Corralled (6 page)

Two knocks sounded; then Doc’s assistant, Randy, poked his head in. “Parnell is lookin’ for you, Doc.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.” Doc rubbed his forehead again.

“Never fails. I’m damn surprised we had a conversation this long without bein’ interrupted. At any rate, we’ll talk more later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then Doc was gone.

The closer to performance time, the busier Lainie was. She taped wrists, thumbs, ankles, and ribs— with the Lariat- stamped medical supplies. She fielded phone calls. Dealt with the little crap the sponsors required, making sure the logo was visible everywhere LORELEI JAMES 9

in the assigned room, down to the positioning of the water bottles in the coolers. She was low woman on the totem pole— in fact, she was the
only
woman on the totem pole. Which meant she did a lot of fetch- and- carry.

She loved the bustle, the action, and the sense of family on the CRA circuits— maybe because the family aspect was sadly lacking in her life, but she felt she belonged here.

No matter how many times she heard the announcements over the PA system of the night’s rodeo sponsors, the names of the rodeo queens in attendance, the entertainment, the call for veterans to stand, when the local singer began “The Star Spangled Banner”

she still got goose bumps from being part of something so wholly American.

If things were boring in the medical room— which they all hoped for—

Lainie and the other Lariat employees took turns watching the action in the arena. Normally she preferred barrel racing and team roping to the rough stock events, but tonight she had the overwhelming urge to attend the bull riding section.

It was no coincidence the rodeo promoters kept the most popular event for last. In some of the bigger venues, the bull riding was interspersed between other events. The crowd went wild at the announcement of the first rider. Lainie hustled through the barricades separating the chutes and gates from the arena, flashing her Lariat pass at the guards policing the area.

The buzzer echoed and a smattering of applause followed. The guy was bucked off with no score. Lainie climbed up the metal rungs and rested her arms on the top of the fence.

Oh, looky there. One very hot bullfighter was bouncing from foot to foot. His nylon performance shorts brushed the backs of his muscular calves. Hank’s loose- fitting sponsorship shirt covered the tight vest. Not as thick as the vest required for bull riders, but it offered some protection against horns and hooves.

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Three bullfighters worked the chutes. Because they dealt with all the bulls rather than just one, bullfighters were injured more frequently than bull riders. Why any man would willingly go headto- head with a bull confounded her.

She zeroed in on the guy on the bull behind the gate. He wore a black cowboy hat, not a protective face- mask helmet. She shook her head at the poor choice. Before too long she hoped helmets were required safety equipment for all bull riders on all circuits, the same way vests were required.

The rider nodded his head and the gate jerked open. The bull leaped out; strings of snot flew from his nose; his hindquarters left the ground as he attempted to fling the rider into the air. The bull succeeded and bucked the rider off at 4.8 seconds.

Again Lainie was reminded of where the spectator’s focus was: on the bull and rider. Not on the bullfighters who distracted the snorting beast so the rider could scramble away unscathed.

Dammit. Even she hadn’t watched Hank during the bull ride—and she had a vested interest in making sure he kept his big, hot body safe. She squinted at the scoreboard across the arena floor to see what rider was up next. No one she recognized. The announcer blathered on and she focused on the far chute. Namely on Hank, ten feet off to the side of the chute, still bouncing in anticipation.

Lainie could hang stark naked from the ceiling and Hank wouldn’t notice her; his concentration was absolute.

The gate opened and Hank stayed out of the way— until the rider hit the dirt. Then he ran straight at the bull and danced to the right, weaving and bobbing, forcing the animal to charge him rather than the guy who was still struggling to get up.

Then the bull abruptly switched direction and trotted back through the livestock gate. But Hank was already down by the next chute, waiting for the next rider. It was fascinating to see Hank working. She knew other bullfighters deferred to him, which was a LORELEI JAMES 9

big deal, because Hank wasn’t that old. For the first time she wondered if Hank had aspirations of moving up. Since the EBS dealt only with bulls and not other rodeo events, getting a job as a bullfighter with that organization would be a huge boost.

It bothered her, not knowing Hank’s future plans.

That’s because it’s just sex between you two, remember?

Except now, it’d be sex between the three of them.

