Betting on Grace (12 page)

Grant wasn’t far behind, but before Grant could get on
the bed with Gracie, Lane turned, pulling the man flush against him. With
blinding speed, he cupped the back of Grant’s head and drew him close, crushing
their mouths together as he slid his tongue past the seam of Grant’s lips.

A deep groan escaped — from whom, Lane wasn’t sure —
but the sound charged the air in the room, making him all the more desperate to
get on with it. Reluctantly, he pulled back from Grant, using his thumb to
brush along Grant’s bottom lip as he watched him. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get
enough of you,” he whispered.

Grant’s eyes flared, sending a torrent of heat
coursing through Lane. He loved catching the man off guard, as he had just
then.

“Uh, hello? Remember me? Cowgirl waiting here.”

Lane chuckled at Gracie’s outburst as he turned to
face her.

“Trust me, love, no one could
ever
forget about
you.”

Lane crawled onto the bed, situating himself between
Gracie’s thighs as he stared down at her.

Before he could lean in for a kiss, she was holding
out two condoms.

“What? Do you keep these on you at all times?” Lane
laughed as he retrieved them from her and pushed back so that he was kneeling.

“Just being proactive.”

Grant joined them on the bed, but he didn’t reach for
one of the condoms. Instead, he hauled Gracie to him, rolling them over until
Grant was on his back and Gracie was lying atop him, their mouths uniting
instantly.

Grant’s hand slipped into Gracie’s hair, tugging at
the ponytail holder until he managed to free the long strands from the confining
elastic. With a quick toss, he got rid of the holder, never breaking the kiss.
Lane was content to watch while he donned the condom, enjoying the sight of his
two lovers making out on the bed.

This was, without a doubt, the hottest relationship
he’d ever been in. No matter what time of day it was, or if they’d just been
together moments before, as was the case tonight, it was as though they
couldn’t get enough of one another. And the proof was in the steel-hard
erection he was now rubbing as he continued to admire Grant and Gracie.

“What’re you waitin’ for?” Gracie called over her
shoulder as she peeked back at him.

Before Lane could answer, he made eye contact with
Grant and, without a word being spoken, he knew what the other man was
suggesting with a mere look.

Ho-o-o-oly fuck
.

Glancing down at the second condom in his hand, Lane
got to work, ripping the foil open before kneeling on the bed between Grant’s
and Gracie’s legs. As his body temperature skyrocketed, he rolled the condom
over Grant’s thick erection, not bothering to tease him in the process. There
wasn’t time for that. Lane wasn’t sure he’d last if he were to drag this out
any longer.

Just the thought of sliding into Gracie’s hot, tight…

“What are you doing?” Gracie asked, her voice a meager
whisper when Grant reached between them and aligned his cock with Gracie’s
entrance.

“Burying myself in your sweet pussy,” Grant answered
simply.

Gracie moaned as Lane watched Grant penetrate her, the
head of Grant’s cock disappearing inside her.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Lane said, surprised that the
words had actually slipped out. He’d been thinking them but hadn’t actually
meant to say them aloud. That’s what these two did to him, they made him lose
track of what he was supposed to be doing.

“Lean on me,” Grant instructed Gracie, pulling her
toward him until they were flush against one another. “Oh, hell, that feels
good.”

Lane could imagine Gracie’s inner muscles locking
around Grant’s dick, tightening, squeezing.

Oh, yeah.

“We want to take you at the same time,” Grant said,
his mouth hovering alongside Gracie’s ear, his eyes locked with Lane’s.

Lane’s eyes darted to Gracie, trying to catch her
reaction, waiting to see if she’d panic. They hadn’t done this before. No
double penetration for them yet. And holy hell, he wasn’t sure they were going
to get through this round, either, before his head fucking exploded off his
body.

Gracie’s head rotated to the side, Lane’s eyes meeting
her sidelong glance as she peered back at him over her shoulder. He could see
the concern in her beautiful eyes, but that was masked by the heat he could
feel radiating from her.

“I’m game,” she said, clearly her verbal permission
for Lane to proceed.

And that was exactly what he needed.

“But you have to promise to be easy,” she tacked on,
her voice not as steady as he would’ve liked.

“Always, baby,” he said reassuringly, leaning forward
so that he could brush her mouth with his lips. “We’d never do anything to hurt
you.”

Lane was pretty damn positive he was going to bite his
tongue clean off because a few moments later, after fingering Gracie’s asshole
with one finger, then two, his dick was aching with a desperation that
surprised him. After gently prepping Gracie to take him, Lane lubed his cock
and aligned with Gracie’s tiny puckered hole, doing his damnedest to restrain
himself from lodging deep in her ass the way he usually did with Grant’s.

But he couldn’t. And he didn’t.

