Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 (24 page)

Blood and tears stung the eye that had been punched, and it was swelling rapidly.

The fight went out of Tucker. Under Christian’s body, Tucker’s went lax.

Passed out.

“Fucking hell.” Christian rolled his friend off the string bean cowboy and offered the man a hand up. The guy gripped Christian’s hand, and he launched to his feet.

“Get him outta here, Davis,” Shady said.

Christian hitched a thumb in his pocket and stared down at his friend’s unconscious face. Beautiful face—rugged in a way that stirred Christian. Even that new piercing made him look manlier.

With a nod, he grasped Tucker’s shirt and hauled him up and over his shoulder. The dead weight made Christian stagger a bit, but he righted himself.

On his way past the guys Tucker had fought, Christian caught their stares. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Tell your friend when he wakes up that he should learn to handle his whisky better.”

Whisky?
Yeah, now that Christian was in such close proximity to his friend, he smelled the sharp alcohol all over him. Was this what he’d learned while away? How to be a drunk?

Someone opened the door for Christian, and he passed through it, leaving the crowd and the loud music behind. Tucker’s hard body rode on Christian’s shoulder easily as he crossed the parking lot. Only problem was getting the truck door open.

Then again…

He dumped Tucker over the side of the truck, right into the metal bed. The crash roused Tucker, and he loosed a growl.

“Sons of a bitches, I’ll finish this!”

Christian stepped on the bumper and hooked a leg over the side, perching on the tailgate. He stared down at Tucker, who was pushing himself into a sitting position. A groan eased from him as he found he’d taken more blows than originally thought.

Tucker touched the top of his head. “Lost my hat.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose your teeth. Or your freedom. Cops on their way, called to a bar brawl. Why did you pick a fight with those guys?”

Tucker dropped his gaze. “Can’t recall.”

“Yeah, I thought that was the case.”

“Am I allowed to sit inside your truck on the way home?” Tucker’s voice was low, contrite.

It tugged at Christian’s heartstrings. Damn him to hell. “That depends. You gonna puke?”

Tucker contemplated a moment and shook his head. Christian climbed off the tailgate and went around to the driver’s door while Tucker hauled his body out of the bed. He joined Christian in the cab a long minute later.

“Sorry about your black eye. I didn’t do that, did I?”

“If you had, you’d be feeling it now.” Something about Christian’s comment cast a net of charged silence over them.

“That’s the thing I need, you know,” Tucker said, his words only slightly slurred.

“What’s that?” Christian fought the rising need in him—a desire to rut.

“I need to feel something different from the old pain.”

A few raindrops struck the windshield and ran down like tears. Christian stared at them, taking in what his friend was trying to say.

“In other words, you’re causing yourself new pains to wipe out the old.”

Tucker’s eyes glistened. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Man, you can throw yourself off bridges, ravines or a horse’s back. Go full tilt on your path to self-destruction. But. Do. Not. Take. Claire. With. You.”

A little voice in the back of Christian’s head cried,
Or me
. But he didn’t say it. If Tucker harbored an ounce of emotion for him, he would hear the bell toll loud and clear.

Christian put the truck into gear. “You might want to think about this, man.”

Tucker’s voice was fogged. “What’s that?”

“Know what they do with horses that can’t be tamed?”

Tucker turned his face to the window, and his silence meant he understood that Christian and Claire could cut him loose. Forever.

Christian stared through the drops of rain, unwilling to release his blurred look at the world just yet. Finally, on the main highway, a car’s headlights hit the water, and Christian turned on the wipers. Across the space, he glanced at Tucker, who was rubbing his thigh muscle gingerly as if it was bruised.

Yeah, it was time for Tucker to get his head out of his ass. And Christian intended to do just that—then later replace it with something equally as hard until Tucker screamed with release.

Claire’s uniform felt sticky with the residue of a soda a child had spilled all over her during the lunch rush. While Claire had mopped at the little girl’s mess, the mother had filled her ears with a stream of consciousness outburst about the mess in the house and how her lazy kids and husband didn’t help.

By the time Claire had the mess sopped up, the child was in tears and Claire was ready to toss the soaking cloth in the mother’s lap.

With a sigh, she rubbed a palm over the front of her dress. Her shift couldn’t have ended too soon. Tourists and hunters were demanding and the locals edgy as a result. But she couldn’t have escaped even if she’d wanted, as she’d left the car to Letty. Her aunt was meeting with the church gals to begin preparations for a big hunter’s breakfast that earned their parish a sizable sum.

This morning, Christian had dropped Claire at the diner and instead of turning toward the ranch, he’d headed in the direction of town. Probably the Quickie Mart and two chili dogs, she mused.

She leaned against the open back door of the kitchen and stared across the rolling land. The road swirled through the fields like chocolate through ice cream. Soon that decadent strip of asphalt would bring one of her lovers.

Even as she thought this, Tucker’s yellow truck appeared around a bend. At the sight, she squirmed. He still hadn’t gotten the body fixed after her fury with the baseball bat, and she harbored an extreme amount of guilt over it. A moment of madness that she’d never before allowed to rule her.

And never would again. If Tucker walked away, she’d have to accept it, just as she had these past weeks.

As the truck drew closer, she spotted a smiling face in the passenger’s seat. Her heart did a lazy flip. Christian
and
Tucker come to fetch her. Surely, she was Cinderella being swept up by two rugged princes.

With a suppressed squeal, she bounced across the parking lot to greet them. Christian hopped out before the truck finished its forward roll. “Hey, pretty lady. You need a lift?”

“Why, thank ya, sir.” She planted a foot on the gleaming silver pipe serving as a foothold and launched herself across the leather bench seat. Straight into Tucker’s waiting arms.

