RopeMeIn (2 page)

Instead, she shook her head. “Paris and New York were
certainly too big for
me
.”

“How’s that?” He had a good idea, but he wanted her
explanation.

“Too much traffic, too much conflict. Too impersonal. I need
a simpler way of living. Kinder people.”

He hoped she also needed a kinder man. He had three in mind.

“Let me help you.” He grinned at her, giving her a sample of
the gentleness she needed to accept his mastery. Reaching out, he rubbed the
soft terry cloth over that wealth of pale champagne hair.

She pulled away, but not before he got a good feel of the
perfection of her scalp.

Oh yeah, Cara Ford. You might be interested in a man, but
that hubby of yours made you skittish. Not all men who want to dominate a woman
are cruel.

Fingers clenching so as not to seize her right then and
there as if he were a caveman, he stepped backward. “Hold up a minute here.
I’ll go grab something so you can get out of those clothes.”

She snorted as she bent over to dry her long hair before the
fire. “I doubt anything you have will fit me.”

True. What if you wore nothing?
Jed grinned like a
satyr. Taking the far hall to the wing that housed each man’s bedroom plus the
new bigger room for playtime, Jed wondered what the hell to take to her.
Jeans?
No, ours are six inches too tall. The hips too slim to surround those sweet
curves. The asses too flat to cup her firm cheeks.
And their shirts would
drop past her knees. Not exactly useful or warm.
So what’s the plan, man?

Rounding the corner of his own bedroom, he grinned at the
new king-size bed, then stopped in front of his closet. He hitched his hands on
his hips and examined his clothes. Every item that hung inside here was almost
a duplicate of his brothers’ racks. Time-worn Levi’s and tees, chaps, boots, a
few pairs of trousers and starched white shirts. Finally, hand to his bathrobe,
he grabbed the heavy black terry and turned for the kitchen.

When he arrived, he stopped at the threshold. The sight of
her made his cock rise to attention. She looked like an X-rated goddess, petite
compared to their huge Scots MacRae proportions. She was drenched through, her
nipples poking at her white cambric shirt, jeans molded to her small waist, her
face so fair without makeup, her eyes large as if she were a porcelain doll,
her hair wound up in the turban exposing her elegant neck.

And she was staring at her two boxes that sat upon their
circular kitchen table.

As if startled by a glimpse of him, she blinked. “You do
have my shipment.”

“We do,” he assured her in his smoothest come-to-papa voice.
Then he strode toward her. “I brought this for you. It is the only thing I
could find that might work.”

She looked at it as if it were a handful of snakes. “Your
bathrobe doesn’t seem…”

“Decent?” He shrugged. “The only thing I know is that you
have to strip off those wet clothes and get dry and warm or you’ll be down with
pneumonia in a heartbeat.”

She looked skeptical.

“No more arguments.” He put his hands to her shoulders and
turned her toward their newly remodeled bathroom. “Go down the hall to the
bath. First door on the right. Take a shower. A hot one. There’s a hairdryer in
the cabinet. Get warm. Then come back. It’s almost suppertime and we’re having
a beef stew Harry made. And a good cabernet to go with it. You need both.”

She snatched his robe from his fingers, then glowered at
him. “I’m sold on the shower. And your dinner and wine, but I have a bigger
problem.”

“Yeah?”
You’re telling me, baby.
He had to let her
lead him for a while, didn’t he? Just so she’d learn that he was an easy man to
live with. In some things. “What’s that?”

“My pickup truck is dead. The ditch gouged the
undercarriage. And in the back are your packages. I’m afraid, Jed, they must be
soaked through, surely ruined by now. I wanted to bring them to you and
exchange them but—”

“The storm did the rest of the work. I know.” He gave her
hand a consoling squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“Not really,” she said, sounding forlorn. “You took better
care of mine than I did of yours.”

“That’s okay.”
If we three show you we can take good care
of you, you’ll take care of us in ways you could never imagine.
“They can
be replaced.”

“I’d like to compensate you for the damage.”

“Money?” he named the obvious. But what he and his brothers
wanted from her could not be bought. Anywhere. On any market. “We’d never
accept it, Cara.”

“But it’s only fair.”

“You couldn’t predict you’d get caught in a storm.”

“
No, but—”

“You want to make it up to us?” He’d lead her in the
direction he and his brothers needed her to go. Had planned for her to go. Long
before the packages got mixed and the rains came.

“I do. Let me.”

I will.
“Go take that shower. Shampoo too. Get a
clean comb and hairbrush from the linen closet and then come back to drink our
wine and eat dinner with us.”

