Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Mason and Brookes aren’t rushing me.
They’re courting me slowly, in their own gruff, cowboy way.
And I’m not sure how much longer my defenses can hold.
***
Thursday afternoon, I’m parked at a cattle ranch, waiting for the owner to bring out a limping steer.
Brookes: You working today?
Me: Yeah. Out at the Miller place. One of their steers has a bad hoof.
Brookes: Careful around those big bastards. You need us to come rescue you?
Me: I think I can handle one steer, cowboy.
Brookes: We know you can handle two bulls. Still like the idea of riding in to save you.
I bite my lip so hard I almost draw blood. Two.
A minute later, Mason jumps in on the group chat.
Mason: Tell the steer if he gives you any trouble, we’ll come brand his ass.
Me: You two are ridiculous.
Mason: Yeah, but you like it.
Brookes: She does. Don’t forget, Janey, we saw how wet you got when we teased you.
My face flames in the middle of a dusty ranch yard. I quickly lock my phone as the owner walks up.
***
Later that evening, I’m curled up on the couch with a cup of fragrant tea when the messages turn softer.
Mason: I’m bored. And my barn is complaining. There’s no Janey around to mess up the blankets and get straw in her hair. It’s jealous of Wade’s barn.
Brookes: He’s been unbearable since you left. Keeps walking past the barn like he’s hoping you’ll magically appear.
Me: I don’t go around frequenting barns, you know. Wade’s barn was a one-off. There will be no more barn shenanigans.
Mason: What are you even saying? If you were here, I’d put you over my knee.
Oh hell. Would I like that? If the surge of heat between my thighs is anything to go by, then the answer is yes. But no. This is flirting. Nothing's going to come of it.
Brookes: He would, Janey. But don’t worry. I’d kiss it all better.
I squeeze my thighs together, picturing exactly what they’ve described. We’re in their barn, or at least, my made-up version of their barn, and I’m naked while they’re fully dressed. I’m bent over Mason’s lap, my breasts hanging, and my ass in the air. My wrists are secured behind my back with a small piece of rough rope that chafes. Mason spanks me hard, and I yelp, but then Brookes is there to soothe my hurt with his warm hand and his soft kisses.
When I don’t respond for a while, Mason sends a perspiring emoji.
Mason: She’s imagining it, Brookes. And her sweet little pussy’s all wet and needy.
Me: I’m curled up on the couch reading. Nothing is wet and needy.
Brookes: Are you sure, sweetheart? Because we can help you out. All you have to do is ask.
Me: It was one night.
It seems like the right time to reiterate that fact. But they ignore me.
Mason: I can’t work you out, Janey. You look like sin, and fuck like a devil, but you talk like a good girl. It’s a dangerous combination, sweetheart.
I laugh despite myself, warmth blooming in my chest right alongside the low throb of arousal.
Brookes: Smooth, Mason. Real smooth.
Me: See? This is why I need quiet nights. You two are trouble.
Brookes: Guilty. But you handled trouble pretty well the other night.
Mason: Damn right she did.
Brookes: And she’ll handle it again sometime soon, won’t you, Janey?
I don’t answer, though.
Brookes replies a few minutes later with a photo. It’s a picture of their ranch house with the setting sun behind it, turning the whole place burnished orange. It’s worn in the same way that Wade and Caleb’s ranch is, and homier because of it.
Me: It’s beautiful.
Mason: He’s tempting you with a sunset. Is it working?
Brookes: The sunsets are beautiful here. That’s all I’m saying.
I walk to my window, trying to find my own sunset, but it must be hidden behind other houses.
Me: Sunsets are beautiful everywhere.
***
They send more photos avoiding anything X-rated, thank goodness. Unsolicited dick pics are gross, even when they have perfect dicks like the Fletcher brothers. Receiving one would result in an immediate block.
The cute ones of Mason holding up a tiny orphaned calf he’s bottle-feeding, and Brookes standing next to a new fence line he finished, sweat darkening his shirt, make me smile. They’re little glimpses into their lives that make them feel more real. Glimpses that feel familiar, and more dangerous.
When Mason sends a picture of his barn, accompanied by a sad face emoji, I spit my tea, I laugh so hard.
On Friday morning, I’m between appointments when my phone buzzes again.
Mason: Morning, pretty girl. You sleep okay?
Me: Eventually. Had a very vivid dream.
Mason: Yeah? Were we in it?
Me: I was in a house I didn’t recognize. It was huge. With sprawling rooms. Everything needed redecorating, and all I could think was that I couldn’t handle it.
Brookes: Yes, you could, Janey. If you can handle us, you can handle anything.