Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders #5) - Page 9/54

Chassie’s whole body shook. Partially because she was so turned on, partially from the shock of having her ass hanging out in the cold winter air.

Trevor pressed behind her; his thighs cool, his thick sex still hot as it brushed over her bound wrists. Meaty hands squeezed her hips, then one slid between her hipbones and the coarse texture of his palm caused her belly to flutter. The fingers followed the cleft of her sex, straight through the curls to where she was sticky and aching.

He growled, “Baby, you’re already wet.”

She pumped her pelvis. “More.”

Trevor dipped his middle finger into the wetness and stroked her clit lightly, creating a slippery, tingly sensation. “Like this?”

“Faster.” He started a rub/swirl combo and Chassie knew she wouldn’t last long.

“Oh. That’s it.”

Without missing a stroke, he placed his mouth on her ear and sucked the air clean out.

It sent her over the brink, as he knew it would. A dizzy, whirling sensation fogged her brain; a continual pulsing cinched her pussy muscles, her ass cheeks, her nipples into one synchronized throb. She bowed back into the curve of Trevor’s neck and gasped at every delicious pulsation.

“Put your feet on my boots.”

Neither could adjust much, constricted by jeans shoved to their knees, but Chassie managed it.

Trevor swore. “Looks like I’m gonna hafta untie your hands after all. Brace yourself on that haybale, darlin’, ’cause I could fuck you right through it.”

The second the ropes were off, he maneuvered her over his coat, tilting her ass higher. Chassie placed her palms on the haybale and Trevor thrust hard and deep.

With her legs tightly trapped between his, he couldn’t pull all the way out. Trevor’s fingers found their way between her legs again. “One more.”

“I can’t, even when it feels—GOD, what was that?”

“Something new.” Trevor tapped her puffed up clit during a longer stroke. “I call it Trevor’s tantalizin’ tantric trick.” Two shallow thrusts, then a deep stroke as he tapped her clit.

She gasped. “You’ve never done this before.”

“Been savin’ this secret love technique for a special occasion.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

“Trevor!”

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

“It’s called circle of threes,” he panted.

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

Chassie’s heart and blood began to follow the rhythm.

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

“You’re gonna come like this, Chass, and you’re gonna come hard. Just feel, baby.

Let go of everything.”

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

Something shifted in the corner of the barn, stealing her attention from the tribal tattoo drumming throughout her body. She squinted at the dimness and saw him.

Edgard.

Heat suffused her face. How long had Edgard been there? Since she’d given Trevor a blowjob? Had it embarrassed him so he didn’t want to call attention to his presence?

Or had it turned him on so much that he didn’t want to leave?

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

Or maybe Edgard hoped to join in? Chassie knew her husband was no stranger to threesomes. She’d never experienced that type of kink, never been curious about trying it…until now. What would it feel like to have both men touching her body? Two sets of hands, two mouths, two cocks competing to make her scream with pleasure?

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

Her gaze dropped to Edgard’s midsection. Even in the muted light she saw his silver belt buckle hanging by his thigh and his jeans were undone. His right arm moved.

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stoke—tap.

Holy shit. Edgard was jerking off. Jerking off right in front of her. Jerking off to the rhythm Trevor had set.

Chassie couldn’t see Edgard’s face, just the lower half of his body. She realized he had a perfect view of Trevor’s hand between her legs and Trevor’s ass pumping against hers as he fucked her. A shiver rolled from her neck to her belly.

Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap. Thrust, thrust, stroke—tap.

Trevor growled, “I wanna take your ass like this. Pumpin’ into that tight little hole, drivin’ you crazy, bringin’ you off with my hand as I come deep inside you, feelin’ your muscles squeezin’ every drop from my cock.”

Chassie’s eyes wandered to the shadow in the corner when she heard a soft half gasp/half groan. Edgard’s fist made a slap slap slap sound and then stilled as ropes of come jetted out of the end of his cock and splatted to the dirt floor.

Trevor abandoned the tantric trick and pushed her at a deeper angle over the haybale as he fucked her like an animal and came with a roar.

