Porterhouse (Grade-A Beefcakes 4)

“Bennett!” Ava said, giving him a hug as if they knew each other. “Cash, it’s been a while,” she added when she turned to Mr. Dark and Deadly.

I frowned. What the hell?

The intense looks they’d been giving me fell away and they smiled at Ava.

“Any more problems with that four wheeler?” Cash asked her.

She shook her head, her styled curls sliding across her shoulders. “Nope, the new carburetor did the trick.”

Carburetor? Since when did she know about engine parts? She ran the Seed and Feed, but still. And why was she asking these two? I posed the obvious question. “You guys know each other?”

Ava stepped out of Bennett’s hug, but put her hand on his arm. “Of course. Cash owns the auto shop on Main with his uncle. He’s the one who towed your truck this morning.”

My mouth fell open as I looked to him. He grinned at me and winked.

I’d been helping Gus, Kemp and Poe—who ran a vet clinic together—with a business web site and, when done, I went out to my truck parked in front of their office to discover it wouldn’t start. Instead of meeting my mom for lunch and manicures, she’d picked me up and then later dropped me off here at Kaitlyn’s. Since I’d been busy, Gus had said he’d take care of getting my truck to the mechanic. I knew it had been to Carter’s Auto Repair, but I didn’t know the person behind the name was gorgeous, sex on a stick with a beard. Cash, Mr. Mechanic. God, it was a perfect stripper name.

“And Colton’s on the wait list for one of Bennett’s custom bikes.”

Towed trucks… Custom bike… Carburetors…

“I thought… I thought—” I sputtered, looked at the men. Holy shit. Yeah, they knew exactly what I thought.

Bennett ran a hand over the back of his neck and offered me a wicked smile.

These two hotties weren’t strippers at all.

2

CASH

* * *

I learned a few things about Julia Duke in the short time we spent with her in her brother’s kitchen. First, she was hot as fuck. Second, she could blush almost as red as her hair. Third, she was sassy, flirty and a tiny bit filthy. All of which made me rock hard, which was pretty fucking bad since I was sitting in Cassidy’s bar with her brothers and a few other guys who’d beat the shit out of me if they knew. I had to straighten my legs out beneath the table to get comfortable. When I bumped legs with Bennett who was across from me, I knew he had the same issue.

We’d shared women before—our friendship went back all the way to high school auto shop class—but I had a feeling every one of them was just preparation for Julia. Ten minutes with her and I wanted her. For good. And just thinking those two words, for good, should have me panicking, but it didn’t. The opposite, in fact. I bit my lip to stifle the smile. It was as if I’d been hit by a fucking Cupid arrow.

No matter what sappy crap I was thinking, I was shit for her. My past was a mess—a huge fucking understatement—and I wouldn’t blame her for steering clear. I’d been exonerated of the charges, but still. Once accused of being a rapist, always a rapist. Julia would learn of it and run far, far away. The fact these men weren’t driving me to the county line proved they didn’t know either.

“When’s the party done again?” Jed asked, dropping down into an empty chair at our big table, breaking me from my thoughts.

We’d slid two side by side to fit all of us—me, Bennett, Liam, Tucker, Colton, Poe and Porter. The bar was Jed’s and he’d been working, helping the bartender keep up with orders, but was taking a break. He looked at his watch, then waved a waiter over who took away some of the empty plates from our dinner. “Thanks, Mark.”

It was Friday night and people were out enjoying themselves. The jukebox was pumping out a mix of classic rock and country and the scent of burgers and beer filled the air.

“Ten,” Colton replied. He looked eager for it to be over so he could go over there, toss Ava over his shoulder and drag her back to the ranch. A few minutes with Julia and I had my own caveman thoughts. I wanted her all for myself. Myself and Bennett. We’d get her between us, get her naked and mark her up. Beard burn on her inner thighs, little nibble marks on the bottom swell of her full tits. Puffy pussy lips from being fucked hard and long. Cum coating her, inside and out. There would be no question she belonged to us.

“Not too rowdy for a bachelorette party,” Jed added, taking a sip of his iced tea. The former rodeo champ seemed relaxed and enjoying his retirement from the sport, or his new life with the sweet town librarian and Duke. “We should be thankful they didn’t want to go to Vegas. They can’t go too wild at our house.”

I looked to Bennett. The corner of his mouth tipped up, but he didn’t say anything. While they knew we’d stopped by to introduce ourselves to Julia—so we didn’t freak her out being driven home by strangers—neither of us shared what we knew about the party. Julia might have been a tiny thing, but I didn’t want to be on her shit list. I really wanted her to like me, and I knew her threat hadn’t been an empty one.

We also didn’t share the dirty thoughts we had about her. For the guys around the table, she was either sister, cousin, or future sister-in-law. Sharing how we wanted to double team her wasn’t the way to survive the night.

It was obvious none of the guys knew about the strippers. I didn’t know these guys all that well, but I did know them to be possessive fuckers. I doubted any of them worried their woman would stray, but having them get lap dances from guys in nut huggers might cross the line. I had to wonder if the ladies would keep the strippers a secret; I knew they’d spill about the unique party favors.

And that brought about the vision of Julia Duke holding a dildo. I hid my own smile behind a sip of beer and thought of those ten minutes in Duke and Jed’s kitchen with her.

“Why do you look like you’re having a heart attack?” Ava had asked Julia after she’d introduced us.