The amount of effort required to hold back should’ve
earned him a prize, but a short time later, Lane was sweating and panting as
Gracie’s tight ass gripped him.

But he wasn’t the only one breathing hard.

Gracie was tense, her muscles locked as she rested
between them.

“Relax, baby,” Lane muttered as he leaned forward, the
head of his dick sliding past the tight ring of muscles in her ass. Lane slid
his hand over her warm thigh, caressing her gently. Her skin was so soft, so
smooth. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, inhaling
the sweet scent of her hair. She smelled like lavender and vanilla.

“Easier said than done,” she said through clenched
teeth.

Grant’s hand came up and slid into Gracie’s hair again
as the man pulled her to him, the deafening silence replaced by the sound of
mouths mating, tongues dueling. Lane remained motionless, his thigh muscles
burning from the effort until Gracie began rocking on Grant’s cock, effectively
taking Lane deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” Lane growled softly, gripping Gracie’s hip
with one hand. “So fucking tight.”

Time passed slowly as Lane tried not to move, holding
his breath until he felt Gracie’s body loosen, allowing her to impale herself
on his dick.

“I need more,” Gracie pleaded, beginning to rock in
earnest before Lane got his ass in gear.

Grant didn’t help Lane’s precarious state when he
began thrusting up from beneath her. It was then that Lane feared he was going
to lose it before he ever really got started; the pressure of Grant’s dick
sliding against his own inside Gracie made Lane’s head spin.

Rather than be the one left behind, Lane slowly
withdrew from Gracie’s ass, sliding back in slowly. He continued the
painstaking pace, forcing them to slow down while he did.

“Oh, God, fuck me. Both of you!” Gracie screamed, her
fingers digging into the comforter as she pressed against Grant’s chest. “Fuck
me hard!”

Lane was hesitant, but that only lasted a few seconds
before he was sliding out and back in, picking up his pace, feeling the
iron-hard length of Grant’s erection against his dick, deep inside Gracie. The
thought of them both filling her at the same time was nearly enough to send him
spiraling out of control.

“Oh, yes,” Grant groaned. “Your pussy’s so fucking
tight, darlin’. I can feel Lane. Feel his cock gliding against mine. So good.”

Lane ignored Grant’s rambling as he focused on
bringing them all to the edge, fucking Gracie’s ass now with deep, hard
thrusts, rocking her on Grant’s dick. He didn’t stop as sweat beaded on his
forehead, his breaths soughing in and out of his lungs as though he’d just
finished a strenuous workout.

“Don’t stop, Lane. Please don’t stop. Fuck me harder.
Harder. Oh, God. I’m gonna come,” Gracie cried out.

And just as he expected, Gracie’s ass gripped him
impossibly tight, milking his release from him without warning. As the pleasure
accosted him, Lane only hoped that Grant was going to follow because Lane was
at the point that Gracie was controlling his reaction, sending him barreling
over the edge.

“Fuck yes!” Grant yelled.

Well, that answered that question. Grant came with a
heavy groan, his legs stiffening as he rammed up into Gracie one final time.

Good thing, too, because Lane didn’t have the strength
to do anything more than come.

Grace wasn’t quite sure how she felt about what had just
happened. Her body was battered from the brutal intrusions but in the most
delicious way. Quite possibly, she had never come that hard in her entire life.
As a tiny tremor ran through her body at the memories, Grace closed her eyes
briefly.

Double penetration? It wasn’t something she had ever
considered doing, yet in the heat of the moment, she’d wanted to be as close to
Grant and Lane as she possibly could, and, well … part of her was on the fence
about whether or not she enjoyed it; the other part was begging her to try
again, because, well, hell, she was still reeling from the incredible feeling
of having both men filling her.

Then again, just being with both of them, there wasn’t
anything better than that.

“Are you okay?” Lane asked softly, pulling Grace
closer to his warm body, nuzzling his face into her neck, the stubble on his
jaw abrading her skin in the most sensual of ways.

Grace thought about Lane’s question, trying to figure
out the best way to answer. Then it came to her. “Yeah, I’m … perfect,” she
whispered honestly. “That was… That was amazing.” Placing her arm over his
where he was holding her against him, Grace snuggled into his warmth, relishing
the time they had together. She wished this was a more frequent thing, wished
she could spend every single night with them.

Lane chuckled gruffly, the sound reverberating against
her ear.

“What about Grant?” Grace asked. “Do you think he’s
all right?”

“If you’re referring to the sex, I think he’s
fantastic,” Lane offered.

Grace nudged him with her elbow. “You know that’s not
what I’m talking about.”

There was no doubt in her mind that Grant had enjoyed
what had just happened. But she was referring to his mood.

“I think he’s still having issues with his dad,” Lane
said. “He needs to talk about it.”

