Texas Trio Ch. 11-15a

NOTE: Texas Trio was the first erotic novel I wrote. I'm posting here a few chapters at a time after making some small revisions. There's an actual story to back up all the naughty bits, so it's more fun if you start at the beginning! Thanks for reading! – –Love- Stefanie

–:–:–:–:–:–:–:–:– CHAPTER 11 –:–:–:–:–:–:–:–:–

Saturday night it rained, a downpour that seemed to last forever, and Cat went straight to sleep, never dreaming Colt would brave the storm to visit. She was woken by a gust of wind from the balcony and comparative silence falling behind the click of the closing door. She sprang from beneath the covers and ran right into Colt, who was standing near the foot of her bed trying to get his bearings in the velvet darkness of her room.

"For goodness' sake, you're dripping," she laughed softly, trying to smooth the wet hair away from his face. "Let me get a towel."

Colt stopped her with a hand on her arm, turning his head to kiss from her cupped palm onto her bare wrist and up to the inside curve of her elbow. She shivered as he drew her in, willingly wrapping her arms around his neck and tipping her face to meet his kiss.

His big hands hard on the sides of her waist, Colt's storm-drenched clothing soaked her thin gown as his lips stripped reason from her. She might as well have been nude: she could feel every bump and button on the front of his shirt and trousers, the roughness of his work-wear on her delicate skin gratingly delicious. Colt tried to be patient, but his kisses and Jeremiah's had taught her too well; her tongue dipped between his lips before his own lust had a chance to whittle away his restraint. He groaned and bent further, giving her his mouth as his hands crept down to cup the sweet roundness of her bottom.

Instead of cooling the lovers, the rain streaming from Colt's wet hair made their kisses slick and even hotter.

Catherine pressed herself against him, subconsciously shifting to and fro, using her body to caress the growing bulge of his erection. She might not have noticed what she was doing, but Colt certainly knew, and he could think of nothing but tearing away the layers between them. As before, he didn't have to wait. Cat's hands slid from the nape of his neck onto his chest, where they fumbled with his buttons.

Colt kept his mouth on hers but released her bottom to assist. Not bothering with fasteners, he ripped the plackets apart, shedding the wet shirt and vest on the carpet behind him, stepping on the heels of his own boots as Cat's hands roamed his warm, wide back. With his shirt gone and her gown soaked, Catherine delighted in the feel of Colt's sculpted torso against her breasts. She arched to drag her nipples across his skin, earning a shared gasp in response, and a simultaneous thrum of laughter woven through their kiss.

Colt lifted his head to mutter a desperate imprecation, freeing Cat's mouth to sample the feast before her. He growled roughly when she found his nipple, mimicking what Jem had done to her, licking and sucking, rubbing her palm in tiny circles over his other hard nub. Her inexperienced explorations left Colt weak. He reclaimed her mouth in an ineffective attempt to calm himself, but his hands rebelled, roaming southward from Cat's curvaceous hips, strumming her gown into gathers at the backs of her thighs.

Cat tore her mouth away to moan when she felt the first touch of Colt's warm fingers against her bare skin. His fingers were damp and she flushed. Soon he'd discover that her gown was no longer the only source of liquid wetting the tingling surface of her body. Like Colt, she was soaked.

His lips found the pulse at her throat, and her arms tightened around his neck.

Unlike Colt, Catherine didn't feel like she'd lost control, though, because way back at the beginning of their embrace, she'd decided to give in to the strength of her emotions. If she left all other considerations aside, Catherine already knew she wanted to be with Colt. She'd simply chosen to stop dithering about and enjoy being with the man she loved.

There were no decisions left to make, and all of Catherine's conscious mind was swallowed up by the sensation of Colt's long fingers sweeping duplicate trails of heat along the curves of her thighs. Wanting more than anything for him to continue, she raised her arms, asking wordlessly for him to remove her gown.

A momentary spark of reason sizzled in the forefront of his brain, but Colt stomped heedlessly over it, and the fine silk fabric joined the puddle of his clothing on the floor.

Catherine's nudity stripped away what remained of Colt's reservations, and he fell to his knees at her feet, lifting one breast to the warm embrace of his mouth. Her hands stroked his wet hair, pulling him closer. Pinned between his seeking mouth and the mattress on her high canopy bed, she was grateful for both when his hand slid forward from her hip, his fingertips dipping into the dampness at the apex of her thighs.

