Tempted by Renee Rose
6
CAITLYN
Wade’s cabinwas the kind of ‘little cabin in the woods’ that made me sigh dreamily.
Although it wasn’t all that little.
We’d walked there to get his truck, but he invited me in to get a drink before we headed out to hunt wolves.
“My grandfathers built this cabin for their mate—I mean, wife—back in the 1950’s,” Wade explained.
“Grandfathers? As in plural?” I asked.
The men glanced at each other.
“Yep. There’s a history of sharing women up here in West Springs, dating back to the first settlers.” Landry flashed me a bad-boy grin and adjusted his hat like he was proud of this heritage. “Probably had something to do with women being outnumbered by men, ten to one. As a result, threesomes became oddly normalized here. Wade had two grandfathers and one grandmother.”
“Just two parents, though.” Wade winked at me.
“That is crazy.” I remembered how they’d taken me over that boulder. I wasn’t opposed to the concept. I definitely hadn’t considered it before now, but I didn’t see anything wrong with it. “I’m not naive enough to think there aren’t such things as ménage, but it’s always in the context of sex. Only sex.”
Landry shook his head. “Sex, yes, but these are solid relationships, spending a lifetime together. Raising a family. It somehow works.” He shrugged. “Are your parents in Granger?”
“No, they live in Connecticut.”
“You are far from home,” Wade added.
“My parents have plans for me that don’t include wolves. They think I’m wasting my time, and have made it very well known.”
Maybe it was the shift in my voice, but they caught on to my bitterness.
I sighed and tried to make them understand. “They love me, but they want what they think is best for me. I don’t think they are intentionally mean, but they hurt my feelings by not valuing my dreams.”
“They are disrespectful.”
I shrugged at Landry’s observation.
“I like your concept. Close family ties, a common good to protect your land and community.”
“When we said we wanted you between us, we meant it,” Wade said.
I believed him. I wondered why it didn’t bother me, their alternate lifestyle. Oh yeah, because I’d been between them and it had been amazing. And the idea of forever with these two wasn’t as scary as it perhaps should be.
Forever? Now I was the one who was crazy. Right? Were they looking for something long term, or was this a keep the scientist satisfied while she’s here scenario? They’d done a good job of doing that so far. Knowing their beliefs in being with a woman, it felt… better. I didn’t question as much.
I blinked and steered my mind away from the outdoor sexy times. Made of rough-hewn logs, the place wasn’t a mansion, but it was large for one man. A pellet stove sat in one corner of the large living room, and the huge picture windows looked out over the pine trees and a well-established vegetable garden.
To complete the idyllic scene, a babbling brook ran along one side, with the sweetest little footbridge spanning it.
I stood at the window, imagining what it would be like to have this as my view every day. To live surrounded by nature. No other people. No traffic or street noise. Nothing but the wind through the trees. “Are those raspberry bushes?” I asked, pointing to a row of prickly plants at the edge of the clearing.
“Yep. And blackberry. Those were my grandmother’s. She baked the best pies,” Wade said.
I turned, leaned against the sink. “This is an incredible property. But I’m totally confused about why your grandfathers would build a house on property that didn’t belong to him? I mean… them. The Wests own this land, right?”
Wade flicked a glance at Landry, and scrubbed a hand across his face. “Well, back then, it was a tiny mountain town where everyone was related in one way or another,” he said. “Property was pretty much considered communal. It may say on paper that Gibson West owns all of this, but there is no scenario where he’d ever try to take possession of someone else’s house.”
Huh. I didn’t get it, but whatever. Absently, I moved out of the kitchen, which was a little outdated, but quaint with the butcher block island and farmer’s sink. I ran my hand along the back of his leather couch, peeked in the bathroom and couldn’t miss the huge shower, then stood in the bedroom doorway.
“You said Gibson’s your brother?” I asked Landry.
“That’s right,” he confirmed.
I heard his answer, but was distracted. The room had a vaulted ceiling, wood plank floors with a soft area rug, but it was the oversized bed which took up most of the space. I heated, thinking of the three of us in it. We would all fit. Better than the boulder.
