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Edgard wrapped his own fingers around the thick girth of his cock, stroking their hands in tandem as he said to Trevor, “Bend over the table, grab onto the edge and stick that ass in the air.”

Trevor moaned, angling for another heated kiss before he readily complied, holding Edgard’s hand as he turned, letting his belly drape over the flat surface.

Edgard flicked his tongue down Trevor’s spine as positioned himself behind Trevor. He kicked Trevor’s ankles until Trevor broadened his stance.

Trevor looked over his shoulder at his lover, his eyes bright with desire as he tilted his butt higher in invitation.

Channing watched as Edgard dropped to his knees and ran his tongue down the crack of Trevor’s ass. His hands spread those cheeks wide and he rimmed Trevor’s asshole with the tip of his tongue. Around and around that puckered opening, blowing on it gently and then he jammed his tongue inside.

Jesus. That was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.

Her cunt spasmed as she remembered when Colby had done that to her last night. How the kinky, totally debauched behavior had turned her on to epic proportions.

Edgard’s tickling tongue had the same effect on Trevor. Trevor whimpered and bumped his ass into Edgard’s face. “Christ, baby. That feels so fucking good. You know how much I love it.”

“Yes, I do.” Edgard stood. “Which is why I’m not gonna let you come this way.”

“You still pissed off at me?”

“Yes. Be glad I ain’t tying you up and whipping the shit out of this ass before I fuck it. But then again, I know how much you love that.

Brace yourself.”

Trevor said, “You want some lube?”

“No lube,” Edgard said and pressed the head of his cock against Trevor’s asshole. “I want it to hurt.” He plunged in, in one fast stroke.

“Ah, fuck,” Trevor said on a long groan.

Edgard reamed Trevor hard enough the table and the horse trailer shook.

Trevor’s hands were wrapped around the edge so tightly his knuckles were white. Edgard muttered in Portuguese, his hips pistoning like mad as the muscles on his ass flexed.

After one particularly intense thrust, Edgard stopped with his cock buried in Trevor’s ass. He layered his sweat-covered chest over Trevor’s arched back. Edgard didn’t move, he appeared to be waiting for something from Trevor.

Trevor wiggled, humping the table as he moaned, “Please. Don’t stop.”

Edgard’s silky voice inquired, “Who is fucking you, Trevor?”

“You are.”

“Who am I?’


“A man.”


“Does it ever feel this good when you’re fucking a woman?”

Trevor turned his face away.

Edgard withdrew completely out and rammed back in to the hilt.

“Answer me, goddammit.”

“No. Jesus.”

“Do you ever beg a woman to fuck you in the ass? With a synthetic excuse for a cock? Or with her fingers? Or with her tongue?”


“Do you want me to pull out my big cock and stop stuffing it into this hole as hard and deep as I can?”

“No. Edgard. Please.”

Edgard licked the back of Trevor’s neck, trilling his lips over the sensitive bend in his shoulder until Trevor trembled. “You want what only I can give you? You don’t care if she knows how much you love my cock? Shoved in your ass? Shoved in your mouth?”

Right then, Channing knew she’d been wrong. Trevor wasn’t the dominant in this sexual relationship, Edgard was.

“No, I don’t care if she knows.”

“Beg me to finish it. Beg me to show her what I do to you. What I give to you that no one else ever has, amigo.”

“Edgard. Please, fuck me. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t stop—”

Edgard growled his approval and rocked into Trevor with such force the base of the table cracked.

She’d never seen such a brutal show of censure.

“Jack off right now,” Edgard hissed. “I want to see your come spewing all over your stomach.”

Trevor reached between his legs, his arm pumping as his hand furiously worked his cock. He came with an extended groan that bordered on a scream.

Edgard roared, arched, his ass cheeks clenched and he pounded his meat into Trevor’s up-thrust ass harder and harder until he shouted out his release. Still giving Trevor short, pulsing strokes, Edgard bowed over Trevor’s back. Breathing hard. Licking. Biting. Sucking Trevor’s passion dampened skin.

Channing came in a wet gush without even touching herself, just by squeezing her thighs together. As much as she’d been unbelievably turned on by this voyeuristic episode, she knew something had happened between Trevor and Edgard in that interlude.

As they started to murmur to each other in that low lover’s crooning tone, she snuck out, locking the door behind her.

