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Authors: Myla Jackson

BOOK: Boots and Chaps
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“They’ll have to be, because that’s all they’re gonna get.” Audrey shook her head. Charli had gone way past the limit this time. She’d have to have a long talk with the girl when this was all over. “You’ll have to cover the bar tonight, this might take some finagling.” And she was just the finagler to do it. A plan formed in her mind that would fulfill a company promise, satisfy her sexual frustration and keep her reputation intact. It was a big order to fill, but one she could do if she played her cards right.

Self-doubt hit her as soon as she skipped out the front door of the bar.

Had it been too long? Had she forgotten everything in the past two years? Could she get away with it and not get caught? Audrey’s heartbeat skipped into overdrive as she climbed into her bright red pickup and headed to her little house on the edge of Temptation.

Tonight she’d get what she wanted and give the Gray Wolf men what they wanted and walk away string-free—no commitment, no one maintaining control over her.

Win-win!

Chapter Three

When Jackson entered through the back door of the Ugly Stick Saloon, he braced himself against the loud music and the potential of even louder screams of
Surprise!

Instead Charli stepped in his path before he’d gotten five feet inside the door. “Jackson. Just the man I was thinking about.” Charli’s laugh was a little more high-pitched than usual. She hooked his arm, dragged him through the Ugly Stick and pushed him toward a barstool, shooting a furtive glance over her shoulder at the bar entrance. “Can I get you a drink?”

He frowned, his gaze roving over the bar, the dance floor and the patrons already seated at the tables. A few of the regulars lifted a hand or nodded in his direction. “I didn’t plan on staying.” So where was the party? The only surprise he had was the niggle of disappointment he felt that no one pounded him on the back, congratulating him on reaching his thirtieth birthday.

“Oh, come on, just one drink. Then you can fix that light bulb that’s blown out in the back entryway.” Charli scooted around to the other side of the bar.

“Already replaced it.” Jackson hesitated, then slipped onto the barstool.

“Oh. Well, then have a drink on the house for fixing our light.” She grabbed a tall beer mug and filled it from the tap, her movements jerky, almost nervous, if Jackson wasn’t mistaken.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“What could possibly be wrong?” She slapped the beer on the counter, sloshing liquid over the sides. “Oops.” With an apologetic grin, she grabbed a rag and sopped up the beer.

Jackson snagged her wrist, rag and all. “Hey, it’s me. Why are you so nervous?”

“No reason.” She gave him a smile so fake, Jackson thought her lips would crack. “None whatsoever.” Charli untangled her wrist from his grip and moved out of reach. “Excuse me. I have to get something from the back.”

“Is Audrey working tonight?” Jackson asked and lifted his beer to his lips, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

“No.” Charli grinned. “No, she’s got another commitment.” The woman disappeared into the back room.

His hands wrapped around the cool beer mug, Jackson stared down into the frothy liquid. No party, just as he’d asked. The sense of satisfaction wasn’t all he’d thought it would be. The fact that Audrey wasn’t there had more do with it than the lack of celebration, and the thought of Audrey’s other
commitment
made him grind his teeth.

The swelling in his groin hadn’t dissipated much from the previous night, leaving him more twitchy and frustrated than before. Worse still, he didn’t have a hope of alleviating his need in the very near future.

He downed the rest of the beer and set the mug on the counter. He had to get out of there, maybe take a drive with the windows down to cool off. He could swing by Audrey’s place, if he knew where that was. She’d said something about living in Temptation.

Nah, she’d think he was stalking her, and Jackson didn’t want her to think he was that desperate.

Hell, he might as well go home and hit the sack. There was plenty of work the next day to wear him out. Living on a ranch, he never lacked for something to keep him busy—always a fence to mend, an animal needing attention, equipment to fix, not to mention a herd of steers to load onto a tractor-trailer rig.

Jackson left the bar and climbed into his truck. Driving away, he glanced back at the Ugly Stick and shook his head. He couldn’t believe his brothers really didn’t plan anything for him. And many of his friends had been at the bar, which meant no party awaiting his return to the house.

With a sigh, Jackson shifted into drive and headed for the ranch, to slog through the last couple hours of his birthday, unnoticed, uncelebrated and completely uneventful. Just as he’d asked.

