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RENEE DROVE HER RELIABLE, sporty Subaru out of the airport exit after dropping her parents off for their year on the Emerald Isle. It was April, the beginning of the summer season, which brought all the typical working ranch duties. Grown men and women who wanted to pretend they were part of a working ranch paid good money to be included.
Renee called them duders, for dude ranch vacationers, and the name stuck. Better than lamb lickers, she thought. The age-old feud between sheep ranchers and cattle ranchers seemed to be something that would never find a peaceful partnership.
No duders were looking to sign up to rustle sheep. Who would pay good money to herd meadow maggots? No sheep, thank you. She was glad her father had settled on cattle, and if she could get him to take on some bison, that would be awesome. Maybe when he got back from their year in Ireland.
Red Eagle Ranch was an oasis, really, and Renee knew her father had labored hard to create an all-encompassing world within its boundaries. Having grown up in a society that either over-emphasized his ethnicity or damned him for it, the handsome landowner had met his Irish lass, left the U.S. Air Force, and never slowed his building of what now could be considered an empire.
The couple drew plenty of looks from those who didn’t know them. Richard was tall, dark, and commanding. Kayleigh was pale, with auburn hair, and petite. Renee’s mother chuckled over most things like gawking, and Renee’s father had learned to ignore the looks as long as his family wasn’t challenged.
The Red Eagles would do anything for their extended family, often giving local teens work for the summer, and they donated to worthy local causes. They had raised their five children to be masters of their own destinies, to give back to the world, to protect those they loved, and make their fortunes, but not at the ruination of others.
The lessons had taken well. Too well, in some situations. Classmates soon learned that if you picked on one Red Eagle, you picked on them all, and heaven help the person who picked on Renee.
Thankfully, Renee believed they had all outgrown the call to arms for every insinuation or threat of harm. Well, except where she was concerned. The ranch was profitable, they were all hard-working, and her brothers were more than protective... they were invasive.
The dude ranch idea had been rejected fifteen years ago when Kayleigh first suggested they invite greenhorns to help them do things like moving the cattle on the huge ranch.
“Richard, it will cut down on the cost of seasonal hires while bringing in additional income.”
“No one is going to pay for the privilege of moving cattle, fixing fences, cleaning horse stalls, and the like,” said her husband.
He’d been wrong. This was their tenth year, and the craze had increased so much that they’d had to start a waiting list in the last few years. The Red Eagle Ranch was usually busy all year long with one thing or the other, but the harder than typical winter this year had challenged even the most intense adventurer. Now, however, the place was filled to capacity and booked through the late fall.
Checking the time, Renee called Stryker, her eldest brother.
“Hey, Sha-sha, mom and dad get off?” Stryker and her dad kept her toddler rendition of her first name when they were playful. Seer-sha was how it was pronounced, but all she could say was Sha-sha. Her brother was in a good mood. Excellent.
“Well, they got through security,” Renee said.
“Good enough. Listen, I have a meeting that will run long. Declan teaches tonight. Seamus is working on some issue at one of the bunkhouses, so he’ll be a while and Callen? God only knows. He took off about an hour ago when Tauna left for the day. You know, I thought you were going to be the irresponsible one. I wasn’t prepared for Callen to turn wild.”
“Well, thank you very much.”
“No, I mean that we babied you as much as you would let us, so it would stand to reason that if anyone had flakey tendencies, it would be you. Callen was a dark horse.”
“I guess some guys need to sow their wild oats more than others. Anyway, don’t worry about me. If Tauna has gone home, do you need any help hooking up your conference call or anything?”
“No, I can do some things without an assistant, brat. But thanks.”
“Fine. Then I’m going to run into town for some shopping and will be home by five to get dinner started.”
‘I’ll be done about six or so, but don’t hold dinner for me. I’ll eat when I’m through in the office.”
“Right.”
Maybe she could make this work in her favor after all. Renee dialed Ross, her latest boyfriend. “Hey, I’ve got the house to myself. Mom and Dad are gone to Ireland, everyone else is doing their own thing, and I have a bedroom that’s available for use. Interested?”
“I’m on my way.”
