Rye could feel his hands trembling as Rachel leaned back, and Max spread her legs. Her head fell backward. All that lovely hair was spread out on the bed like a strawberry blonde waterfall. Max was on his belly with his face between her thighs. He breathed in the scent of her soaking wet pussy and then swiped at it with his tongue.

“Oh, god, Max,” she sighed. Her lips parted as Max settled in. She looked down her body to stare at Max with those big green eyes.

Rye watched silently as his brother licked Rachel from her labia all the way to her throbbing clit. From his vantage point, he could see that her clit was an engorged jewel just waiting to explode. It was beautiful to Rye. Her pussy was bare and soft. It was perfectly plump and juicy.

“You taste so fucking good.” Max groaned and proceeded to show her how much he liked her taste. His tongue swirled all around her pussy. He parted the labia with his fingers. He licked long strokes against her. Even from where he was standing, Rye could tell his brother’s face was getting coated in her juices.

Rachel was in ecstasy. He loved the sounds she made as she moved toward orgasm. Her lovely chest was heaving. Rye could see her pink-and-brown nipples were tight and ready for some man to come along and suck them like the sweet berries they were. He wanted to be that man. He would lick her nipples and pull them one after the other into his greedy mouth. He would suck them until she couldn’t take it anymore. He would give her the bare edge of his teeth. He knew exactly how much to bite down so the little pain bloomed into pleasure. Between his mouth on her breasts and Max’s tongue fucking her pussy, Rachel wouldn’t be able to hold off her orgasm. It would overwhelm her. She would come all over Max’s mouth, and then, oh, then it would be their turn. Then they would take their scrumptious lover and fill her up with their cocks.

She would be so small between them. He would press against her back and push her down onto Max’s hard cock. Max would curse because he wanted to fuck, but he’d hold off and wait for Rye. Rye would gently work the lube into the rosette of her ass. His fingers would go first. He would marvel at how tight she was going to be, and his cock would strain. By the time he pushed into that hot little hole, he would be ready to explode.

“Rye.” His name sounded like a plea on her lips. “Ryan, come here.”

There was no question of refusing her. He moved forward, his hand on his cock. He hadn’t realized he’d been stroking himself while he watched his brother and Rachel. Max never even looked up from his place at Rachel’s pussy. He simply ate her pussy like there was nothing else in the whole world.

“Yes, baby?” Rye would give her anything she wanted. His voice was husky. His hand stroked up and down his engorged cock.

“I want to taste you.”

He shuddered.

“Ryan, fuck my mouth.”

He nodded because there was no way he would deny her. He straddled her chest. The cheeks of his ass caressed her perfect breasts. Her hands came up to cup his rear, and he hissed when she lightly dug in her nails.

“You’re mine, Rye,” she said with purpose. Her eyes were intense on him. “You’re mine, and Max is mine, too.”

“Yes,” Rye heard himself saying as he lined up his throbbing dick with her lush mouth. Her lips teased the tip. “We’re yours. We belong to you, baby. We belong together.”

She sucked him inside, and Rye knew he’d found heaven.

 

 

Rye woke up with a start. He looked down at the sheets and cursed profusely.

“This is fucking insane,” he bitched as he wiped his semen-covered hand across the sheet. He would have to wash it again. It was the third time this week he’d ruined the sheets on his bed. He’d had more wet dreams since Max had come home from the hospital than he’d had in all of his teen years.

Rye shook his head and headed for the bathroom down the hall. There still wasn’t any hot water, but he didn’t need it. He might never need it again the way he was going. Cold water was his friend. He might never take another hot shower again. He changed out of his ruined boxers into a fresh pair. He’d done three loads of his own laundry this week. Rachel was going to think he was a laundry freak. He opened the door and started down the hall to the bathroom.

“Good morning.” Rachel stood waiting for him in the hallway.

Any way he turned she was right there—a delicious treat tempting him in every fucking way.

Just like that, his dick was back at full attention. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of Max’s boxers. They were too big and rode low on her hips, leaving a strip of perfect skin exposed. She was soft and sexy in the morning, her hair curling above her breasts. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.

It was all Rye could do to not cup himself and run away. He hoped she didn’t notice his painful condition.

“Hey, you’re up. I’m making breakfast for the three of us.” She had a ridiculously bright smile on her face. She lit up his whole fucking world. “It’s pancakes and sausage. Max’s favorite.” She touched the middle of his chest. “Tomorrow, it’s your turn. I promise to make French toast, bacon, and grits. How does that sound?”

He clenched his jaw and forced himself to be polite. He did not, in any way, give any indication of what he truly wanted to do. He wanted to drag her back to the bed, spread her legs, and relieve the ache in his groin. Then he would be satisfied with “his turn.” “Yes, that sounds nice. Thank you very much.”

