UPDATE: The winners of are EVERYONE who posted a comment!!
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Yes, I’m posting late, but yesterday flew by. I spent time with my sister, Elle James, and my mother. We made the rounds of mom’s doctors appointments and x-rays then visited two stops on a local artists’ studio tour. Mom and I came away from that determined to make more time for meetings at the local art guild! Enjoy today’s contest and the excerpt from an exceptionally dirty story, Two Wild for Teacher!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Lone Star Lovers stories! I’ll choose three winners! Just comment below. Tell me whether you’d love more ménage stories.

Two Wild for Teacher

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

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.