Her Three Wilde Champion Men (Wilde, Nevada 2)

“I’d much rather spend time with you than the old fuddy-duddies back there,” Justin admitted.

He turned back slightly to the crowd, where his brothers were—Alex on the stage and Brandon to the left of it. They were both looking his direction, but he knew it wasn’t him they were focusing on. It was Shelby.

It had been years since they’d been attracted to the same woman. Brandon’s ex. The old game they’d played of who could get the girl to date them first had been set aside after Brandon had fallen head over heels for Ashley. They all had fallen, but Brandon had gotten the jump on him and Alex. Several secret dates later, Brandon’s confession of love had sealed the brotherly pact. They had stepped aside for him to pursue Ashley. Justin had feelings for her, but not on the level Brandon had shown. Not even close. Of course, what happened with Ashley had soured all of them on love.

“Are you sure? I can hear your stomach growling.” Shelby smiled slightly, a hint of amusement on her lips, lips he would love to taste. “This is boring work. I have to unpack the leftover gift bags—and there are more in the office—and sort the contents into neat little piles. It might take an hour or more. Can you wait that long to eat, cowboy?”

Despite the fact that he really was starving, Justin bet if he didn’t go with Shelby now he’d never have a chance with her. This wasn’t about reliving the game he and his brothers had played years ago. This was about Shelby. He did want to get to know her better, much better.

“I want to go with you. Also, I want to point out that you get to call me ‘cowboy’ but I can only call you ‘Shelby.’ That’s not really fair, is it?”

“Wilde girls never play fair, Elko. You know that. By the way, my real name is Selby, though my friends call me Shelby. Which are you?” She trotted off, swinging her hips in such a way he completely forgot about his hunger—well, the one in his gut, anyway.

* * * *

Shelby looked into Justin’s dark brown eyes and thought the Fates were testing her resolve. An Elko cowboy? What could be worse? Justin might be the pinnacle of what she found attractive in men. It sure seemed he was. Six feet five inches of mouthwatering male perfection in a Stetson, black T-shirt, faded Levi’s, and cowboy boots. Peeking out from under his hat was dark, thick hair. His face was chiseled nicely and the lone dimple in his left cheek added to his beauty.

But Justin wasn’t from Wilde, or even from any of the towns around the country like Bliss or Destiny in Colorado. Those were cousins to her home, places where the kind of family she’d grown up in was accepted in full.

Justin was from Elko. A place she knew well, since it was only thirty minutes south of Destiny. She’d been a cheerleader for Wilde High School’s Wolves, whose team played Elko’s Indians every year. The jeers from both parents and students often got personal, deriding the poly lifestyle of the citizens of Wilde. The slurs came more quietly of late since the meeting between the two school boards, but they still came.

“Here we are,” she said, opening the door to the executive wing.

“What do you need me to do to help you, Shelby?”

Leave. Kiss me. Hold me. “See those bags stacked up by the sofa?”

He nodded, slipping off his Stetson and placing it on her desk.

“Let’s unpack them and make piles of each of the items.” She felt completely safe since a few of the administrative staff were within shouting distance of her office. Though she didn’t completely trust herself around Justin, he didn’t seem dangerous. If he was, it likely was in the sinful way, which only added to her troubles. “There are sixteen things in each. We can stack them up and then get a count.”

“Why not just count the bags?” His sexy smile made her weak in the knees.

Arrogant. Great. Another thing she liked in the other gender. Not too much but just enough. And once again, Justin seemed to have the perfect mix of it. She felt a tingle—the kind that she knew would last much longer than a few seconds—grow inside her. The impact of him being within fingertip range was causing heat to zip under her skin.

“Elko, you want to help or do you want to be in charge?”

Justin’s eyebrow rose and his lips twisted into a cocky grin.

Shit. Why did I just say that? Because she was a submissive. It was much more than role play for her. It was part of her very makeup. She’d come to the realization early on in her twenties. Now a regular at The Masters’ Chambers, she still clung to the hope to find some Masters who would give her their collar. Masters from Wilde. No outsiders. Never again.

Justin landed on the floor and began sifting through the contents like a pro. She had to hand it to him. The cowboy was doing a great job.

Twenty minutes into the task with about a third of the bags emptied, she heard Justin’s stomach, also clearly empty, grumble. She looked over at him working away like a fiend, and another bout of hot shivers raced up and down her spine.

They’d talked about all sorts of things—the weather, sports,

and even politics. It was easy to talk to Justin.

“I heard that you Wilde girls all carry guns,” he said with a grin. “That true?”

“Do I need to be carrying one right now?” she teased back.

He held up his hands as if surrendering to the law. “Don’t shoot me, Shelby. I’m innocent.”

“I doubt you’re innocent, Justin, but I’m not packing, so put down your hands.” Continuing the task at hand, she glanced over at him. “I do have a gun, you know. It’s a pearl-handled revolver that my grandmother left me. It’s one of my most precious possessions.”

“I’d love to see it.”