To Love Her Cowboys

by Laura Sutton

  Once inside, she leaned against her door, unsure of what to do with herself.

  “Meooow,” she heard from her feet, and Griselda was weaving her fury self between her ankles.

  Gwynn leaned down and scooped her up, and the cat instantly began to purr.

  “Well, Griselda, I feel like I might not be a virgin for long if what happened today at the pond is any sign.”

  In response, Griselda rubbed her head against Gwynn’s.

  “Come on, let me get you some lunch and make me a sandwich. I suddenly feel like I could write.”

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

  A few hours and three thousand words later, she looked at the clock and noticed it was five in the evening.

  Gwynn stood and stretched. The best thing about getting into a zone when she wrote was that it felt like she was unstoppable. The worst thing was that sitting in one place for so long was a killer on her back.

  “Ughhhh,” she groaned as she made her way to the shower. A nice, long, hot shower would ease her muscles and relax her for the evening.

  She was nervous. How do you tell two hot men who touched you and gave you the most intense orgasm of your life that you were still a virgin? Maybe she should bring it up during dinner. She could take a bit of potatoes and say, “Hey guys! Guess what! I’m still a virgin!”

  “Ughhh, you’re so dumb, Gwynn,” she muttered to herself, stepping under the hot spray.

  The shower felt good. She soaped her hair and rinsed, then she put a generous amount of conditioner in it. She’d always been very protective and vain about her hair. It was the one thing about herself that she felt was genuinely pretty.

  She began to soap her body and let her mind drift. She began to think about Dean and Jason. And their hands. They both hand such large hands, made rough by hard work on the ranch, and they felt so good on her skin.

  She brought her shower puff across her breasts and gasped at how sensitive and hard her nipples were just thinking about the two of them.

  Gwynn began to imagine Dean and Jason in the shower with her—Jason’s body pressed up against the front of her body the way he had been in the pond, with Dean behind her. Both of them were naked, wet, and touching her. Jason would soap her breasts, squeezing them and pinching her nipples.

  “Oh!” she gasped out loud as she tugged firmly on first her right nipple, then her left. It felt good, but not as good as it felt in the pond. She could picture Jason’s lips replacing his fingers on her breasts, his mouth sucking at her nipples and his teeth nibbling gently. She would run her fingers through his blonde hair as his mouth tortured her breasts, and his cock would be hard, pressing into her stomach.

  Dean would be behind her, kissing and biting her neck like he did today. She let her hands drift from her breasts, over her stomach, and down between her legs. Gwynn allowed her fingers to slide inside herself. “Ohhhh,” she moaned. She thought about how good Dean’s thick, long fingers felt inside her pussy today, how he fucked her with his fingers, how rough he was and how hard his cock was pressing into her ass.

  All she could think about while he buried his fingers deep inside her dripping cunt was how big and how hard he was, what it would feel like to have his cock fucking her instead of his fingers.

  “OHHHH!” she cried out, her hips moving as her fingers franticly moved in and out of her pussy. She used her thumb to brush over her clit. It was so engorged and swollen. She brushed it once, twice, and then on the third time, she shattered with a low groan leaning against the shower wall.

  She quickly rinsed her body, the water beginning to cool. She must have been thinking about the guys for over half an hour or more.

  She stepped out of the shower and headed to her bedroom, wrapped in her old, fluffy blue robe.

  She spent most of yesterday unpacking all her clothes, but she really didn’t bring anything nice, mostly comfortable leggings, baggy shirts, loose sweaters, and cardigans—none of which she wanted to wear tonight. She wanted to look good for tonight. As good as she could look, anyway.

  She found one of the few dresses she brought—a sleeveless black tank dress that hugged her breasts in what she thought was an alluring way, but it was loose around her stomach, which was decidedly not flat. In fact, it was soft and round.

  “Jason didn’t seem to mind my stomach today,” Gwynn muttered to herself, trying to give herself a little pep talk.

  She pulled the dress and a bright blue cardigan from the closet. She knew the color suited her eyes well.

  She went to her lingerie drawer, and there were even fewer options there. None of the undergarments she brought could be thought of as even remotely sexy. She had one white cotton bra decorated with little pink hearts and light pink lace along the cups, and she just happened to grab the panties that matched. They weren’t a thong or anything sexy, just serviceable white cotton decorated with the same little hearts and pink lace around the legs.

  She put on a little makeup, but not much because she wasn’t exactly skilled with a makeup brush, but she could handle a little eyeliner and mascara—to bring out her blue eyes—and a little glossy pink lipstick. Gwynn wanted to impress Jason and Dean before they found out she was a complete loser who had never had sex with anyone at the age of twenty-five.

  She blow-dried her hair, brushing it out until the long blonde waves shined. She dressed, slipped on her black ballet flats, because lord knew she couldn’t walk in heels, and she headed for the door to a dinner with both of her handsome men.

