’t well versed in the ways of flirting with men, but when both Jason and Dean looked at her, she almost felt like their eyes held interest—interest in her.

  By the time dinner had rolled around, she had convinced herself she was crazy, that there was no way one man as good looking as Dean or Jason would be interested in her, let alone two. But the flirting continued.

  The three of them sat around a small kitchen table, enjoying a divine meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green peas. Both men seemed to find excuses to touch her.

  Jason would pat her hand while he told her a funny story, and he had a lot of them. Most were about his early months on the ranch while he was learning all the skills it takes to be a cowboy. Dean would squeeze her shoulder when she would get shy, telling her his own lame stories from college, and he even once brushed her hair from her face when she laughed at his joke.

  “You have a wonderful smile and laugh. Never hide it from us, Gwynn,” he told her, the tip of his large rough finger lightly brushing her earlobe. She flushed instantly and looked down at her plate, unable to meet his gaze. But later, alone in her bed as she replayed the whole night, she focused on those words. Don’t hide your smile from us. He said “us” as if both he and Jason wanted her—not competing for her, but wanting her together. There was no way. That didn’t happen in real life. At least not to boring, bookish women like her.

  “Meow!” Griselda was letting her displeasure be known that it was past time to feed the queen, and that her slave had lounged around on her bed long enough.

  “Okay, okay, I’m up! I need coffee and toast anyway,” she told the annoyed cat as she threw the covers back and headed down the stairs, still in her pajamas—a pair of small cotton shorts and a tank top. She never wore a lot of clothes to bed. In fact, she thought many times about sleeping naked because she was always hot in her sleep, but she always decided against it. Gwynn just knew that the first time she did, her apartment would catch fire and some hunky fireman would have to see her naked, and he would laugh.

  She made her way to the kitchen and started some coffee. Yesterday she had been pleasantly surprised to find the kitchen stocked with some basics. There was a loaf of bread, orange juice, ham, cheese, butter, cream, sugar, salt, eggs, and oatmeal. She would have to go into town for her favorites, but this was more than enough to get her through a couple of days. Especially if she had dinner with the guys again, and they had already invited her to do so.

  She fed Griselda and waited for her toast. She would go out to eat her toast and drink her coffee on the front porch while she checked her emails. She had a few blogs she needed to finish, but today she planned on at least a solid four hours of novel-writing time. She was excited. Today was the first day of the rest of her life.

  The front porch wasn’t very large, but
it had two adorable chairs and bistro table on it. The perfect place to eat breakfast and watch the sun rise.

  She had just settled in and was nibbling on her toast, ready to respond to her first email, when she could hear a horse nicker. She was very close to the corral, as it sat off to the side and slightly behind the big house.

  She could see Dean working the same big gray horse he had been on yesterday. The horse was still wild. He was hopping around as if Dean was an unwanted fly on his back. She could she the powerful muscles of the horse twitch and clench under his skin as he tried to unseat Dean.

  Gwynn then focused her gaze on the man on the horse. Dean was dressed the way one would think a working cowboy would be dressed—blue jeans that hugged his thighs just enough so that Gwynn could see his powerful muscles as they grasped the flanks of the horse. His blue work shirt was already soaked through with sweat, clinging to the muscles on his back.

  She watched avidly, her coffee forgotten, as Dean and the horse fought for dominance. She could feel her heart begin to race as she watched Dean’s powerful body control the horse, and she couldn’t help but think about what it would be like for her body to be the one Dean was controlling, his large hands touching her in ways she had never been touched. She could feel her nipples pebble in her bra to hard little points. The image of his dark head at her breast, his lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking and gently biting down. Gwynn knew from touching herself that she liked her nipples played with a little roughly, and Dean looked like just the kind of man who knew how to ride that sensual line of pleasure and pain, and how to make something hurt so good.

  The horse nickered loudly and gave a violent buck, a desperate attempt to rid himself of Dean, but Dean remained atop the horse, his huge body bringing the horse under control, and Gwynn could tell the moment the horse gave in. The tension left the horse, and his movements were more fluid and less jerky, and again, Gwynn couldn’t help but think about Dean doing almost the same to her body, but he would bring her to the most amazing orgasm, a peak she would never be able to reach with her own fingers. But with his hands—rough from working on the ranch—and his mouth and teeth tugging at her nipples, she would cum so hard. Then there would be Jason behind her, kissing her neck to help soothe her as she came down from her orgasmic high.

  Gwynn’s eyes snapped open. They had slid shut during her daydream. She couldn’t be fantasizing about Dean and Jason together! It had to be wrong to want them both the way she did. Plus, she wasn’t the type of woman that was sexy or pretty enough to attract two men as strong and beautiful as Dean and Jason.

  God she was hot and sticky, and it wasn’t just from her fantasy. The heat of the midmorning Texas was showing itself. She pulled at her tank top and knew she would be getting no writing done like this—hot and full of unfulfilled sexual energy.

