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  Two Cowboys Next Door

  A Dark Bad Boy MFM Romance

  Jay S. Wilder

  Contents

  Copyright © 2016

  Blurb and Author’s Note - Two Cowboys Next Door

  1. Cheyenne

  2. Clay

  3. Nash

  4. Cheyenne

  5. Clay

  6. Cheyenne

  7. Clay

  8. Cheyenne

  9. Nash

  10. Cheyenne

  11. Clay

  12. Nash

  13. Cheyenne

  14. Nash

  15. Cheyenne

  16. Clay

  17. Cheyenne

  18. Nash

  19. Cheyenne

  20. Clay

  21. Cheyenne

  22. Nash

  23. Cheyenne

  24. Clay

  Captive Heart

  Author’s Note about Captive Heart

  Chapter 1 - Liam

  Chapter 2 - Natalia

  Chapter 3 - Liam

  Chapter 4 - Liam

  Chapter 5 - Liam

  Chapter 6 - Natalia

  Chapter 7 - Liam

  Chapter 8 - Natalia

  Chapter 9 - Natalia

  Chapter 10 - Natalia

  Chapter 11 - Liam

  Chapter 12 - Natalia

  Chapter 13 - Natalia

  Chapter 14 - Natalia

  Chapter 15 - Liam

  Chapter 16 - Natalia

  Chapter 17 - Natalia

  Chapter 18 - Liam

  Chapter 19 - Liam

  Chapter 20 - Natalia

  Chapter 21 - Natalia

  Chapter 22 - Liam

  Chapter 23 - Natalia

  Chapter 24 - Natalia

  Chapter 25 - Liam

  Chapter 26 - Natalia

  Chapter 27 - Liam

  Chapter 28 - Liam

  Chapter 29 - Liam

  Chapter 30 - Natalia

  Chapter 31 - Liam

  Keep in Touch with Jay!

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights are reserved..

  Copyright © 2016

  Two Cowboys Next Door - Jay S. Wilder

  Captive Heart - Jay S. Wilder (A free book included with this story)

  Blurb and Author’s Note - Two Cowboys Next Door

  A virgin college student next door. Two rugged rodeo cowboys. One wild and wicked attraction. She's about to learn what it means to be swept off her feet...from both bad boys.

  Nash

  I'm a rough and rugged rodeo rider with only one use for the women I share with my best buddy, Clay.

  Until I set my eyes on Cheyenne.

  She lives on the farm next to Clay's hometown cattle ranch, and when I find out she's a virgin, Clay and I have to rope her in for ourselves.

  She has this innocence that hooks me in. As much as I try to run from it, I can't fool myself.

  Cheyenne is meant to be ours.

  Cheyenne

  I haven't seen my old next door neighbor, Clay, in over five years. His rodeo show comes to our hometown, and all my teenaged fantasies about being with him bubble up to the surface. The thing is, he's got the worst reputation around town. Everyone including my family knows that he's a tomcat. Chasing tail is his favorite sport.

  I've been holding out on giving it up for years, and when I see him at the rodeo, it all makes sense.

  I have been waiting for Clay.

  His proposal of a no-strings-attached hookup with him and his best friend, Nash, is exactly what I need.

  Until I fall so hard, getting back on the horse drives me out of their protective arms and right to my very own worst nightmare.

  Clay

  Cheyenne was just a girl when I left for the rodeo. Look at her now. She has filled out her curves in all the right places, and has a body that can't be ignored. I see her in the stands during my rodeo show in our home town, and I'm instantly addicted. My best buddy, Nash, likes her too. Which is a good thing, because we like to share one woman. Except now, old skirt-chasing ways are coming back to haunt us--and puts Cheyenne smack in the middle of a dicey situation.

  Cheyenne likes the both us right up until she decides we may be too much.

  But she has a secret.

  And we're going to protect her at all costs.

  Because Cheyenne belongs to us.

  Author's Notes:

  - Two Cowboys Next Door is a MFM ménage romance that is all about the woman. There are no M/M scenes. This story is all about TWO hot, bad boy cowboys who fall for the same woman.