The contrast between the cool wet fingers and the heat Colt drew from her body made her dizzy. Cat moved her hands to Colt's broad shoulders for support as he reluctantly released her breast, settling back onto his heels to tease her need from flicker into flame.

In the darkness at Cat's feet, Colt felt as though his entire body were vibrating, stormed by an onslaught of subtle sensations which he usually ignored. When Cat shifted slightly, the fabrics of the bedclothes she leaned against slipped over each other with a tiny whispering caress. She supported her weight on her palms, but with every tiny movement, her fingertips dug into the pads of muscle behind his neck. Cat's scent surrounded him, spicy and intoxicating in the night, and closer than the sounds of the storm outside, every airy, rushing breath she drew was a clue to bend his next stroke, his next tug, his next touch so as to better fulfill her desires.

He pressed the swollen folds of her pussy apart and rubbed the ridge of delicate tissue he'd exposed. Wandering, he slicked the moisture of her passion up over the velvety softness. He circled time after time, his fingers dancing to and fro over the aching crest of her clit, before his hand slipped slowly back between her thighs, sending one finger thrusting deeply in the clingy wetness of her channel.

Cat nearly exploded at his first penetration, digging her fingers into Colt's shoulders and lifting one foot to his hard thigh, opening herself for more.

She whimpered when he rose to his knees again, sucking a tender nipple into the warmth of his mouth, but all sound left her when Colt's kisses trailed downward across her belly, headed for the needy, steaming heart of her existence. Her eyes opened wide in the darkness and her mouth formed the small "o" that Jem found so entrancing.

Oh, my goodness, he's not. . . he can't be. . . .

Cat foundered for only an instant before the world exploded into the blinding white light of Colt's tongue touching her most intimate spot, delving between her lips, licking Cat into a frenzy.

His thumbs spread her wide for the ministrations of his mouth, one from above, fingers splayed over her belly, and one from below, where his finger gently caressed from the inside what his lips loved from without. Cat would have crumpled without his support, her mind a useless pile of mush devoted only to absorbing the delicious ecstasy of his mouth on her pussy, his finger thrusting inside. The orgasm exploded from the base of her spine, engulfing her small form almost without warning, sweeping all semblance of sanity aside in a thunderstorm of sensation that seemed to last forever.

Reminding himself of her inexperience, Colt let his touch slow and lighten as Catherine gradually descended from her peak. When her legs collapsed, he guided her to a sitting position atop one of his thighs, reclaiming her lips. He wouldn't have been surprised had the innocent angel fallen asleep right there in his lap.

When she turned her mouth to his, he kissed her sweetly and was surprised by the fervent desire he sensed in her embrace. Instead of sleepiness, he found an angel whose sensuality had been awoken, and who was restlessly awaiting more of whatever he chose to teach.

Cat turned her upper body to rub herself against him, her nipples plucking at his own.

"Colt, please. . . ." she murmured, her words trailing off. She needed more of him, but she didn't know how to ask.

Colt required no more encouragement than that. He surged upward, lifting Cat to deposit her lightly on the summer coverlet. Peeling his pants off, he kissed a line up the inside of her thigh, joining her on the feather mattress.

For a moment, Cat tensed, anticipating the touch of his tongue and knowing the sensual torture of his mouth between her legs was sure to make her scream this time.

But Colt must have sensed something of what she felt, because his lips settled on the upper curve of her breast. She smiled into the darkness and wrapped herself around him, legs and arms straining to pull him into the heat of her body.

Colt resisted, moving only his hips.

She gasped as the head of his cock nudged it's way between her slick folds. He felt huge, but she didn't quail. She was past fear, past thought, into a place where pure yearning took control. Her body arched toward the pleasure of his touch.

Colt mumbled loving words, trying to soothe her, but she wanted more than his calm voice.

"Colt, please . . . please. . . ." Cat was nearly climbing him in desperation.

He relented before her urgent pleas could dissolve his measured pace, finally guiding the bulging head of his cock to press against her opening. Cat froze, quivering as Colt began to push inside. As he relaxed downward, she felt her flesh stretching to accommodate his girth. When she whimpered, Colt retreated, making her whimper again. Her arms clenched around his neck.

