Boots and Bareback: Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 3 Page 5

  He grinned. “We’re stubborn.” He leaned over her arm, peering into the bag. “Whatdya buy? Silk panties, edible underwear, stockings and garters?”

  Despite his prying, he was too cute to be mad at. She wrinkled her brows. “Do I look like the stockings and garters kinda girl?” She glanced down at her jeans and cowboy boots.

  Sean’s eyes lit. “Absolutely. I believe every woman has an inner vixen, begging to get out.”

  “Only a man would say that.”

  He shook his head. “Actually, I got that off my sister, Molly.” He cringed. “Although hearing her say it gave me the willies. She’s my baby sister, for God's sakes.”

  Isabella laughed out loud and let him draw her free hand through his arm. “I didn’t say you could walk me home.”

  “Ah, but you didn’t say I couldn’t.” He strode forward, smiling and confident.

  Isabella could stand there and argue or go along with him. Either way, she needed to get home and start getting ready for work. If it meant walking with a handsome man on the sidewalk, so be it. Having other women give her envious stares was a novelty Isabella discovered that she enjoyed. Perhaps there was something to that inner vixen.

  “How is it to be a middle child in the O’Brien family?” Isabella asked.

  His eyes narrowed for a moment. “It can be challenging and yet easy. I don’t have the burden of being oldest and having to set the example for my other siblings, but I never take for granted the family name.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m more carefree than my brothers. Not that I don’t work just as hard.”

  “I don’t doubt that in the least.” Isabella squeezed his muscle, enjoying how thick and hard it was, her thoughts going to the bulge behind his fly, her gut tightening. She wondered if he was thick and hard all over. His youth and enthusiasm would make him a lot of fun in bed. That thought immediately led to the other brothers. Were they as thick and hard all over? Would they satisfy her in bed?

  She let go of his arm and nodded toward her apartment building. “I can take it from here.”

  “Better yet, I’ll race you there.”

  “Your legs are longer.”

  “You can have a head start.” His green eyes twinkled. “Ready? Go!”

  Caught up in Sean’s playfulness and eager to be away from temptation, Isabella tore out, running for her apartment.

  Halfway down the block, Sean passed her and stopped on the steps.

  When Isabella slowed to a halt, Sean swung her up in his arms, laughing.

  “That’s what I like about you, Isabella,” he said as he set her back on her feet, his arm retaining its hold around her waist.

  Breathless, Isabella smiled up at him. “What’s that?”

  “That you’re fearless. You aren’t afraid of anything.”

  Her smile faded. “I have to go.”

  Sean frowned. “So soon? Do you need me to carry your bag upstairs for you?” He pulled her close, his fly rubbing against hers, reminding her of how much he turned her on, as well as of the fact that she was anything but fearless about one thing. And that one thing had her petrified.

  “I really need to go.” She ducked beneath his arms and took the steps two at a time, pushing through the door to her apartment building.

  God, she was a fool to think she could play with fire. Getting involved with the O’Brien men would only burn her.

  Chapter Four

  Isabella ducked into the storeroom the following Friday night at fifteen minutes to midnight, escaping the noise, yelling and sloshed drinks. Tonight, after the bar closed early at the unheard-of hour of midnight, she’d perform for the bachelor party. Her costume of the sequined red bikini top with a matching thong bottom, the sequined vest and glossy, black faux-leather chaps hung in the room behind the stage.

  The Gray Wolf brothers stood ready to move the mechanical horse onto the stage once the band cleared out. All the music they needed would be provided by the open juke box, rigged to play for free after the regulars left.

  For Isabella, the week had flown by. Everywhere she’d turned, an O’Brien had been there, wooing her, bringing her flowers, leaving chocolates and notes at her doorstep. What would it take to get rid of them?

  She couldn’t start something with any one of the brothers without turning the others down. And they were all so darned charming and good-looking, she couldn’t decide which she liked most.