  - This ebook also includes the full-length standalone bonus novel Captive Heart, so Two Cowboys Next Door ends at around 45%.

  1

  Cheyenne

  Clay’s outstretched palms run across my shoulders and up my neck. Strong fingers cup my cheeks and angle my face towards his.

  “Cheyenne,” he whispers, hot air washing over my skin. “I’ve dreamed about this for years.”

  I shiver at his words, soft tremors shaking me from head to toe. One of his hands slides down my arm and around my back. Its grip tightens, and he pulls me close to him. The hard bulge between his legs presses into my thigh.

  I start to tell him I’ve dreamed about this moment too, that it’s all I’ve ever fantasized about, but his lips press warmly into mine, and I lose all ability to talk.

  He grazes his tongue across mine, stroking and teasing. A moan bubbles up from my chest. I lock my knees to stop myself from all out collapsing. Deft fingers find the bottom button on my shirt. One by one, Clay undoes my blouse. With two smooth movements, the top is off and falling to the floor.

  My aching nipples grow hard against the lacy fabric of my bra. A gush of wetness spills out of me and soaks my panties. Clay hooks his thumbs into my front belt loops, his other fingers brushing tantalizingly close to my needy area.

  He nips my bottom lip then takes his mouth to my neck. Harsh sucks make my head spin. Lower and lower his mouth goes, until it’s at the top of my bra. With one hand, he unhooks my bra and slips it from my shoulders to release my tender breasts.

  Clay kisses me ferociously and takes my breasts in his hands. He massages and pushes them together, thickly padded fingers grazing my erect nipples. With a quick spin, he turns me around. My thighs hit the bed. Clay presses forward to ease me down on the mattress.

  He keeps kissing me while he pulls my pants off. My soaking panties come next, wet enough that they cling to my legs on their way down. Clay breaks our kiss to lean back and strip off his own clothes. His hazel eyes burn with fire as he gazes down at me, a bit of thick brown hair falling over one eyebrow.

  Fully naked, Clay leans back over me. Each movement, no matter how slight, makes his muscles ripple. Our hands lace together. He lifts them above my head. A strong knee nudges my thighs open, and heavy hips weigh against mine.

  His mouth presses into mine again just as the tip of his bulge touches my quivering lips. He presses forward to part my slick opening. I moan against his teeth and his nails dig into my palm. My walls stretch, a sweetness I’ve never known filling me. He buries his whole length into me and begins to move back and forth. I close my eyes, welcoming the new feeling of being claimed.

  His ragged breath runs over my tongue, quick exhales and inhales coming in between our kisses. I shake and moan underneath his weight, the ecstasy more than I can handle. A burst or sensation explodes throughout my body, and I can’t help but cry out from the intense pleasure. Clay bites my bottom lip, holding it firmly between his teeth. The rapturous sensations go on and on. I’m flying away, held down only by the man resting above me…

  “I said, excuse me,” an annoyed voice snaps.

  I jerk and look up. “Hu
h?”

  An irritated brunette in a University of Wyoming shirt stands above me. Her nose wrinkles. “Can I get by?” she asks, pointing down at the bench that I’m sitting on.

  My cheeks grow red hot. “Yes,” I mumble, then move my legs to the side. She walks along the narrow row of seats. I drop my face and look at my jeans, embarrassed beyond belief to be so spaced out in a public place. And was I really just having a fantasy in the middle of a rodeo?

  The crowd erupts in hoots and hollers. My head snaps back up. Clay’s roped a calf, his perfectly tied lasso snug around the animal’s neck. The calf gives up its fight and stills. Pride blooms in me. Clay’s tan Stetson hides half his face, but I can see the slight smile on his lips as he turns towards the bleachers.

  The hat tilts back a bit more, and suddenly those hazel eyes are on mine. My heart stops. I forget how to breathe. Will Clay recognize me?

  Or even remember me?