“I am grateful. My pickup is a wreck. And I’m afraid I can’t
go home until I get a tow truck out here.” She rolled her shoulders in
discomfort as a streak of lightning lit up the room in brilliant flashes. “I
hate asking favors, but if I could stay until the storm passes and I can call
someone to come­­—”

“Stay as long as you want, Cara. We have a guest suite back
through the bathroom.”
We’re ready for you. Have been since Sunday when
Harry bought the soap scented with verbena. Wanted to start out with a slow seduction
of dinner, dancing, movies, whatever makes your heart sing, but you coming to
us makes it easier.
“Plus Harry is a good mechanic. Once the storm passes,
he’ll hitch up the tractor and haul your truck up the road into the maintenance
barn. He’ll take a look.”

“Thank you, Jed. This is wonderful. I hate Texas
rainstorms.” She rubbed her upper arms.

“Unpredictable. What with flooding and lightning, they can
be nightmares.”

“Tornadoes frighten the bejesus out of me. Think this could
become one?”

“No word of that.”

“Weathermen have been known to be wrong.”

“Amen to that. Ever been caught in a twister?”

She nodded. “When I was fifteen, yes. Terrible. Our house
was blown away. It’s why my family moved to Dallas. But maybe it won’t get that
bad today.”

“You’re safe here. This house is solid stone. Hasn’t moved
an inch in forty years.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking relieved. “One thing though. I
do need to call my Aunt Bree and tell her where I am. She’ll worry, I know, but
my cell phone has no service in this mess. Do you­—”

“Sorry.” He gave her a consoling smile. “Last time I
checked, the landlines were out too.”

Now she looked truly scared, her eyes darting around the
brightly lit kitchen. “But your lights?”

He zeroed in on her tight facial expression. “We have our
own generator for the ranch. No worries.”

“Oh good.” She visibly relaxed.

“Go.” He pointed toward the bathroom he knew she would love.
He beamed at her and at the set of circumstances that put her where she was
meant to be long before the plans to bring her here. “You need to strip and
bring me those clothes for the washer and dryer.”

“You men cook, clean and do laundry?” She chuckled. “A
woman’s dream.”

“We do for ourselves. Always have since our parents passed.
Now get in there so you can come be the center of attention at our table. We
don’t often have a beautiful woman to dinner.”

Chapter Two

The bathroom, like the kitchen, had recently been updated.
Cara stood in the center of the spacious room, noting the ivory and gold
travertine stone tile on the walls and the subtle pink glow of recessed
lighting in the ceiling. Beneath her feet, even in her clammy boots, she could
feel the comfort of the radiant heat reaching up to her from the floor tiles.
But her heart pounded at the sight of the huge circular tub with Jacuzzi jets
that sat in the center of the floor two steps up on a dais. One person could
almost swim in its expanse. A tinge of excitement zinged up her spine at the
idea that the tub was meant for more than one.

She tore her gaze to the far wall, which was, in its
entirety, a glass-enclosed walk-in shower. Jets sprang from the tiles mounted
at various heights and angles to spray a bather over every curve and plane.
Like the tub, numerous people could fit into that space and wash together. The
idea sent shivers of excitement from her skin deep inside to her pussy. What if
the MacRaes’ offer to Skylar of a multiple had not been a whim, but one of
their regular practices?

What would it take to have one of these men offer that to
me?

I’d grab the opportunity.

Right. And you need your head examined. How would you
know what went where with three men in bed with you?

Oh for the chance to learn!

She snorted. Rueful at the remote possibility she’d get an
invitation, she glanced at the white fluffy bath towels piled everywhere along
the edge of the tub, on a huge white linen chaise longue and on the wall-length
counter with four sinks. She lifted her nose to inhale the heady bouquet in the
air. Picking up one of the creamy bars of soap, she blinked. They were scented
with verbena and roses. Her favorite fragrances.

How uncanny was that?

She would not question it though. How could she when she
felt as though she was in some fresh, luxurious heaven?

Enjoy your good fortune.

Okay, why not. She sat in the wide chaise longue that could
certainly hold two and quickly tugged off her wet boots and socks. She stood,
not wishing to wet down the beautiful upholstery on the chaise more than she
had. Then she went after the rest of her clothes. Peeling off her jeans and
shirt, she struggled with the tiny clasp of her French demi-bra, then slithered
out of her silk panties. At once she caught the picture of herself in the
full-length mirrors that lined the third and fourth walls of the bath. Her
cheeks were flushed. Her nipples hard. Her mind running around in circles,
seeing herself with Jed, naked, plastered to him here in this beautiful room.
Charming
Jed MacRae is to blame for that, of course.
He could raise any girl’s
color. The way he looked at her was nerve tingling.
Like he is going to have
me for supper instead of Harry’s stew.
She felt a swelling in her poor
neglected pussy.

I could get used to a man running his eyes over me as if
I were his prize.

Stop that.
That kind of affair is for novels. Not the
real world.

Seriously. What would I do with a man like that?

Take him to bed.

