Boots and Chaps (12 page)

He might as well have started a riot. Once the other women saw his naked chest, every female in the establishment screamed and crowded in on the three men, ripping shirts, grabbing for pant legs and belt buckles.

Trapped on his knees in the melee, Jackson could do nothing. He couldn’t hit them—they were women. One woman reached around him and unbuckled his belt, another unzipped his jeans and several had hold of his boots, tugging them off with surprising strength. Jackson held tightly to his jeans with one hand and to the red boot with the other. But he wasn’t strong enough to ward off a dozen women pulling at his jeans like a tug-of-war rope.

Off they came, half a dozen women falling over like dominoes.

Jackson leaped to his socked feet and tried to make a dash for the bar.

“Oh lucky day! He’s not even wearing a G-string!”

Women screamed and charged after him, hands groping, spinning him around so that they too could see his goddamn dick. He tried to be nice, tried not to hurt anyone, but he was getting fuckin’ tired of being treated like a prize bull at a cattle auction—poked and prodded like fresh meat.

He caught a glimpse of Mark and Luke. Damned if his brothers weren’t enjoying all the attention.

Mark spun his T-shirt over his head and let it fly.

Luke stood flexing his muscles for a crowd of women of all ages, each vying for a chance to get close enough to run their hands across his dark skin.

Jackson just wanted to get to Audrey. He spotted Charli in the distance climbing onto the bar.

“Hey, ladies, calm down.” She put her fingers to her lips and whistled, loud enough to pierce Jackson’s eardrums. “These men aren’t part of the show.”

The crowd quieted for a moment until one woman shouted, “They are now. Finders keepers!”

The frenzy recommenced. No amount of ear-splitting whistles would stop the rabid, horny women from clawing, kissing, pinching and grabbing the men.

Jackson’s heart hammered as he struggled one agonizing step at a time, inching his way through the throng toward the bar. His ass hurt from all the pinching, and some women even pinched his dick.

Animals!

Once he reached the relative safety of the bar, he hauled himself up on the wooden platform, dragging in deep gulps of air.

As soon as he straightened, the noise level skyrocketed.

“Oh, baby, he’s gonna dance!”

“Crank up the music.”

“Dang, he’s hung like a horse!”

“I want me some of that.”

Mark reached the bar about the time the music started, Luke seconds after.

They too had been stripped of boots, hats, shirts and belts. Unlike their big brother, they still wore their jeans.

Mark laughed up at Jackson. “You got balls, bro.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jackson scanned the crowd. “Do you see my jeans anywhere?”

“No.” Mark hauled himself up on the bar, but hands grabbed his legs and he was forced to sit instead of stand. More hands grasped his jeans and pulled. He held on to the edge of the bar to keep from falling off. He fought valiantly, but his jeans lost the war and were flung high above the crowd.

Luke shook his head, backing against the bar. “No way.” He waved his hands in front of the ladies. “I’m keeping my jeans.” With his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, he fought to maintain his hold. Then his legs were ripped out from under him. Luke made a grab for the bar, barely catching the edge before his legs were dragged out behind him, forcing him to levitate above the concrete floor. The jeans slipped off, and he too scrambled to stand out of reach of pinching fingers groping his privates.

Jackson would have laughed out loud, but he was too busy holding off the hordes, bracing the red boot in front of him over his shriveling cock.

The music came on, the sound rising enough to be heard over the screams. Women stopped grabbing and started clapping in time, and soon a chant raised the roof. “Dance! Dance! Dance!”

Charli had disappeared into the back room, reemerging as the chanting began.

“Did you call the sheriff?” Jackson shouted over the noise.

Charli grinned and pointed to her ears, mouthing the words,
Can’t hear you.
Before Jackson could ask again, even Charli was clapping her hands and chanting, her gaze raking over Jackson’s, Mark’s and Luke’s bodies, pausing at the most vulnerable spots.

Jackson groaned. He couldn’t get off the bar or his privates would be so violated he might never sire children. All he could do was wait out the storm and hope the women got bored and left soon.

Mark and Luke swayed to the music, flexing their muscles and grinding their hips.

Cries rose from the ladies, and they shouted, “More!”