She bounced a little. He’d noticed that about her. She was always moving. She had more energy than anyone he knew. She couldn’t stand still. She bounced, and the bouncing made her tits wiggle. It made him notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra and it was chilly. He was going to throw himself off the roof, maybe figure out a way to drown himself in the pond or let the horses pummel him to death. It would be an easier end than the death by sexual frustration he was going to suffer from Rachel.

“Good.” She sounded relieved. “I don’t want to leave you out. Now, I have to go back to work today. Stella’s at the end of her rope. Can you handle the beast?”

He snorted. That was one task he could manage. “I’ve been handling him since we were born. I think we’ll be okay.”

“If he gives you any trouble, let me know.” She put one hand on her hip, and he loved the sassy sound of her voice. “We’ve come to an arrangement, Max and I. He behaves, and I don’t dump food on his head.”

He laughed, genuinely amused at the antics of his brother’s woman. The hospital had been more than happy to release Max as soon as he could physically handle walking out the door. He was a beast when he was sick. The nurses had been ready to sedate him a few minutes after he’d become conscious. Even Brooke had conceded that he probably deserved it. Only Rachel could placate him.

And she had taken care of him. She’d been the most patient nurse Max could have hoped for. She’d followed the doctor’s orders to the letter. She made sure Max took his prescriptions and stayed in bed for the first few days. Unfortunately, even the most patient of women have their breaking point. When Max complained about the soup she made, Rachel calmly dumped it over his head and told him to go to hell. Rye smiled, remembering the incident. He’d eaten the soup Rachel gave him, though it had been lacking salt, and declared the meal delicious. Max, after cleaning up, had eaten a bowl himself. He then politely thanked the chef. Rye knew Rachel was discovering the trick to handling Max. Max needed firm, nonnegotiable boundaries. Once they were set, Max knew how to behave. Max had been a perfect angel ever since.

Well, he was perfect around Rachel. He was crabby around his own brother. He understood why. Max wasn’t used to being laid up. He was used to working hard every day for at least ten hours. Rachel was forcing him to stay off his feet, and it was killing Max. Today was the first day he was allowed to be back on a horse. He also suspected Max was having some of the same trouble Rye was experiencing. Rachel was worried that Max was too fragile for sex. Of course, at least Max had hope of getting some. Rye was hopeless.

“I’ll make sure he takes it easy.” He didn’t want her to worry about Max all day. His breath caught at the way her eyes gleamed in the early morning light. He would be able to handle the close contact with her if it was all simple lust. The trouble was he was falling more and more in love with her every day.

Living with her, being close to her and watching what a truly strong and amazing woman she was, had made him more and more sure she was the right woman. The right one for them.

She looked wistful. “I wish I could stay, but Stella needs me. I’ve been off for almost a week, and Jen is getting tired of pulling doubles. I think she’s looking forward to only working the dinner shift. Stella promised she’d bring in another girl soon.”

“Why do you have to go back to work at all?” He hated the thought of her being on her feet for ten hours. He loved that diner, but the women there worked damn hard. He’d seen how tired Rachel could be after a shift. “You have to know Max would support you, sweetheart.”

He would, too. He would just be quiet about it. He already intended to send Callie off to buy her some clothes. She barely had enough to make it through a week. Rye was planning on “finding” some old clothes Brooke had left behind and offering them to Rachel. He would have to remind himself to make sure he took the tags off first.

“I know. Trust me, I’ve heard the lecture. Would it surprise you to know that I like to have my own money? I don’t mind working. I like the diner. It’s fun to talk to everyone. I’m not cut out to be a live-in girlfriend.” She leaned forward. “I’ve been thinking about getting a place in town. Jen says she has an extra bed, and Stefan told me his guesthouse is free. It would solve a lot of our problems. I’m thinking about it. Jen’s place is super small but it’s right over Stella’s. I’m leaning toward Stef’s though. It’s an actual room of my own.”

He felt his body go rigid. He had a sudden and extreme need to beat the shit out of his closest friend. He knew what Stef kept in the guesthouse. Stef kept his playroom in the guesthouse. It was where he housed his submissives. If Stefan thought for one second he could take Rachel in and begin training her, he would have to think again.

“I’ll have a conversation with Stefan about that,” Rye heard himself say. It came out more threatening than he’d intended. He consciously softened his stance and his voice. “I think you should stay here.”

Her green eyes were guileless. “I will for as long as Max needs me. Then I think I should get my own place. I know this has been rough on you. The last thing you need is your brother’s girl hanging around all the time.”

“I love having you here.” He did. He just wished they were together.

