The Cowboys and the English Teacher [Hot Off The Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

Pulling back, he’d looked down into her face. Obviously, he had spoken and was waiting for her to answer. Blushing, she asked him what he had said. For the longest time, he just looked without repeating the question. His eyes told her he had seen what she had tried to hide.

His gaze dropped to her lips as she bit on them nervously. Jack’s eyes narrowed and a small hiss escaped his parted lips as he pulled her still closer, ensuring their bodies were in total contact. His cheek rested at her temple and his hands opened fully to clasp her hips firmly, fingers splaying out and grazing the curve of her buttocks. His thighs slid sinuously against Betsy’s with each step and her insides coiled tighter with each movement. Her nipples sprang to life and pressed harder into his chest. He felt it, she knew, as a low groan rumbled from his throat and he flexed his fingers, biting into her skin. The heat at her groin increased and she became very wet.

‘Betsy?’

‘Hmmm?’ She didn’t want to lift her head from its place against his shoulder, but his voice got so insistent that he left her no choice. ‘What’s wrong?’ she said alarmed by his strained expression and how rigid he’d become.

Jack stared over her shoulder in confusion, out into the darkness of the trees surrounding the yard. Betsy turned to follow his gaze, noticing that everyone else looked in the same direction. Even the band had stopped playing, a fact she had missed as she had been clinging to his body. Wyler appeared at her other side and placed a hand on her waist, pulling her closer protectively.

There in the trees stood a boy, no more than nine or ten years old. He wore a straw hat and carried a parasol. His hand rested on his hip as he threw his head back and laughed heartily. Despite the humor in him, his appearance sent a chill down her spine.

‘Brujo Sese,’ she heard someone whisper reverently. Betsy turned toward the sound of the voice and found everyone smiling benevolently at him. Perdita rushed forward, bowing slightly as she approached. ‘Welcome, Brujo. Welcome.’

She ushered him into her yard, clapping her hands together in glee. ‘We are blessed,’ she said to everyone and no-one in particular. ‘Brujo Sese has blessed us.’

The small boy strutted forward, surveying the crowd. His manner was arrogant but friendly, like a royal prince totally used to the adulation his appearance caused. People began to rush forward with gifts—food, cigars, and to her horror, bottles of hard liquor like whisky and rum.

The boy or man took them, filling his pockets with whatever he could not hold in his hands, but not before pulling the top off of a bottle of rum with his teeth and taking a long swallow.

Betsy gasped before she could stop herself, causing many people to turn her way, including Jack.

‘What the fuck?’ he whispered in her direction. She looked at him, reassured that she wasn’t the only one finding the spectacle disturbing. When the child lit a cigar and blew out a large, billowing cloud of blue smoke, she had to put her hands over her mouth to stop herself from calling out.

Perdita appeared behind her.

‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘He is not a boy at this moment. He bears the spirit of the Brujeria.’ She repeated the statement in broken English for Jack and Wyler as she remembered that they spoke only a little Spanish.

‘You mean he’s possessed?’ Betsy asked too loudly, drawing disapproving glares from those close by.

‘That’s a Christian word for it, but yes. You could call it possession.’

‘How long will he be like this?’ Wyler asked.

‘Until the spirit leaves him. There must be a ceremony close by. Brujo Sese is usually one of the first to appear to the congregation. He is known for his love of the good life—music, food, sex.’

‘Sex?’ she squeaked. ‘Perdita, I don’t think he should be—’

The woman laughed, cutting her off midsentence. ‘No. He does not do those things himself. He just loves to see people in love and from time to time, likes to meddle mischievously to make that happen.’

‘Why is he here?’

‘Maybe he sensed he could have some fun. The noise of the party may have drawn him in. Or maybe he knows there are people here who need his help.’ Perdita chuckled again, looking at Wyler then Jack before turning toward the approaching figure of the small boy.

The boy’s gaze fixed on Betsy and she found herself shrinking away from the lewd, knowing look on such a young face. ‘You want him?’ he said in his native tongue, flicking his head toward Jack until he noticed the near mirror image beside him. Thankful they had no idea what the boy had asked. She shook her head quickly.