  Dean

  Dean was standing outside Gwynn’s door at exactly seven o’clock, as nervous as a high-schooler picking up his prom date.

  Something shifted earlier today at the pond, and it was scary and exciting even for a man like him. Being with Gwynn like that—sharing her with Jason—something about it felt complete. She was like a firecracker in their arms, so full of passion and lust, and she was so damn sexy. Everything about her lush, soft curves called to him like a siren over a vast ocean.

  He wanted to keep her and protect her and make her theirs forever, but that wouldn’t happen. In four months she would leave, off to conquer the word with her words. She was brilliant and entirely too good for this ranch, and too good for him and Jason.

  When they left the pond earlier that afternoon, he went back to the big house while Jason went to the grocery store for his weekly shopping trip, muttering about wanting to make a nice dinner for their girl. After his shower, he jumped on the internet and tried to find some of Gwynn’s writing, and he came across one of her blogs.

  She mainly focused on reviewing and critiquing fantasy and science fiction books and movies, but her words were articulate in a way he knew his could never be. He enjoyed movies and books as much as the next person, but he never thought about the whys and hows of things, like plot devices and themes. Reading her explanations, though, he realized why he liked that dragon movie, or why that superhero show ended in disappointment for him.

  He wouldn’t want to watch her passion and her light dim living here forever on this ranch out in the middle of nowhere, Texas. That is exactly what would happen, and she would eventually start to resent them, much like his mother resented him because she had him young and had to stay here with her parents to raise him after his dad left when he was three.

  He had his arm raised to knock on the door when Gwynn flung it open, obviously not expecting an escort up to the big house for dinner, and his breath caught in his throat. She looked stunning.

  Her hair seemed to glow in flowing waves around her head and down her back. The simple black dress showed off just enough of her beautiful breasts, and now that he knew exactly what they felt like in his hands, he couldn’t control his thoughts while looking at her cleavage.

  The skirt ended slightly above her knees, and while it was a modest length, it showed off just a bit of h
er pale, soft, thick thighs, and just the slight glimpse of them made his cock tighten at what it would feel like to be cradled between them while he fucked her hard.

  He brought his eyes up to her face and smiled at her blush. She was so sweet—all nervous, shy energy. Her eyes were wide and seemed impossibly bluer, their color reflecting the blue in her sweater.

  She smiled back at him nervously and bit her shiny pink lip, and he almost groaned at loud at the action. His cock instantly sprang to attention at her innocent display. He wanted to bite down on that lip, then he wanted those pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock.

  He held his hand out for her to take. “I am here to escort you to dinner. Our temperamental chef, Jason, wouldn’t let me in the kitchen, which is probably a good thing, honestly. I don’t know what exactly he is cooking, but the whole house smells delicious. I couldn’t get any paperwork done in the last hour or so because of it.”

  She took his hand, and they both seemed to relax when her skin touched his. Her warmth seeped into him, quieting his mind but making his heart race. He would never tire of touching her.

  Dean gave her a quick chaste kiss on the cheek and led her down the steps and to the house.

  “Well, good. I am starving, and I’m not much of a cook myself. I can handle breakfast if you like scrambled eggs, and I make decent spaghetti, but that’s about it. I mainly live on frozen diet food and sandwiches,” she said, their conversations becoming easier as she opened up more and more. He got the feeling that Gwynn didn’t trust many people, and that was okay because he didn’t either, and in truth, neither did Jason, but he was glad she was beginning to trust them.

  “Well then, it’s good you and I have Jason, or else we might starve,” he said, trying to keep the conversation light, but somehow his words were tinged with a permanency, and he was afraid he’d scared her off.

  He looked over at her to gauge her reaction, but he found her smiling—a small, almost wistful smile, and not at all scared.

  “Yes,” she whispered as they approached the front door to the big house, “I am very lucky.”

  She looked at him, and the look in her eyes was full of so much longing and desire that it made his heart clench. Maybe she wanted this as much as he and Jason did.

  Dean mentally shook his head. No, even if it was what she thought she wanted, she would come to resent it, resent them, and that he could not take.

  No, this would be an amazing interlude, the best four months of his life—probably Jason’s, too—and then she would go out and conquer the world without them.

  He brought her hand up to his face, their fingers interlaced, and kissed her hand.

  “Trust me, Gwynn. Jason and I are the lucky ones, and we know it,” he said as he ushered her inside, the aromas of dinner making both of their stomachs growl audibly.

  He could do this. So could Jason. They could enjoy these months with her and then let her go. At least he hoped he could, because he was sure he was rapidly falling in love with her.

  Jason

  Jason could hear them come through the door, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. This afternoon had been hot, and his entire body was thrumming with the anticipation of what tonight might hold for them.

  He wanted Gwynn. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to feel her cum on his cock. He wanted to watch her cum on Dean’s cock while her perfect soft hands stroked his cock to completion. He also wanted to fuck that sweet round ass of hers, but she seemed very innocent, and that may push it a bit too far, but a guy could dream.

