Destined (5 page)

A single tear fought its way past
her blinking against them, and meandered down the curve of one cheek. She
brushed at it and winced at the feeling of grit. The bus hadn’t felt clean, and
sitting outside in the concrete jungle wasn’t helping, but it was better than
being inside the depot that smelled of people and other stuff she didn’t want
to think about. Not to mention the man who was even now lurking after her,
ignoring her firm response that he get lost. How was she going to continue
without Ash and Craig in her life?
Without even a phone call
or an email?
All that time on the bus planning her future—poorly—and
refusing to think about them hadn’t helped. The way that lock of dark blond
hair flopped down over Craig’s forehead until he shoved it back into place, his
big, scarred hands, marred by all the work he did with the cattle and ranch
maintenance.

His tall, strong body was nearly
identical to Ashton’s, and they could have passed as twins in many respects.
Ash’s hair was brown, and of course his eyes a different shade of blue, but
still… She had only to look at him and her bones would melt, and she had to
clench her fists so as not to touch him. Their personalities were very
opposite. Ash was the strong, silent type, always thinking and planning. Craig
tended to be outgoing and wore his emotions more visibly. She shivered a little
at the thought of how Craig would react to her leaving. For a moment that
morning during her embarrassing tell-all, she’d wondered if he’d been of a
different mindset than Ashton. But it didn’t matter. They were a matched set
and as such unavailable to the likes of her.

Maybe if she’d acted the seductress
during her hormonal teen years, instead of hiding her need. Except that wasn’t
her either. They were lucky to be rid of her. She’d probably be lousy in the
sack anyhow, despite two experienced teachers. She gritted her teeth against
the flush of desire gripping her lower belly and the jealousy coursing through
her veins. It was time she got her act together and made a new life for herself,
and stopped this insane parade of memories. Who knew what Canada would bring?
Maybe there were some fine cowboys up there, too.

Checking her cell, she noted the
bus would be arriving in under an hour, and then she’d travel well into the
night. It was still summer but the days would fly by quickly, and she’d heard
winters up north were worse than here. She tucked her phone back into her purse
and settled in to wait and avoid thinking about Ashton and Craig at all costs. The
squicky
guy was still hovering, and she was glad
there were people around, as she resolutely ignored him.

A black truck cruised along behind
the line of buses, and she idly wondered if the driver couldn’t read. The area was
clearly marked for no traffic other than the buses themselves. As it drew
closer, the emblem on the side grabbed her attention, and her heart jumped into
her throat.

Oh
my God.
The Rolling
R Ranch.
Ash’s
truck.

Climbing to her feet on legs that
no longer wanted to hold her, she floundered, not knowing what to do next. She
was so darn happy to see them materialize after thinking about them, but
instinct told her to run. A big hand grasped her bicep in an inflexible hold.

“Going someplace, darlin’?” Craig’s
stern visage loomed in her line of vision, eyes nearly black with anger.
Oh, shit.
He must have gone in through
the front of the depot and come out the back while Ash drove along here. She
tamped down the burst of heat that surged clear up from her pussy.

“I’m going to Canada,” she
announced, proud of only a tiny wobble in her voice, because her knees were
knocking to beat the band.

“Not.” He walked her to where Ash
had drawn up into a fortuitously empty lane, blithely ignoring more posted
signs.

Ash jumped out and came to meet
them, a study in outraged male, and her belly clenched even as her pussy
thrummed harder. She wasn’t afraid of them, but she was scared shitless. It
didn’t matter if made no sense. She leaned sideways, and Craig handed her off
to his brother like a package. He half carried, half dragged her to the truck,
yanking open the back door. It struck Sinclair that there were still other
passengers standing about, and that they’d drawn the attention of at least one
driver and a security guard. The latter was straightening his uniform shirt and
strutting their way, and it was now or never. If this didn’t look like a
kidnapping in process, then people were freaking blind. She opened her mouth … and
closed it when a large hand fit itself over her bottom and squeezed.

“Get in the truck, Sinclair.
Now.”