At the back of the crowd a glimpse of strawberry-blonde hair caught Jackson’s eye like a ray of hope in a stormy sky. Was it…?

A woman made a grab for the red boot he held in front of his dick and jerked it out of his hand. “We want to see.”

Jackson lunged for the boot, falling into the crowd. Like a rock star at a concert, they moved him above their heads, touching, feeling and fondling all the way.

He spotted the red boot on the floor near someone’s feet, and he rolled to the side, disrupting the chain of hands. He dropped to the floor, lunged for the boot, and it was whisked out of sight before he could get his hands on it. He straightened, his gaze climbing the denim-clad legs to face off with Greta Sue, the female bouncer. In her hand, she held the boot. “Looking for this?”

Jackson smiled and winced as the woman behind him reached between his legs and squeezed his scrotum.

Greta Sue glared at the woman. “Back off, bitch.”

The woman let go of Jackson’s balls and stepped back.

Straightening to his full height, Jackson squared off with Greta Sue. “Yes. I was looking for that.”

She inspected the boot. “Not your size.”

A hand snaked out from behind Greta Sue and plucked the boot from her fingers. “No, but it’s mine.” Audrey’s voice carried over the roar of the crowd.

Jackson’s heart thundered against his ribs. This was not the way he envisioned this meeting would go. He fought the urge to fig-leaf his hand over his penis. She’d seen it all, touched it and fucked it. That last thought put life into his limp dick. Ah, hell, the more he tried not to think about all they’d done, the more he did and the bigger his cock swelled.

Several women standing nearby gasped.

One touched her throat and cried, “Oh, my.” Fingers stretched out to touch his member.

Greta Sue blocked her hand. “Don’t touch the merchandise.”

Jackson grinned at her. “Thanks.”

“Thanks, nothing. I want a clear view, not some skanky female’s hands all over, blocking that masterpiece.”

“Greta Sue,” Audrey said in a quiet, authoritative voice. “I’ll take it from here.”

Greta Sue grunted. “I just bet you will.” The big woman moved to the side, clearing the path between Audrey and Jackson.

Audrey’s brows rose, her gaze skimming him from head to foot. “Lose something?”

He shrugged, forcing a nonchalance he didn’t feel standing naked in front of a hundred drooling women. “More like I found something.”

She glanced at her boot. “Wondered where it had gotten to. Thanks for returning it.” Audrey nodded toward the bouncer. “Greta Sue will escort you and your brothers out, when you’re quite through entertaining the ladies.” She spun and strode for the door behind the bar.

“Audrey!” he yelled.

Audrey didn’t appear to notice, didn’t turn and acknowledge him or anything. Well, hell!

Jackson tried to follow her, but the crowd closed in on him again, blocking his path. He glanced at Greta Sue. “Help me.”

Greta grinned. “Whatcha gonna give me?”

He stared around the room. What could he give this woman? Everything he’d worn into the room had been stripped from his body. All he had was himself. With a grin, he waved at his cock and shrugged. “A good grope?”

“Deal.” She strong-armed her way through the grasping, pinching women, clearing a path for him to reach the bar. Then she gave him a boost up to join his brothers.

With a deep breath, he turned to face Greta Sue. “Go ahead.”

Greta Sue reached out a meaty hand and ran her fingers gently along his cock from the tip to the base, then fondled his balls, threading her fingers through the dark hairs.

It could have been worse. Those hands could have crushed juice from an avocado seed. Jackson counted himself lucky that he’d gotten off so easy.

Greta Sue sighed. “Thanks, hun.” Then she disappeared into the crowd.

Jackson turned toward the door leading into the back-office area and storeroom. Audrey stood there, a sad smile curling her lips.

“Audrey.” Jackson held out a hand to her.

She shook her head, her eyes shining suspiciously. When she spun away, Jackson knew he had to do something radical to get her attention.

He shouted above the ladies’ screams. “Wanna see me dance?”

Every woman in the building gave a resounding, “
Hell, yeah!
”

He crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head toward Audrey’s retreating figure. “I will, only if Audrey Anderson stays to watch.”

A surge of women shoved through the door where Audrey had disappeared, emerging seconds later with the struggling bar owner.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“He’s gonna dance, but you have to watch too.” Greta Sue hooked Audrey’s arm and marched her forward.

