Yes, the title’s a little over the top, but I love word play and teasing, so I’m not apologizing!
Do you love cowboy menage stories? Love it when brothers are involved? How about the added taboo of the brothers going after their teacher? Well, I have a story that you will find very naughty, but surprisingly sweet…
Two Wild for Teacher releases July 28th! It’s one of the stories I got back from Samhain when they closed their doors. I’ve revised it, given it a new cover, and it’s ready for prime time! Read a long excerpt!
Even though it’s #6 in the series, the only story I’d say you need to read before this one is #5, Four-Gone Conclusion!
Lone Star Lovers, Book 6
Two bad boy cowboys need a little tutoring to learn how to love…
Fathers know to keep their daughters close whenever Sam Logan’s twin sons come to town. Those two hell-raisers have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. All of it earned. When it becomes clear his youngest sons won’t settle down without another nudge, Sam reissues his challenge. Find a wife…
There’s only been one woman who could hold their attention for more than one night, but she’s been out of reach. Their former teacher’s a little too worried about a pesky morals clause to let them close. But they’re older now and ready to prove to her that sometimes rules are meant to be broken…
Molly Pritchet thinks her path is predetermined: to always be a child’s teacher, never a mother or a wife. Until the two boys who tempted her way back when crash back into her life. Overwhelmed by yearnings she’s long suppressed, she’s swept along on a tide of forbidden desires.
Excerpt from Two Wild for Teacher
Sam Logan couldn’t sleep. He had one last chore to take care of. One he’d been putting off. No time like now to get ’er done.
He walked softly on bare feet down the long hallway, past the master bedroom he’d given up when Johnny married Ellie and moved both his new wife and his brother Killian into the large room to share it. He shook his head, a glimmer of a smile tugging at his mouth. Sounds that hadn’t been heard in this old house in over three long years echoed up and down the hallway.
Sexy sounds—happy sighs and laughter, slick slaps, an occasional yelp from Ellie. He could only imagine what his two oldest boys were doing to the girl. But they all seemed happy with the arrangement, and both men were gaga for Mean Ellie Harker. Who would have thought one simple pronouncement would produce such lightning-fast results?
It’s time you boys found yerselves a wife.
That’s all it had taken. Sam had disappeared for a long weekend to attend a cattle auction and give them time to think about what he’d said about what was missing from all their lives, only to return and find all four men looking as though they’d been wrung through a wringer and put up wet.
His sons hadn’t told him everything, but he’d heard the rumors—from Ole Win at the diner, who’d witnessed how the oldest two had swarmed Ellie like bees around a hive, and then from Wade Luckadoo, whose daughter had witnessed Ellie’s kidnapping by the twins but for some inexplicable reason hadn’t called the sheriff.
So, they hadn’t wooed Ellie in a traditional way. Didn’t much matter to Sam. A pretty woman stood in the kitchen every morning, a happy smile on her face, and all the boys had perked up, falling over themselves to please her.
These days, meals were an event. Ellie had been running the town’s only diner and knew how to cook a mean chili, sear steaks to perfection, and bake glorious pies.
The pies had become a bit of a joke in the house over the last month.
Ellie had figured out right off that Johnny loved apple pie. However, Killian wouldn’t commit, sampling the varieties she lined up on the counter every Sunday and sighing, but never telling her which one was his favorite.
Sam thought he knew why.
Killian wasn’t sure about his place in Ellie’s heart. She’d melted first for Johnny, but had accepted Killian in her bed, too, and even told him often that she loved him. Killian only half believed her, and given his upbringing, living in a house with two people who’d hated each other’s guts and whose anger had spilled over onto him, Sam understood why Killian had doubts anyone could love him.
Ellie’s unending search for the perfect pie to please Killian was her way of proving she loved him. From the way his second adopted son beamed each time Ellie introduced a new set to sample, Sam didn’t think Killian would ever tell her which pie he loved most.
Pie was taking on mystical properties, a true elixir of love in every bite. And pie was what the twins, the youngest of his brood, huddled over now.
A single light shining from the stove was all that lit the kitchen. The boys sat, bleary-eyed, blond heads in need of a good haircut and a comb, with elbows propping up their chins while they shoveled sweet pie into their mouths.
Sam crept in silently, opened a cabinet door and gave it a good slam.
Both boys jumped, startled stares swinging his way.
Mace gave Sam a tired grin. “Hey, Pa.”
