Mike stopped in front of a mid-sized camper. But he wanted to keep her from doing something she’d regret.

Maybe she wants to experience every sexual scenario Luke had indulged in. He doubted Jessie had turned into a party girl, indulging in random fucks with strange guys. 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. His fishin’ buddies, Rob and Brent, had already packed up their tackle Cowgirls Don’t Cryīoxes. Tree branches scraped his bare chest and legs since he only wore board shorts. But his damn flip-flops slipped on the pine needles. He scowled and picked his way around rocks and shrubs, trying to keep the couple within his line of sight. Since Jessie was hanging upside down, Brandt couldn’t tell how she felt about Mike’s invitation for a sexual free for all. He clumsily threw her over his shoulder, half-stumbling past the fire pit as he headed toward the campsites. Mike ground his mouth into Jessie’s, cutting off her protest.Įncouraging whoops rang out when Mike wrapped his arms around Jessie’s bare thighs. “Any takers?” Mike prompted the motley group of drunks. She was perfect-all long, lean muscles with a few well-placed curves. He’d always suspected a knockout body lurked beneath the frumpy western clothes she’d favored, but holy shit. Better than good and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with the skimpy string bikini she wore.

The woman he’d purposely stayed away from for the last six months. He remained as still as a hunter tracking prey as he spied on his brother’s widow. What the hell was she doing with him?Īin’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?īrandt ignored his sarcastic internal voice that resembled his father’s. The little fucking prick didn’t even know Jessie’s name, for Christsake. “You got that right,” Mike shot back to additional wolf whistles. “Or a good time fucking,” someone shouted. In fact, the more the merrier! Me’n Jessica here-” he whacked Jessie’s bikini-clad butt hard, “-are up for a good fuckin’ time tonight.” Hell, it don’t matter if it’s more than three. “And I mean anyone,” Mike, that little fucking prick, emphasized with a drunken leer. Whoops and catcalls echoed around the campfire while Brandt McKay seethed in the shadows of the pine trees.

Cowgirls Don't Cry by Lorelei James