With a combination of a mad
scramble and a lift of Ash’s hand—via her bottom—Sinclair found herself
sprawled across the wide leather seat. She raised her head to see her luggage
sailing into the bed of the truck, and then Craig followed her inside. He
shifted her over with a press of his hip and dropped her purse and laptop to
the floor.

“Hey, mister.”
The security guard was hard on Ash’s heels. “There’s no parking here.”

“Sorry. Our woman should have been
waiting out front. We’ll get out of your way right now.” Ash shut the truck
door in the guard’s face and threw the vehicle into gear. Any thought of
speaking up faded with a glimpse of Ash’s features reflected to her via the
rearview mirror.

Crap.

Wait
a minute.
Their
woman?
What was that all
about? Not their sister, then. She carefully looked at Craig, who still
appeared royally pissed. He caught her glance and said, through his teeth, “You
might just want to be quiet for a bit until we negotiate the traffic.”

There was plenty she’d like to say,
but for the life of her she was having trouble formulating it all, her senses
invaded by Craig’s spicy scent and the heat of him, so close beside her. Ash
favored a citrus soap and shaving gel, she recalled, and surreptitiously
sniffed to see if she could smell him.

“Are you crying?” Ash snapped the
question, and Craig stiffened.

“What? No, why would I be crying?”

“Maybe because
you didn’t get away?
Or maybe because you know we’re
gonna
take you to task for running in the first place.” Ash glared at her from the
mirror.

“I’m not crying. And you’re not the
boss of me.”
Oh, real grown up, Sinclair.
Schoolyard stuff.
Quickly, she added, “I’d like to
know what’s going on.”

Craig distinctly said, “You’ll be
finding out soon enough.”

His dark threat didn’t make her
feel anything other than
aroused,
and how weird was
that? Maybe it was the way he looked at her, nothing like he’d look at a
sister
. She felt the heat of those eyes
as they drifted over her face and to her breasts.

The bus depot wasn’t far from the
outskirts of the small city, and she became aware Ashton was consulting the
GPS. He traced a line on it and grunted in apparent satisfaction, then pulled
off to follow a country road rather than go back to the interstate.
Curious.

“What do you know about ménage?”

Startled, she turned her attention
to Craig. “Uh, whatever the internet could tell me, I guess. And whatever I
figured out, picked up from you and Ash.
And Melinda.”
She didn’t mention any of the other female names she’d gleaned from listening
to the gossip around the area.
Or how hot the idea of being
sexual with her two men made her.

“We have no interest in Melinda.”
Sinclair felt like she was watching a tennis match as she looked back at Ash.
His look in the mirror was steady.

“I thought…” she faltered.

“You thought because you
eavesdropped at the vent like you did when you were little.
And
didn’t hear it all.”

“I heard you talk about the girl
next door and about Melinda. And … and
me
not being
like the women you favored. You’re ashamed to be with me.” Her voice cracked on
the accusation, and she willed it not to be true.

Ash’s hands came off the wheel in a
“heaven help me” gesture he used to use around her all the time, and Sinclair
bit her lip. Craig made a sound so close to a growl she of course snapped her
head in his direction.

“I’m not waiting to get home, Ash.
Figured you aren’t either, seeing as we aren’t on the interstate. I’ve been
thinking about this since I read that goddamned note where you verbally smacked
us in the head, Sinclair.”

“Thinking about what?” She nearly
shrieked as he hauled her over his lap, reversing her body as neatly as any
calf he’d roped, to trap her legs between his own muscular ones. The top of her
head rested on the hump on the floor behind the console.

“Craig, I’m driving.” Ash was
protesting, but not interfering. She struggled.

“Then adjust the mirror to bear
witness or find a private place to pull over. I’m not waiting. We were taught
not to string punishment out. Sinclair listened to a private conversation,
then
didn’t hang around to hear us out. And she ran away
like a spoiled brat.”

Punishment.
Sinclair tasted the word and assessed her position. She’d never been spanked
and didn’t plan to change that fact. Besides, they were as much to blame as she
was. “Quit that.”

