Allister, J. Rose - Discarded Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

BOOK: Allister, J. Rose - Discarded Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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“Amran,”
she kept saying, shaking her head and trying to leave the tent.
“Choxani amran.”

The others finally caught on and twisted around to see Talaitha, who was now standing beside her cot. Everyone froze, and she knew why Meriya was in such a panic. To give birth in front of an unclean woman, the “cursed witch,” as Meriya called her, would be unthinkable. Talaitha had held hands quite literally with darkness. Her presence could bring a blight upon both Meriya and the baby.

Being stared at by eyes that refused to meet hers was an awkward, yet familiar sensation. Without a word, for the women would not speak to her directly anyway, Talaitha picked up her lantern and bedroll. Careful to keep the book hidden inside, she avoided their terrified expressions and hurried from the tent.

Tears threatened for the third time that day while she carried her blanket with her to nowhere, wondering what to do next. Mother and child would take up residence in the tent for a while, both considered unclean from the birthing process. There was a spare tent for solitary use, but as they were still setting up camp and it was rarely needed, it certainly would not have been brought out yet.

Or had it? News of her ordeal had no doubt spread through the entire group by now. Perhaps her father would have ordered the tent set up for her before remanding himself to the larger, more comfortable men’s marime tent. His offense was not considered as grave as hers, as he had kept the wolves at arm’s length and not touched them directly. He had simply touched her, made unclean secondhand. Of course, the fact that he’d touched her with a threat on her life was another matter, a dire and serious offense between Romani that would no doubt be judged by the
kris
had he had not been Zakono, clan leader. His very name meant “the law” in Romani, and he had been so in their clan since before Talaitha was born.

Twilight rested heavily on the campsite, moonlight on its heels as she circled the perimeter farthest from the RVs, pop-up trailers, and vans that the majority of the clan lived in. This would be the most likely spot for the solitary tent, removed from sleeping and eating quarters. Sure enough, she saw the tent pitched and waiting a short ways off. She headed for it, but paused with a frown when she saw a soft glow of light emanating from within the dark nylon tent fabric. She crept forward in silence and listened, catching the sound of agonized moaning and a male voice.

“Rest easy, Vanje.” It was her father speaking. “These herbs intensify the pain, I’m afraid, but are necessary to burn the evil from your wounds.”

She blinked. Poor Vanje. She’d forgotten all about him in the wake of her own problems. He’d not only been wounded, but declared unclean in the process. Obviously he had not been bitten, or her father would have put him down. He would never allow one of his own to suffer the fate of becoming a shifter. Still, his contact with the werewolf had been the greatest of the three of them, meaning Vanje could not share the men’s tent with others, nor be tended by the healers. They would become marime, too, and unavailable should any others fall ill. Instead, her father tended him personally. Always the shining knight to come to the aid of any of his people. Except for her, of course.

A rumble went through her stomach as she turned away from the tent. Even if there had been room in the tent for a third werewolf-defiled Rom, a woman could not share it with them. Nor could she return to the small RV she and her father traveled in—she would defile it. There was nowhere for her to go. She would serve her time of cleansing beneath the stars, out in the open but safely within the perimeter spell guarding the camp. Safe, even, from any other wolves prowling on this full moon night, seeking lost pack mates.

I never realized my mate was a Gypsy.

Although it was the last place she should want to venture, she found herself drawn to an odd feeling of security lying just ahead. That sense of safety called to her, ironically from the most dangerous spot in camp. She headed toward it until they were almost within her eyesight, creeping quietly behind bushes until she was close enough to spy on the two caged werewolves without them seeing her.

It was with no small surprise that she saw both wolves had shifted back into human form. While her father’s spell had been cast some hours ago, the full moon was about to breach the heavens. The change back indicated both of them had developed control over their other natures.

The men sat facing her with their backs against the cage bars. They were still naked, of course, and wrong though it was, she took advantage of her hiding place to fully explore what that meant. Drew’s head rested against the back of the cage, his cleft chin tilted up slightly as he watched the darkening evening sky. His neck was long and lean, but nothing on that man could be called slender. Every place her gaze landed offered another feast of carved, muscled flesh that was smooth and quite bronzed for a pale, blond gadje. Although, judging from his black patch of pubic hair, he was no natural blond. She’d never heard of a man coloring his hair before. Although his thick cock invited her stare, she lifted her gaze to the almost-white locks he wore in a short, spiky style. The roots were dark, too.

Romani women did not color their hair, let alone the men, and she wondered how he got it that way—and why he would bother with such a curious thing. She couldn’t say the results were unattractive, though. That platinum hair really brought out the ice-blue of his eyes, especially when the light of day had still shone on them. Now, the yellow flecks were what stood out most as he lowered his head and turned to the man beside him.

Her eyes followed, and her stomach jumped at the sight of Russell reclining with one leg bent and an arm resting lazily over his knee. He was leaner and longer than Drew, but his muscles were no less appealing beneath the chest and body hair that she was more used to glimpsing on Gypsy men. The way his wavy brown hair swept carelessly across one brow, almost concealing one glittering eye, gave him an appeal she found difficult to turn away from. Still, her stare trailed along the hard lines of his chest, down past his abdomen to the girth on unabashed display as he sat with his knee bent. The longer she stared at his cock, the harder her heart pounded. Then she slid her gaze to Drew’s member and began comparing the two. She shouldn’t be here at all, considering Russell was the reason for her current status. And hiding in a bush, debating which of two men had the longer cock, well, she was acting like nothing less than a shameless tramp. Worse than that, she didn’t seem to care. Her stomach warmed while she took in Russell’s thicker cock, then Drew’s, which seemed as long and sleek as he was.

