“See what you’ve been missing?”
“We know you like to watch us,” the blond said. “That’s why you’ve been sneaking in here.”
“Lucky for you we ain’t done yet.” They turned the bound man sideways and the dark-haired man disappeared into the shadows and returned with a sawhorse.
“And lucky for you, we’ll let you participate. Isn’t that what you’ve secretly hoped for, cowboy?” The blond circled the bound cowboy and plucked up his forgotten hat.
“Have you ever been sucked off by a man?”
The bound cowboy grunted, “Fuck no.”
Both men laughed. Then the dark-haired one said, “Then we’ll make it memorable.
No one knows how to suck c**k better than another man.” He positioned the sawhorse close to the bound cowboy’s thighs. Then he slapped the blond hard on the butt. “You know how I want it. Bend over and spread those ass cheeks. I wanna see every inch of that hole.”
Where had she heard that before?
Without argument, the blond placed his chest on the sawhorse. His mouth was directly across from the bound cowboy’s straining cock. He smiled wickedly and the bound cowboy stopped squirming and seemed to hold his breath.
The dark-haired man reached into his boot and pulled out a condom and rolled it on.
He moistened his fingers with his mouth, then traced them down the blond’s crack and plunged them inside his ass.
The blond wiggled back. “Give me your c**k or your tongue, not your fingers.”
“I’ve already tongued you, that’ll have to do for lube. It’s gonna be one hard ride.”
The dark-haired cowboy lifted the ass in front of him higher, pulling apart the cheeks as his c**k prodded the blond’s dark hole. One thrust of his hips and his dick disappeared completely.
“Yes,” the blond hissed. “Harder.”
“Damn. No matter how many times I do this to you, you’re always so f**king tight.”
Macie focused on the blond circling his hands around the bound man’s ass, bringing that big, straining c**k to his mouth and swallowing it in one greedy gulp.
As the dark-haired man’s c**k reamed the blond man’s ass**le, each hard thrust sent the blond man’s mouth further down the length of the bound man’s cock, until his nose was buried in dark pubic hair. Then he’d release the c**k slowly, and bring it fully back into his mouth, each hungry stroke increasing in speed and suction The scene looked as smooth as a choreographed dance. Like these cowboys had f**ked each other well and often. The blond bobbed his head. Grunts burst from the bound cowboy as he began to pump his hips into the blond’s face.
But the blond retreated and nuzzled the bound man’s quivering belly. “Do you want me to finish you?”
“Yes,” he hissed.
“You want to come in my mouth? In a man’s mouth?”
“Yes, goddamn you, finish it.”
With a loud slurp, the bound man’s distended c**k was once again buried between the blond’s lips. Skin slapped skin. The sawhorse squeaked with the escalating thrusts.
The musky odor of sweat and sex and dirt permeated the air.
Macie was so worked up, she slid her hand down inside her underwear. She slicked up her finger with her own juices and frantically rubbed her swollen clit, aching for fast relief, sighing when the familiar throbbing began.
The dark-haired man panted, “Shit, Dooce, I can’t hold back.”
Dooce? Macie made a surprised noise. The dark-haired man looked over his shoulder briefly as he pounded his meat into Dooce’s ass like a man possessed. At that point she realized the dark-haired man was her ex-boyfriend, Dante.
Dooce turned and glared at her. “What are you doing here? He doesn’t want you. No one wants you.”
The bound cowboy finally looked up and his cowboy hat slid off his head.
Her heart stopped; the man was none other than Carter McKay.
Their eyes met and he said hoarsely, “I want you, Macie, in ways no man ever has. I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
She closed her eyes at the heat in his eyes and the perfection of his quiet declaration.
She slumped against the chute, finding it soft as a pillow.
A pillow?
Macie’s eyes flew open. She sat straight up and looked around. She wasn’t in a darkened barn, but in a darkened camper.
Dammit. It was another dream, a variation on the dream she’d been having the past two months. Except, it wasn’t really a dream since the scenario was very close to the real one she’d walked in on in Dante’s apartment. Dante on his knees, Dooce jacking off as Dante f**ked Dooce’s ass like a madman. It’d been rough, and raw, and unbelievably hot. She’d stayed hidden in the shadows of the hallway, ashamed she’d gotten off at the sight of Dante’s sexual synchronicity with Dooce—a synchronicity she and Dante had never experienced.
No wonder. She hadn’t been born with a penis.
So why did her subconscious place Carter at that scene? Because he was an artist like Dante? Because she wondered if Carter was g*y? The last two times she’d experienced this dream, she was the one tied up and forced to watch the two men f**k like animals.
Was Carter’s presence because she was afraid the situation with him would turn out the same as every other past relationship —with her on the outside looking in?
A therapist would have a field day with that one.
She glanced at the clock. The red numbers flashed five a.m. No use going back to sleep now—the alarm would ring in another half hour anyway.
Macie cleaned up, dressed, and braided her hair before she hopped in her SUV and navigated her way to work.
Late yesterday afternoon, after she and her father finished their meal at the local diner, he’d sped off to Gemma’s ranch to set up the camper. She’d sensed he needed to be alone with his thoughts and to gauge his new responsibilities without her chattering at him. So she’d lingered in the booth, thinking of her best friend Kat, wondering how she’d managed to be a third wheel again. Then she noticed the “help wanted” sign by the cash register and asked the waitress about the opening.
Velma—the sixty-something owner of the Last Chance Diner—needed a gal Friday to fill in part-time as a cook and waitress. The hours were sporadic, but the pay was decent for rural Wyoming. With Macie’s experience in restaurants, Velma seemed genuinely happy to hire her on a simple handshake.
Macie was glad her first day would be spent in the kitchen. Between the bizarre dream, and her father ignoring her, beating eggs and dicing veggies would be a productive way to channel her frustrations.