Lainie wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed. Did she just saunter up to them tonight and say, “Ride me hard, boys”?

The way things looked right now, this would be a one- time-only threesome. As Hank and Kyle traveled from rodeo to rodeo during Cowboy Christmas, she’d be holed up in her apartment.

Maybe she’d head up into the mountains, see if her buddy Mara could snag time off and hop a flight to Vegas. Or visit the beach.

“Now up, a name we haven’t seen on the CRA circuit, but that might be familiar to those of you who follow the EBS.”

A few boos echoed. Her attention snapped back to the chutes.

“Kyle Gilchrist comes to us from Rawlins, Wyoming. Let’s make Kyle feel welcome in his CRA debut.”

She peered at the figure behind the bars but couldn’t discern whether he wore a safety helmet or a cowboy hat. Whenever he’d come into the sports medicine room he’d already stripped out of his chaps and riding gear. She’d never watched Kyle ride, but many people in the rodeo world compared Kyle’s fluid, graceful riding style to her late father’s technique.

Lainie’s breath stalled when the chute opened and the bull jumped so high all four hooves were off the ground at the same time. Landing hard, the speckled body spun to the left. Spun to the right. Twice. Jerked its rear around. Kyle held on. His body flowed with the angry bull’s every twist and turn, his free arm up in the air, his feet spurring.

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The momentum of the crowd grew. The clapping and whistling nearly drowned out the buzz of the timer.

Kyle pulled the release from the hand wrap and bailed off the bull, landing right square on his ass. He clambered to his feet, immediately making a beeline for the fence surrounding the stands, when the bull gave chase.

But the bull didn’t get far before Hank slapped it on the rear flank. The ornery beast spun toward the new potential conquest.

Hank raced to the livestock gate and the bull trotted in without looking back.

“You ready for this, Lamar? We’ve got a new high score. How about an . . . eighty- nine- point- five debut for the cowboy from Wyoming?”

Thunderous applause echoed from the stands and Lainie clapped along, laughing as Hank and Kyle did a jumping chest bump on the arena floor, much to the delight of the crowd. Then Kyle picked up his flank strap and tipped his hat to the fans.

Only four riders remained and chances were good none would knock Kyle off the leaderboard. Lainie returned to the medical room and busied herself stacking towels. When she heard the shuffle of boots and the muffled clank of spurs, she turned and saw Kyle wearing a sexy grin a mile wide.

She couldn’t help but smile back and give him a once- over. It ought to be illegal to look that damn good in a pair of dusty chaps.

“Nice ride,” she said.

His eyebrows rose. “You watched it?”

“Yeah. Been pretty boring in here tonight.”

“I can’t say I’m unhappy about that.”

Her gaze dropped to where he was cupping his right elbow.

“What happened?”

LORELEI JAMES 9

“Nothin’— just jerked my riding arm a little hard on my dismount.”

“Where?”

He pointed to the outside of his forearm.

“Think it might be fractured?” Most bull riders had broken so many bones they knew the difference between a sprain, a bruised muscle, a fracture, and a break.

“No. I’m fine. That’s not why I—”

“Sit. Let me look at it.”

“Lainie—”

“Now.”

Kyle grumbled. But he sat.

Lainie rolled his shirt cuff up as far as it would go. She poked the skin surrounding the bone. Just slightly swollen. She let her fingers trace the bend in his elbow and move up his beefy biceps.

When Kyle sucked in a breath, she finally looked at him. The desire she saw made her mouth dry.

“Every damn time you touch me, Lainie. Whether it’s in a professional capacity or when we’re alone—”

“Kyle—”

“There’s no one here but us. Let me speak my piece while I’ve got the chance.”

She nodded.

“I like bein’ with you. A lot. It probably seems weird, what Hank and me have proposed, but neither one of us wants to walk away from you.”

“I get that. But I won’t pit you guys against each other.”

Kyle reached out to touch her face, but let his hand fall back to his leg at the last second. “We both know that.”

“Are you here speaking on Hank’s behalf?”

“Yes. We figured it’d be easier if we didn’t come blazing in here together. So I am here to ask if you’ve made a decision.”

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“You want my answer right now?”

“The rodeo is almost over. People are gonna be heading out, and me ’n’ Hank wanna know which direction we’ll be goin’.”