  What seems like a whole minute but is probably just a few seconds pass. Clay’s eyes, still locked on mine, widen a tad. I come back to life and suck in a heavy breath. Clay’s gaze keeps moving across the crowd. He gives a wave to someone then jumps off his horse to rope in the calf.

  My eyes fall to my lap again. My pulse hammers through me. He recognized me. Clay Murphy, the man who’s haunted my wet dreams for the last seven years, actually recognized me.

  Seeing as I was fifteen the last time I saw him, it comes as a surprise. We may have been neighbors, but Clay didn’t exactly pay me loads of attention in the days we were growing up. Even once I started getting breasts and filling out, Clay never looked my way twice.

  Granted, I was too young for him then. With him five years older than me I never had a chance with the guy. But that was fun to imagine, to pretend I was one of the beautiful girls from town that he would take out to the movies or on horseback rides.

  He makes a sport of having a new girl every weekend. That’s what my dad always said about Clay. I never cared. I would have done nearly anything to be one of those girls, even if it only meant getting Clay’s hands on me for two days.

  His absence from his dad’s horse ranch meant I basically gave up the dream. Whatever small chance I had of getting with Clay while he lived next door was cut in half by him being off traveling with the rodeo.

  But now he’s back. And he recognized me.

  I gulp and get up from my seat. I need to stretch my legs. Or jump into an ice-cold lake.

  I’m so worked up my legs quake. I can feel liquid running down the inside of my thigh. I weave my way through the crowd and head for the grassy area outside of the stands. The fantasy I just indulged in sits heavily on my mind, refusing to go away.

  Really, the idea forming in my brain has been there for the last few weeks, ever since I heard the rodeo was coming to town. Clay is right there in front of me, and I see with my own eyes just how well he’s filled out and bulked up.

  I know what I’m going to do.

  With him.

  2

  Clay

  I wipe my brow and resettle my hat as I head away from the horse trailer. Claps hit my shoulder with every other step.

  “Good job tonight,” Dan, the rodeo producer, tells me. Without breaking stride, I nod at him and mumble a word of thanks. The night was a good one, but I’m not in the mood for socializing.

  At least not for the next ten minutes, anyway. Not until I do something about the rock-hard boner I’m using all my strength to keep in check.

  I could hardly believe seeing Cheyenne in the crowd. At first, I didn’t recognize her. I thought she was just some other hot sandy-haired girl. Gazing into her big brown eyes, though, I knew it was her.

  I also nearly fell off my horse.

  Nash leans against the open driver’s side door of his truck, looking bored. Maybe being a part of the rodeo cycle for twenty years does that to you, but for me, it’s all still fresh. Nash has been roping and wrestling since he was eight. Seven years into the game and I still find it… decent.

  It’s not quite exciting, but it’s preferable to the alternatives.

  “Hey,” he nods.

  “Hey.”

  I walk around the truck and swing myself up into the cab.

  “Hot showers, here we come,” Nash says, starting the truck engine.

  I smirk. Staying at my dad's will be nice. He’s visiting his sister in Maine the whole two weeks the rodeo is here. With the exception of Dad’s ranch hands, Nash and I will have the entire place to ourselves.

  A shower sounds good. It’ll give me a great opportunity to do something about this raging hard on. I shift in my seat in an attempt to get comfortable.

  Nash eyes me from behind the wheel. “You okay there?”

  “Yeah,” I grumble.

  “Adjust your junk if you need to,” he chuckles. “Don’t mind me.”

  I cross my arms and stare out across the dashboard. The truck’s lights slice through the night. “You’re gonna take a left up here,” I monotonously tell him.

  “So, what’s up?”

  “Huh?” I barely glance at him.

  “Something’s going on.”

  “Yeah,” I rasp, remembering Cheyenne’s big, almond-shaped brown eyes and flushed cheeks. I didn’t get the opportunity to eye her tits or ass, but I get the sense they don’t disappoint. “I saw this girl I used to know.”

  Nash whoops. “Spill. Who is she? Where can we find her?”