What had his mother always said?

Careful what you wish for, you might just get it.

Thirty minutes later, he arrived at the ranch house, pulling up beside his brother’s trucks, the only other vehicles in the driveway.

He sat for a minute, studying the house.

The television was on in the living room, the light from the monitor glowing through the open blinds.

Mark rose from the couch and walked past the window into the hallway, returning a minute later with a bowl. Probably popcorn. A typical night at the Gray Wolf house. Boring. Uneventful.

Confident he wasn’t facing a gauntlet of well-wishers, Jackson entered the house.

“Hey, Jackson, how was your hot date?” Luke called out without budging from his position sprawled across one end of the couch.

“It wasn’t a date. I changed a light bulb.” Jackson peeked around the corner of the hallway into the kitchen. No one waited in the shadows to jump out and surprise him.

“Looking for something?” Mark stepped up behind him.

“No. Just making sure someone cleaned up the kitchen.”

“We got that covered.” Mark opened the door to the refrigerator. “I grilled a steak for you if you’re still hungry.”

“No thanks. I think I’ll hit the sack. Got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself.” Mark returned to the living room without further comment.

That’s it?
Had his brothers actually complied with his wishes for the first time ever? Jackson smiled as he headed toward his room, the smile fading the closer he got to his door. Turning thirty had been a completely normal day. So much so, it left him feeling a bit empty. If he wasn’t mistaken, he’d say he was downright sad. No party, no Audrey. All he had to show for the day was one torn shirt and a doctored cow udder.

Jackson pulled his shirt over his head and sat on the side of his bed, toeing off his boots, one at a time, dropping them to the floor.

A loud thump and a shout sounded from the living room. What the heck were Mark and Luke up to at this hour? Weren’t they getting a little old to wrestle in the house? Jackson listened and the noise stopped.

When he stood to unbutton his jeans, music filtered through his door. The sound built and swelled, thump, thump, thumping against the walls until Jackson could no longer ignore it. Anger surged through him as he shoved through his door and stomped down the hallway to the living room.

The couches had been pushed back against the walls and all of the lights had been turned down or off except one lamp that had been stripped of its shade, the bulb replaced by a black-light bulb. A strobe light perched on the fireplace mantel blinked off and on, adding to the nightclub feel of the room.

Jackson came to a halt, nearly tripping over an ottoman when a lithe, graceful figure entered the room. Her long, straight, platinum-blonde hair swung down around her hips. A white cowboy hat and a Lone Ranger mask guarded her face from view. But it wasn’t her face Jackson was looking at.

She wore a white blouse tied snuggly beneath her full, voluptuous breasts. Her bare midriff displayed taut abs all the way down to the tie strap of the leather chaps riding low on the sexy swell of her hips. Beneath the chaps she wore a white string-bikini bottom that glowed brightly. On her feet dark cowboy boots glistened with shiny metal diamond-shaped studs, sparkling in the flash of the strobe and black light.

His breath caught in his throat, Jackson stood transfixed as the woman strutted into the center of the room and stopped with her hands on her hips, her feet spread wide.

The music changed tempos to his favorite country-western song about saving horses and riding cowboys.

One boot tapped against the hardwood floor, then the other, the chaps swaying with the movement of the blonde’s hips.

Jackson’s mouth dried, his cock twitched and the pulse at the base of his throat pounded to the rhythm of the music.

Mark and Luke hooted and hollered, stomping their feet with the beat, jerking Jackson out of his trance. For a moment he’d been the only man in the room. Now he was one of three, ogling a dancer. Anger spurred by his mounting irritation pushed Jackson over the edge.

“What the hell’s going on?” he shouted.

The music played on, and the dancer rocked her pelvis, her arms rising toward the ceiling. She rolled her head, the long bleached-blonde hair swishing down over her back. When she turned, Jackson groaned.

The back of the bikini bottom was nothing more than a thin strip of material disappearing down the crack of her ass. She bent over, giving him a full moon of two luscious butt cheeks.

“What does it look like?” Mark grinned and rose off the couch. “We hired a stripper in honor of your birthday, but since you didn’t want any part of a party, we decided not to cancel. Someone ought to get a little enjoyment out of the money we spent.”