‘No?’ He laughed. ‘Which one do you dream about then? Or is it both of them?’

Betsy felt the color flooding her face and risked a look at Wyler. His gaze left the boy and swiveled toward her, as if he’d understood the question and was waiting for her answer, too. Dropping his gaze, she took a step away from the taunting look of the possessed child.

‘Oh, yes, you dream about them, Betsy.’

‘You’re a very impertinent little boy,’ she snapped, retreating into teacher mode in the hope he would leave her alone. ‘It’s not polite to speak to your elders about such things.’

Perdita leapt forward, alarmed by the way she had spoken. ‘She means no harm, Brujo. She doesn’t know our ways.’

The boy laughed again, a deep, rich sound that vibrated through Betsy’s ribcage. ‘Hmm, maybe she needs to learn.’

He beckoned her forward with a crooked finger, as if to tell her a confidence. Despite the fact every part of her wanted to resist, she felt compelled to obey. His shiny black eyes drew her closer, forcing her to kneel to bring their faces level. ‘Brujo is powerful,’ he intoned, as if repeating a mantra. ‘He knows what is in your heart.’

The boy stepped back, grinning from ear to ear, and then took a long pull on his cigar before blowing the smoke into her face. It billowed around her, filling her mouth and nostrils with its fumes and forcing her to shut her eyes against the sting. The scent was fragrant rather than rancid and she felt her head get light. When she opened her eyes, he had moved away, leaving her on her knees.

Wyler rushed to help her to her feet. Betsy clasped his hands, allowing him to pull her up, but she didn’t let go when he tried to move away. His gaze flew to hers, showing his surprise at her actions. She used her grip to drag him forward, catching him off balance. His body slammed into Betsy and his instincts forced him to grab her close as she stumbled. She trapped him there by clamping his arms behind her back with her hands, the motion pushing her soft breasts into the hardness of his ribcage.

‘Betsy?’

She could hear the concern in his voice, but for some reason, it didn’t bother her. Betsy looked up into his gorgeous face, at the mouth she had dreamed of and lusted about for weeks, and she licked her lips at the thought of how he would taste and feel. She heard a low groan in his throat and then the reason for the sound as his cock got hard against her abdomen.

She stretched up onto her toes, trying to reach his mouth with her own. Wyler didn’t resist, standing stoically as she flicked her tongue over his bottom lip. Betsy heard him gasp and felt a tremor go through him. Encouraged, she let go of his arms to wind hers around his neck, forcing his head down for the kiss she couldn’t wait any longer to have.

‘Um, Betsy?’ he whispered, bracing his hands against her shoulders and denying her his mouth. ‘Do you think this is really the place?’

Why did he resist? Her brain couldn’t make sense of it. ‘I can’t wait,’ she heard herself moan. ‘I want you so bad, Wyler. I want you inside me….I want you to fuck me,’ she giggled naughtily, delighted with the shocked yet extremely hot look he gave her in answer.

Still, he would not move and began to look around as if trying to escape. Betsy didn’t want his eyes on anything but her. Her hands moved again, sliding down his torso and over the solid muscle of his back, stopping only when she reached his denim clad ass. Her small hands barely covered it and she grabbed as much as she could, using it to force him closer to her as she pressed her tummy into the hard ridge of his erection.

‘Stop,’ he groaned, but it was a weak protest. Betsy knew what he wanted. She pouted and wriggled against him again encouraged by the obvious desire on his face. Suddenly, his hand buried in her hair and he bunched it in his hand to force her head back. His lips met hers in a brutal, crushing kiss meant to be punish her but it only spurred her on more. Her hand left his ass and trailed across his hip to the front of his jeans and flattened on his thigh, about to slide over the bulge of hard denim pressed against her, when he stepped away. ‘Whoa. That’s enough.’

Suddenly, her arms felt cold and empty as she was lifted away from Wyler. Spinning around, she found his brother looking at her with wary eyes. Betsy scanned the crowd and could see many of the party guests turning away with small, indulgent smiles. Why had they been staring at her? It didn’t make sense.