Sam never tired of hearing that. The two older boys still called him Sam. The twins had been eager to accept him and Gracie as their parents when they’d first arrived for fostering. Something Gracie had loved as well. She’d always wanted to be someone’s mama. He felt a pinch in his chest at how happy she’d been—all the way to the end—surrounded by her boys. “Why aren’t you two in bed?” he snapped, his voice gruff. “You’ll be fallin’ off your horses tomorrow.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Mace grumbled, rolling his eyes.
“Why’s that?” Sam asked, although he had a pretty good idea why.
Mace grunted. “Too much damn noise. People gettin’ happy. Wish’t I was that damn happy.” He lifted his fork and turned to take another bite.
Sam came closer and peered over Mace’s shoulder. “That the cherry pie?”
“Mmm-hmm,” the younger twin groaned. “S’good.”
Sam arched a brow. “Think we should tell Ellie that Killian’s not a pie man?”
Both boys’ heads jerked up, eyes rounding.
“Hell, no!” Jason said around a mouthful of peach pie. “She might stop bakin’.”
“We’d still get lots of apple,” Sam said with a dry chuckle. “Girl wears herself out tryin’ to please y’all.”
“That ain’t what has her all wore out,” Jason muttered, then grimaced from the audible whack his brother gave his leg.
“You know,” Sam said, “there’s a simple solution to your problem…”
“Earplugs?” Mace quipped.
Sam shook his head. “Seems all y’all need is a little somethin’ to keep your minds off what you’ve got no business hearin’.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you’re gonna say. We need to find ourselves a wife.”
“A wife?” Mace murmured, his mouth stretching into a wide grin.
Both boys shared a glance then dipped their heads to continue milling into their pie. In that one glance, they seemed to share the same thought. And maybe they did. No two boys could be closer.
Men, Sam amended in his mind. They weren’t scrawny teenagers anymore. A woman, a good woman, would have herself a fine husband—if they could ever decide which would marry her.
“Strange times we live in,” Sam murmured, thinking about how the town was changing. Multiple men taking up with a single woman. He’d never have imagined it, but then, for him, there had only been Gracie. And she’d had eyes only for him.
On that melancholy note, he turned. Pie wasn’t going to satisfy his yearning. Sleep, a chance to dream about a golden-haired girl with freckles on her nose—that’s what he needed. “I’ll say good night. My job’s done. ’Night, boys.”
Jason turned his head to watch Sam leave the room, not liking the hint of sadness he’d seen in Sam’s eyes before he’d turned away. They all missed Gracie Logan, but none more than Sam. “Think he’s really okay with how things worked out for Johnny and Killian?”
“He hasn’t said a word about them holing up in the same damn bedroom. Don’t think he cares so long as everyone’s happy. Why you ask?”
“Don’t know. Sometimes, he gets a look.”
Mace nodded. “Know the one you’re talkin’ about, but I think it’s ’cause he’s missin’ Mom.”
Jason pushed away his empty plate and sighed. “Only thing’s gonna make him happy again is when we all start makin’ babies.”
Mace grimaced. “Think we don’t get any sleep now…” He shrugged. “It’s not like Johnny and Killian aren’t doin’ their best on that end. Still, Pa’s not gonna rest easy ’til we find a woman, too.”
“A woman?” Jason said, reminding his brother how Mace’s sly joke had started the ball rolling with Ellie. They’d been teasing Sam and had irked the hell out of Johnny, who’d taken Sam’s pronouncement as marching orders and didn’t like them making light of it. Jason felt responsible for how things had worked out. Johnny might never have considered sharing a woman with Killian if Mace hadn’t first planted that seed. Not that both Johnny and Killian didn’t appear satisfied with the arrangement. Still, it was his job to curb Mace’s wildness. He was the oldest. Little brother needed to get serious about this business of finding a wife.
Mace shrugged. “Be easier havin’ just one woman. Less yap. And we’ve got lots of practice sharin’.” He picked up his glass of milk and downed it in a couple of big gulps.
Jason knew Mace would prefer to drop the subject of the marrying part. The thought of taking a wife and starting a family made both of them feel itchy. Until they’d come to the Doubletree Ranch, they’d never known what a loving family could be like. Who knew whether they would follow their birth parents’ sorry footsteps rather than Sam and Gracie Logan’s? But Sam expected them to man up and give it a try. “How the hell we gonna find ourselves a woman?” he said aloud, although he didn’t really expect Mace to have the answer. He wasn’t the thinker. “We can’t settle on one for a whole weekend—how we gonna settle on one for the rest of our lives?”