Ross was a tour guide in Deadwood and was usually done by three. He was a couple years older than Renee, but she thought he was almost as mature as she was, which was a feat unto itself. Ross was personable and made her laugh, but what was more in his favor was that he didn’t allow her brothers to intimidate him. Well, the thought of them, anyway. He hadn’t actually met them, but he knew who they were. Everyone did. Renee had decided to keep Ross hidden a little while longer.
The Red Eagle Clan consisted of five well-built, bronzed men and two feisty women. In their late fifties, her parents would likely return from Ireland and pick up some of the ranch reins again, but they had earned this year off. Her brothers were known for their integrity, good looks, and protection of their sister’s virtue, even if they didn’t protect their own.
Renee’s siblings still acted as though she were pure, long after that horse had left the barn for distant lands. She knew from experience that the Red Eagle men never shied away from confrontation or trouble, but they didn’t court it, either. If trouble came calling in the form of an overly friendly guy with their sister, they considered it an invitation to do some educating.
Renee pulled into the ranch drive just as Ross was arriving. He was a good-looking man, not like her brothers, but handsome, nonetheless. Renee hoped that he could think fast on his feet if necessary because she didn’t have time to give him a cover story.
After a quick deposit of the perishables in the fridge, Renee was showing Ross her room. In five minutes, all thoughts of self-preservation and cover stories were long forgotten along with their clothes.
Renee kissed the side of Ross’s neck as she ran her hands over his lightly sun-darkened skin. She slid down his torso in search of his equipment housed between strong thighs when suddenly, he decided to take over. Renee delighted in his show of leadership. He might prove to be fun for a while after all. She didn’t feel the same attraction she’d expected to feel when she’d found “the one,” but he did have his own redeeming qualities. Maybe he would grow on her.
Ross brought her nipple into his hot mouth and sucked hard. Did she tell him she loved it that way? Maybe, but regardless, he was doing what she needed, which caused her thighs to coat with her liquid arousal. The feel of the slippery release made her even more excited. She moaned when his mouth slipped from one nip to another, breathing faster as he produced hard suction on the other breast. That sweet erotic pain, not heavy but oh, so good.
“My clit. Touch my clit,” Renee directed when Ross let go of her nipple.
“I’ll get to it,” he rasped. “I need inside you, baby.”
“No, wait, I want to play a little.”
Her hand teased his belly hair as she followed the arrow to a fully erect cock that he had denied her earlier when she was in search of his sensitive area. She was determined that today, he would not deny her.
“I have to come inside, Renee. I’m not going to last long.” What did that mean? He wasn’t a teenager. Renee touched his member, hearing him hiss as though he were in pain. She hesitated.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked.
“What? Don’t you? I... wait, wait, I’m sure I have one in my wallet.” Ross reached over to pick up his jeans.
Renee ran her hands up Ross’ flat belly and wondered why he didn’t have a harder stomach, but he was just thin. Concentrate, Renee. She forced her brain back on track. Losing focus was a bad sign.
“Got it.” Ross handed the protective sleeve to Renee.
“Oh, you want me to, um, okay, I haven’t, I mean, I don’t usually... oh, hell, fine.”
This wasn’t turning into the hot session she had hoped for, but sometimes you just needed to scratch an itch, and she had been itching for at least six months. Sometimes a girl just wanted relief that she didn’t do herself. Renee struggled with the wrapper.
Ross grabbed it impatiently, ripping it open with his teeth before shoving it back into her hand. Renee awkwardly rolled the latex over his shaft and pulled back, just a little proud of herself.
He leaned down to kiss her, but it was a quick peck, not a toe-curling, tonsil touching kiss like she would have liked. It would help her get back into the mood. Ross was already trying to jockey into position. Renee’s frustration could have been heard if he had been listening.
“Ross, I need more. Just a little more.”
“More, okay,” he said, a little bemused. “I can do more.”
Ross did the mechanics right, but he wasn’t sparking the fire like earlier. His touch wasn’t quite a caress. It had become more fumbling than sensual. His teasing of her clit wasn’t quite on the mark, either. It was rough, hard. He was merely going through the motions with great impatience.
In fact, several times, he was far off the target and never seemed to notice. Was he this directionally challenged earlier? The joke about finding a clit in the dark didn’t even apply here. It was afternoon.
Hoping to get him going again, she teased his ball sac with her nails and grinned salaciously as he jumped and then bowed toward her. His balls rolled slowly in their sac, shifting at her touch as though they had an internal motor. That had always fascinated her about a male’s anatomy.