Chapter Thirteen

Channing returned to the rodeo grounds in a daze. She smiled politely at the other women who were also waiting for the bull riding to begin. They were all at the point of the day—the breaking point—that they wished for the event to be over because they had miles of blacktop stretching ahead of them.

When it was Colby’s turn to ride, she was surprised to see Trevor helping him prepare. Had Trevor told Colby that she knew about him and Edgard? She hoped not. Colby needed to concentrate on his riding, not whether she was weirded out by what she’d discovered an hour ago about his traveling partners.

Colby had a decent ride, an eighty-four, but his hand had gotten caught up in his bullrope. He took a couple of slow spins with the bull before the bull fighter freed him. Colby hit the ground hard and the bull had rushed him. A big gasp echoed in the arena as it appeared the bull’s hooves had connected with his upper torso twice before the bull fighter chased the bull off.

Her belly muscles knotted as she observed him limping from the arena. His score was good enough to get him in the short go, but she wondered how badly he’d been hurt.

Usually, Channing loved bull riding; it was her favorite part of the rodeo. But today she could scarcely watch, as the bulls so far had been some of the nastiest she’d ever seen.

Colby didn’t stay on his last bull. It jerked hard and yanked the rope right out of Colby’s hand, tossing him headfirst into the gate. Colby managed to tuck and take the brunt of the impact on his right side. It took a minute before he got up again.

Even after he’d gotten ejected in the short go, Colby ended up in fifth.

Good enough to finish in the money, but not enough points to move him up in the standings. He was still ranked second.

Oddly enough, Cash had won the final round of bull riding. The minute the engraved gold belt buckle had passed into Cash’s hands, she made tracks to the contestants’ entrance. Heedless of what his friends or others might think, when Channing caught sight of Colby, she practically ran to him.

He gave her that charming boyish grin, complete with devilish dimples, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, darlin’. Didja see that ride?”

“The one where you got hurt?”

“Hell. I ain’t hurt. Just got my bell rung a little, that’s all.”

She frowned. “But—”

“Seriously, Chan, I’m okay. I got my payout, so I’m actually a lot better than okay. I’m ready to hit the road.” He gestured with his head toward the parking lot. “Trev and Edgard loaded up the horses and we’re ready to go.”

“You’ll be able to rest in the truck?”

“Nah. I’m on tap to drive to Valentine.”

Channing reached for his hand and he winced and jerked it back.

“What? You don’t want to hold my hand now?”

“It ain’t that.”

“Then what?”

“I’m just a little sore. Forget it.”

“No. Let me see.”

“It ain’t nothin’. Let’s go.”

She stepped in front of him, bumped her sandals into his boots and rose to her tiptoes to get in his face. “Let me see it or I’m dragging you back to sports medicine for them to take a look.”

“I told you—”

“And I’m telling you, I’m serious, Colby McKay, so don’t think you can sweet talk your way around this one. Let me see it right now.”

He glared at her. Then he slowly brought up his riding hand. “Fine.

See? It’s a little beat up, but it’s fine.”

Channing glanced down and her stomach churned. His hand looked like he was wearing a baseball glove, as it was swollen to twice its normal size. Red and puffy with dark crisscrosses around the wrist. The knuckles were scuffed, rubbed raw and scabbed over. Without thinking she placed her lips on the worst scrapes. “Oh, Colby. Oh, honey, oh, baby, it’s not fine. That has to hurt something fierce. You need—”

With his good hand Colby tipped her face to his and kissed her.

Deeply. Thoroughly enough to make her feel dizzy.

“Wow.” She blinked up at him. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

“For carin’ about me. It’s the first time since I was about ten years old that I’ve had someone give me a kiss on a rodeo boo-boo to make it feel better.” A wicked grin flashed. “Come to think of it, shug, when I was on that bull, on that last spin, he also gave me a real serious slam to my—”

“You are such a… man, using my concern for you against me for sexual favors.”

“Can’t blame me for tryin’.”

“No. But I will tell you that no way in hell are you driving to Valentine.”

He sighed. “It don’t work like that. It’s my turn.”

“Or mine. I’ve haven’t taken my turn churning up the pavement yet.”

“You ever driven a 350 diesel pickup haulin’ a horse trailer loaded down with three horses?”