She turned, and he caught sight of her perky ass encased in cotton boxers. It made his mouth water. “I think you love having me cook,” she said with a shrug. “See you at breakfast.”

He watched her walk toward the kitchen and heard Max’s low greeting.

“Morning, gorgeous,” his brother said. Rye knew he was kissing her.

He walked into the bathroom, his mind on the problem of Rachel Swift. He loved having her around. He turned on the shower. With Max injured, there had been no question of Rye staying with friends. He’d been needed desperately at home. He’d taken some time off to take care of the stables while Max was down. A few of the local law enforcement officers had taken shifts to ensure the town had coverage. Working with horses again made him think about making a permanent change. He’d taken the job as sheriff because, at the time, they’d needed a steady income. Brooke had still been in high school, and money had been tight. Rye had known he was the one who could hold down a job without being murdered by his coworkers, so he’d taken one for the team. He’d started as a deputy. When the old sheriff had retired, Rye had easily been voted into office. No one else wanted the job. But his real love was working with horses, like Max did every day. The stables paid now. Harper Stables had an excellent reputation, and more work was coming in every day. If Rye quit, he could help Max and teach riding lessons. There was a whole part of the business they’d neglected because it wasn’t something Max was good at. He wanted to work with his brother again.

He wanted to live here with Max and Rachel, too. The last week had proven that to him. Every evening they had dinner together. Max sat across from Rye, and Rachel sat happily in the middle. She was in the middle of everything. When they sat down to watch television, Rachel plopped down between them like she belonged there. When they went out, she sat in the middle of the long bench seat of Max’s vintage Ford truck. She insisted on the three of them doing things together. They’d watched movies, played games, and talked about everything under the sun. She’d made it easy for him to almost believe he was a part of this little family she and Max seemed to be forming.

What if she could handle a ménage? What if she wants it?

He stepped under the cool water and cursed. He was hard again, and the water wasn’t helping. He wrapped his hand around his dick and started to brush his thumb over the head. He was going to go blind. He just knew he was.

 

* * * *

 

Max’s hands slid down to cup his girlfriend’s perfect cheeks. He pulled her close and didn’t try to disguise the erection he was sporting. It had been days since he’d gotten inside her. It was starting to make him crazy.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he breathed as he leaned down to slant his mouth across hers.

Rachel softened against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t protest as his tongue swept in to play with hers. He hauled her up so her feet were dangling. It was the only way to get her pussy where he wanted it. He rubbed himself against her. He knew it made him a caveman, but he wanted to mark her as his. He wanted her to get a tattoo on that perfect ass of hers that read Property of the Harper Brothers.

Max set her down. His brain went there all the time now. He couldn’t stop thinking about Rachel between him and Rye. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and sausage,” she replied with a suspicious gleam in her eyes.

He kissed her forehead gently and went to sit down at the kitchen table. He was very careful since she was studying him like she was trying to guess what he would do next. He didn’t want her to figure out what he was thinking. He had more than one thing he needed to hide from her today. He schooled his features to express nothing but innocence.

“Oh, god, what are you thinking?” Rachel looked utterly horrified. “Who are you going to kill?”

“What?” Max asked, holding his hands up in confusion.

She rounded the table and leaned over. He couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing a bra. If he leaned in a bit, he could see the curve of her breasts and the faintest hint of nipple.

“Eyes up, mister,” she ordered in what he’d come to think of as her “drill sergeant” voice. His eyes obediently came up. He’d learned when it was in his best interests to obey her immediately. His baby was one tough cookie, and he was man enough to admit he needed her to be that way. He would walk all over her otherwise. That would make for one boring relationship. Rachel kept him on his toes.

“Sorry, baby.” He would try to distract her with charm. He had some of that. He smiled and pulled her hand into his. He tugged her down onto his lap. “I can’t help it. I get distracted by your breasts. They’re pretty. And I’m really, really horny. We haven’t had sex in days. It’s killing me.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Her arms went around his neck. “You just had surgery. You haven’t even had the stitches out yet. The doctor said we should wait a few days.”

“It’s been almost a week.” He put a little whine in his voice. Maybe if she thought he was simply horny, she would forget her suspicions. It was imperative that she not figure out what he had done after she’d gone to sleep. “I promise I could be super still. I would lie there, and you could do all the work.”

She grinned. It did strange things to his heart. “That sounds tempting. I’ll call the doctor today, and I’ll see if we can get him to let you off the leash.”

She kissed his cheek. She got up and went to the stove, where she poured out pancake batter. Max relaxed.

She rounded on him suddenly. “You’re sure you’re not planning something terrible?”