Mace nodded. Then his blue eyes glinted, narrowed. He sat forward in his chair. “There’s only been one woman we ever wanted for longer than a day.”
Jason had an instant image of soft brown hair pulled back into a messy bun, dark-rimmed glasses perched on a pretty, slender nose, green eyes peering over the tops. He and his brother had fantasized about her for years. “She’s a pretty thing, but doesn’t even know it.”
“I like the way her eyes bug when she’s mad. She doesn’t like losin’ it.” Mace’s grin said he couldn’t wait to push her to the edge.
A smile twitched the corners of Jason’s mouth. Wouldn’t she be appalled to see them again? The thought didn’t dampen his enthusiasm one bit. On the contrary, just the idea of pursuing pretty Molly Pritchet caused heat to fill his loins. “We ain’t jailbait anymore,” he drawled.
“No, we ain’t.”
Both men shared wicked grins as they let the thought of what it might be like to seduce Miss Pritchet blossom.
“School’s out tomorrow,” Mace murmured.
Jason gave a firm nod. “She’s gonna have time on her hands. A whole summer’s worth.”
Both men scooted closer to the table, pie forgotten, and made their plan.
As she adjusted her burden in her arms again, Molly Pritchet wished she’d driven. She was hot, starting to sweat, and the muscles in her arms were beginning to burn with the weight of her box of personal items she’d emptied from her desk. Earlier, traces of roses and honeysuckle scenting the warm air had drawn her from her house, enticing her to get ready to embrace the last day of school and the start of her plans for a summer of blessed solitude, free of responsibility. That morning, she hadn’t wanted to think about anything but the pretty day, the flowers she’d purchased to set into their beds, and the small, decorative pond she wanted to install in her backyard.
Besides, walking to and from the little high school was the only real exercise she ever got.
With every passing year, she fought a little harder to keep padding from settling on her rear and upper thighs. So, she walked, getting more of a workout than she’d planned, but enjoying the sounds of lawnmowers growling, birds chirping, and children playing.
Lord, she loved the sounds of children. Not something that had changed over the eight years she’d been teaching. And it was a true joy to meet up with graduates who remembered her and stopped by to tell her about their lives, and how she’d touched them.
She might never have her own, but there were plenty of children she’d helped raise in her own limited capacity.
The sound of footsteps on the sidewalk—heavy tread, a little hollow—men’s booted heels, came from behind her, and she edged to the side to let whomever was approaching pass.
However, the steps slowed, and before she knew it, she had a man at each elbow.
Her breath caught when she recognized them. “Mason, Jason,” she said, hoping they’d take her reddening cheeks for exertion, not delight. She’d always had the most inappropriate thoughts where these two were concerned.
Some things never changed. They both looked so handsome and tall—shaggy blond hair curling beneath the brims of their straw cowboy hats, matching blue work shirts—nicely ironed—and dark Wranglers that molded to powerful thighs. The only notable difference in their appearance was their boots. Mace Logan’s boots were saddle-brown leather while Jason’s were black. She didn’t need visual clues to keep the two of them straight. Unlike most folks in Two Mule, she’d always been able to tell them apart. Mace had a lazy smile that invited a woman to linger. Jason was a tad sharper, with a keen glance that had burned right through more than one woman’s defenses, or so she’d heard.
Good Lord, she’d just checked them out, and from Mace’s slow grin and Jason’s razor gaze, they both knew it.
Two sets of blue eyes glinted with humor.
“Howdy, Miz Pritchet,” Jason said, his smile wide, perfect white teeth gleaming.
Mace cleared his throat, drawing her attention. Before she had a chance to sink into his brilliant blues, he reached out his arms. “Let me take that box for you.”
“No need,” she said, wheezing a bit because she couldn’t manage a deep breath with both of them towering over her. “I need the exercise. Home’s not far.” She knew her voice was a little shrill, but she couldn’t help it. She needed them gone before her cheeks heated until they were as purple as sugar beets, and she really started to sweat.
The Logan boys, these particular two, were trouble with a capital T. Any sensible woman would steer well clear of them. A teacher with a pesky morals clause in her contract had even more to worry about. “I swear I can manage this box on my own. Always have.”
Mace gave her a crooked smile. “Didn’t say you couldn’t manage it on your own, ma’am. But why deprive us of a chance to do a good deed?”