Lainie searched his eyes. No smugness. Just curiosity. And an underlying hint of cautiousness. Kyle wasn’t looking at her like a sure thing, a done deal. Would her answer be any different if Hank had asked?

No. It’d be exactly the same: a resounding yes.

She rolled his sleeve down and snapped the buttons before she met his gaze again. “I’ll see you both at my room in an hour.”

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9

,
yle and Hank sat in Hank’s truck in front of Lainie’s hotel.

The allotted hour was nearly up. They’d rushed back to their room, showered, changed, and counted up the condoms between the two of them. Nine. Enough for one night.

“Should we’ve brought her flowers or something?” Kyle asked.

“Hell if I know,” Hank said.

Kyle blew out an unsteady breath. Might as well get this confession over. “I ain’t ever been in this position before.”

Hank’s head whipped around. “Meaning what? Getting ready to have a threesome?”

Kyle felt the tops of his ears burning. “Yeah. Maybe that makes me lame or something—”

“I’ve never done this either,” Hank blurted out, which was unlike him.

They stared at each other. Then they both laughed. Hard.

Tension broken, Hank drawled, “Three threesome virgins—imagine that.”

“So do we let Lainie know we’re greenhorns?” Kyle asked.

“I guess we’ll see.”

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“I’m thinking we keep that info to ourselves unless she asks.

But we gotta act like we know what we’re doin’.”

“How do you propose we do that, Kyle?”

He shrugged. “Just like this morning. Take charge. If we don’t let her overthink every move, chances are we won’t either. We’ll just go with it.”

“True. But I keep thinkin’ we’ll get to her room and she’ll have changed her mind,” Hank said.

“We’d hafta actually get out of the damn truck to figure out if that’s true or not,” Kyle pointed out.

Hank straightened his hat and grabbed the door handle. “Let’s do this thing.”

Inside the hotel at Lainie’s door, they looked at each other.

Hank nodded and Kyle knocked.

Locks disengaged and the door swung open. Lainie stepped back and jammed her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Um. Hi.

Come in.”

Man. She was nervous. That made three of them.

For some odd reason, it calmed Kyle. There were no rules. No right or wrong way to approach this. For all he knew maybe they’d sit around and watch TV tonight.

But then, looking at her lush lips and breasts, Kyle threw caution to the wind. He vaguely heard the door slam when he cupped Lainie’s face in his hands and kissed her.

He didn’t devour her mouth; he kept the kiss soft and easy, laced with heat and intent. She leaned into him without taking her hands out of her back pockets. Kyle broke his lips free in tiny biting increments. “Mmm. That’s what I’m talking about.” He sidestepped her, curious as to how Hank would react.

Hank didn’t play it cool. He swooped in, picked her up, and gently tossed her on the closest bed.

LORELEI JAMES 9

Lainie’s shriek of surprise was muffled as Hank kissed her thoroughly, leaving her arms trapped behind her.

Kyle knew Hank had taken the right tack. Tipping Lainie off balance from the start, making the situation light and fun. No pressure. No discussion. No time for nerves— from any of them.

“See what we have here, Kyle?”

He leaned over and peered at Lainie. “Yes, I do. But you’ve got way too many clothes on, hot stuff.”

“You get her boots off while I make sure those hands of hers stay right where they are,” Hank said.

Thump. Thump.
Boots hit the floor. “Now what?”

“You work on her bottom half and I’ll work on her top half. Up you go, sweetheart.”

Once Lainie was standing again, she spoke. “Guys, I’m not sure—”

Hank briefly pressed his mouth to hers. “We are. Trust us.”

Kyle was impressed by Hank’s take- charge stance; Lainie complied immediately. But that didn’t mean he’d allow Hank to call all the shots. Kyle said, “Drop your hands by your sides.” He worked the button and zipper on her jeans. The instant he caught a glimpse of her pink bikini panties, his cock went from semihard to fully erect. He dropped to his knees and placed a kiss on the alluring section of skin above the waistband.

A soft gasp escaped from her parted lips.

“Help me yank these off,” Kyle said to her. She seemed strangely shy after her jeans hit the ground and she stood in front of him in her panties. He looked at Hank. “Your turn.”