  Not that it mattered. Isabella Severs wasn’t in the market for a man. No matter how sexy he was or how aroused she became when any one of the O’Brien men were around. She’d spent too many sleepless nights already fantasizing about Gabe. Problem was that she fantasized over Tanner and Sean, as well. How wrong was that? Couldn’t she dream about one man alone? Sometimes she made love with just one at a time, but ultimately, all three ended up in her bed in her dreams, pleasuring her, wooing her with their hands, their tongues and other parts of their anatomy. And every time, she startled awake, tears in her eyes when the apparitions shook their heads, disappointed that she couldn’t come, no matter how hard they tried.

  Isabella couldn’t bear to open herself up to failure. She’d even considered going to a doctor to have him check her over. Maybe her orgasm muscle was defective. The humiliation of discussing her sex life with the local doctor paled in comparison to failure to attain the female equivalent of getting off in the presence of the handsome cowboys.

  No matter how horny she was getting, or how handsome the men were, she couldn’t…no, she wouldn’t put herself through that mortification again.

  However, the flowers, notes and sweets had been so nice. And all three of the men had been complete gentlemen, courting her the old-fashioned way.

  Maybe that was another one of her problems. Maybe she needed less gentlemanly behavior. That way if she did happen to sleep with one of them again, he wouldn’t notice if she didn’t orgasm. He’d get in, get out, satisfying his own urges, never minding that he hadn’t satisfied hers. She could deal with that better than being singled out for inability to perform.

  “Five minutes to showtime,” Greta Sue’s voice boomed through the back of the saloon.

  Isabella’s breathing grew more labored, and her heart raced, pain ripping through her chest each time she inhaled. Good lord, was she having a heart attack?

  She pressed a hand to her ribs and doubled over.

  A gentle hand smoothed her hair back from her face. “Are you all right?”

  Isabella glanced up into Audrey’s concerned face. “I can’t seem to get enough air.”

  Audrey smiled and handed her a paper lunch bag. “Breathe into this.”

  Her brow furrowing, Isabella shook her head and gasped. “I told you, I can’t breathe.”

  “Try.” Audrey shoved the bag over Isabella’s mouth. “In with the good air, out with the bad,” she chanted, repeating the phrase several times.

  Audrey’s persistence and softly spoken words had a gradual effect on Isabella and soon her breathing returned to normal, the pain in her chest receding. Finally, she straightened. “Thank God. I thought I was going to die.”

  “That’s how I felt the first time I stripped.”

  “Does it get any easier?”

  “Sometimes.” Audrey shrugged. “It depends on the crowd.”

  “And the crowd out there now?”

  “From what Jonathon O’Brian told me, they only invited four close friends of the groom. Those plus the groom and his three brothers makes eight. Nine, if you count Jonathon. But he doesn’t plan on staying. He’s afraid he’ll cramp the boys’ style.” Audrey grinned. “That particular O’Brien is a gentleman.”

  Isabella sighed. “All of them are.”

  Audrey’s brows rose. “Accept any of their invitations yet?”

  “How can I choose? They’re all equally handsome and charming.”

  “Don’t forget sexy.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Jackson Gray Wolf ducked his head into the storeroom and smiled. “The horse is in place
.”

  “Perfect timing.” Audrey wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed the big Kiowa cowboy, her red-booted foot sliding up his calf, her body melting against his, her pussy riding his thick thigh.

  Jackson’s hand slipped into the waistband of Audrey’s cutoffs, cupping her bottom.

  Isabella squirmed, her nipples tightening at the blatant sexuality the couple exuded. A minute passed and Isabella’s core throbbed. Finally, she cleared her throat. “I should go get ready.” Problem was…they were blocking the exit.

  Audrey pulled back, her lips swollen, her face flushed. “What? Oh, yeah. Right.” She rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth and poked a finger into Jackson’s chest. “Mark my spot. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Then with a deep breath, she grabbed Isabella’s hand and dragged her through the doorway to the costume room behind the stage. “Get dressed and saddle up. You’re in for a wild ride tonight, if you’re lucky.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it.” Isabella’s body trembled.

  “You don’t have to.” Audrey let out a long sigh. “I don’t have to paint the outside of the Ugly Stick and you don’t have to earn a wad of cash.”

