The Outlaws Read online

  The Pleasure Club:

  The Outlaws

  By

  Anna Leigh Keaton

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Outlaws

  Copyright© 2010 Anna Leigh Keaton

  ISBN: 978-1-60088-572-3

  Cover Artist: Sable Grey

  Editor: Melanie Noto

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cobblestone Press, LLC

  www.cobblestone-press.com

  Welcome to The Pleasure Club

  Dear Ms. Fitzgerald,

  We’re pleased to welcome you to The Pleasure Club.

  As you have already signed and returned the contract and filled out all the necessary forms to ensure you receive your every wish, we will be in touch with you shortly with the details of your first Pleasure Night. Your Wish List and Pleasure Forms have been turned over to our staff of highly trained Pleasure Guardians, and they are hard at work finding your perfect match.

  We will endeavor to meet your personal fantasy.

  When you are contacted again, you will be given a location where your Pleasure Night will begin, and you will also be given a safe word to use should you at any time become uncomfortable. There is no shame in changing your mind. We’re here for your pleasure, and should your safe word be used, your match for the evening will cease all activity, and the game will be put on hold until a mutual agreement between you and your Pleasure Master(s) can be reached.

  Once again, welcome to The Pleasure Club.

  Please feel free to contact the office at any time should you have any questions.

  Yours truly,

  The Pleasure Club Management

  * * * * *

  Ms. Fitzgerald,

  Your Pleasure Night will begin Friday the 8th at 8:00 PM on the grounds of Montebello Castle Winery, located at 1800 Mangrove Lane.

  Park your car in the drive and follow the path on the east side of the mansion, through the garden, and into the woods beyond.

  Your safe word is Cowgirl Up.

  Sincerely,

  The Pleasure Guardians

  * * * * *

  Patty pulled her car up in front of the winery and frowned. It looked exactly like a castle, definitely not a setting out of the Old West. Had they messed up her fantasy? She would not be happy if they had. It wasn’t as if she had all the money in the world to spend on a fantasy sex club like The Pleasure Club.

  She pushed open her door and stepped out into the late evening warmth. She looked down at her clothes and supposed the simple ivory summer dress would work for a medieval maiden’s underclothes, if they had stuck her fantasy in the wrong time period. Holding her purse in one hand and her keys in the other, she scowled.

  “Oh, hell,” she muttered. She shouldn’t be here at all. What had she been thinking to do this?

  She’d been thinking she seriously needed to get laid, and when she heard about The Pleasure Club from a friend, she’d been intrigued enough to look up their Web site.

  She popped the trunk on her little sedan, dumped her purse inside, then shut the lid. She hit the lock button on the key fob before dropping the keys into the one deep pocket on her dress.

  The letter had come last week, and since then she’d memorized every word, every direction. There wasn’t much to remember, really, so she did as the letter stated and headed along the path to the east side of the castle-like building. The cobbled path led through a sweet-smelling rose garden and into the woods.

  Now this is a little better, she thought with a smile as the cobblestones ended and her sandals fell silent on the pine needle strewn path. The evening seemed to close in quickly as she ventured deeper into the thick forest. She could almost believe she’d just stepped out of Florida and into the Old West. Except maybe for the loud chirping of the cicadas. She wasn’t sure if they had cicadas in Arizona, since she’d never actually been there—had never been anywhere, it seemed.

  God, she hoped those Pleasure Guardian people got it right. She’d had this particular fantasy for ages, and she wanted it so badly she could practically taste it.

  Thank God none of the parents of her students knew what kind of twisted freak she was—at least in her own mind. If any of them knew she often lay awake at night, fantasizing about being ravished by men wearing gun belts while she used her vibrator and dildo—Yes, she used two at once, and it was no one’s business!—to bring her to screaming orgasms, they’d have her thrown out of the St. Mary’s.

