Sir Loin of Beef

  Sir Loin Of Beef

  Grade-A Beefcakes Series - Book 1

  Vanessa Vale

  Sir Loin Of Beef

  Copyright © 2018 by Vanessa Vale

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from both authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Cover design: Bridger Media

  Cover graphic: Period Images

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Note From Vanessa

  Join the Wagon Train!

  Get A Free Book!

  Also By Vanessa Vale

  About Vanessa Vale

  Prologue

  DUKE

  * * *

  My father always told me the minute I saw the woman for me, I’d know. Just like that. From one second to the next, I’d be hers. From single to irrevocably taken. As Jed had been my best friend since kindergarten, he’d heard it all from him, too. And from that day forward, we always thought we’d find the same woman. The one for both of us.

  That probably wasn’t what my dad had meant, but it had stuck.

  As kids, we’d smile and nod, humoring him and his words. As teenagers, we’d roll our eyes when he continued to remind us. We’d seen lots of girls—we’d done some hardcore looking—and we had yet to want to keep any one of them. Fuck ‘em, definitely, but nothing more.

  The older I got, the more his words sank in. He hadn’t been feeding me a line to keep me a virgin until my wedding night—that hadn’t worked on me, Jed or my brothers. The way my parents loved each other and showed it on a daily basis was proof of his statement. There was no question she ruled his world, that everything he did revolved around her happiness.

  And now, at thirty-two, I wanted that for myself. I believed my dad. Didn’t eye roll any longer. Instead, I waited.

  And waited.

  Jed, too.

  Until the one night that changed my life. They might call me Sir Loin of Beef, but when I saw her for the first time, stick a fork in me, I was done.

  1

  DUKE

  * * *

  The last thing I wanted to see after a long day on a construction site was a guy in nothing but a fucking banana hammock swinging his hips, getting his junk to swing around in a circle.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” I asked, grabbing hold of Jed’s shoulder and spinning him around. I’d come in through the back door of Cassidy’s and found him behind the bar. Obviously, I’d missed the sign out front about male strippers. Since he owned the place, this was a serious surprise. My best friend didn’t go for… this any more than I did. Hadn’t told me a thing about it.

  Jed grinned when he saw me, handing a margarita with salt to a woman. “Ladies’ night,” he yelled above the screaming women and shouts of ‘take it off!’ He flipped the lids off of two beer bottles, set them on the glossy wood bar in front of a lady and swapped them for a ten-dollar bill.

  There were two bartenders working hard at refilling drinks, and they gave me a brief wave of hello. Jed was busy helping. I’d been here for ladies’ night before, but it had never been like this.

  “What’s the deal with the dudes?” I yelled back, closing my eyes and shaking my head as the dancer turned around, bent at the waist and showed his bare ass. Except for the little strip of yellow Speedo fabric that rode up his crack, I could see it all… and so could all the ladies in the audience, much to their delight. I, on the other hand, now had to bleach my eyes. “Jesus,” I muttered, looking away. The bass of the music was set high, and I could feel the reverberations through the floor.

  I had no problem with strippers, but I liked seeing ample tits and a plump pussy after a little show. Not this.

  “Julia thought it would be good for business. She and her marketing skills at work.”

  Based on the number of women packed into the bar and restaurant area, my sister had thought right. Probably every woman over the age of twenty-one in a thirty-mile radius of Raines was here. Based on the way they were waving dollar bills, I doubted the fire department could pry them out the door.

  Speaking of the fire department, the music changed and a new dancer came onto the small stage in costume fire gear. I wondered what was going to stay on besides the plastic red hat on his head. Fortunately, the guy was no one I knew. Again, bleach.

  Grabbing a bar rag, Chris wiped his hands and tossed it down.

  “Why did Julia text me to show up?” I asked. “I don’t need to see this.” I pointed in the general direction of the strip tease. With one hand holding the crown of my cowboy hat against my thigh, I rubbed a hand over my eyes with the other. After dealing with a mind-changing client and a late roofer, I just wanted an ice-cold soda and a hot shower. Running my own construction and remodeling business was supposed to be less stressful than riding on the back of a bull. That was a total lie.

  “You’re not here for the men, but for the women,” Julia said from behind me.

  I turned on my booted heel at the sound of her voice. She angled her head to the side so I could kiss her cheek like I usually did, but instead, I put my palm to her forehead and gave her a gentle push. Being a foot shorter than me and a hundred pounds lighter, it was easy to mess with her. The dork.

  “Women? Since when do I need help with women?” I asked, leaning back against the bar so I faced her, not the guy with only a fireman’s hat covering his… fireman’s hat. Shit.

  Julia rolled her eyes. While the youngest of the four of us, she’d taken it on herself as a mission to see all of her brothers married. All three of us. Even when she, herself, was still single. But a male revue was an interesting twist.

