Cowgirl Up and Ride (Rough Riders #3)(52)

When he returned home that night to a message from AJ telling him she wouldn’t be over for a couple of days, he was relieved.


As Kade pulled up in front of his house after another fantastic date with Skylar—


albeit, another date in which he hadn’t told her who he really was, Kade, not Kane, the blue and white lights of the TV flickered on the big picture window. Kade parked in his spot at the Boars Nest. Four other cars he didn’t recognize lined the drainage ditch. Colt’s truck was there. Kane’s was not. Dag’s was there too.


He kicked off his boots at the door and looked around. Jasmine and Colt were buck nekkid and passed out on the couch. The place was dirtier than ever. More beer cans.


Liters of the hard stuff, vodka, rum, whiskey, tequila, more whiskey, J?germeister—all empty.


Pizza boxes were stacked on the floor. Bags of garbage overflowed in the kitchen.


Stinking clothes were piled on top of the washer. He sniffed and smelled pot smoke.


Fuck. Enough.


He tiptoed down the hallway to Colt’s bedroom—tiptoeing not out of a need to be quiet—but tiptoeing because of the bags of shit piled everywhere. Plus the hall light had burned out so he couldn’t see where the hell he was going.


The door to Colt’s room was cracked open and Kade poked his head in.


Holy f*cking Christ.


Kade blinked because he couldn’t believe his eyes. If he’d imbibed tonight he’d blame it on booze, but he hadn’t had a single glass of wine or beer with dinner.


So what he was witnessing wasn’t a weird-assed dream. But his cousin, Dag, on his hands and knees, bare-assed, with another guy, spreading his cheeks wide and riding Dag’s ass like Dag was a pony.


Right then he knew the skinny guy he’d seen getting hammered the other night was Dag. And he knew it hadn’t been a damn dream.


A Goth kid—tattooed, hair dyed jet-black, couldn’t have been more than nineteen and resembled a girl more than a boy, but the big cock shuttling in and out of Dag’s butt definitely belonged to a guy.


And if that image wasn’t bad enough, another guy was on his knees in front of Dag, sliding his cock in and out of Dag’s mouth, holding Dag by the ears as he f*cked Dag’s face.


Not that Kade wanted to look, but sweet Jesus, that wasn’t all that was going on. The crew-cut dude was in on it too. He’d somehow contorted himself to noisily suck Dag’s dick while the other two guys were doing their thing.


To his cousin.


His straight cousin.


Shit. Maybe Dag was drugged. He was blindfolded. Maybe he had no f*cking clue what he was doing.


Kade made up his mind to break up the foursome, when the guy with his cock in Dag’s mouth whined, “I wish I could come on your face. You’ve got such a pretty face.”


Dag pulled back and slurred, “You say that every f*ckin’ time, Max, and you know I’ll never blow you again without wearin’ a f*ckin’ condom.”


“I’m blowing you without a condom,” crew-cut guy said, then returned to Dag’s cock, twisting his hand firmly from root to tip as he suckled the knob.


“Fuck him harder, Leroy. Dag’s a bad boy who likes to pretend he isn’t one of us.


We all know he likes it hard. And rough.” Max rammed his meat back into Dag’s mouth with a childish pout. Dag groaned his approval when Leroy started hammering his hips harder into Dag’s ass.