Their conversation brought her attention upward to Drew’s angular, narrow face. “I can’t believe you got us stuck here,” he said. “All because you wanted to chase a pretty skirt.”

“At least I found my mate,” Russell said, rubbing his palm over his bent knee. “What about you?”

Drew cocked his head. “If you’ve found your mate, then I reckon I’ve found mine, too. And I think you know that.”

Talaitha frowned. What was he talking about? The way Drew was staring at Russell twisted her stomach as tight as her braid, but Russell didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. In fact, his eyes began glittering more brightly, too. Or perhaps it was just because the sky was darkening so rapidly now. The moon would rise in minutes.

“I’m not an idiot, contrary to earlier comment,” Russell said in a slow drawl. “I knew exactly why you stayed put when I entered this cage.”

“Then I suppose the question now is, which one of us enters whom?”

The men fell silent, but a great deal was happening between them as they regarded each other with hypnotic stares. Talaitha felt the air thicken until she could barely catch her breath. Her attention shifted downward when a flicker of moment caught the corner of her eye, and she sucked in a breath. Their cocks were twitching in their laps, growing longer and stiffer by the moment. When she glanced up again, Russell’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips while his eyes dipped to Drew’s mouth. It was obvious he wanted to kiss him. Emotions began flip-flopping in her chest at the thought.

She had heard in the vaguest of whispers that werewolf males were known to mate with each other, but such things were not openly discussed in Romani circles. Her father would probably sooner speak of the dead than of male perversions. She had to admit, part of her had been secretly flattered at Russell’s recognition that she was mate potential. Russell showing similar interest in Drew should put her off, if not outright disgust her. So why was her stomach heating, and why were her panties growing damp? Why was she silently hoping Drew would claim Russell’s waiting lips? She licked her own lips reflexively at the thought and then caught her breath when Drew slid a hand between his legs to stroke a palm over the length of his erect cock.

“Do I sense this is goin’ to become a challenge?” Drew asked. “Or are you smart enough to concede I’m the bigger man?”

Russell’s gaze dropped to watch the other man rub himself. “I reckon you mean to say you’re the
better
man. Definitely not bigger.”

“Big enough to make you scream.” His words grew ragged as his hand motions became more vigorous. “So what’s it gonna be, Russ?”

Russell rose with a lazy smile, standing with his hands on his slim hips and his cock jutting out by Drew’s face. “If you want me, you’re gonna have to take me.” He bent over to Drew’s lips. “Before I take you.”

Talaitha’s wish came true when Drew grabbed Russell’s face and kissed him, hard and deep with a male grunt that sent a shiver through her. Russell straightened and shoved Drew sideways, up against the adjacent bars. Far from angry, however, Russell’s lips were curved in a sexy smile that sent her pulse racing. He was enjoying this.

“The moon’s comin’,” he said in a rough tenor. “Feel it?”

Drew nodded and got to his feet. “You’ll be
comin’
soon yourself once my cock is deep in your ass.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The two men circled one another with tight smiles, both bent slightly as the cage wasn’t quite tall enough to allow them to stand fully upright.

“You know what we have to do,” Russell said.

“So do we let on that we know our woman is watchin’ now, or later?”

Talaitha’s eyes widened at the smile breaking out over both their faces.

“I reckon if we tell her now,” Russell said, “she’ll have a better view than she’s got hidin’ behind the bushes.”

“Good point.” Drew spun around and stared directly where she was standing. “How about it, darlin’? Ready to come out and face the music?”

She stiffened, listening to her heart thunder in her ears while she debated what to do. Should she give herself up? Or sneak off and let them feel stupid for talking to thin air?

“There’s no point pretendin’ you ain’t there,” Russell added, moving to the front of the cage. “We do have enhanced senses, you know. Heard you the moment you came up. Plus your scent is quite distinct.”

“And intoxicatin’,” Drew added.

“That she is,” Russell said. “Even if she is trouble with a capital Gypsy.”

That did it. She put down the blanket and lantern before stomping out from the bushes, hands on her hips.

“That comment brought her runnin’,” Drew said with a sarcastic grin.

“Just what is your problem with Romani, anyway?” she asked, glaring at Russell.

With his head still ducked down, he folded his arms. “Besides them tellin’ me lies so they could lure me into a trap, you mean?”

She ignored the pang of guilt. “You had a problem with me being Romani before then, when we were out in the woods.”

He shook his head. “You imagined that, darlin’. I didn’t have a problem with you then.” He slid down onto his knees and grabbed the bars, bringing his intense gaze closer to hers. “But now I’d say you’ve got me in a right big problem.”

She swallowed. “No use trying to use that come-hither tone on me. I can’t let you out of there.”

“That ain’t the problem I’m talkin’ about.” She stifled a gasp when his hand slipped between his legs to handle the cock she could barely keep her eyes off of. “You got us all worked up in quite a state, what with you starin’ at us from the bushes and smellin’ the way you do. And now you’re on the wrong side of these bars for my preference.” He tapped them with his free hand while the other glided back and forth over his stiff erection.

BOOK: Allister, J. Rose - Discarded Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
11.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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