His lips swept deliciously across hers. She tipped her chin up and opened to the tip of his tongue, and his swollen, hot shaft slid into the mouth of her pussy.

Working even another inch of his cock into Cat's hot, writhing little body seemed to take hours, but Colt was patient, pressing forward and withdrawing more deeply each time, until he knew his next thrust would be the one that broke through her maidenhead and brought him all the way inside his angel.

He kissed her tenderly and, though he couldn't see her in the dark, he opened his eyes to tell her what she meant to him.

Cat was sure her heart would burst when she heard him say, "I love you, Cat" as he surged forward. She expected the pain, but not the searing explosion of the orgasm which followed on its heels, obliterating the one fast, shearing sensation she experienced.

Colt's hard cock stretched her channel, the pressure intensifying and extending her contractions.

She clung to the broad shoulders above her, burying her face in the damp warmth of his neck, feeling the softness of his hair brush against her temple. He was her rock: a hot, huge, reassuring presence in the sea of unfamiliar sensations rocketing through her body.

When her laboring gasps quieted, Colt slowly resumed rocking his hips, pulling and pushing with exquisite deliberateness as her pussy wept and softened. Soon, he was sliding smoothly in and out. Colt rose, supporting the arch of his body on elbows and toes as he began to move.

Cat's urgent grip on his shoulders eased, and her head fell back against the pillow as the thick invader caressed her inner walls, sending tingling waves of sensation shooting up her spine. He was so hard and hot, and he filled her so tightly that she could barely breathe. The air rushing into her lungs burned like the fire of his body hovering over her. His heat seared her wherever they touched: her inner thighs, her palms, her breasts. Every thrust brought his belly down against her, dragging the delicate folds of her labia back and forth, the friction of skin on skin, plush tissue between crushing bones, winding her body higher and higher.

Cat's fingers digging into his ribcage, she whimpered his name, "Colt. . . ."

He whispered his love in response to her plea, sustaining her when she thought she might go mad.

She was afraid to move her hips in case changing her position brought the pain back, but she was already teetering on the fine edge of another climax, and if she didn't move, she thought she might scream.

Caught between the twin peaks of lust and anxiety, her muscles tensed, her body becoming ever more rigid. The grip of her legs around Colt's waist got tighter and tighter. It might have been painful, if his entire world hadn't been centered on the throbbing hold of Cat's wet, hot pussy around his swollen, aching cock.

He groaned softly, straining to hold himself back, but Cat began to moan and undulate, her hips moving with untutored enthusiasm. Unable to withstand the temptations of her body any longer, Colt began to fuck her in earnest. With only the third pistoning plunge of the heavy shaft inside her, Cat climaxed, writhing and gasping, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

The little sounds she made while her contractions held her in thrall were too much for him. Colt thrust deeply inside her and came, holding her hips up to his and groaning into the curve of her neck as her spasms embraced him.

Catherine was still coming, but she felt him thicken and still, and the hot pulsations of wetness flooding her insides. It was amazing.

Released from the prison of their lust, Cat and Colt clung to each other, patting and stroking, kissing whatever was within reach, until she began to drift off.

Colt, wanting to stay in her bed, in her arms, more than he'd ever wanted anything before he met Cat Connor, nonetheless extricated himself from her embrace, kissing her softly in the velvety darkness, murmuring words of love.

Still smiling, Catherine fell asleep before he even found his pants.

–:–:–:–:–:–:–:–:– CHAPTER 12 –:–:–:–:–:–:–:–:–

Jem woke with a headache, as he had every morning for a week, and found Colt sleeping late, also becoming routine. On the ranch, his partner was always up early, kicking Jem's door in at sunrise unless he'd been at some girl the night before. Maybe they were both coming down with a fever of some sort, Jem mused tiredly. He tripped over Colt's pants in the dressing room and froze in dull-witted surprise when he picked them up to toss them aside. Holding the heavy twill trousers at arm's length, Jem gave them a shake to convince himself that his hazy senses were telling the truth. They were soaked. He glanced around and found Colt's cowboy boots peeking out from under a wardrobe, the russet leather blotched in dark islands of cocoa brown.

Jem dropped the pants and stared at Colt through the open door. Since they'd been here, his partner had worn nothing but cheap black suits and shoes in his role as Jeremiah's manservant. Colt's work pants and cowboy boots should all be back at the ranch, and Jem could see no reason for them to be lying in a wet heap in Harrison Matthews' elaborate Galveston manor.