  Last night at dinner, Jason and Dean had told her about a pond not far behind the carriage house. They often used it for swimming and cooling off when the day got too hot. Gwynn stood and headed inside, thinking a dip in the pond for an hour or two might be just the thing she needed to cool down and help her mind focus more on work and not the two hunky cowboys who slept in a house not fifty yards away from where she slept.

  Jason

  It was barely noon and it was already hot, Jason thought as he took his cowboy hat off to rub his face with his bandana. It was the kind of heat that would probably break on a storm later. Spring in Texas meant late cold fronts and volatile storms.

  There wasn’t much work for him today. They spent last week herding the cattle and tagging and counting calves. This week would be spent gathering soil and grasses from different parts of the ranch to send in for yearly testing, but with Dean breaking in his new horse, Jason was at loose ends for the afternoon.

  He wondered what Gwynn was doing. Was she writing at her desk? Jason wondered what she wore when she wrote. Maybe she wrote naked, his mind supplied, but he dismissed that right away. She was a bit too reserved to write naked. No, she was probably up in her little office typing away in some cute shorts and a small tank top, with just enough fabric to cover her generous breasts. All of her soft curves would be on display, and he could imagine walking in and sliding up behind her, his lips running over the curve of her neck and his hands sliding down to cup her luscious breasts. He would test their weight in each of his palms and then gently pinch and tug on her nipples until he could see them tent the fabric of her top.

  Jason’s cock was hard and aching with his thoughts, and the heat was not helping his predicament at all. He decided a trip to the pond was needed. He wouldn’t even head to the house for trunks. He was close to the pond and could air-dry before putting his clothes back on.

  As he got closer, he could hear someone swimming. He knew it wasn’t Dean. He had just finished with the horse for the day and would need to brush him and cool him down properly before moving on to anything else.

  As the pond came into sight, he couldn’t believe his luck. It was Gwynn. He could see her dark blonde hair, an even darker shade because of the water, and her face tipped back toward the sun. She seemed so at ease, and she looked beautiful, like a water nymph from an ancient story.

  He began to disrobe quietly at the pond’s edge. He didn’t want to scare her or send her away. He wanted to swim with her and flirt, maybe steal a kiss or two. She was just so enticing—her curves, her brain, her passion. He wanted to know her. He knew she wouldn’t stay. She was meant for more than this ranch, this little piece of the world he and Dean had built, but he wanted to bask in her presence for as long as she stayed. He had removed his shirt and boots, and his jeans were around his ankles when he heard a loud voice.

  “Oh!” Gwynn shrieked.

  He looked up just in time to see she had turned away. Jason grinned and stepped out of his jeans and waded into the water close to her.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you. It’s just so damn hot!” he told her, his voice friendly and warm. He wanted her to want him to be there in the pond with her.

  “Not at all.” She smiled in response, but Jason noticed she couldn’t meet his gaze, and he didn’t think her blush was completely from the heat of the sun.

  He waded closer to her but didn’t reach out to touch her yet, even though his entire body was itching to feel her skin, slick and wet against his.

  “How is the writing going today?” Jason asked, genuinely interested. He had never met a writer before, and as an avid reader, it fascinated him.

  Her face fell a bit. “It’s not… at least not yet. I was eating breakfast thinking about some things.” At that, her face flushed a deep red, and Jason wondered what exactly she had been thinking about at breakfast. “And I got overly hot. I could’ve taken a shower, but I thought taking a swim in the pond would relax me and get my brain working.”

  He smiled at her, and she smiled back. She was just so sweet. He wanted to know her, to know her deepest thoughts and fears. He wanted her smiles and her blushes.

  “So, where did you go to college? Did you study writing?” he asked, hoping to get her talking like she did last night at dinner. When she talked, he could see the passion she hid behind her long hair and too-big clothes.

  “I went to the University of Texas. Mama only agreed because I got a full scholarship, and she thought college might be a good place for me to snag a husband. She always told me men don’t care for smart women. It hurts their egos, she would say.”

  She tucked a wet lock of her long hair behind her ear and chewed on her bottom lip, something Jason was learning she did when she talked about something that bothered her.

  “I didn’t find a husband, obviously, and I only ever had one boyfriend during my sophomore year, but I studied creative writing and journalism there. I loved every minute, even if I didn’t find a man.” She smiled shyly, and it made Jason’s heart clench and his cock throb.

  “Well, I know all about disappointing parents. My father is a very successful businessman in New Orleans,
and the Caster-Leighs have been in New Orleans pretty much since it was France. I am the first Caster-Leigh male to not graduate from LSU since it opened in 1860. I went for a year and decided I needed to be my own man and not live the life and marry the vapid socialite my father picked out for me. So, I quit school and joined the Army.”

  He flashed his best smile, trying to hide his own deep-seated family issues from her, but also wanting to share all his scars and faults and let her heal him. These were dangerous feelings he was having for a woman who would only be in his life for a short time.

  “And that’s where you and Dean met… the Army?” she asked, her body floating so close to his that he could feel the heat of her skin.

  “Yup! He was my sergeant. Saved my hide a few times.” Jason smiled then reached out and touched her. He tucked some hair behind her ear. It didn’t really need to be moved, but he felt like he would explode if he didn’t touch her.