  She grabbed my left hand, held it up. “Since there’s no ring on here”—glancing over her shoulder, she looked to Jed—“and none on his finger either, I thought I’d bring the ladies to you.”

  “Why am I here and not Tucker or Gus? They’re just as single as me,” I grumbled, moving out of the way for one of the bartenders to grab something from a mini-fridge behind me.

  “Because your brothers were smart enough to find out about ladies’ night before they got here. Tucker said, and I quote… ’no fucking way.’”

  Sounded like Tucker, although he always went for the wild ones and liked to tame them with his friend. He’d think this was like shooting fish in a barrel to find a woman, at least for a romp in the hay—or a quick fuck in the bathroom. And these women were primed for dick, especially the one who just tossed her panties at the feet of the latest dancer. They were more eager than the buckle bunnies following the rodeo circuit, and I knew those ladies well. And their panties, too.

  “And Gus?”

  “Said he had a date.”

  “You believe him?” I didn’t. Gus didn’t date. He fucked. And not alone. To say the Duke boys liked to share was an understatement. Each of us planned to claim a woman with others. Me, I was going to find a woman with Jed. We’d ruin her for all other men, mark her with our cum a
nd make her ours. Yeah, mine and Jed’s. We’d shared everything since we were five. Claiming a woman together just made complete sense.

  Julia shrugged. “One out of three of you showing up is pretty decent odds.”

  I sighed. “So you want me to do what, exactly?” I paused, held up my hand. “Wait, you’re not expecting me, either of us to—” I thumbed over my shoulder toward the stage.

  She eyed me up and down, took in my black t-shirt, faded jeans and boots. Typical clothes for a day on the job. “Now that you mention it… got a hard hat in your truck? One of those neon safety vests?”

  “No way.” I took one step toward the exit, and she put a hand on my chest. Jed just glanced at us as he scooped ice into a glass and laughed.

  “I was kidding,” she shouted over the beat of a new song blasting from the speakers, then grinned. “I have no idea how you walk around with such a big ego. The weight of it must be oppressive.”

  Ego? Hell no. It was the size of my balls. They were impressive. And right about now, filled with too much cum. It had been too long since I’d fucked, and I ached to fill the right woman until I was empty. Mark her, get my scent all over so everyone knew she was mine. Then I’d let Jed have a turn.

  Julia kept talking. “Just because you’re reasonably good looking plus being famous and all doesn’t mean women want to see your junk. And you have zero rhythm. You can’t dance to save your life… even mostly naked.”

  I decided to skip the dig on my dancing abilities because it was true. Not only was I bad at it, I hated it. Jed had some moves on the dance floor, but I didn’t see Julia trying to bust his chops to get out there and strip. And he was like a fourth brother to her.

  “I’m not that modest, but I’m a one-woman kind of guy,” I told her. And I was looking for a two-guy woman. “Not”—I glanced toward the crowd and inwardly shuddered—“two hundred.”

  I loved women. All shapes and sizes. I revered everything from pert little breasts to lush handfuls. Slim and willowy figures to thick and plenty to hold onto. I didn’t discriminate, not when it came to pussy. I loved pussy. The feel, the scent, the taste. My mouth watered wanting some.

  But I didn’t need my sister picking out pussy for me and Jed.

  We could pick out our own. Julia thought we had women flinging their panties at us left and right, and that had been the case when we were on the pro rodeo circuit. Not now. Getting injured, quitting and returning home to settle down made me see what I’d been missing. And Jed had followed me not long after. And it wasn’t accessible pussy we were wanting. No, it was the pussy. The one we’d been looking for and had yet to find. I was looking for commitment. Long term. Picket fences and all that. To settle down with the perfect woman, the perfect pussy and never look back. But it wasn’t like I was going to tell my sister that; otherwise I’d be set up on blind dates left and right. Jed, too. This bar visit would be nothing compared to what she’d put us through.

  And as for Tucker and Gus, if they thought we had a different woman in bed every night, I wasn’t going to correct them. They’d pester the shit out of me if they learned the truth. Tell me my dick would fall off if it didn’t get wet every once in a while. Same with Jed.

  “Then you two need to pick one.”

  I arched a brow at Julia’s statement. She’d known we’d share a woman since… forever. Same with her other brothers. And, her, too, although I avoided thinking about her with one man, let alone two.

  “I’m not going out there. I might not come back alive. Or with clothes on.”

  It was like being sent out to fend for myself against a bunch of she-wolves.

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. I bet you’d get lots of money slipped into your boxers.”

  Jed laughed as he walked by, grabbing a few limes.

  I reached out, dropped my cowboy hat on Julia’s head. With her fingers, she pushed the front up so she could look at me. I just stared at her in return, not amused.

  “Fine. Stay back here and help Jed with drinks then. The bar should be a big enough wall to keep you safe until you find one who might suit your fancy.”

  She patted me on the chest and walked away, taking my hat with her.