  Just thinking about it made her pussy clench. Men. Plural. Big, burly cowboys. Heat flooded her body and made her skin tingle. “Where are you?” she whispered as she walked deeper into the shadowy woods. “I’m ready for you, bad, bad boys. Soooo ready.”

  The smooth bottom of her flat sandal slid on a stone, and she yelped in surprise and steadied herself. “Damn it.” It was getting really dark.

  She stopped at a T in the path. Looking left and right, she had no idea which way to go because the paths wound off around corners within a few yards. The letter hadn’t said anything about this.

  Then she heard it. A masculine voice.

  Another tingle rippled down her spine, and she grinned.

  A second voice, then boisterous male laughter.

  She turned right and practically skipped down the path. Bad boys, here I come!

  Just around the bend, she saw them. Two guys sitting on either side of a small campfire, complete with cowboy hats, tight jeans, and gun belts. A delicious shiver skittered over her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Mmm. Just what the teacher ordered.

  Smoothing her hands over her bodice, and then tugging the elastic neckline down so it exposed plenty of shoulder, she slowly stepped toward them. “Excuse me, sirs, but I seem to be lost.”

  They both turned their heads and looked in her direction. She wondered if she was close enough to the fire for them to see her, so she kept moving forward.

  She’d thought she’d be scared, or at least nervous, when the moment finally arrived, but she wasn’t. Excitement made her tingly and tense with arousal.

  “Well, well, well,” the cowboy on the right said as they both stood up from their little camp stools—not exactly period pieces, but oh well. “Look what we got here, Clancy.

  “Miz Patricia. I’ll be.”

  She almost burst out laughing at the silly drawl they both employed. They sounded straight off the set of The Beverly Hillbillies. She kept her laughter inside, though. She couldn’t see their faces yet, but they were both tall and built like honest to God cowboys. With wide shoulders, slim hips, thick thighs, and cowboy boots. Be still my heart!

  “What’re ya doin’ all the way out here in the middle o’ nowhere, Miz Patricia? Shouldn’t ya be back at the saloon takin’ care of all them girls?”

  She wrinkled her brow and stopped walking when she was within ten feet or so of them. So she wasn’t the innocent schoolteacher? At the saloon? Girls? “Pardon me?”

  The one on the left stepped toward her. “You watch them girls like hawks. We know, cuz we done tried to steal one once, and you came after us with that big ’ol shotgun.”

  Maybe school girls, but at a saloon?

  The other cowboy came forward. “You’re the prettiest one, though, Miz Patricia. Pity you don’t put that body of yours up for sale no more. I’d pay to use it for an hour.”

  Was she a madam? Oh, how very sinful!

 
; “We ain’t gotta pay at all, Clancy. She’s out here all alone. Lost.”

  Patty raised her hands and took a couple of steps backwards. “Wait a second, boys. I… I just need directions back to town. My horse—”

  The one not named Clancy lunged forward and grabbed her arms.

  She twisted and tried to pull away, but he was a good head taller than she was and now, seeing him up close, she realized he was made of solid muscle. Yummm. “I’ll let you have any one of my girls. For a whole night. Free of charge. Just let me go.”

  Clancy came up beside the one holding her and grinned. She supposed it was a wicked grin, but he was so damn handsome it was one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen. “We got your sweet li’l body for the whole night.”

  “Hell, Clancy, we got her for as long as it takes.” The cowboy laughed and tugged her against his hard body.

  “As long as what takes?” she asked, trying to remember she was supposed to be frightened but finding it difficult because the man smelled of citrus cologne, not cow poo and sweat, or whatever real cowboys should smell like. His body was rock solid. When she laid her hands against his pecs to try to push herself away, her fingers met resilient muscle, and her mouth watered.

  “As long as it takes to fuck you until we can’t fuck no more,” Clancy said.

  She trembled. Maybe they’d think it was because she was frightened. More like, her legs wouldn’t hold her up because his words made her whole body turn to jelly. Fuck me. Yes.