She knew him far too well. He grimaced inwardly. This was where Rye would come in handy. Rye could distract her. Rachel was far too much woman for one man. He needed his brother because Max had figured out that a tag team approach was required when Rachel got saucy. But he was all on his own now. He didn’t like the feeling.

“Baby, I’m planning on doing some light work around the barn. I’m going to spend some time with Sunflower, and then I’ll have Rye drive me into Del Norte for my checkup. That’s my plan.” It was true. It was part of his plan. He didn’t mention the stop he intended to make.

Her eyes narrowed, and he wondered briefly if she could make that spatula into a weapon. He thought she probably could. Max sighed. He could make it into one, too. He could pull her over his lap and shove those boxers off her hips, then spank that pert rear. He wouldn’t hurt her. He’d simply get her bottom all pink and pretty. He’d rather use his hand, though.

“You have crazy eyes today, Max. What did you just think?” she asked breathlessly.

Rye stood in the doorway. He had on jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was still wet from his shower. “He was wondering how you would handle it if he pulled you across his lap and spanked you with your spatula. You should use your hand, Max. It would be better.”

Rachel’s mouth fell open. She looked between the two of them like she was trying to figure out what to say.

Max pointed at Rye. “He said it.”

Rye shrugged. “He was thinking it.”

“So were you.”

Rye’s face fell. Max saw him look down at the crotch of his jeans. “Damn it.”

Rye turned and walked back down the hall. Max knew exactly where he was going.

“What’s wrong with him?” She looked concerned as his brother marched off.

Max smiled broadly. Rye had done his job. She wasn’t thinking about his potential plans anymore. She set a plate in front of him.

“I guess he’s not hungry,” Max lied.

His brother was hungry, all right. He’d been hungry since the minute he laid eyes on Rachel. Max didn’t blame him. He had been lucky to see her first or he might be the one spending an awful lot of time in the bathroom. He started to dig into his breakfast. The thing was, he was starting to believe this whole thing could work. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was getting brighter every day. The last week had been a bit of a revelation. Rachel had been perfectly comfortable with Rye. She seemed to enjoy being with both of them.

That was the trick. Getting her comfortable being at the center of their ménage would change everything. Once she realized that they intended to worship the ground she walked on, the sex would be easy. She was beginning to see that no one in Bliss would look down on her for being involved with two men. Once Rachel realized she would be accepted, and that they loved her, she would understand that it was okay to love them both back. Max knew he and Rye could make it so good for her that she would wonder why she hadn’t had two men before. She wouldn’t want to go back.

A sense of contentment took root. He had a plan. He’d formulated it during the long hours he’d been forced to stay in bed. After he’d woken up in the hospital, he’d known exactly what he wanted out of life. He wanted everything, and he wasn’t willing to compromise. He wanted Rachel to marry him and Rye. He wanted her to have their children. He wanted happily ever after for all three of them. He would have to be ruthless and purposeful to get what he wanted. Part of his plan was figuring out what Rachel was running from. In all the discussions the three of them had indulged in over the last week, she’d been silent on the subject.

Max munched thoughtfully on his sausage as he watched his woman swaying to some music she heard in her head while she flipped pancakes for Rye’s breakfast.

Last night, while she’d slept peacefully in their big bed, he’d slipped away. He’d moved quietly through the house and out to her car. She’d been living in it. It only made sense that she kept her secrets there. After thoroughly going over every inch of the old Jeep, he’d found a seam in the floorboard. The items she kept in that hidey-hole had simply brought up more questions.

He’d found her pitiful stash of cash. She’d saved three hundred dollars from her tips, and there was a check she hadn’t cashed yet for another three hundred and fifty dollars. It was the sum of her wealth. Max’s heart seized at the thought of her having so little to her name.

Which wasn’t Rachel Swift. Elizabeth Courtney or Shannon Matthews was her real name. He’d found identification with both of those names in an envelope. Max wasn’t sure which one was actually her real name, but he intended to find out. He intended to discover exactly what had happened in her past to send her running. Then he would sit down with Rye and tell his brother what he wanted. He would tell Rye he wanted them to marry Rachel. Together they would take care of her problem. But first, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything that would compromise his brother’s position as an officer of the law. Once he was sure of that, he’d bring in Rye.

“Are you sure you didn’t find out the name of the hunter who accidently shot you?” Rachel asked suspiciously.

He shook his head. “No, baby.”

She didn’t look convinced. Max took a quick swallow of coffee and tried to look normal. She put Rye’s plate down. “Where did he go? I swear that man disappears four times a day. What is he doing in that room?”

Max choked on his laughter. He knew exactly what his brother was doing. “I have no idea.”

“Rye, breakfast is ready,” she shouted down the hall.

Max leaned back in his chair. He needed to get this plan going. His brother was going to go blind if he didn’t stop masturbating.