I bit my lip, knowing the guys must have blue balls after earlier up in the meadow.
They were quiet, and I startled when Wade put his hand on my shoulder. “Debating?”
“What?” I asked breathlessly. I’d seen his bare chest. It was spectacular. I was eager to see more. But—
“You’re debating whether to fuck us or find those wolves, aren’t you?”
Landry moved to stand next to him. They were so big, I had to tip my chin back. My butt tingled still from the spanking, and my clit pulsed, eager for more.
“I-I…”
Landry laughed. “It either shows how into your research you are, or you doubt our abilities as lovers.”
I shook my head, afraid I’d insulted him. “No, it’s not—”
Landry stroked my hair back. “I’m kidding. Let’s go find your wolves. Then we can play.” He looked to Wade, who nodded.
“Yeah, when we get you in my bed, we don’t want you thinking about anything but us.”
Oh my.
Landry stepped back, then went to grab my backpack. “Ready?”
I took a deep breath, let it out. Was I making the right choice? Was leaving a cabin in the woods with two virile men who wanted to fuck me a stupid move?
My pussy said yes, but my mind said no.
Gah! My mind won, since they had said we’d do both. Wolves first, sex second. I brushed my hands over the front of my jeans. “Yes.”
Landry nodded. “Good. We’ll drive up to the ridge, then get out and hike for a while to see if we can spot any signs of wolves.”
We climbed into the cab of Wade’s truck. “It’s a Caitlyn sandwich.” Wade winked as he slid behind the wheel. His thigh pressed against mine on one side, Landry’s on the other.
My cheeks grew warm as my imagination took flight, picturing the other kinds of sandwiches we might make. An Eiffel Tower, maybe? When I was student teaching in Montana, I overheard a couple of very rude undergraduate boys saying they’d like to get me in an Eiffel Tower. I’d had to Google it to figure out what they’d meant. I hadn’t liked the idea with them, but with these two?
A low rumble sounded from Landry’s chest. “Whatever you’re thinking about, you’d better stop, or we’re going to cut this wolf-hunting expedition short and take you back to Wade’s bedroom.”
I choked on my breath. “How did you know what I was thinking?” I demanded.
Both men chuckled, but didn’t answer.
As we drove along the back road, I steered my mind away from sexy times and over to what Landry had said about wolves with trackers being killed. It was true, I had lost a couple of the wolves I’d been tracking last year, but I didn’t know why or how. Trackers could go dead. Animals could die of natural causes. There were areas of Wyoming where wolves were considered trophy game animals and could be hunted with a license, but the area Landry had mentioned wasn’t one of them.
It bothered me that any wolves had been killed. The fact that they had trackers was probably a coincidence, but I didn’t like it. Especially if their deaths were the result of ranchers who didn’t want to learn about the animals’ beauty and value to the American West.
Maybe that was why there were all the frequent calls about wolves to the various wildlife agencies. The ranchers were trying to entice the scientific community into proving there were too many by calling in every single sighting. Then again, Landry and Wade agreed that there were wolves in the area—even taking me now to go find some—so the sightings were probably real.
Tracking wolves wasn’t easy. It took a lot of patience, and the ability to put oneself in the predator’s shoes… er, paws. Plus, I had to learn to shoot a gun—just a tranq gun, of course—which was not a skill I’d ever thought I’d need back when I was getting that undergraduate biology degree. I had to admit, I was glad the guys were with me. The direction we were headed was nowhere near where they’d found me. I’d have spent my entire day searching in the wrong place.
And, if there were crazy people out shooting, my tranq gun wasn’t going to offer any protection. The rifle on the rack in the back window behind our heads was a better option. So were two big, brawny guys.
Wade pulled the truck off the side of the road. I looked around. There was no parking lot, not even a hint that someone had ever stopped here before. Thick pines blocked the view on both sides.
“We’re… here?” I asked.
Wade shut off the engine and opened his door. After he climbed out, he turned back and undid my seatbelt. Landry got out of the passenger side and held out his hand to me.
Wade pointed down the road. “There’s a stream there. We’ll follow it north, and there’s a big clearing about a quarter mile away. I expect we might find them up there.”
