Read Online The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes by Linda Alvarez - Free Book Online Page A

about Miss Austin, here, I thought it might be a relief to her to let her hair down for an evening. So to speak.”
    Before Austin could reply, Harcourt had thumped DeVille on the arm. “I told you, hands off the wrangler!”
    “She’s not paying us,” DeVille pointed out. “What d’you think, Miss Austin? Care to be entertained by two fine and discriminating gentlemen?” DeVille appeared to be completely serious.
    Harcourt said, “Now wait just a minute, I never said—”
    DeVille held up a hand to stop his words, in a graceful gesture like an actor on stage. “We can’t leave you out—”
    “This woman is not a—”
    “Don’t say it. You have some cussed strange ideas about women—”
    “I respect women!”
    “So do I!”
    “You respect them right into bed with you!”
    “Jealous? That’s not my fault. I sure as hell invited you along enough times!”
    The two men glared straight into each other’s eyes as they argued. DeVille wore a strange half-smile, which appeared to enrage Harcourt more every second. They were sitting so close they could, Austin thought dizzily, lean forwards and kiss each other with no effort at all. Such a thing had never occurred to her before. She hadn’t even known she wanted to see it, until now.
    She sprang to her feet. “It’ll be both, or none!”
    DeVille snorted and shoved at Harcourt’s shoulder, then grinned. “I was right. They always like you best.”
    Harcourt glared at him, then stood and took off his hat. “Miss Austin, don’t let that silver-tongued rascal talk you into something you might regret. Please understand, we’ll keep your secret, there’s no need to worry about that.”
    Rough as it was, he did have a lovely deep voice. She could’ve listened to him all night. Now she’d have the chance. “That’s mighty kind of you,” she said, looking him up and down. His shoulders were broad and strong; his torso narrowed down to a waist more slender than hers. His thighs looked hard beneath his worn denim pants, and when she looked at the bulge his cock made beneath the fabric, her mouth watered. “But it’s you who don’t understand. I was married once. Earning my living the way I do, though, I haven’t been able to think about the pleasures of the flesh in a long time, because for sure, somebody would talk; and nobody’s going to put a woman, a fallen woman, in charge of their remuda. You two don’t have anything to do with that, do you? And I might as well make up for lost time.” She looked at DeVille and smiled.
    He said to Harcourt, “You can’t complain about this one’s intentions, can you?”
    Austin took a step closer to the men and tipped her hat back on her head. “You ain’t scared, Captain Harcourt?”
    He glanced at DeVille, then back at her. His fingers tightened on his hat brim. “You two might want to speak in private. Perhaps I should take my leave.”
    “Don’t,” Austin said. “Please?”
    DeVille reached out and slapped Harcourt’s leg. “Come on, Harcourt. For the lady.”
    Austin stepped forwards quickly, tugged Harcourt’s hat from his hand, and pressed her lips to his, interrupting whatever he had been about to say in protest. Her hat fell off. His lips were far softer than she’d expected, and he tasted like whiskey with all the burn gone.
    She dropped his hat in the straw and ran her gloved hand up his chest. That was nice and firm. She scrubbed her palm across a nipple, but she could barely feel it beneath his clothing. His fingers closed over her wrist and lifted it. “Are you sure about this?” he said. Flickers of lantern light reflected in his eyes and glistened off the new dampness on his lips.
    “As sure as shooting,” Austin said. “Get over here, DeVille.”
    “That’d be Virgil to you.”
    “Then I’m Sarah. Sarah Jane Austin.” Her free hand, ignoring the pleasantries, shaped Harcourt’s narrow waist and rubbed next to the knife sheath at the small of his back.
    Harcourt’s eyes