The altered pace unleashed vibrations in her clit, her pussy, her nipples, and her anus. She literally sobbed, unable to breathe, to think, to move, wanting the sensations to stop. Wanting them never to stop.

Trevor murmured sweet words in her hair. He pulled out of her body and semen trickling down the inside of her leg brought her back to sanity.

When Chassie opened her eyes and looked to the shadows, Edgard was gone.

But he was far from forgotten.

Chapter Six

Trevor was standing by the fence, untangling a pile of ropes he’d unearthed in the horse trailer, when he heard the gate to the corral squeak open. He didn’t bother to turn around because he sensed who’d tracked him down.

Edgard.

Big surprise. How he’d managed not to be alone with the man for the last two weeks was a minor miracle. He automatically tensed when the plodding footsteps stopped behind him. “Something wrong with Meridian?”

“No. She’s fine.”

“Then whatcha need?”

“What the fuck is this?”

Trevor didn’t rise to the bait, as he hadn’t for the last several days. Calmly, he asked,

“What?”

“This.” Edgard threw the pristine, custom-made saddle on the ground within Trevor’s peripheral view.

Shit. How had Edgard found it? And why in the hell had that bastard gone snooping around instead of figuring out what was wrong with Meridian like he’d promised?

“Trev? I asked you a question.”

“You know damn good and well what it is, Ed.”

“I figured you would’ve gotten rid of it by now.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Edgard practically growled, “That don’t tell me why you still have it. That don’t tell me nothin’.”

Trevor turned his face toward the opposite fence to gaze across to the mountains. His reasons for keeping the saddle seemed sentimental, sloppy and stupid now, but he’d be damned if he’d share those reasons with anyone, least of all Edgard, the man responsible for those feelings.

Bootsteps made a sucking sound in the muck of the corral as Edgard closed the short distance between them. “I ain’t gonna drop it. Answer me.”

“Fine. You said I could do whatever I wanted with it. So I kept it.”

“You didn’t use it at all, did you?”

Trevor shook his head, keeping his eyes averted.

“Why not?”

“I have plenty of other saddles, saddles I like better.”

“That’s a piss-poor excuse. Try again.”

He stayed mum, wishing the damn mud would open up and swallow him like a sinkhole.

“Were you hoping if you kept it I’d come back?”

Trevor’s heart said yes but his mouth stayed tight as a rusty hinge.

“Answer the fucking question, Trevor.”

Edgard’s arrogant streak snapped Trevor’s forced patience. “What do you want me to say? It’s obvious I saved the goddamn saddle.”

“Why?”

“Because it reminded me of you, all right?” He kicked a chunk of mud and stalked away. “Fuck this and fuck you.”

Edgard rattled off something in Portuguese, something Trevor vaguely remembered as being a plea. Or was it a threat?

Dammit. His feet stopped. Trevor’s gaze zeroed in on Edgard, who’d circled him until they were standing less than a foot apart.

“Tell me why.”

Be cruel, that’ll nip this in the bud once and for all.

“I didn’t keep the fuckin’ thing because I had some girlish goddamn hope you’d come back lookin’ for it like Cinderella’s lost glass slipper, and we’d pick up where we left off after you left me.” He locked his eyes to the liquid heat in Edgard’s, not allowing the man to look away. “Especially after you made it crystal clear you weren’t ever comin’ back.”

Angry puffs of breath distorted the air between them.

Several beats passed before Edgard retorted, “But I am here now, aren’t I?”

“What? Am I supposed to be flippin’ cartwheels about that fact? I don’t know what you want from me, Ed. Take the saddle back if that’ll make you happy. I’ve got no use for it. I never did.” Angry, disgusted with himself, Edgard, and the whole uncomfortable situation, Trevor spun and walked toward the barn.

Edgard laughed—the taunting, soft laughter that was guaranteed to raise Trevor’s hackles and his ire. “It’s that easy for you? To get pissed off and walk away?”

“Yep. You’ve got no right to act so goddamned surprised since it’s a trick I learned from you, amigo.”