A quarter mile? Eagerness coursed through me and I went to the back of his pickup, but Landry beat me to my backpack. After he slung it over a shoulder, he took my hand again, and we followed Wade to the stream. We moved in single file after that. I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me since we were meandering along the water, not any real path.
After a few minutes, I was sweating, even shaded beneath the thick canopy. Just when I was about to ask them to stop to grab a drink from our water bottles, Wade put his hand out. Landry and I stilled beside him, and looked where he pointed.
I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. The clearing he’d mentioned was in front of us, but we were tucked back in the trees still. There, sunning themselves, were two wolves. Thick gray fur, perked up ears. I tore my gaze away from them and took in the environment. A sunny day. Mid-eighties. We were at around seven thousand feet. The clearing was about two acres in size, surrounded by a forest of lodgepole and ponderosa pines. There was fresh water and access to food such as squirrels, voles, rabbits, and other smaller creatures. I estimated we were four miles from West Springs, but still on West land.
These animals were protected here, not only by laws, but by Wade and Landry. No one bothered them… except me.
Landry held my tranq gun and I reached for it, but he shook his head and aimed himself. He frowned as he fired. The feminist in me wanted to protest but then he quickly and efficiently aimed and tranqed one, then the other.
“All right, then,” I said as both wolves went limp.
Landry held up a hand, like this was his operation and he was in charge, which I supposed he was. After a moment of watching the wolves, he nodded. “Let’s go.”
I didn’t love the grim expression on his face, like it pained him to have shot the animals.
“It’s a fast-acting tranquilizer but it only lasts an hour or so,” I assured him. “They won’t even know what happened.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” he countered as he stalked forward on long legs. He didn’t seem happy about what he’d just done, or the fact that I was going to chip them, even though they’d been the one to guide me there.
I ran past him and dropped to my knees beside the two drugged wolves. I pulled out my phone to record the details.
“Male, grey wolf. Approximately eighty-five pounds.” I inspected him, gently moving his limbs to check for disease or wounds or identifying marks. “Subject appears healthy, no visible scars. White markings on the forehead and the right front paw.”
Wade dropped my pack by my side and I immediately got to work, pulling out the bag of tracking chips and reading the number off one of them into my phone recorder. I inserted the microchip, which was about the size of a grain of rice, into the end of a syringe, then injected it between the beautiful male’s shoulder blades. Then I drew a vial of blood for genetic testing.
I repeated the entire procedure with the second wolf, which was the biggest I’d ever tagged. “Male, grey wolf, approximately one hundred and five pounds.” Once the necessary business was complete, I stroked the second wolf’s fur. “Look at you,” I crooned. “Aren’t you gorgeous? I’ll bet you’re the alpha.”
“He is,” Landry said softly.
I twisted my neck to peer up at him. He stood a few feet off, a troubled look still on his face. “How do you know?”
Landry shrugged.
Wade answered. “We’ve seen him before.”
I simply stared. There was something terribly appealing about men who respected wolves as much as I did. I’d never met guys like this before—mountain men who seemed to coexist with nature rather than dominate it. Even if the whole punishment-pleasure thing hadn’t happened earlier, these two would have me swooning.
I stroked the first wolf. “You’re beautiful, too,” I told him. “Thank you for participating in my study. I’m just going to be tracking your whereabouts from now on, so I can learn more about your territorial habits.”
“Do you always thank them?” Wade asked.
“Yes.” I ducked my head. “You know they say people can still hear things on a subconscious level when they’re under anesthesia. Some people ask their doctors to give them hypnotic suggestions while they’re under. So I figure thanking them and explaining how they’re contributing to science can’t hurt.” I flushed because I knew it might sound a little looney. “I name them, too. Not for the study, but for me. White Paw, and Comet.” Yes, I liked those names for these two.
“That’s… very sweet,” Wade observed. “Isn’t it, Landry?”
Landry’s jaw was clenched and his muscles were taut. Ever since he’d fired the tranq gun, he’d been upset. Angry. I just didn’t understand why.