“Did he say that?” Grace couldn’t see Grant as the
type of guy to admit when he had something on his mind, let alone mention that
he wanted to chat.

“Are you kidding? Grant? Open up? Not in this
lifetime.”

As though they’d summoned him with their muffled
conversation, Grant wandered back into the bedroom, still gloriously naked, his
hair wet from the quick shower he’d taken.

“My turn,” Lane muttered, releasing Grace from the
safety of his arms.

Grace looked up at Grant, who seemed to be studying
the two of them. She couldn’t even begin to place the expression on his face.
He looked a little out of sorts.

She offered him a smile and patted the bed, signaling
for him to join her.

Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate before crawling into
the big bed that was crammed into the small room. He wrenched the blankets up
over them both as he nudged her onto her opposite side, snuggling up against
her back, holding her close. Grace repositioned herself so that her head was
resting on his bicep, sliding her foot between his legs behind her.

“Want to talk about it?” Grace asked softly, enjoying
the feel of Grant’s body heat against her back, the warmth of his breath
against her ear.

“Talk about
what
?” Grant responded quietly,
just as she’d known he would.

“Don’t play dumb with me, cowboy. I know something
happened with your dad this week.”

Grant sighed deeply, but he didn’t respond.

The creak and thump of the pipes from the shower
turning on were the only sounds filtering through the dark bedroom, aside from
Grant’s even breathing.

“I went to see my dad on Monday,” Grant finally said,
making Grace’s heart leap with joy. Not because he’d gone to see his father but
because he was opening up to her.

She knew that his father was the reason Grant had been
avoiding everyone for the last couple of days. Try as she might, Grace hadn’t
been able to spend enough time with Grant to dig into the details until
tonight. However, from what she’d heard, she knew that Grant’s brief escape
from the ranch hadn’t gone well. There weren’t many occasions when he took time
off to do personal things, so when she had heard that he’d skipped out for a
couple of hours, she’d known it had to be important.

“Everything okay with him?” she asked, encouraging him
to keep talking.

The shower water turned off, and Grant glanced over at
the door before he said, “Nothing is ever okay with him.”

“Talk to me,” she murmured, sliding her hand over his,
linking their fingers together.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Grant said brusquely,
his tone letting her know he was incredibly frustrated with the subject.

“I get that. But you see,” she told him as she squeezed
his hand, “that’s part of the whole relationship thing. It ain’t just about
sex.”

“What about sex?” Lane asked as he made his way back
into the room and around to the opposite side of the bed from where Grant was
lying, the side Grace was facing.

“We weren’t talkin’ about sex,” Grant proclaimed with
a rough chuckle.

“What were you talkin’ about then? Gracie mentioned
sex. Why can’t we talk about sex?” Lane asked humorously as he eased into the
bed, this time on his back, his big, warm hand landing on Grace’s hip.

“My dad,” Grant admitted, surprising Grace.

Rather than push him to keep going right away, Grace
settled against him, giving his hand another gentle squeeze.

She loved the differences between Grant and Lane.
Although the two men were roughly the same height, that was about the only
similarity between the two. Unless you counted their scruffy, dark hair and the
deep, rich sound of their voices. But even that was different. Grant’s voice
was rough, like he’d been a smoker for most of his life although she knew that
wasn’t the case. And Lane… His voice was smooth. Just like the words he spoke.

“What did your father want?” Lane asked, breaking the
silence as he slid his other hand beneath his head, peering over at them.

“Money,” Grant admitted.

“For?” Lane’s encouragement was welcome because Grace
wanted Grant to continue, but she didn’t want to pry the details out of him.

Although she would if she had to.

“I think he’s gambling again,” Grant whispered softly,
his arms tightening around Grace.

She snuggled closer to Grant, and Lane followed suit, turning
onto his side to face them, his arm snaking over her hip, his hand resting on
Grant’s leg.

“Actually, I
know
he’s gambling again. I prayed
that he wouldn’t go there, but it looks like he has. He told me he was laid off
from the auto parts store he’s been workin’ at for the last eight or so years.
I took that to mean he was fired, even before he admitted it. The town’s too
small for them to have laid him off for no reason. My dad was one of only two
employees there.

“Anyway. He asked me to stop by, so I did. When I got
there, the house was a mess, the TVs had all been hocked, and my dad was
sitting at the kitchen table placing bets.”

“What does he bet on?” Grace asked, knowing that it
wasn’t exactly the point of the story, but she was curious.

“Horses.”

Crap.

That wasn’t good.

It probably didn’t help that right now the ranch was
all excited about the upcoming race between Mercy and Jerry. The wranglers were
even placing bets.

“If it weren't for the fact that the trailer they live
in is paid for, I’d bet my father would be looking for a place to live on top
of it all. I’m sure the water and electricity will probably be cut off soon.”

