Kyle stepped into view. “Use that sassy mouth on me too, sugar,” and slipped his c**k past her lips. He cupped his hands over her ears, tilting the angle of her head, f**king in and out as he pleased. “I like seeing my seed running down the crack of your ass. Makes me hard. Makes me realize I ain’t nearly done with you.” He shoved deep and stayed there. “How about you, Hank?”

“Oh, not by half. Keep her occupied. I’ll get the supplies we’ll need.”

Lainie wanted to ask, What supplies? But she couldn’t speak with Kyle’s c**k buried in her mouth. His shaft was rock hard, as if he hadn’t just come. All over her ass.

He kept a lazy tempo, murmuring, “Get me wet,” and “Use your teeth,” and “Suck harder.”

Surrendering her will to Kyle made her wetter and hotter than she’d ever imagined. She focused on pleasing him, getting him to that intangible point where he lost control. Where she held all the power as she brought him over the edge.

Two, three, four thrusts and he stopped halfway so the tip rested in the center of her tongue. “Swallow. Yeah. Suck like that.”

His taste flooded her mouth and she swallowed the slick mixture until she’d milked him dry with hungry, rhythmic sucks.

A moment later Kyle tilted her chin to look into her eyes. He swept her hair from her temples with the tenderest touch. “You are beautiful.” Then he helped her to her feet.

Her body was a sticky mess, fingers, chest, chin, ass, between her legs. But Lainie forgot everything when Hank ambled into view carrying a sawhorse. And a saddle. And, sweet Jesus, was that a . . . rope draped over his shoulder?

Hank flashed his bad cowboy grin and her stomach cartwheeled.

“Kyle, grab some rubbers and lube from the camper.” His gaze wandered over the dried come on her chest and he smiled cockily.

He dumped the saddle on the ground as he set the sawhorse down. “Am I makin’ you nervous?”

“Not you so much as your unusual . . . supplies.”

That damnably alluring grin appeared again. “Ah, hell, darlin’. It ain’t nothin’. We’re just gonna have ourselves a private rodeo.”

“Let me guess. Instead of bulls and broncs, you’re gonna be ridin’ me.”

“Such a smart cookie you are. Got it on the first try.” Hank crooked his finger at her.

Lainie automatically walked to him.

He rested his backside on the sawhorse and tugged her between his legs. His dark, hungry gaze might’ve scared her if she weren’t one hundred percent certain Hank would never hurt her. Not by accident, certainly not on purpose, and not ever in a moment of passion.

“Turn around and close your eyes.”

She obeyed and faced the pasture, letting her lids flutter closed.

Hank’s wonderfully calloused hands slowly floated over her limbs, from the cup of her shoulder down her biceps, past the bend in her elbow to her wrists. God. She loved the way his hands felt on her skin. He’d memorized every hot spot. Sweet spot. Ticklish spot. Running those rough-skinned palms and fingertips across her quivering flesh blanked everything except her anticipation of his next thorough touch.

Then those same strong fingers braceleted her wrists and he pulled them behind her back. “Hold still. Keep your hands like that.”

Something abrasive brushed her knuckles.

He coiled the rope from the base of her clasped hands, past her wrists, stopping midway up her forearms.

Lainie shot him a sardonic look. “How long have you imagined tying me up?”

“Or tying you down?” Hank tossed back. He spun her forward. “About since I figured out you’d let me.”

Ooh. Snap. “Is this one of those scenarios where I regret giving you guys free rein?”

“No.” He framed her face in his hands. “Hell, no. But you have to trust us.”

“I do. Or else I wouldn’t be outside in the middle of the damn day, trussed up like a turkey, stark nekkid, covered in body fluid.”

Hank grinned, sweeping his thumbs over her lips before letting his hands fall away. “Sounds kinkier yet when you put it that way, darlin’.”

The camper door slammed. Hank squinted at Kyle. “You ready?”

“Yep. I see you’ve got our girl all geared up.”

“Maybe I’m not raring to go for a scenario that involves lube and a saddle,” she said.

“Too bad.” Hank stood and Lainie recognized that the conversation was over. He crowded her until she started to move back. He kept his gaze locked on her eyes as he lowered his face until she couldn’t see anything but him.

The simple press of his mouth to hers brought that uncontainable passion to the surface again. Her skin sizzled from the sun. From anticipation.

He tormented her mouth with barely-there brushes of his lips. Hard. Soft. Flirty. Clinging. Fleeting. Without the use of her hands, Lainie couldn’t grab him. He merely chuckled against her lips at her disgruntled growl.

Kyle said, “My turn,” and turned her around. He clamped his hard-skinned hands around her biceps, hauling her to her toes for the type of consuming kiss she craved. He whispered, “I love the taste of my come on your tongue.”

Before the pure deliciousness of Kyle’s desire kicked hers up another notch, Kyle returned her to Hank.

Passing her back and forth, Hank and Kyle tried to outdo each other with their possessive kisses. Gentle caresses morphed into insistent touches. The pinch of her nipple. Wandering fingers and avid mouths were fogging her brain.