“I’m dedicating this dance to a fun-loving, sexy woman I’d love to get to know so much better.” Jackson nodded to the woman at the jukebox. “Play something hot and sexy.”

Music filled the air and shouts rose to the ceiling, fading away so that they could hear the music as Jackson swayed and ground his hips, dancing across the bar toward Audrey.

As he neared her, she backed away.

Mark and Luke leaped off the bar and blocked her escape, their bodies pressing into hers, their cocks fully engorged.

“I think I’m in love,” a woman wailed.

“With which one?” the woman next to her asked.

“All of them. Look at the size of those cocks.” She fanned herself.

Jackson ignored the comments, his gaze and attention solely focused on one woman. He’d never been much for dancing, and was probably doing it wrong, but he wanted to give back some of what she’d given him. He danced for Audrey.

Halfway through the song, Jackson slipped off the bar and landed in front of Audrey. “Don’t run away from me, beautiful lady. Please. I’m baring my soul to you in this dance.”

Luke snorted. “That’s not the only thing he’s baring.”

“Yeah,” Mark added. “We came to find you.”

Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes, and she raised her hand to wipe them away. “I’m not that other person.”

Jackson grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips. “Yes, you are.”

“No.” She looked up, her blue eyes awash with moisture. “I can’t be that person ever again.”

“Maybe not, but you can be yourself.” Jackson laid her hand on his chest. “Feel how hard you make my heart beat?”

She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks now. “But—”

He pressed a finger to her lips and replaced it with his mouth. “We love you just the way you are, in boots and chaps or nothing at all.
I
love you just the way you are.”

Audrey glanced away from Jackson, unable to look into his eyes. Unable to believe the tenderness she saw there. Randy had made her feel that her desires were wrong, wicked and dirty.

Weren’t they?

The shouting had stopped, the entire room growing silent, every ear turned toward Jackson, Audrey and the twins.

“Who could love someone like that?” she whispered.

Jackson lifted her chin and stared down into her eyes. “I could, if you’d let me.”

“And me,” Luke chimed in.

Mark tucked a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. “Me too.”

Audrey laughed, the sound catching on a sob. “Really?”

Jackson pulled her into his arms, his warmth wiping away the coldness of her past, the worry that she was unworthy to be loved by a man, much less three.

A collective sigh rose from the crowd and a soft chanting rose to fill the silence. “
Kiss her.
”

Jackson tipped Audrey’s chin, and when his lips pressed against hers, his cock nudged her belly, stirring to life the desires she’d unleashed only a short time ago. Her hands rounded his waist and dropped to his buttocks, pulling him closer.

“So unfair,” she whispered against his lips.

“What’s unfair?” He brushed his mouth across her nose, her eyes, her cheekbone.

Audrey breathed deeply, letting go of the last of her inhibitions, the final ghosts that had haunted her for the past few years, and smiled up at Jackson. “You’re naked and I’m not.”

Jackson bent, scooped her into his arms and carried her through the door into the storeroom where it had all begun.

Mark and Luke whooped and followed, closing the door behind them.

When they had the room to themselves, the men gently stripped Audrey of her clothes and one by one, they touched her, letting her know they could be as gentle as they could be rough, as tender as they were kinky.

Jackson took center stage, lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Your desires are my desires. If you want multiple partners, you’ve got it.”

“What about spanking?” she asked, wiggling, trying to sheathe him with her cunt and failing miserably. He wouldn’t let her lower herself over him. “Do you think a business owner should like to be spanked?”

Jackson grinned and held her above his jutting penis. “Absolutely.” He smacked her ass.

Audrey squealed. “What was that for?”

With a grin he rubbed the stinging area. “Wait until you’re invited to fuck me.”

Mark stood behind her, his hands cupping her breasts, pinching the nipples hard enough to make her squirm. “Do you like that?”

“Ummm, yes.” She leaned back against him. “Do it again.”

He did.

Luke caressed her ass, his finger finding and poking into her anus. “And this?”

Her breathing came in shallow gulps. “Yes.”

Jackson lifted her higher, positioning her pussy directly over his dick.