  “Hey guys, it's in here!” he called from the dining area. The big house didn’t have a formal dining table, just a small round one that seated five comfortably. Jason laid out all the food—roasted chicken, cheddar mashed potatoes, and broccoli. Jason loved cooking. He blamed it on being raised in New Orleans with the abundance of wonderful food there.

  Usually when it was just himself and Dean, he didn’t go to this much trouble, but tonight he wanted to do something nice for Gwynn. He wanted her to feel welcomed and wanted. Heck, he had even made his grand-mère’s double chocolate cake for dessert, but the dessert Jason really wanted wasn’t cake. It was Gwynn.

  When Gwynn and Dean walked into the dining room, Jason just stared. She looked so good—all sexy innocence. He could tell she had tried to look nice for the evening, and it worked. Her dress hung and clung to her ample curves, and her face looked rosy and pretty. Her dark blue eyes stood out from her face even more than they usually did, and her lips looked moist and plump, begging to be kissed.

  He walked over to them and took her face in his hands. “I missed you,” he whispered and then kissed her, a quick but wet open-mouth kiss.

  Jason felt her melt against him, her large, full breasts pressed into his chest, and he thought tonight would be good. When they broke the kiss, Jason glanced over at Dean, and he could tell he was as excited for tonight as he was.

  “Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold!” Jason said, grasping her hand in his and pulling a slightly dazed Gwynn to sit down. “I even made dessert. I hope you like chocolate!” He smiled as her eyes grew big with excitement.

  “I love chocolate,” she admitted, somewhat bashfully. Jason figured she probably didn’t allow herself to indulge much, as women believed they needed to be skeleton-thin to attract a man. That had never worked for Jason or Dean. They both liked their women curvy and on the fuller side—plump and soft thighs, breasts, and stomachs. The kind of woman they wanted to hold at the end of a long day of work.

  “Did you make the cake?” Dean asked as he scooped some chicken onto Gwynn’s plate.

  “I did,” Jason affirmed as he set to making his own plate, pouring Gwynn a glass of wine.

  “Oh god, that cake is almost better than sex,” Dean said, groaning in anticipation. “Heck, it’s better than bad sex. I think you will like it.”

  Jason laughed. Dean had a sweet tooth and loved that cake. “You’ll have to tell us if it’s better than sex after you’ve tried it, Gwynn.”

  She suddenly looked very nervous and began playing with her fork instead of taking a second bite of food. Jason wondered what he said wrong, but he decided to let Gwynn work out whatever she was thinking.

  She laughed a little nervously, set her fork down, and took a large swallow of her white wine. Jason had pulled out the big guns tonight at dinner. He and Dean never drank wine with dinner. They were more fond of iced tea with dinner, and whiskey to relax afterward. He watched Gwynn drain her glass, then he calmly refilled it. The thought of sex seemed to make her nervous. He didn’t want her to get drunk. In fact, he knew that if she did, both he and Dean would put her to bed, and any fun bed play would have to wait. But he didn’t think she was trying to get drunk; she seemed to need courage for something.

  “About that…” Gwynn began nervously, her fingers playing with the stem of her wine glass.

  Jason took a bite of his food as nonchalantly as he could, hoping to put her mind at ease, but inside he was beginning to worry. Maybe they had scared her this afternoon, or maybe she had a boyfriend waiting. No, she said she was single. Didn’t she?

  Jason watched Dean slide his fingers into her hair and lightly massage the nape of her neck. Dean wasn’t usually one to offer comforting touches, but beneath his gruff exterior, Jason knew he was a giving, kind man.

  “What has you so scared, beautiful?” Dean asked, using the calm voice he often used to calm skittish horses.

  Jason smiled and lightly pulled her hand from her wine glass and brought her fingers up to his lips, gently kissing her skin and smiling at her soft sigh when he did.

  “Yes, baby girl, talk to us. Between the three of us, I’m sure there is not a problem we can’t fix.” His voice was low and rumbly—not as calming as Dean’s, he knew. But he wanted Gwynn to feel safe with both of them, if they were going to pursue what this was between the three of them, she needed to feel safe.

  She smiled at Jason and then Dean,
and she took a deep breath as if she was preparing for their judgment.

  “Well, I wouldn’t know what bad sex is, or even good sex for that matter,” she blurted, her voice soft and her eyes glued to the table.

  For a second, Jason was confused, but Dean was quicker than him, better at reading body language. It was the thing that made them such good business partners. Jason could charm, and Dean could read reactions.

  “Do you mean… you’ve never…?” Dean’s words trailed off, but his hand was still caressing her neck, and it suddenly dawned on Jason what she was trying to say.

  Her eyes never left the table, and then her soft words confirmed what he thought. “Yes, I’m a virgin.”