  “No.” Isabella closed her eyes and pictured Sundance, black as night, standing with his head held high, his raven mane streaming in the wind. She opened her eyes and squared her shoulders. “At five hundred dollars a dance, I can’t afford to miss this opportunity.”

  Audrey pulled her into her arms. “You can do this. It’s only eight men. They’ll behave, Jackson made them promise.”

  “Don’t worry. I can handle it.” Isabella pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it onto a box.

  “Let me.” Audrey rounded behind her and unhooked her bra.

  Her boss’s fingers skimming across the skin of her back made Isabella tingle all over. After Audrey and Jackson had practically made love in front of her, Isabella was still a little titillated. Good. She’d use her arousal to prime the pump for her upcoming dance.

  “You don’t have to stay.” Isabella slid her bra straps down her arms and laid the garment over the tank top, pressing her hands to her naked breasts. “The O’Briens will make sure no one gets out of hand.”

  “But I don’t want to leave you alone.” Audrey laid a hand on her arm, turning Isabella to face her. “Are you going to be all right?”

  Isabella hugged her boss, disregarding her own nakedness. “Really, I’m okay. I won’t fall apart. It’s a job. Nothing more.” Even if part of her wished it could be.

  Audrey’s pretty brows furrowed and she set Isabella at arm’s length. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Now go home.” She turned Audrey away and gave her a gentle shove. “I’ll feel weird stripping in front of you.”

  “Uh, honey, you just did.” The pretty owner of the saloon laughed. “As if I haven’t seen it all. I’m a former stripper, remember? Seen it all before. Even did a woman or two.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder, waggling her brows. “If I didn’t have Jackson in my life, I might consider making a play for you. You have lovely breasts, by the way.” She winked.

  Isabella’s pussy tightened as an image of a naked Audrey with another naked, faceless woman sprang to mind. Wow…wow. Heat flushed her cheeks. “Go on, before you corrupt me further.”

  “Ah, sweet, innocent Isabella, you have so much to learn about yourself.” Audrey waved. “Libby will be serving at the bar and Greta Sue will be manning the front door. The food is set out, all the boys need is the entertainment. That’s you. Break a leg.” She turned and tossed a parting comment over her shoulder, “I’m only a phone call away, if you need anything.” Then Audrey left.

  Isabella stood with her hands over her peaked nipples. A waft of air blew down over her from the air-conditioner ductwork overhead, cooling her heated skin.

  You can do this.

  Audrey had said she only had to strip down to as much as she felt comfortable.

  Isabella stepped out of her cutoffs and panties and slipped into the miniscule thong and bikini top. The cool air now seemed icy, raising goose bumps on her arms.

  She added the red-sequined vest and the black chaps and still felt pretty darned naked. If she stripped just the vest and the chaps, that would leave two full dances and the remainder of the first dance with nothing else to do but ride the horse or wiggle around the dance floor. They had a pole she could have incorporated in her routine, but she’d tried several times, unable to make it look natural and sexy. Short of a fireman’s slide, she’d just mess it up.

  “Are you ready for some action?” Libby’s voice called out through the stage curtain.

  The men on the other side of the curtain whooped and hollered, whistled and catcalled.

  Her music started, her cue to emerge from behind the curtain and take on the task of dancing—for five hundred dollars a pop.

  At the last second, panicking like she’d said she wouldn’t, Isabella had an idea.

  Sean had packed his wallet with twenties, determined to get as much out of this bachelorette party as he could. Meaning he wanted to see as much of the beautiful Isabella as she’d let him pay to glimpse. A knot lodged in his chest at the idea of paying her to expose herself to him. At the same time, his cock twitched at the wickedness of giving a female money to show him some skin. He’d never had to pay before, and the idea set his body humming. Who knew he had an inner porn-lover begging to get out?

  Hell, he’d tried asking Isabella out, only to be turned down so many times, he’d begun to doubt his own sex appeal. The previous evening he’d asked six other women to dance with him to prove to himself he still had it. Each woman had jumped at the chance.