“That feels incredible, Renee, but I have to take you.”
Damn, she was going to have to get herself off again. Were all the great lovers only found in books, movies, and women’s imaginations?
Maybe. Ross rolled himself to straddle her as he attempted to line up his staff to her sexy entrance, the one she had highlighted by her newly trimmed landing strip. Renee’s hand slid down her belly to her clit to massage the nerve center that lay between them as he prepared to enter her.
Men never remembered that women liked friction to get off. Often it was that action that shot her to the moon, not their ramming, although that was nice too if done right. She might have wanted a little back door action too, but maybe another time.
After a few grunts and “oh, baby” repeated several times, Renee heard Ross say through gritted teeth, “Okay, baby, here I...”
The crash was unreal for a second. An explosion of sound resonated throughout the room, and Renee’s teeth ached with the vibration. The door bounced back from the wall that it had slammed into and now stood midway between open and closed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the large hole in the wall.
“What the holy hell! Whoever you are, get off my sister before I break your neck.”
“Stryker, what are you doing? Oh. My. God. Get out,” Renee screamed.
The bed shifted, moving her as well. Renee suddenly realized that what was equally disturbing was the fact that Ross didn’t join her in yelling at Stryker to get out. He yelled, but not at Stryker. It sounded like Ross had just climaxed without her. Fuck! Ross rolled off her so fast, she barely noticed it until the cold air hit the front of her very sweaty naked body.
“Fuck, Stryker, get out of my room.” Renee’s language became baser the further into meltdown she went.
Ross, no longer a candidate for her knight in shining armor award, pushed her nearly out of bed to scramble over her. He might be twenty-five, but he acted like he was a schoolboy caught by his parents in his first-time necking event with his junior school squeeze.
“Ross, where are you going? Dammit, we’re consenting adults!” She didn’t even see him as he’d ducked down, likely looking for his tossed items of clothing.
Stryker had left, only to return with a tee-shirt, likely his, that he tossed in her direction. He then moved further into the room to allow yet another spectator to enter the fray.
“You said no one was home,” said Ross in a voice that held condemnation.
“No one was home but are you fucking telling me you’re leaving because of my brother? We’re adults,” she repeated. “We can have sex.” She glanced at the two men now in the doorway and pulled the spread over her naked body. “These baboons are in my room without an invitation. You, however, have one.” Not that it would matter now. No scratching her itch today. She looked at Stryker venomously. He stared back, equally furious.
The only one who appeared like he was ready to leave was Ross. He looked at Stryker and said, “Sorry, man.”
To which Stryker responded with a primal grumble that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Oh, save me from overprotective brothers. Ross had left her like a targeted rabbit, and suddenly she remembered why Stryker had thrown her the large tee-shirt. She was buck naked in front of her brother and his friend. Oh, and now another brother. The best defense is a good offense, right? She knew how to deflect, too, if need be. She held Stryker’s shirt in front of her.
“The door is open, so by all means, join the party Carson, Seamus. Did you bring Callen? Maybe pull Declan from class for this little soiree?”
Stryker’s red face shown garnet under his olive complexion that had been made darker by the sun. For a short few seconds, he looked at her like she was the source of all evil, and he was about to rid the earth of that evil. That expression made way for another, more familiar, dominant air that she had a few qualms about, but staying with her offensive tactic, she ignored his warning vibes.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” she yelled. “This is my room, my domain, and I don’t need your permission to have a little fun.”
Stryker’s nostrils flared as he approached her like she was his prey. Renee watched as the eldest Red Eagle son approached her while she pulled to a sitting position in the center of the bed. She held the spread and shirt in front of her.
Stryker, a former black operations leader that had been held for over six weeks before his brothers-in-arms had liberated him leaned down close to her face. The man who now ran an ever-growing empire was in protective mode, and Renee knew what that meant. Recklessly, she ignored her trembling belly when she saw the black of his eyes and felt the heat radiating off his skin. A rampaging warrior.
She spoke, but her insides quivered. “Stryker, you jerk, you didn’t even leave me long enough to at least get an orgasm out of the whole thing to make this fiasco worth the effort.” Her disgust was clear. Her fearful bravado was leaving a stench in the room.
Too late, she realized her mistake. She had taunted the lion, and he struck back.