A man who was used to control? That didn’t work out so
well the last time you found a man who demanded he lead in bed and every other
aspect of your lives.

There were reasons for that. Cara knew them as her own
personal litany of woes. Jeff had deliberately covered his basic nature,
misjudging her, perceiving her to be easily led.

“Malleable,” he had said, laughing and announcing how he
found the trait “useful”. That revelation he delivered on their first wedding
anniversary. By then, Cara had already spent sleepless nights sorting out why
she had ever thought she loved this petty, self-aggrandizing creature. Downing
the last of her wine, she rose from her seat in the restaurant on the Rue de
Faubourg and poured the water pitcher over him. As he cursed, water dripping
indelicately from his nose, Cara took a taxi to their apartment, packed and
left him.

The MacRae brothers were nothing like Jeffrey Montfort.
Thank god. They were rough and ready men in chaps and boots, not corporate
raiders in undertaker suits. The MacRaes were ranchers who wrestled earth and
stone and water to raise cattle and horses. They were not manipulators of
stocks and bonds or leveraged assets. They worked the land, not mythic mounds
of cash. The MacRaes were the salt of the earth types who Cara remembered from
her childhood for their grit and their humor. They were the kind of men she
wanted to live among.

So what if Jed and his brothers were known as jungle cats,
bedding whomever they pleased? Her cousin Joel had told her that they were
looking for the right women to marry. According to the townsfolk, the three
MacRaes had shopped for mates all over the Hill Country, even north to Dallas.
The upshot was they came home empty-handed, though they spread their fame as
demanding and energetic lovers to all they favored with a roll in the hay.
Nothing wrong with that. A lot right with it, in fact.

What I wouldn’t give to try each of them out.

She jumped, recalling a friend of hers in Paris who lived
with two men and took them as lovers, all three of them together. The concept
had shocked Cara, but titillated her too. Yet the reason she envied her friend
most was that her lovers were tender with her, kind and mature about their arrangement.
Jealous rages, declared her friend, never occurred.

Cara imagined herself as her friend in bed with three men.
She stared at her reflection, dreamt of Jed MacRae’s heavy-lidded jade eyes and
saw what thoughts of him did to her body. Her pink nipples were now as hard as
stone, aching with need. Her pussy was flooding. Her knees, wobbly. She brushed
her fingers over her plump mound. She kept it freshly waxed and bare, just the
way she liked it, making it easy for her to try on lingerie she considered
buying for her new store. But her pussy was also bare so that she could easily
pleasure herself. Watch herself delve inside, feel her own heat and bring down
her own juice. She could get off on a fantasy. Had done it so often this past
year since her divorce that she was an expert at what she wanted…
no
,
craved
to come quickly.

Who needs a man?

She shivered at the image of having Jed MacRae on his knees
before her here, eating her demanding cunt. Licking her. Laving her. Making her
swollen and red. Wanting him because he was a gentle lover, responding to him
because he was careful and inspired to be ardent with her. She pulsed to that
fantasy.

She parted her thick labia and admired her scarlet hot
channel in the sumptuous mirror. Then she found her clit and tapped it.

She trembled with anticipated joy.

What the hell.
Giving in to the urge to make herself
come, she twirled her fingertip over the top of her quickly turgid clit. She
gasped, pinching her tight little button and moaning when she realized she still
pictured Jed doing this, biting her bud, scraping his rough tongue over her nub
and sucking on her fat, juicy labia.

She walked forward to the mirror, tipped up her hips and
inserted a finger in her channel. Oh god, she loved coming. For herself, by herself.
She was never, ever disappointed, always so damn fucking pleased with her own
care of herself. Jeff had never satisfied her.

She went after her climax as if she were a devoted libertine
then, stroking and petting her clit, driving her fingers as much as she could,
up inside her pussy and loving the silken sounds of how much cream she could
make for herself. In a minute, she was on the edge—filled, swollen, pounding
and thrown over the precipice into momentary bliss.

If it was too short, if it was too lonely, she didn’t dwell
on that. She couldn’t afford it. She’d once given her heart to a man who used
it and threw it away. She vowed she’d never give another man the chance to
control her like that.

No sir.
She strode into the lavish shower. Instantly,
automatically, four of the jets turned on. Just at the height of her nipples.
Great fun! Three others were just at the height to hit her labia, which she
promptly opened to let the water release any lagging desire from her pussy. She
stood in the shower for god knew how long, refreshed and ready to enjoy her
evening with three men who had rescued her and now would feed her. But as for
sex?

I don’t need a man to satisfy me. As for taking a MacRae?
That might be more trouble than the sex would be worth.

* * * * *

Jed could hear Harry and Will stomping up the covered back
porch, their boots dropping on the wooden floorboards as they removed them so
as not to track mud and water inside. Harry opened the kitchen door and came in
first, his straight black hair bound back at the nape in a string of Comanche
rawhide. Will, broader, built like a heavyweight wrestler, was right behind.