  Why not Isabella?

  At the end of the night, he’d left alone. No other woman appealed to him as much as she did. He worried that her stubborn refusal to go out with him actually turned him on and made him want her more. Problem was, he had competition from his brothers. Maybe she was having a hard time choosing.

  Sean cracked his knuckles, his back stiffening. Well, he’d just have to show her he was the one for her. Gabe had gotten a step up on him when he’d sneaked back into the Ugly Stick the first night Isabella had ridden the mechanical horse, but Sean was no quitter, having already cornered her in town once. He went after what he wanted with determination and laser focus. He may be younger than Tanner and Gabe, and even Isabella by a year. He made up for his youth in physical strength, maturity and size—he stood at least an inch taller than Tanner and two inches taller than Gabe, a fact that irritated the fire out of both brothers. Not only was he taller, he believed his cock was bigger than his brothers’, another fact he took pride in.

  They’d argue to their deaths, but Sean knew. He’d seen his brothers naked on more than one occasion. When Connor Mason had been wooing his sweetie, Charli Sutton, he’d enlisted the three O’Brien brothers to help satisfy Charli’s fantasies.

  At first, Sean felt weird making love to Connor’s woman in front of Connor and his brothers. When Charli had been more than willing, all of the men had focused on pleasuring the woman, not feeling strange about their nakedness or how close they were to one another.

  Frankly, ever since Sean and his brothers had been involved in Connor’s sexual exploits, he’d been less satisfied one-on-one. One woman with multiple men was damned hot. He and his brothers had agreed on that subject from early on.

  Sean stared at the curtain, waiting for Isabella to emerge, thinking about her and the dilemma of choosing between the brothers.

  He’d learned that Isabella loved working with horses and being in the outdoors. She was the ideal woman for him and the ranch, if he could convince her to choose him.

  The music swelled and still Isabella had not appeared.

  Sean leaned forward. Was she injured? Was she hiding behind the curtain, paralyzed with stage fright?

  Gabe stood and took a step toward the stage.

  Tanner’s hand shot out. “Wait.” He
nodded toward the curtain.

  Isabella stepped through, her eyes round, her body…

  “What the hell?” Gabe dropped back into his chair, his brow furrowed.

  Sean chuckled, then broke out into a full, belly laugh.

  Isabella had on several layers of costumes, giving her the appearance of a homeless Vegas act. She glared at Sean, then focused her gaze straight ahead, moving in stilted motions across the stage to the beat of the bump-and-grind music playing on the juke box.

  At the edge of the stage, she slipped a leather Dominatrix jacket studded with metal rivets over her shoulders, bent her knees and blew a kiss to Jesse. She let the jacket fall to the tips of her fingers, then flung it to the side of the stage. With a flick, she tossed her long, silky hair over her shoulder and turned her back to the men.

  Sean’s laughter trickled into a soft chuckle.

  “Hey, ’Bella, show us some skin!” one of Jesse’s buddies shouted.

  Tanner rose from his chair, his fists clenched.

  Sean clamped a hand on his brother’s arm. “Down, boy. You have to let her dance.”

  Tanner growled low in his chest and sank into his chair, his brows forming a deep V over his nose.

  “I know how you feel. I don’t want other men ogling her either.” Sean patted his brother’s back and pulled a twenty from his wallet. “Maybe we can get the ball rolling with a little encouragement.” He stepped away from Tanner. “Don’t punch me, bro.”

  “Does this help?” Sean held out his hand, the twenty dangling from his fingertips.

  Isabella’s eyes widened. Her body stilled for a moment, then she swished her hips from side to side, finally presenting one to Sean. “Tuck it in where it won’t fall out.” She rocked her pelvis.

  His cock pressing hard against his fly, Sean placed his hand against her belly and slid the bill against her skin, down into the triangle front of the sequined red thong. When his knuckles brushed against soft, curly hairs, his knees weakened.

  Isabella danced away, laughing, her voice adding to the music, swirling all around. She removed a gold lamé scarf and let it drift to the floor.