  Suit my fancy? She sounded like our grandmother, Nana Jean.

  “When did she become so bossy?” I asked Jed.

  He grinned again as he sliced a lime on a small cutting board. “Birth, I think. I’m not one to talk. Her marketing ideas are making me a killing.”

  Definitely true based on the size of the crowd, especially for a Thursday night.

  I could just leave, go home and have that shower and relax, but Jed and the other bartenders were busting their asses. They really did need some help keeping up with the drink requests, at least until things died down a little. Cassidy’s was Jed’s livelihood now that he was off the circuit and it did well. Locals came for food or drinks, tourists stopped in on their way to Glacier National Park—and women came for the male strippers. I just had to wonder how Julia had wrangled up the strippers in the first place. And that thought was where I didn’t want to go, so I grabbed a bar rag, tossed it over my shoulder and got to work.

  A few women recognized me, chatted me up. One had slipped me her panties… which, a few years ago, would have been really hot, but now all I thought of was how unhygienic it was over a bar. Another had asked for an autograph on a napkin—which I’d been more willing to oblige—and another wanted a selfie with the famous rodeo champion. Fortunately, the dancers were a distraction and, thankfully, more appealing than me. No one lingered at the bar when there were G-string clad men on the other side of the room. A side of the room I tried to avoid looking at by mixing some margaritas with more vigor than necessary.

  “What can I get you?” Jed said, working beside me. With the four of us behind the bar, we’d gone zone defense to keep from running into each other and I’d gotten the far end.

  “Can I get a pitcher of draft and a phone number?” a woman replied.

  “I’m flattered, sweetheart.”

  “Not yours, his.”

  I wasn’t paying them much attention until Jed nudged me. I looked up from the shots I was pouring and followed his chin tilt—and grin—to the woman in front of him. We might have been in rural Montana, but she was all glammed up for a night out in the big city. Big blue eyes, bright red lips. Blonde hair that curled wild and long over her shoulders. Bare shoulders because she had on some kind of top that was sleeveless and tied at the back of her neck. And it had sequins. In fact, it was all sequins. It reminded me of a Las Vegas casino sign. I couldn’t see her lower half hidden by the bar, but I’d seen enough. She was pretty in a flashy, obvious sort of way, but wasn’t for me. Maybe the twenty-two-year-old me would have been tugging her into the back hallway by now for a quickie, but no longer.

  No, she didn’t make my dick rise. But her wingman did.

  Yeah, her. Holy shit. HER.

  2

  DUKE

  * * *

  Behind the bar, I kicked Jed in the shin to get his attention, but when I tore my gaze away long enough to look at him, I saw his focus was dead-on with mine.

  Her.

  She stood a little behind the flashy woman, but it was obvious in that women-stick-together sort of way that they were here together. She was… shy. Quiet, maybe? Definitely not as forward as her friend. She wasn’t the forward type. And the way she’d rolled her eyes, I knew I wasn’t the first guy her friend had hit on. And once I turned her friend down, I probably wouldn’t be the last.

  The music changed again which had her glancing over her shoulder at the latest stripper—Jesus, a cowboy with chaps, red Speedo and nothing else—then looked back. She wasn’t frowning, but she wasn’t into the strip-fest either. She looked… amused instead of aroused.

  And hot, in that prim librarian sort of way. Because while others were out for a wild girls’ night in various stages of barely dressed—from short skirts and skimpy tank tops to slutty dresses and sti
lettos, including her friend’s sequins—she had on a crisp white blouse and jean skirt. Cute as fuck cowboy boots.

  I didn’t know of any woman besides a grandma or a waitress who wore a button up white shirt. And she was no grandma. No, she had to be in her mid-twenties and the only button up I wanted to see her in was one of mine after a night of wild sex, and nothing else. Maybe a few love bites of mine marking her skin, a mix of Jed’s cum and mine coating her pussy and inner thighs. We’d see that and know she was ours. She’d feel it slip from her, a constant reminder that her pussy belonged to us.

  Fuck, I was hard as a fence post and that was just thinking about her shirt.

  Her dark hair was parted down the middle and pulled back into a bun. A bun. But she was gorgeous and having her hair styled so simply only showed that off. Big, dark eyes, pert nose and full, pouty lips that weren’t slicked with red but with some kind of clear gloss. So fucking kissable and I ached to see them stretched wide as I watched her take Jed’s cock nice and deep.

  She wasn’t trying like her friend. Hell, she didn’t need to, not with me. Not with the way Jed was ready to jump over the bar to get to her. Any guy who wasn’t blind could see how beautiful she was.

  If these male dancers didn’t make her pussy wet, I wanted the chance to do so. No, more than a chance. I wanted it all with her and she hadn’t even said a word.

  I wanted to tug that bun loose, unbutton that modest blouse and see what kind of sexy confection covered those full breasts.