Jack had a hand on his hip and she could feel his gaze boring into hers while he stared at her as if trying to figure her out. She took a step back, looking from one brother to the other until she felt an irresistible urge to turn around. She scanned the trees behind her, but she saw nothing. Then she heard Brujo Sese laugh from somewhere in the darkness.

The sound had the effect of cold water being thrown in her face, and a knot of dread lodged in her chest. What had she been thinking? As if waking from a nightmare, the details of what had just happened crashed through her mind and she felt her insides cringe. What had made her act that way? And how far would she have gone?

The knowledge that she would have thrown either of them to the ground and fucked their brains out in front of anyone who cared to watch made her reluctant to turn around. She was in no hurry to see the look she expected to find on Jack and Wyler’s faces. Betsy could handle their anger or humor but not their shame.

* * * *

Jack watched as Betsy turned around slowly, her eyes fixed to the ground. ‘I…I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know what came over me.’

Jack didn’t know whether to speak, laugh, do something, anything, but he stayed put. Finally, she looked up and turned to Wyler. Jack couldn’t blame her. Wyler had always been the more approachable of them. She tried for humor, as if hoping to take the coldness out of his brother’s gaze. ‘I don’t make a habit of attacking young men.’

His face had set into a hard mask and she looked as if she wanted to hide from the look in his eyes. ‘You’re sorry? Oh, that’s okay then. But what do you suggest I do about this?’ He gestured toward his groin with an angry jerk of his finger. Jack followed the motion and saw he was still rock hard and threatening to burst through his fly. If Wyler wasn’t so furious, Jack might have laughed. ‘Jesus, Betsy. You can’t play with people like this.’

Jack put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Calm down, Wyler. It’s not just her fault. Besides, I didn’t see you fighting her off.’
Too damn right he hadn’t fought her off.
Jack’s hands clenched into fists as he’d watched them. If it weren’t for Betsy’s strange behavior afterward, he’d have punched Wyler for what he did, or rather let her do.

Betsy ignored Jack, shaking her head as she rejected Wyler’s accusation. ‘I wasn’t playing. I don’t know what came over me. That boy—’

Wyler took a step nearer to her, muttering furiously, ‘For weeks I’ve wanted you, but I’ve kept my hands to myself while you played the prim little English teacher. I damn near drove myself crazy thinking about you night after night, unable to sleep for the need to come to you and make you want me just as bad.’

‘I didn’t know.’

‘I don’t believe that. Me and Jack made our interest in you real plain.’ His bitter laugh made Jack feel bad for being so angry at him. The guy was in pain. They both were. ‘What’s up? Don’t you date guys without a college education?’

‘No.’ Her voice rose as she struggled to understand his anger. ‘But the fact is I could never agree to your…proposal. I’m not the kind of woman who goes to bed with two men at the same time.’

Jack got between them, unable to stand by silently while they both acted as if he didn’t exist. ‘You’re confusing the hell out of me, too. If you really believe that, then why were you all over me a few minutes ago when we danced?’ He stepped closer, dropping his voice so low she watched his lips to hear him over the music. ‘The thought of being with both of us didn’t bother you just now.’

‘It does bother me,’ she insisted. His hand grasped her upper arm, and the way it tightened slightly after she spoke warned her that he hadn’t calmed down yet. ‘But it’s not really about that. I would never have embarrassed myself in public that way, whether I wanted you two or not.’

‘So you’re still trying to deny it? After practically eating Wyler alive in the middle of a group of strangers, you’re still playing hard to get.’ He took a step away. ‘Your act is getting tired, Betsy.’

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. ‘Don’t speak to me like that. Who the hell do you think you are?’

He sighed, trying to let go of his anger before he answered, ‘I know who I am and what I want. Can you say the same?’

‘Well, I know I don’t want to be another meaningless conquest that you can both brag to your friends about the next time you have a few beers.’

Jack’s laugh didn’t ease the anger in his chest. ‘I wouldn’t tell that bunch of idiots my last name, never mind what I am up to in my private life.’