“Hey,” Harry greeted Jed, his pale blue eyes scanning the
kitchen for Cara. “How we doing here?”

“Good.” Jed nodded toward their new bathroom, then continued
to set the table for dinner. “Getting showered and changed. Slow and easy does
it.”

“Does she have any ideas of what we had planned for her?”
Will asked Jed, skeptical after years of looking for a woman to bed and wed
that any one female could satisfy his hunger for lusty sex.

Jed chuckled at his youngest sibling. “Not yet. Let her
learn us slowly. We researched her well.”

“Yeah. With a helper she might not thank if she ever finds
out.” Will nodded.

Jed agreed. “We’ll cross that bridge if we ever come to it.”

Will smacked his lips. “She is even sweeter up close and
personal. I’d hate to blow this to hell now that she’s here. Good thinking to
keep her box and hope she’d deliver ours.”

“She’s intrigued, for sure,” Harry confirmed. “But shy.”

“It’s not like we have no experience courting women,” Will
pointed out.

Harry stared at him deadpan. “Ya think? Seems in the last
few years all we found were the ones who’d slept around so much, they’d catch
fire if they didn’t sweat.”

Will took a glass from a cabinet and filled it with water.
“Remember the one in Dallas who turned out to be a professional roller derby
gal?” He took a long drink as the other two groaned. “Hell in high heels. Mean
as a bobcat.”

“Her IQ equaled her bra size,” Harry confirmed. “My personal
fave was the conniving redhead in Waco who hustled us all the time to shoot
pool before she let us take her to the private room and play with her. Lost two
months’ wages to her.”

Will choked on laughter. “Look at it this way. She inspired
you to improve your game.”

“Not judging my women by their hair color any longer, am I?
No. ’Nuf said.”

Will scowled. “I want a woman who’s real. No three-dollar
wigs or false teeth.”

Harry grimaced. “None were that bad.”

“No, but you get me.”

Jed crossed his arms. “So yeah, we went hunting in the wrong
places and came home sorry. We wised up. Looked in our own backyard. Checked
first for character.”

“We’ve still got work to do. Cara’s been abused,” Will said
with disgust. “Her asshole husband used his mouth on her and that’s a heavy
load to take from her.”

“Underneath, she’s right as rain,” Jed declared. “Needs a
little gentling, that’s all.”

“So we’ll give her a hand up,” Will said.

“Hmm.” Harry widened his eyes. “Maybe more than a hand.”

“She’s got some spunk and sass to her all right,” Jed
acknowledged. “And she might not be a natural submissive.”

“Fine by me,” Will retorted. “But with her interest in
lingerie and the way she lights up around us, I’d say she’s up for sex with
boys and toys. She’s got an eye for
us
. So maybe we can help her out of
her funk after Mister Ball and Chain. Not knowing anything finer existed, she
let her instinct lead her to get hitched to the wrong kind of fencepost.”

Harry frowned at the hallway toward the bath. “Hope to god we
can change that.”

Jed smiled. “If you have patience with her, Harry, and Will,
if you can show her some of that Jolly Green Giant brawn, we’ll light her
fire.”

Harry elbowed his brother. “Right. Let’s get cleaned up so
we can show her what gentlemen can do for her. And you,” he
tsked
at
Jed, “stop being housemother here. Go get yourself all bright and sparkly. I
want to sit down and get to know her in the best circumstances.”

“I’ll go. But you two need to have some time with her alone.
I’ve already made my impression. Laid the groundwork for us. But I told you,
I’ll not make first claim on her just because I’m the oldest. Or the first to
have some regular time with her.”

Will slicked back his unruly black curls and laughed for the
first time in months. “If we get this right, we’ll each get a chance to show
her how good we can be.”

Harry grinned. “Then we’ll go for the gold.”

Jed agreed. “Get a move on. She’s here for the duration of
the storm. If it stops any time soon, we’ve lost the best chance to show her
we’re human.”

“And if it lasts all night?” Harry waggled his slashing
black brows in anticipation. “We might have a strong chance to entertain her
for more than supper.”

“Hope, as Ma used to say, springs eternal,” Jed told him.
“Go!”

The two men cast a glance in the direction of their new
bathroom, then turned for their respective bedrooms. Each new room had an en
suite bath, smaller but similar to the big one they had designed to share with
one perfect woman.

They had made an agreement when they hatched this plan to
find a lover who pleased them, physically and emotionally. No one brother would
be any more important than the others. If this was to work, the woman they
courted to become their lover had to see each man for himself, each one equal
to the others, each one unique and valuable. Each man a brother who loved his
other two, and needed one terrific woman to make them all happy together.