Trouble at the Treble T by Desiree Holt Page A

to steel and a low ache set up in his balls. Was she sending him some kind of signal? He’d sure like to find out.
    “You won’t get any answers by staring at her,” Justin chuckled.
    “Maybe I just did,” he said, almost to himself.
    “Well, she won’t be interested on a Friday night, anyway,” Justin pointed out. “She’s got all she can handle behind that bar and more.”
    “Maybe so, but we’ve been too damn busy at the ranch. We’ve done so long without that my hard-on might not go away for weeks.”
    Mark laughed and leant across the table. “Then we’d best figure out what to do about that.”
    At that moment, the fates delivered a bundle into his presence in the form of Shannon Moore. Five seven, curved in all the right places, blonde hair tumbling down her back in lustrous curls. Cade knew every inch of that body, as did his brothers. She’d played their games more than once. When she plopped herself into his lap, he wondered if she was ready to play again.
    She looped her arm around his neck and put her mouth right next to his ear, her breath like a warm breeze, and murmured, “Long time no see, cowboy. How’s tricks?”
    He wrapped an arm around her waist and shifted her so his cock pressed firmly against her bottom. “Feel that? Tell you just how things are?”
    Her face flushed red and heat flared in her eyes. “How about a dance?” She looked at Mark and Justin. “One with each of you?”
    Justin grinned. “Suits me. But one of these times I want to go first.”
    She laughed as Cade stood and set her on her feet. “Invite me over again and I think that can be arranged.”
    There was a brief pause in the noise level before the jukebox clicked over to the next tune and cranked out Thompson Square’s slow honky tonk melody, Are Y ou Gonna Kiss Me Or Not?
    “That’s our cue,” Cade said, leading Shannon to the dance floor.
    He wedged them into a tiny space at a corner of the floor then pulled her body hard against his. She leaned against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and sighed when his hands lowered to grab the cheeks of her ass tightly. He ground his pelvis against hers as they caught the rhythm of the music.
    “Feel that, sugar?” he murmured in her ear, below the noise level. “Feel just how hard I am.” His cock was pressing hard into her pussy, her heat blazing into him even through the layers of their clothing.
    “Oh, yeah,” she breathed.
    Cade glanced quickly around and realised half of the people on the dance floor were all but fucking to music with their clothes on. Bodies were glued to bodies, hips swaying, arms wrapped around each other.
    Jesus! Cade thought. At least no one — especially Marti —i s paying attention to us.
    He closed his eyes momentarily, inhaling Shannon’s familiar essence, the light perfume she always wore that had become so familiar with all their sessions together.
    And that’s what they are, he reminded himself. Sessions. Hours together, the four of them, to play their erotic games. He knew the sexual desires of the Thompson brothers had become well known in the county. Almost notorious. While they were highly respected as ranchers, they were envied by most men for their sexual activities. And there never seemed to be a shortage of women to accept their invitations.
    He opened his eyes and glanced around again. Marti was busy at the bar pouring drinks, not looking up at all. If he kissed Shannon on the dance floor, she would hardly notice.
    “Well, sugar? Like the song says, are you gonna kiss me or not?”
    In tacit invitation, she tilted her face slightly.
    Cade shifted his head so his mouth could find hers. As they swayed to the music, he licked the outer edges of her lips, tasting the lingering flavour of the margarita she must have had earlier before sliding his tongue into her hot, willing mouth. Her own tongue met his, dancing with it, gliding over its surface.
    Oh, yeah . Thank you, Shannon, for saying hello tonight. I damn