  “Git yer bedroll, Jake,” Clancy said, pulling her away from Jake. “Don’t want sweet Miz Patricia’s backside all bruised on the rocks, now do we?” He laughed and wrapped one arm around her while he slid his other hand down to cup her ass.

  She whimpered and buried her face against his chest. Oh, oh, oh. It had been so very long since a guy had grabbed her ass like that. And Clancy smelled just as good as Jake. A little more woodsy than citrus, though. “Stop it!” she cried, remembering her role, and shoved against him.

  The big guy didn’t budge.

  So she did what she had to, turning her head slightly and biting down on his lovely pectoral.

  “Son of a—” He shoved her away.

  She turned to run but only took two steps before he caught her around the waist and lifted her clean off the ground. “Let me go! You’ll go to jail for this! The sheriff is one of my best customers. When he finds out you—oomph!”

  Clancy flipped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and followed that by a hard smack to her ass. Her thin dress and thong did nothing to stop the sting.

  “Git the rope, Jake. She’s a fighter. This’ll be more fun than I thought.”

  Again, she bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Their dialogue was straight from a B-western movie.

  She struggled just a little after he stopped walking, and one of her sandals flew off. Damn it, those were expensive. She hoped it hadn’t landed in the fire. The warmth from the campfire hit her bare legs, and its crackling grew louder. She was calm until a second set of hands touched her body, and then wound rope around her ankles.

  “Hey!” she cried. She kicked out, but it didn’t take much for them to pin her legs, and her other sandal fell off. She didn’t wiggle too much, afraid she’d tumble off Clancy’s shoulder. That wouldn’t be a good way to start the night.

  Jake pulled her off Clancy’s shoulder and dumped her down on a thick pile of blankets. She rolled onto her side, intent on trying another escape, but the rope around her ankles kept her from so much as crawling.

  They had used soft rope. Nylon cord, she thought. Nothing that would chafe and leave wounds.

  “You know,” she said as Jake shoved her onto her back and grabbed her wrists. She fought. Tugged. Tried to get out of his grasp, but he held her firm. He didn’t hurt her at all. “I have a lot of money. If you let me go, I’ll pay you. You won’t have to work another day.”

  Clancy knelt next to her and wound the cord around her wrists while Jake held her still. They both laughed.

  “Rustlin’ ain’t a real job, Miz Patricia. You know that. It’s more fun than work.”

  “Rustlers? You’re rustlers? The sheriff—”

  “We don’t like the sheriff none,” Jake said. “So if you insist on talkin’ ’bout him, we’re gonna have to gag you. And well, we like it when our women scream, so that’d be a real shame, wouldn’t it?”

  Her heart thudded hard with excitement. “The sheriff is going to string you up at the hanging tree for this.”

  “Dang it.” Clancy withdrew a red bandana from his back pocket. “Why don’t you women ever listen to common sense?” He rolled the cloth and stuck it between her lips, wrapped the ends around her head, and tied it off. It was loose enough for her to easily spit out, but she let it stay. In fact, she growled and tried again to escape by bowing her body off the ground.

  Jake placed one of his big hands on her chest and pressed her into the blankets. “If ya just hold still, this’ll be a lot easier on ya.”

  “No!” she screamed, trying to wiggle free. When she finally managed to get onto her side, a sharp slap to her ass stopped her. Oh, yes, that felt good. Her pussy wept, and she wanted to moan and beg for more. Instead, she flopped over onto her back and glared up at Jake. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, as was the hair she could see peeking from under his hat. His chin was square, and he had high cheekbones. He was ruggedly stunning. Clancy was too, in a lighter way. He had green eyes, light brown hair, and a slight shadow of whiskers on his cheeks and cleft chin.

  “Always knew you’d be a spitfire, Miz Patricia. Always knew it,” Clancy said, reaching down and lifting the hem of her dress. “Wait ’til we tell the boys we had you. They’re gonna be so jealous.”

