Hitched (Steele Ranch 4)

And now I was tossed over Wilder’s shoulder and all I could see was his gorgeous ass, his worn jeans molding it perfectly.

“Wilder,” I said again.

I saw King’s lower legs, his boots, as he walked behind us. Wilder stopped, moved to the side and it was when a couple’s legs came and went from my upside-down view that I knew we hadn’t been alone in the upstairs hallway. Since the resort was filled solely with guests participating in the BDSM activities this weekend, they probably hadn’t thought anything of a woman tossed over a man’s shoulder. This was tame.

Wilder started walking again. “Here’s what’s going to happen, princess,” he began.

God, I’d always loved it when they’d called me that.

“We’re going to my room and you’re going to tell us what the hell is going on. You have your safe word. Use it. Otherwise you do what we say. Understand?”

I was quiet as I processed his words, bumping along over his shoulder.

“Princess, answer me.” A light swat fell on my upper thigh. Nothing painful, but it tingled. And was really hot.

“Yes, I understand,” I replied, speaking the words to his lower back.

He paused and I heard a door opening. He went into a room, the light came on, King closing the door behind us. I heard the snick of the deadbolt as I was lowered back to my feet. My hands went immediately to my skirt, smoothing it back down over my thighs. Wilder’s big hand remained on my waist as I adjusted to being upright again. I could feel the callouses against the bare strip of my belly.

While I had often fantasized what it would be like being alone in a hotel room with Wilder and King, I’d never thought it would actually happen.

There was a king-sized bed, a small table and chair, and a low dresser with a flat-screen TV on top. The motif was western with lots of wood, including the log headboard. The carpet and curtains were a dark navy, a large-print western landscape was on the wall by the bathroom. It was just like mine, although I had a smaller bed.

King moved to stand beside Wilder, shoulder to shoulder once again. But in this space, instead of the two-story great room, I felt small. Tiny, in fact. I took a step back and King sighed at my retreat. He moved to the bed, sat on the edge. Wilder followed, sat a few feet away. I had to turn around to continue to face them, but they were my height now and not as imposing.

“You’re into BDSM?” King asked, his gaze raking over every inch of me, then settling on mine. Held.

I licked my lips. “Maybe.”

“Good girl, I like the truth.”

“Why would I lie?” I asked King, tilting my head to the side.

“Why would you hide the truth from us?” he returned.

My eyes narrowed, studying them. King was fair, his hair the color of wheat. In the summer, it lightened from the sun. His whiskers were a touch darker, and while he wasn’t close-shaven, I wouldn’t call the scruff on his square jaw a beard either. It only made him look rugged. It was his eyes, so pale as to be almost the color of ice, which had caught me all those years ago. And still did.

As for Wilder, he was the romance novel’s tall, dark and handsome hero. His hair was longer, unruly but not messy. His eyes were dark, his gaze intense. He was the serious one while King was more lighthearted, but the way the two of them eyed me now, they were equally focused.

They were big. So big. Wide shoulders, but King was broader like the football player he’d once been. Wilder was leaner, but no less muscled. He reminded me of a runner with his trim physique. Both were well over a head taller than me; I only came up to their chins, and that had been while wearing these ridiculously high heels. I wanted to run my hands over both of them, feel those muscles shift and bunch, hear the beating of their hearts, their deep breaths. I wanted to get close enough to breathe in their scents; King liked a soap that smelled like the woods while Wilder didn’t use any kind of scent. I wanted to put my nose at the crook of his neck and breathe him in.

And their lips…I’d felt them. Soft, warm, but gentle. Too damned gentle. I wanted all their power. No restraint.

I just wanted…them. I loved them, always had and now that they were sitting before me, knew I always would.

“The truth?” I asked. “I wasn’t hiding it from you specifically, but it’s private, something I only want to share with my—” I stumbled then, looking away. Embarrassed.

“Who, princess? Your lover?” Wilder asked.

I nodded, thankful he said the word for me. But I didn’t have a lover. While the room wasn’t cold, it was chillier than the great room with the wonderful fireplace. Goosebumps rose on my arms.

“What do you like? Bondage? Whips? Spanking? Floggers?” he questioned.

King added to the list. “Anal? Nipple clamps? Deep submission like master/slave?”

My eyes whipped to his at the last. Slave?

“No!” I replied quickly. I didn’t want to be anyone’s slave, under anyone’s thumb. I’d had enough of that with my mother. I just ached for someone to…make me forget. To clear my thoughts like cobwebs from my mind and fill my head with nothing but him. Them.