Craig’s big hand,
maybe a tad bigger than Ash’s, smoothed over her jean clad buttocks.
He
followed it with a solid whack, and it freaking stung. Her scream nearly
overshadowed Ash’s curse, and she felt the truck weave to one side and come to
a shuddering halt.
Saved.

Another smack, this one on her
right buttock, testified to the point the bucket seat had been slid forward to
give him more working room.
What the
hell?
She struggled against his hold and flailed her arms, grabbing behind
her. All that did was give Craig the opportunity to gather both wrists in one
of his hands and pin them against the small of her back.
Whack.
She yelled at him to stop. Her ass was heating up and
stinging. A blast of warm air and the smell of country washed over her as Ash
exited the truck before his door slammed shut again. The rear passenger door
opened and she relaxed, waiting for him to make his crazy brother see reason.

“Good hold.” Ash sounded grudgingly
approving.
What?

“I can’t paddle her bare ass. Not
enough hands. She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Wait.” She lifted her head and
blew her hair out of her face, but they weren’t listening. She felt fingers
shove between her waist and Craig’s hard thighs fumbling at the opening to her
jeans. “Hey!”

“You researched ménage, darlin’.” Craig’s
deep voice was laced with erotic promise, and she could feel herself getting
damp. “Two pairs of hands, two sets of lips, and two cocks.
All
for one woman.”

“But you’re spanking me.”

“And it probably won’t be the last
time, if you pull stunts like this,” he promised, and Ash succeeded in
unfastening her pants, tugging them down over her hips. He pinched her ass when
she tried to use her weight to gainsay the slide of the material, and her
flinch allowed the fabric to move freely. She squeezed her eyes closed so
tightly she saw white spots, her lower body exposed to the elements—and them.
God, had she even worn cute underwear? At least she’d groomed last night.

A hard, callused hand stroked over
her bare skin, passing from high on her hip to her thigh. She heard the
reverence in Ash’s voice, and it made things better. “She’s got skin like
satin, Craig.”

“It’ll feel better hot. And look
sweet in pink.”

Lord, she knew she was in for it.
Their anger was still hovering beneath their obvious appreciation of her nether
regions, but she hoped the worst was over.
Besides,
they blew me off this morning.
Relaxing her guard was a mistake when her
unprotected flesh was the recipient of a formidable spank, followed by another and
another. She lost count at five and by then was weeping uncontrollably, her
tears dripping over the curve of her cheeks.

And then she was gathered up onto
Craig’s lap, on one hip in deference to her throbbing buttocks, and Ash was
crowding in beside them, tucking her head beneath his chin. His steady
heartbeat soothed her angst, and she sniveled into more controlled breathing.
He mopped at her face with a wad of tissues, and she was so glad she eschewed
makeup. Raccoon eyes would be the last straw.

As she came back to herself, she
became aware of Craig rubbing her back and drifting his fingertips over her
bottom, the light touch somehow easing the soreness there. A massive, pulsing
bar of flesh, separated from her by his jeans, pressed into her abdomen. She
hoped it was her near nakedness that had aroused him and not beating her ass,
although it was likely both. She’d read about those things. And truthfully, her
pussy was still wet, despite the punishment, if not because of it, and the
nature of the way it was administered. They’d clearly done it because of their
strong reaction to her flight—and the risk she’d taken. Easing her head away
from Ash, she glanced down and saw the evidence of a matching erection caged in
his pants.
Hoo
, boy.
Two of everything.

She looked out the window and saw
they were screened by a stand of bushes, and understood that Ash had taken care
not to take her … spanking public.

“We’re going home, honey.” Ash dug
a blanket from somewhere, and Craig eased her onto the seat to drop it over her
from the waist down. She hoped her clothing accompanied her, as she snuggled
down with her cheek on Craig’s thigh. As she exhaled, the bulge in his jeans
visibly jerked, and she filed that away for another time. Her research might
have prepared her for what to expect, but there was nothing like lab and field
work.