Luke stood too and held out his hand to the dancer.

She placed her fingers in his and allowed him to twirl her away from him, then back into a tight clinch in his arms, his knee parting her thighs, her buttocks shining Jackson’s way. The blonde’s hips rocked, rubbing her pussy over Luke’s thigh. She mashed her breasts against his chest.

Jackson closed his eyes and pushed a hand through his hair. This wasn’t helping him at all. He wanted Audrey, not this blonde. But the woman had moves that were driving him wild with need.

“Is the music keeping you up, old man?” Mark reached out for the blonde’s hand. “We can turn down the volume.”

The woman tugged Mark close, sandwiching herself between the brothers. Her arms stretched out behind her, palms clamping down on Mark’s ass, pressing his groin against her near-naked ass.

A jolt of electricity shot through Jackson, his dick rubbing hard against the buttons of his jeans.

“I’m Kiki.” She lifted a hand toward him, beckoning, speaking for the first time, her voice low, husky and dripping with sensuality. “Don’t you want to join us?”

His feet moved him forward a step before Jackson’s brain engaged. “No. I don’t do foursomes.”

“That’s too bad…because I do.” She shrugged and traced a finger along the side of Luke’s face, sliding lower to the length of his neck and down his chest where she flicked the buttons of his shirt open.

Jackson told himself to leave the room and let his brothers have their fun. He backed up a step with every intention of returning to his bedroom, maybe to a cold shower or two.

Kiki’s tongue poked out of her mouth and slid along her full, voluptuous lips. Her chin dipped and she shot a half smile at him, her light eyes shining through the black mask.

“Oh, come on, Jackson.” Mark’s hands rested on the woman’s hips, rising slowly up her sides to cup her breasts. “Stick around for the show. Really, what’s it going to hurt?”

What would it hurt? His balls and his dick, that’s what. If he didn’t get some relief soon, he’d bust the buttons on his jeans. Jackson resisted adjusting himself, refusing to let his brothers know how much their little stripper had him under her spell.

He forced his shoulders to relax enough to shrug. “I guess I’d better stick around and make sure you two don’t make any unwanted advances.”

Mark’s hands slipped around Kiki’s waist and down to the triangle of material. “Hey, sweetheart, let me know when my advances are unwanted.”

“Oh, baby, I’m wanting.” She clasped his hands and slid them inside the white fabric, leaning back against him, her head resting on his chest, exposing the long, sexy line of her neck.

Jackson staggered backward, his butt connecting with the arm of the sofa. He perched on the edge, promising himself he’d leave if the dancing got any more graphic. He’d never been one to watch while others fucked. It wasn’t right.

The dancer reached out and flicked the buttons of her shirt open, loosening the knot beneath her breasts.

Behind her, Mark lifted the shirt from her shoulders, peeling it down her arms to her elbows. He stopped there and twisted the fabric behind her back.

Kiki’s eyes widened, her lips forming into a pout. “But I can’t move my arms.”

Mark grinned. “Exactly. It was the kinky part we asked for.”

Jackson half-rose from the couch, ready to intervene.

The blonde’s eyelids drooped, a sexy smile curling the corners of her mouth. “Okay. So you like to play a little rough?”

“Oh, yeah, baby.” Luke grabbed her hips, dragging her hard against him. “For a stripper, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Let me dance.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at Mark. “I’ll remedy that little problem.”

Mark’s brows dipped, his hand tightening on the fabric of the shirt clinching her arms together behind her. “I don’t know. I kinda like the rough play. Perhaps my brother can help you with the rest of your stripping routine.”

“Only if it’s the other brother.” She nodded toward Jackson.

“Uh-uh.” Jackson crossed his arms over his naked chest. “I told you, I don’t do foursomes.”

“Come on, Jack. We want to see what else she has to offer,” Luke begged.

“If he doesn’t come out to play, I’m done for the night.” Kiki tilted her head toward Jackson in challenge.

“You gotta do it,” Luke groaned. “What I’m feeling is amazing.” His hand slipped lower, dipping between her thighs. “All wet and juicy. Damn it, Jackson, have a heart.”

Jackson stood with every intention of leaving the room. But the eyes looking out from the black mask mesmerized him, drawing him closer.

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