Several rodeos held an afternoon performance as the first go-round; the final go-round was the evening performance. If Kyle placed in the top ten, he had to return for the second performance for a chance at winning the event. Every night after the bull riding ended, they were back in the truck, on the road, racing off to the next event on the list.

So far it’d paid off. Kyle finished in the money at every stop except Miles City. Ironically, that’d also been the last time they’d indulged in the no-holds-barred type of threesome. Heck, some nights they weren’t having sex at all. Hank and Kyle were too damn tired. Or she was bleary-eyed and exhausted from taking over the driving duties.

Part of her wondered if Kyle was superstitious. He hadn’t covered a single bull after indulging in the double-rider special. Since that night, they’d gone back to the f**k-and-suck variety of threesomes, and Kyle’s winning streak was back on track.

Lainie wasn’t bothered by the decrease in steamy sexual interludes between the three of them, as much as it bothered her that Kyle spent his limited free time with other CRA competitors—not with her and Hank. She was happy he’d forged connections; after all, Kyle had jumped into a new circuit midyear, and being the new guy sucked. She also understood Kyle’s desire to get the hell out of the camper.

Hank suffered from cabin fever and road weariness too. To combat it, he’d secured an entire day and one night at an actual cabin in the woods outside of Great Falls, Montana. Lainie had looked forward to it for days.

Rather than show gratitude about the small break in the taxing schedule, Kyle had turned surly. He hadn’t gone on the road to sit in a damn cabin. His only goal was to ride bulls, win money, and hit as many rodeos as possible. It hadn’t helped matters that Hank had reminded Kyle that he owned the rig they were driving. He made the final decision on their destination. Far as Hank was concerned, they were taking one day off. Period. If Kyle didn’t like it, he was free to make alternative arrangements.

So Kyle did just that. He’d hang out with them during the day, but in the evening he’d be competing at a tiny rodeo an hour away. An event that didn’t have official points or a decent purse, but one that allowed Kyle to stick with his goal to ride at least one bull every day.

Everyone was happy with the compromise.

So it made no sense that Lainie was cranky. She was in a beautiful secluded cabin, with all the amenities—a real shower, a puffy feather bed, a well-stocked kitchen.

Lainie didn’t like being cranky, especially when she couldn’t pinpoint the source of it.

“Why the sour face, sugar?” Kyle drawled.

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Thwack, thwack, thwack. She slid the red peppers off the cutting board and reached for a cucumber.

“Lainie?”

Thwack echoed again as the knife sliced through the thick green skin.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him. “Oh, are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

“The man in the moon,” she muttered.

Kyle frowned. “Did you say you’re in a bad mood?”

“Did you say you had stuff to do elsewhere?” she retorted sweetly.

“Jesus. What’s bugging you today?”

I don’t have a freakin’ clue. “Nothing.”

“Then why are you whacking the shit out of that cucumber?”

Lainie glanced down. Damn. She’d pulverized it. “It’s supposed to be finely chopped. Can’t you go annoy Hank for a while and let me cook?”

His eyebrow lifted. “Annoying you, am I?”

“Yep. Now scram.”

His eyes took on a hint of challenge. “I ain’t much liking your tone.”

“Too bad. I put up with your surliness all day yesterday and the day before, so you can suck it up.”

Silence. Not particularly pleasant silence.

“Oh, I think you’ll be the one sucking it up. Put down the damn knife.”

“I’m busy.”

“I don’t care. I said now.”

“Fine.” She let the knife clatter on the cutting board. “What do you want?”

“Same thing you do.” Kyle ambled around the center island. Grabbing her wrist, he towed her right out the front door, down the steps to the grassy area between the barn and the house.

Hank exited the barn and jogged over to them. He gave them a puzzled look. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I think Miz Lainie is missing us. But instead of coming right out and asking us to f**k her, she’s stomping around.”

“You know, I do believe you’re right, Kyle. She has been a mite sassy today.”

“Think if we filled that mouth of hers with c**k she’d still be sassy?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Lainie rolled her eyes. “Funny, guys.”

“Do you see us laughing? Strip down.”

“I’ll pass on a little slap and tickle. In the past couple of days, with you guys being so tired, I’ve taken care of my own needs, thank you very much.”

“Don’t need us, do you?” Hank shot back.

“Nope.” She flashed her teeth. “I just need more double-A batteries.”

Silence.

“That buzzing noise I heard when you were in the bathroom was you getting yourself off?” Kyle said. “Damn. I thought you were brushing your teeth.”

Lainie laughed, tossed her head, and started to walk off.




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