  I run my thumb over my bottom lip. “I don’t know. Haven’t seen her in years. She used to live next to me. As best as I know, she still does.”

  “She hot?”

  I exhale heavily. “She is now.”

  “Let’s go pay her a visit, feel her out.”

  The mention of ‘feeling her out’ makes my toes curl. I groan and drop my head back against the seat. Exactly what year did Cheyenne McGee become cover model worthy? Last I saw her she was still nothing but awkward limbs, maybe with some boob action in there, sure, but nothing to get excited about.

  Though I’ve visited home more than a few times over the last seven years, the stops have always been quick. I never thought about going around and checking in on old neighbors. Plus, there’s the whole thing with Cheyenne’s dad’s, and his poor health.

  Though maybe that means she’s got some stress and she needs to let loose. No one can give her an opportunity better than the one Nash and I can offer. A hot night with the both of us at the same time and no strings attached. It’s every girl’s dream.

  Or at least it should be.

  Nash’s phone starts ringing away. He pulls it from his pocket and looks at it, his dark brow furrowing.

  “Hey,” I chastise, “Eyes on the road.”

  He drops the phone down on the seat between us. “I don’t know who it is anyway. Some unknown number. Hey, are we really about to just head home and call it a night?”

  “What else did you have in mind?”

  “You could show me around the area,” he grins. “Introduce me to some local girls. Unless you’re thinking you’re going to save yourself all for your hot neighbor.”

  I scoff. “Not likely.”

  “Then tell me the way back to town.”

  “Cheyenne.”

  “Huh?”

  “Cheyenne, that’s her name.”

  Nash growls low in his chest. “That’s a good one.”

  “Yeah,” I throatily agree. “Sure is.”

  “Well, how about we go pay her a visit tomorrow?”

  “How about now?”

  “Let’s pay a visit to whatever local drinking hole this town has. That’s what we can do now.”

  “Fuck. All right.” I prop my foot up on the dash. Nash eyes my boot but says nothing.

  Between us, his cell phone lights up again. ‘Unknown Caller’ pops up on the screen. Nash hits the phone’s button to kill it.

  “What are you feeling?” he asks. “Blonde? Brunette?”

  “Blonde,” I instantly say, thinking of
Cheyenne. “Dark blonde.”

  “Don’t worry,” Nash says. “Between the two of us, we’ll get her. Remember that girl back in Omaha?”

  “Yeah.” We chased her for two weeks and got her in the sack a day before leaving town. She acted all pure and chaste and ended up being one of the best fucks we’d ever had.

  “No one can say no for long,” Nash says. “This woman is as good as ours.”

  3

  Nash

  The saloon sits across the street from a strip mall, the street dark and silent save for the activity flowing from the bar. I park the truck in the middle of the gravel parking lot and hop out. Clay and I head past the small crowd of smokers milling around near the front.

  A shitty Carrie Underwood song I want to forget exists, blasts from the speakers. The people in the crowd of twenty and thirty somethings either sway to the beat or press around the bar looking for their next drink.

  “I’m going to call my dad,” Clay says. “Let him know we got in.”

  He walks across the floor and disappears into a hallway. I give the crowd a closer survey, looking for any women who might be hanging out on their own. For the most part, each woman is either with a guy or a small group of girlfriends.

  I push towards the counter and get the bartender’s attention. “Two Buds,” I tell her. The second the words leave my mouth I catch sight of a small blonde woman down at the end of the bar. She looks barely old enough to drink and sits by herself. She stirs the black straw in her tumbler and stares down at the wooden bar.

  I touch the bartender’s wrist. “And another round for her,” I say, nodding at the blonde.

  I wait until the drinks are deposited. The blonde looks up in confusion, clocking the bar. Our eyes lock. I smile, picking up my beer, and then Clay’s. Pushing my way through the crowd, I make a beeline for her.

  “How’s it going?” I ask, sidling right up to her bar stool.

  Her cheeks instantly flush. She tucks some hair behind an ear and smiles uncertainly. “Good. You’re the one who sent me the drink?”