He gathered her close, nose buried in her hair. She trembled a little, still unaccustomed to his nearness. The door closed, and at her back, she felt Christian’s heat. It scorched her spine and spread rapid-fire through her limbs. Her pussy throbbed in time to her heart.

Tucker hooked a finger under her jaw and raised her head for a kiss. The hard claim of his lips addled her brain. Christian groaned, his hands roaming over her sides, up to cup her breasts through her sticky dress.

“My turn,” he said roughly.

Tearing his mouth away, breathing hard, Tucker stared into her eyes for a long heartbeat. The things she saw there—passion and wanting, mixed with a question. A hesitancy. Did he believe she’d hurt him?

She skidded a finger over his cheek, avoiding the cut he’d received in a bar brawl the previous night. Boy, had that gotten her daddy riled up. Before he’d pulled out early this morning, her father had hugged her and asked her to rethink the men she had chosen.

Tucker turned her to face Christian. Her other hunky man had one eye swollen shut, but his good eye blazed with love.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He scooped her against his chest and crushed his lips against hers. The dark scents of lust and male infused her brain. Her nipples tightened into pebbles and cream slipped from her folds, readying her pussy for their fingers, mouths and cocks.

She sucked on Christian’s tongue, but he pulled away too quickly for her taste.

“Get movin’.” Christian’s command was nails and gravel washed down with whisky.

Tucker put the truck in gear and they headed down the road with her perfectly squashed between two hard bodies.

“Open up that dress. Get those beautiful titties out,” Tucker said, keeping only one eye on the road.

Christian reached for the buttons of her dress, and she wiggled as he freed each inch of skin. When her bra was visible, Tucker eased a hand into one lace cup and withdrew her breast.

He skimmed the nipple with his callused thumb, drawing a harsh moan from her. Christian pulled her other breast free and together, they plucked at her nipples until she was drenched and writhing.

Christian nibbled her lips, catching her cries. The pressure building in her core was huge. The final release would be of volcanic proportions. She dropped her head back against the seat, eyes closed, and let them have their way.

When Tucker walked his fingers up her inner thigh, she bucked upward.

“We’ve got a wild one here. Better get the rope.” Tucker pulled off the road and cut the engine. But the faint strains of a Taylor Swift song threaded around them, tying them all in a web.

“Got it right here,” Christian said.

She started and opened her eyes to see him pulling a length of rope from the glove compartment. Her eyes widened, and he chuckled. “You liked the rope last time, baby. Remember?”

God, did she.

Tucker stiffened and withdrew his fingers from her thigh. Claire wound an arm around his neck and pulled him down to her lips. When he remained cold to her kisses, she sank her teeth into his lip.

“As long as the stars burn,” Christian muttered against her throat.

Tucker yanked away. “You two seem to have more than a few memories.”

Christian lifted his mouth from her neck and stared across her at Tucker. Tension crackled.

“You’re the one who left. Of course we have a few experiences between us. But what I just said—as long as the stars burn—it means you.”

“It’s our way of keeping you between us, even when you weren’t here,” Claire explained.

Something dark shattered behind Tucker’s bright blue gaze. A sunbeam glaring off the hood of the truck lit his eyes, making them look like two fathomless pools.

And what she saw was love and happiness.

With a quiet noise in her throat, she tugged him to her mouth again. This time, he kissed the hell out of her. Seeking, plying, bruising, driving her up a steep slope toward a desperate pinnacle.

While she kissed Tucker, Christian gathered her wrists before him and looped the smooth hemp around them several times. When he gave a yank to create a knot, her pussy answered with a flood of juices.

Tucker burrowed his fingers beneath her panties and groaned as he found her damp heat. “Fuck, she’s so wet.”

Christian pulled his shirt over his head. She flicked her gaze over his hooded eyes and the amused bracket at the corner of his lips. The cab was close and hot, but she reveled in the sheen of perspiration slicking her skin.

In one smooth move, Christian opened the door and climbed out of the truck. Arms encircled her and she was yanked out into the cooler air. She squirmed against Christian, wanting to get closer, as he took a few steps to the back of the truck. Tucker released the tailgate and after a pause, Christian climbed in with her and spread her on a blanket Tucker had obviously laid there.

Tucker flashed a grin a split second before he popped the elastic band on her panties, breaking the stitching. The cloth fluttered away from her mound, and he spent a second pulling off her shoes, then shimmying the panties down her thighs. Above, clouds wheeled, dizzying her as much as the caress of four hands.

“I want to touch you,” she cooed, flexing the rope binding her.

Tucker grinned—a cocky, I-am-gonna-fucking-rock-your-world grin—and attacked his clothing. In seconds, he was bared to her. Coiled muscles, dips and swells. Faint sprinkling of chest hair glinting in the fading afternoon sun. Hell, even his new piercing flashed, enticing her to run her tongue over it. He still hadn’t explained his reason for getting it.

Claire shot Christian a glance and found him nude as well. At some point, he’d managed to overwhelm her so much she hadn’t realized he’d shed his clothes. He hovered near her. For a moment, his cock and hips filled her vision, larger than life.

She sucked in a breath.

Tucker gained her attention with one forefinger prodding her slick seam. She moaned, immediately on the edge of the precipice. He slid his finger to the crest of her clit and kept going. She followed his finger, dying to have that sensation again.

Gripping her hips, he maneuvered her right where he wanted her. He stretched out in the truck bed and eased her into a straddle. From behind, the tearing of paper sounded. Then Tucker bucked.

She didn’t need to look to realize Christian was slowly rolling a condom over Tucker’s shaft. The lust on his face was enough indication.

When he released a jagged sigh, another rip of paper sounded, and Christian similarly outfitted himself.