“What about your mom?” Lane asked when Grant was quiet
for a second. “What does she have to say about it?”

“No idea. She wasn’t there. My dad said she left.”

“Like, for good?” Grace asked, her concern steadily
growing as the story went on.

“Don’t know. Dad didn’t seem all that concerned. He
was more interested in asking me for money. I’ve tried to call her several
times, but she’s not answering.”

“I take it he wasn’t asking for money so he could pay
the utility bills,” Lane added.

“Not a chance. I’m sure he’s got some grand scheme to
make millions on the horse races.”

“Is there anything we can do? I mean, you know, to
help him?” Grace asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything
anyone
can do.
Not until he wants to get help,” Grant said, sounding defeated.

At that point, no one spoke for several minutes.

“I really need to go,” Grace finally said as her eyes
grew heavy, not wanting to move from the comfort of these men’s arms but
knowing that the last thing she needed was to be seen sneaking out of Grant’s
cabin in the wee hours of the morning. As it was, she was going to risk being
seen in the middle of the night, but chances were no one else was out and about
at this point.

“God, I wish you didn’t have to,” Grant said,
tightening his hold on her again and pressing his face against her neck. “I
wish neither of you had to go.”

Yeah, well … Grace was content about so much, but
solving that little dilemma — the dating two cowboys her father had sworn away
from her part — didn’t look like it was going to be all that easy.

■□■□■□■□

Grant kissed Lane and Gracie good-bye a short while
later and watched them as they slipped out through his front door and into the
night. They’d actually had a conversation about who would go first, but the
final decision was that they would both leave together. Gracie insisted that no
one would think that the three of them had something going on if she and Lane
went together, versus if they left one at a time. According to her, that would
probably look a little more suspicious.

As Lane had passed him toward the door, he had
whispered, “I’m not gonna do the walk of shame forever.” That made Grant laugh,
although he knew Lane was partially serious about it. He didn’t bother to tell
Lane that he didn’t want him to go. That he never wanted either of them to
leave. Right now, Grant had too much on his mind to get into a deep
conversation such as that one, so he’d merely smiled at Lane’s statement and
kissed him briefly before watching them both go.

Making his way back to his bedroom, Grant caught sight
of his cell phone sitting on the kitchen table just inside the front door. The
tiny blue light was flashing, a glaring announcement that there were more
messages awaiting him. Rather than push them off until morning, Grant snatched
the phone up and carried it to his bedroom, debating as to whether he wanted to
end up having a bad night or push it off for a few more hours, guaranteeing
he’d have four shitty days in a row.

Yeah, fuck tomorrow. He wasn’t going to keep dealing
with this shit every damn day, so he might as well get it out of the way
tonight.

Bringing the screen to life, Grant saw that he had
seven new text messages. All from his father.

Message 1, 8:27 p.m.:
Son, I’m sorry for all the
things I said. Give me a call. Please.

Message 2, 9:16 p.m.:
Damn it, Grant, don’t you
fucking ignore me.

Message 3, 9:28 p.m.:
Son of a bitch, boy. I don’t
ask you for much, now do I? I don’t like the fact that you can’t even give me a
fucking call.

Message 4, 10:19 p.m.:
Keep it up and I’ll just
come out to the ranch to talk to you.

Oh, fuck.
That
one got Grant’s attention. His father had been out to the ranch before, and
Grant remembered how fucking awful that had been.

Message 5, 10:37 p.m.:
I’m not kidding. I’ll come
out there and have a chat with your boss. I’ll let him know what a worthless
son of a bitch you really are.

He would do it, too. Grant knew that for a fact.

Message 6, 10:43 p.m.:
Last chance. Call me back or
I’ll be on your doorstep first thing in the morning.

Grant noticed the time of the final message, less than
three minutes from the one before. He didn’t even need to read it to know what
it said.

Message 7, 10:45 p.m.:
Done. I’ll be there with
fucking bells on in the morning. If you don’t think I will, try me. I need some
goddamned money, Grant. Just a fucking loan. I know you’ve got enough to lend
me a couple thousand. Do that and I’ll never bother you again.

A couple thousand? Holy shit. Was his father serious?

Grant might have some money saved, but he damn sure
didn’t have a couple thousand dollars to loan his father. Not that he would
even if he did. It would be one thing for Grant to pay the bills, make sure his
parents had electricity and water, which he was considering doing anyway, but
to give his father money to throw away on his gambling habit, no fucking thank
you.

Tilting his head to the side, Grant observed the
bright red numbers on his alarm clock. Shit. It was already after midnight. His
father was probably passed out drunk at this point, so Grant knew better than
to try to call him. He also didn’t see the point because he wasn’t going to
give in, which meant Darrell would be standing on his front porch, or that of
the main house, first thing in the morning.