Mountain Delights (Wild Mountain Men 2) - Page 2

Were people expecting him to sell his ranch and get the hell out of Dodge because of what his father had done? From what I knew, the ranch was huge, extending not only across the prairie I could see, bu

t up into the mountains beyond. Lucas ran his non-profit from the property, he and Cy organizing and taking veterans with PTSD on backcountry trips.

“Definitely not.”

“What are you then?”

I glanced down at my worn leather boots, then lifted my gaze to meet his, took another few steps toward him. He didn’t raise his weapon, so I felt pretty confident he wasn’t going to shoot a woman.

“I’m a professional skier. Maybe.” I gave a negligent shrug and murmured the last, more for me than for him. “Look, I’m—”

“Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any.” Clearly, he hadn’t listened to a word I said. “Get the hell off my land.” He turned on his heel to head back inside.

“Wait!” I called. This was sooo not going as I’d imagined. I’d get out of the SUV, smile at him, bat my eyelashes and tell him his friend Lucas Mills and I were together—and fucking—and we wanted to pull him in on a little fun. A lot of fun.

One of my fantasies was two dicks. A threesome with a whole bunch of orgasms to go around. And Lucas had said that Cy was pretty dominant in the bedroom, which was exactly what I’d been hoping for. Lucas was total alpha male, but he didn’t push me, and I needed to be pushed. I wasn’t on the slopes and missed that, god, focus I got with that kind of intensity.

I didn’t do anything halfway. I didn’t win ski championships by lacking confidence. Not in my career and not in my sex life. I knew what I wanted and went for it. And I wanted Lucas… and Cy.

Lucas and I hadn’t talked long term. We’d been having fun. With his PTSD, which had woken him up from a nightmare more than once, it seemed he hadn’t wanted to commit. Or at least say the words. We’d both been content with just fun. But we had agreed something had been missing. And that something was a someone.

But Cy didn’t want to hear it. Lucas should be here to back me up—he was as game to double team me—and I’d get a double shot of hot cowboy. Okay, so Lucas wasn’t here yet. I looked over my shoulder down the drive. Yeah, no Lucas. But I could still charm the pants off Cy in the meantime, couldn’t I?

Well… I had on a sexy red panty and bra set, but unless he had x-ray vision, he wouldn’t know since I was practically covered head to toe in jeans, a black turtleneck and a light puffy jacket. I barely had any skin showing, let alone cleavage or midriff. October in Montana wasn’t the time to do a strip tease outside. With a strong wind coming down off the mountains, it had to be in the low forties, even with the sun shining. It wasn’t just the hottie in front of me that had my nipples hard.

“Lucas sent me,” I called, hoping that would cool his jets.

That had him turning back. From this distance, I could see his eyes were as dark as his hair. Piercing. Penetrating. As for penetrating, I looked him over, took in the thick outline of his dick in his well-worn jeans. That was what I wanted. He could eye fuck me, but a dick fuck would be a whole lot better.

“Why the hell would he do that?”

I swallowed. Hard. This was what I wanted. Two men to make me forget, to make me happy. I’d shared the fantasy with Lucas, and he was more than willing to fulfill it. If he’d just show the hell up. It was literally time to put up or shut up. I could go down a steep, snowy mountain on two pieces of elastomer ninety-five millimeters wide at over eighty miles an hour without flinching. Telling Cyrus Seaborn I wanted to take his dick for a ride shouldn’t be all that hard.

“So you’ll fuck me.”

2

CY

“What did you say?”

I thought she said she wanted me to fuck her. I didn’t have a problem with that. In fact, my dick was thrilled with the idea.

This mystery woman was stunning. Not the typical city slicker looking for a story, she looked Montana born and bred. She was tall, probably five-ten. Sturdy like she didn’t eat salads for every meal. Her blonde hair was long down her back, straight but thick, and strands caught the wind to blow across her face. She tucked them back without any kind of finesse. It was hard to tell the extent of her curves in her outfit—while her jeans were snug and showed off toned legs that went on for days, her black turtleneck and gray jacket hid a lot, like whether her tits were a handful or full peaks like the Tetons in Wyoming were named for—but I itched to strip her bare and learn every sexy inch of her.

She wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense. She wore no makeup and her approach was no-nonsense. Downright bold as fuck. Hell, at The Gallows on Main Street, I’d been approached by women interested in a little fun on more than one occasion, but I’d never had one come to my front door.

“I said I want to fuck you.” Her voice was louder. Even.

Yeah, I’d heard her right. Why would she want to fuck me? With her looks and straightforward demeanor, she didn’t need an asshole like me, nor did she need to drive fifteen miles out of town to do it. Not with a guy who didn’t want to deal with people since his dad’s… fiasco, who was turning into a fucking hermit. Hell, who had a dad like his.

Oh shit. She said Lucas sent her.

Was she some kind of gift to get me out of my funk? Of course, she was. What better way to make me forget all the fuckery that had happened than to sink into some hot pussy? And with her? Hell, yes. I could keep myself occupied for hours. Days, even. There were so many ways I could take her I wouldn’t be satisfied for a long, long time.

I had no problem with this woman leading me around by the balls for a while, and with that bold stance of hers, she’d do it with a reddened ass. She might be in control now, but not for long.

I’d known Lucas for years, and I wouldn’t put it past him to try to get me back out there. My father—if he could be called that—had fucked me over once when he abandoned me and my mom when I was nine. I hadn’t seen his face since. Until last month, when he’d fucked me over again. He’d turned himself in, admitted to murder. Within days, it was discovered he’d lied. He’d been released, then went into hiding. I’d heard from news reports he’d hunkered down in his shitty little house an hour south of town and hadn’t come out.

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