Stiffening her spine, she gave him her best “teachery” steel-eyed glance. “You’re here to do a good deed? Why do I suddenly feel like an old lady a Boy Scout’s about to help cross the road?”
“Oh, you’re not old, Miz Pritchet, and we’re not Boy Scouts,” Jason piped in, probably to get her flustered because she had to look left and right to hold this conversation. Her foot stumbled on a rock, and she fell forward.
Hands reached to grab the box, another slipped around her middle.
Breathless and embarrassed, she let go and tried to straighten away from a hot palm that branded her lower back.
Jason bent toward her while Mace juggled the box. “I know you’re a little flustered, but if you’d quit fightin’ us, this’d be over so much quicker,” Jason whispered then gave her a wink.
Molly gulped, cheeks aflame, but she gave a terse nod and lifted her chin. “Your hand is no longer needed,” she said, her voice clipped.
“Fair enough,” he said with a wicked waggle of his eyebrows, slowly sliding his hot palm away.
Pushing her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose, she backed up one pace, then whirled on her heel and stepped out again, leaving both men to follow in her wake. “Well, seeing as how you were both so insistent…” she threw over her shoulder, “…don’t dawdle!” She picked up her pace, arms swinging, angry with both of them, angry with herself for letting them get under her skin.
It was just like her first year teaching. She’d been fresh out of college, eager to take command of her first classroom, and both Logan boys had landed in hers. They hadn’t lingered in the back like most of the football players—no, they’d taken seats at the front. Their handsome faces had greeted her with smiles and compliments every morning. She’d begun every day gritting her teeth, because she couldn’t suppress the heat in her cheeks or the breathless hitch in her voice that their attentions brought. Back then, they’d been beautiful young men, horny and popular with the girls—not so much with the girls’ parents, because they could tempt an angel into parting with her wings. They’d turned their considerable charms on Molly, making the ninety minutes they’d shared a constant trial on her nerves.
No doubt, they’d done it on purpose, to test the new teacher. She had never been so glad to have a semester end.
Still, until they’d graduated, she’d had to endure seeing them in the hallways, knowing their interested stares followed her. She’d dressed as frumpily as she could bear, foresworn makeup, all to discourage them.
They were just too handsome, too cheeky. And she’d been all too aware there weren’t that many years between them. Just five. Something the boys teased her about.
The last few months they’d been in school, they’d begun to drop hints that they’d like to see her—after they weren’t jailbait anymore, but she’d had better sense. Even though they likely had more experience than she did in the sex department, she was starkly aware of how a relationship with two former students would look. Despite their sly and charming efforts at tempting her, she’d remained firm.
Unfortunately, it seemed time hadn’t changed them a bit. They may have left boyhood firmly behind, but they still liked to tease her to the point of exasperation.
And Lord, she wished she hadn’t noticed they weren’t boys anymore. Both were tall, and their rangy frames had filled out nicely. Any woman they passed couldn’t help but pause and watch, be she ten or a hundred. They knew their attraction and took full advantage of it. She’d heard the rumors of their sexual exploits. Apart, together—they only had to give a girl a sly wink to have her sidling their way. Then it didn’t take more than a sexy smile to have her panties around her ankles—an image which shocked Molly because it came so readily to mind.
No, she was not imagining that girl was her. How ridiculous would that be? Her, standing in broad daylight with lacy pink panties pooled around her feet.
And yet, what made it so real, so tempting, was that she knew if she wanted it, all she had to do was signal them with a crook of her finger. One lazy summer afternoon spent between the sheets with the Logans might just get the yearning out of her system.
The thought lodged tightly inside her head. But then another, of her getting naked with two perfect specimens of manhood, splashed cold water all over the dream.
She could never stand to be just another one of their conquests—even if they only intended to tease. They couldn’t be seriously thinking about doing anything more. They had their pick among the female population. She wasn’t the prettiest or the shapeliest. Sure, she was smart, but men like the Logan twins didn’t prize a high IQ. What they wanted was a woman with a single-word vocabulary.
So, why did the word yes feel as though it sat perched on the tip of her tongue, ready to take flight? Was it because she didn’t have a boyfriend or plans for a romantic summer? Until that moment, she’d been happy about that fact.
Molly’s house loomed in the distance, and she sped up again, trying not to think about what they might be looking at. Her butt might be a little soft, but there was muscle underneath. She lifted her arms and power-walked the rest of the way home.