Home > Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders #10)

Cowgirls Don't Cry (Rough Riders #10)
Author: Lorelei James

Prologue

“Who’s up for a threesome?”

Whoops and catcalls echoed around the campfire while Brandt McKay seethed in the shadows of the pine trees.

“And I mean anyone,” Mike, that little f**king prick, emphasized with a drunken leer. “Guys, gals.

Hell, it don’t matter if it’s more than three. In fact, the more the merrier! Me’n Jessica here—” he whacked Jessie’s bikini-clad butt hard, “—are up for a good f**kin’ time tonight.”

“Or a good time f**king,” someone shouted.

“You got that right,” Mike shot back to additional wolf whistles.

Jessica. The little f**king prick didn’t even know Jessie’s name, for Christsake. What the hell was she doing with him?

Ain’t that why you’re spying on her like some lovesick peeping Tom? To figure out why she turned you down but she’s hooked up with a loser worse than you?

Brandt ignored his sarcastic internal voice that resembled his father’s. He remained as still as a hunter tracking prey as he spied on his brother’s widow. The woman he’d purposely stayed away from for the last six months. Sweet Jesus, sweet Jessie looked good. Better than good and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with the skimpy string bikini she wore. He’d always suspected a knockout body lurked beneath the frumpy western clothes she’d favored, but holy shit. She was perfect—all long, lean muscles with a few well-placed curves.

“Any takers?” Mike prompted the motley group of drunks.

“Hell yeah!”

“But Mike—”

Mike ground his mouth into Jessie’s, cutting off her protest.

Encouraging whoops rang out when Mike wrapped his arms around Jessie’s bare thighs. He clumsily threw her over his shoulder, half-stumbling past the fire pit as he headed toward the campsites.

Since Jessie was hanging upside down, Brandt couldn’t tell how she felt about Mike’s invitation for a sexual free for all.

He scowled and picked his way around rocks and shrubs, trying to keep the couple within his line of sight. But his damn flip-flops slipped on the pine needles. Tree branches scraped his bare chest and legs since he only wore board shorts. His fishin’ buddies, Rob and Brent, had already packed up their tackle Cowgirls Don’t Cry

boxes. He should’ve gone home an hour ago, after his less-than-productive chat with Jessie…except he didn’t trust these douchebags, and his gut instinct had been dead on. He doubted Jessie had turned into a party girl, indulging in random f**ks with strange guys.

Maybe she’s changed. Maybe she wants to experience every sexual scenario Luke had indulged in.

Highly unlikely. But he wanted to keep her from doing something she’d regret.

Mike stopped in front of a mid-sized camper. He let Jessie slide down his body and pushed her against the side of the camper as he opened the door.

Was she that drunk Mike had to hold her up?

Nope. Jessie walked into the camper on her own accord.

Fuck.

A couple minutes later, two guys, talking loudly about blowjobs and double penetration, wandered up from the bonfire.

Brandt was out of the darkness, blocking them before either reached the door.

“Hey, man.” A sunburned, shirtless blond guy waved a bottle of vodka in Brandt’s face. “You here to f**k that skinny chick too?”

“I don’t wanna f**k her. I’m gonna ram my dick so far into her mouth she’ll feel my balls on her chin,” boasted the second guy, who sported an ape-like chest.

Brandt crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve got enough players, so take off.”

“Fuck that, man,” the blond spat. “We were invited.”

“Yeah,” the hairy one chimed in, “move it.”

“Make me.” No way was he letting these guys past him. No. Fucking. Way.

“You think you’re tough,” hairy guy sneered. “There’s two of us and only one of you. I’d say the odds are in our favor.”

“Yeah? Then bring it, motherfucker, ’cause I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

The blond dude squinted at Brandt. “Hold up a sec.”

“What? We can take him.”

“You’re that cowboy ass**le from the bar fight at Rockin’ R last month.” The blond guy spoke to his friend. “He’s the one who punched Troy.”

“Is that the guy whose ribs I broke?” Brandt asked, hoping the lie sounded credible.

“No. You busted Troy’s tooth. Fucked up his face good too.”

Brandt shrugged. “Huh. I guess it must’ve been the other guy who wanted a piece of me—right after I handed your buddy his ass. Or should I say after I handed him his tooth.”

The two guys exchanged a look.

“To be honest, I don’t remember a helluva lot from that night except I was pissed off, shitfaced and spoilin’ for a fight.” He flashed his teeth in a feral grin. “Unlike now. I’m pissed off, spoilin’ for a fight, but I’m completely sober.”

“Shit.”

“So we doin’ this? Or are you two walkin’ the f**k away?”

Both guys held up their hands and backed off. “No problem, man. We’re going.”

“Good. And feel free to pass along the message that Mike’s invitation for an orgy has been canceled.”

They nodded and stumbled back toward the party.

Brandt waited another couple of minutes, but no one else appeared.

His deep inhalation didn’t provide a sense of calm. Chances were high his temper would still get the best of him tonight, but it couldn’t possibly be worse than his imagination. He opened the door.

The older model camper smelled musty and was dark except for a light shining from the back. He passed a cramped living area and froze by the miniscule cook top when he noticed two naked forms. One standing. One…not.

Jessie was on her knees. Her strawberry blonde waves hung down her spine, brushing the dimples above her bare ass when she bobbed her head. Mike’s hands were twisted in her hair as he bumped his pelvis into Jessie’s face. His chorus of “That’s it, baby” and “Suck it harder” bounced off the fake paneling.

Brandt had been ready—eager even—to jump in and pummel that little f**king prick Mike if he’d taken advantage of Jessie. But it appeared Jessie…was enjoying giving Mike a blowjob. Brandt must’ve made a noise, because Mike looked up with a drunken leer.

“I was beginning to wonder if anyone was gonna take me up on my offer. Go ahead and get nekkid.

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