Since, in addition to sleeping more than usual and having a headache every morning, Jem's brain was only reluctantly roused this week, a few minutes passed before he thought to check outside. The sky was clear, but puddles dappled the dark gravel of the driveway, and the sun glinted off a million drops of moisture clinging to the grass and trees.

Jem swore silently and turned toward the dressing room. Halfway there another belated epiphany sent him steaming to his bedside table. Lifting the crystal glass left over from his usual bedtime brandy, he sniffed. The heady smell made him grimace but woke him slightly, too. He sniffed again. Brandy.

Intent, he retraced his steps to the window, raising the glass to eye level and tilting it to the light. Dark sediment danced in a thin layer across the bottom.

"Son of a bitch," he swore, barely restraining his urge to hurl the glass across the chamber. He headed for Colt instead.

"Son of a bitch!"

Colt was woken from a deep, dreamless slumber by the thud of his own head hitting the floor, punctuating the cusses his best friend hurled down from above.

"You shit-eating son of a bitch! You witch's turd! You drag me into this mess to rescue the woman, then you shit all over me!"

Colt, dog-tired, was unalarmed by Jem's rant, delivered sotto voce as it was. If Jem had the wits to keep his voice down, Colt wasn't in immediate danger of being losing his life. He stayed flat on the carpet, waiting for Jem to get it out.

After Jem ran down, Colt waited a full thirty seconds before rolling to his feet. "I'm probably all those things, Jem, but what, in particular, got you so riled up this morning?"

"You've been drugging me to duck out every night and court my woman!"

Colt spun to face his friend, not sure which part of that statement pissed him off more. He set aside Jem calling Cat his woman to address the initial absurdity.

"Are you outa your ever-lovin' mind? Drug you? How the– no, why the hell would I do that? Far as I can tell you sleep like the dead already! What in God's name you think I gotta drug you for?"

Jem inhaled deeply, prepared to reply, but the answer occurred to them both at the same time.

"Who's been drugging you?" Colt asked, all the heat gone from his voice.

After Jem showed Colt the evidence, he related the details of his headaches, half-hoping Colt would tell him he was being ridiculous, but Colt concurred.

"I shoulda known something was wrong, Jem. You never sleep like that 'less you're sick or drunk."

Jem lifted one shoulder. "If I'd been quicker to notice the difference myself, you could have pointed it out to me sooner."

"Yeah, well, we both got other things on our minds right now."

They exchanged a quick glance, but set the "other things" aside while they decided how to handle the situation surrounding Jeremiah's bedtime-brandies. That conversation didn't last as long as either one of them would have liked.

When they'd come up with a plan for later in the day, Colt was the one who turned the topic back to the more salient issue, venturing, "And Jem. . . ."

Jem had an idea what was coming before Colt spit it out, but detouring into detective work had calmed him. He waited while Colt worked through his hesitation.

"You're right, I been sneakin' out at night to see Cat–" Obviously reluctant to continue, he changed directions. "I can't help it, Jem. I love the woman. I can't stay away from her."

Not meeting his eyes, Jem made a face. "Yeah, well, I'm in love with her, too."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit."

"Well, what are we gonna do about it, Jeremiah?"

"There's only one thing we can do." Jem finally looked Colt in the eye. "We'll have to talk her into it."

–:–:–:–:–:–:–:–:– CHAPTER 13 –:–:–:–:–:–:–:–:–

Nanny found Cat nude and tangled in a messy nest of bedclothes, her nightgown in a damp heap on the floor next to her bed, and came to the inevitable conclusion . . . Cat had a fever.

Wrapped in a dressing gown while the upstairs maids hurriedly remade her bed, Cat did her best to appear lethargic while frantically scanning her sheets for signs of blood. Thankfully she saw none.

And while Nanny went down to fetch her a special sick-bed breakfast, Cat sprinted for the washbasin to clean her thighs before Nanny put her in the tub. She was lying listlessly in bed when Nanny returned, and after a cooling bath, that's where she stayed all day, at Nanny's insistence. While maids tiptoed in with endless cool cloths, foul-tasting teas, and chicken broth with lemon– which fortunately Catherine enjoyed– she lolled about pretending to read while recalling every detail of her night with Colt.