  “I want her mouth first,” Jake said. “Look at them lips. So fat and juicy.”

  “You take ’em,” Clancy said. “Because I’m gettin’ this.” He pressed his hand against her pussy, and her eyelids slid closed.

  She raised her hips toward his touch and growled low in her throat, trying to stay in character, but she feared it was too late for that. This was her fantasy. Two men. Two big, burly cowboys. Ravish me!

  The hand between her legs moved. “Look at this, Jake.” Clancy flipped her skirt up, covering her face with it. “What the hell kind of women’s underthing is this?” He tugged at her thong.

  “I’ll be, Clancy. Ain’t that somethin’? It sure is pretty compared to some o’ them big huge things other women wear. Why, Janie was wearin’ a pair of pants. Can you imagine that? Pants. On a woman!”

  Patty bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Until cold metal pressed against her hip. She sucked in a quick breath, but it was over quickly—and her thong was gone. Cut off of her. She was glad it wasn’t an expensive pair.

  “I git those,” Jake said.

  She used her bound hands to push the skirt off her face and looked up in time to see Jake holding up her panties. He gave a little whistle, then tucked them into the pocket of his jeans.

  Big, slightly callused hands spread her upper thighs. Her ankles were still tied, so with her knees bent, the soles of her feet touched each other. She realized how loose the rope was. Thank goodness for Yoga, though, or she might be in pain with him pressing down on her knees that way.

  She tried to push her knees back together, to wiggle out of Clancy’s grip, but there was no hope. And she so didn’t want to delay the inevitable one more second. The sooner they got to it, the sooner she could have an orgasm, or two, or, please, please, three.

  “Mmm-mmm. Look at that, Jake.”

  “It’s so pretty,” Jake said.

  “Just like a flower.” Clancy released her left leg and reached toward her pussy. He stroked one finger over her, barely skimming her flesh.

  She cried out and bucked, the electrical charge making her hum inside. Scrunching her eyes shut, she waited and held her breath, longing for another touch.

  “She makes some nice noises, too,” Jake
muttered.

  “Just listen to what she does when I do this.”

  She screamed and arched off the ground. It was his mouth. His hot, smooth tongue. And his whiskers. Oh, Lord help her. His whiskers tickled and tantalized her flesh. He suckled her clit, making her cry with the need to come, and just when she thought she would, he moved his mouth and buried his tongue inside of her.

  Tears ran down into her hair. She bucked against his mouth until he pinned her hips with his big, beefy hands.

  “You’re right, Clancy. Them are some real nice sounds she’s makin’.” Jake yanked the bandana from her mouth.

  What came out of her was a plea. Not for them to let her go, but, “Please let me come!”

  “I knew it!” Jake said with a laugh. “I knew she was a hot little whore. She plays it all cool, takin’ care o’ them girls, but she likes a good fuck like all of ’em.”

  “Yes! I like it. I like it!”

  Clancy entered her with two fingers at the same time Jake yanked down the top of her dress. Cool air brushed her unbound breasts an instant before he settled one hand over one of them, and his mouth clamped down on the other.

  “Yes!” she cried. “Oh, yes.” She raised her bound hands from her middle, grabbed Jake’s head, and held him against her breast.

  When Jake sucked her nipple, and Clancy suckled her clit while pressing his fingers deep within her, she came apart with a wail, thrashing her head from side-to-side chanting, “More, more, more.”

  And then there was more. A big, solid cock impaling her cunt as Clancy loomed over her balanced on his hands. He grunted as he shoved into her. Jake moved away, but only for a moment. Then his long, thick cock was literally in her face. He tapped its soft tip against her lips.

  She couldn’t see Jake’s face, so she stared into Clancy’s gorgeous eyes as she took Jake into her mouth.

  Clancy’s speed increased. She grabbed the front of his shirt in her fists, using it as leverage to raise her knees on either side of his body, taking him deeper with each solid thrust. The bindings on her ankles had disappeared, fallen away.