Riding Her Rough [Men for Hire 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Men for Hire 2

  Riding Her Rough

  Sela Reynolds is a pop star. Her life is going great until her boyfriend cheats on her and steals her money, reinforcing her trust issues. Needing time to get away, she ends up playing Goldilocks to three sexy cowboys.

  Bill, William, and Carter Richland work for Cowboys for Hire and run their own ranch. When they find a beautiful woman in their bathtub, they’re thrown for a loss, but know they’ve found the woman of their dreams.

  Even knowing that Sela (aka Shawna) lied to them, giving them a fake name as well as a fictitious sob story, the men still want her as their woman. When she refuses, saying she can’t trust any man, they decide to ride her rough, showing her what life would be like without them.

  Can she learn to trust them with not only her life, but her heart, too? Or will she lose her life first?

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among the men.

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 43,422 words

  RIDING HER ROUGH

  Men for Hire 2

  Jane Jamison

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  RIDING HER ROUGH

  Copyright © 2013 by Jane Jamison

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-937-0

  First E-book Publication: May 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Riding Her Rough by Jane Jamison from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Jane Jamison’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Jamison’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To all the cowboys and the women who love them.

  RIDING HER ROUGH

  Men for Hire 2

  JANE JAMISON

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  Sela Reynolds stared at the door and fought to keep from running after the bastard. But she had more pride than that. That and the fact that she’d just fired his sorry ass from both his job as one of her soundmen and that of being her lover.

  She flopped onto the dressing room couch and studied the ceiling. Which was worse? Finding out that her boyfriend of eight months had been ripping her off? Or that he’d used her money to shower that skinny-ass, pleather-clad, pink-haired freak of a sound guy with presents? How could she have not known Johnnie was gay? Or bi? Or whatever the fuck he was?

  Johnnie Pritchard had everything she’d been looking for in a man. He was tall, built, and had a smile that could melt the panties right off her. And he’d done just that within the first two months of the tour. He’d come onto the team as a replacement for one of her regular soundmen for her first country-wide tour, and thinking that her manager had vetted him, she hadn’t given his appearance as a roadie any thought. Musicians and the crew that it took to put on a show came and went all the time. She had, however, noticed him the first second he’d spoken through the mike and asked her if the bass was too low. His voice had been a bass sound, too, and as deep and rich as she’d ever heard.

  So how the hell did I not know he was fooling around? And that he was stealing from me?

  She’d gotten lucky to find out when she had. Cathy, one of her backup singers, had clued her in that the two sound guys were making their own kind of steam even as the steam machine had sent fog rolling over the stage during the show in Tulsa. Once she’d seen the diamond ring—the exact one that Johnnie had pointed out to her as they’d taken a break and strolled by a jewelry store earlier that week—she’d had the good sense to call her accountant. She’d found out Johnnie had dipped his fingers a little too far into her fun-money account. She’d been stupid to tell him about it in the first place, including letting him spy over her shoulder as she withdrew money at the ATM. Hell, smart people did stupid shit all the time, right?

  At least she’d finally caught him. But why did it have to be during the tour? The rest of the crew was probably having a damn fine laugh about it, and she dreaded facing them. Thankfully, she had a break in the schedule and could hide out for a few days before having to hold her head high and pretend none of it had ever happened. And if she had to cancel a couple of shows, then so be it.

  Right after I press charges for theft and nail his ass to the wall. Then I’m going to turn a dozen mean-ass pit bulls loose on him.

  She grabbed her phone off the nearby table and made two calls. The first was to Chuck, the driver her manager had arranged to ferry her around town while they were in Tulsa, telling him to pick her up in back of the arena. That way, other than her bodyguards, not many people would see her slink out of the building. They’d all be expecting her to show up at the usual after-concert party.

  Once she’d finished the call to her driver, she made one to Grisham Frish, her manager. He wasn’t going to like what she was about to tell him, but that couldn’t be helped. Sometimes a pop star had to do what a pop star had to do.

  He answered on the second ring, no doubt recognizing the blocked ID as coming from her. “Yeah, Sela, what do you need? The show was fantastic as usual.�
�

  “Thanks. Are you sitting down?”

  She always used those words whenever she wanted to tell him bad news. Like the time she hated the song the record company wanted her to record. Or the time she’d broken her toe skiing in Colorado, making her miss the plush Hollywood party with the producers and directors he’d wanted her to meet.

  “Aw, hell. Don’t do this to me, Sela. The tour’s going really well. Let’s not do anything to fuck that up, okay?”

  “You’re going to have to hire another soundman. I just broke up with Johnnie.”

  The silence on the other end of the phone almost deafened her.

  “I’m sorry, hon.”

  She sat up, clutching her phone in a death grip. “Holy gumdrops. You knew, didn’t you? How the hell?”

  “Word gets around fast on a tour.”

  “But I just now threw his sorry ass out.” She closed her eyes and supported her head with her hands on her forehead.

  “Yeah, well, Cashin called me.”

  Walter Cashin was her accountant, and although he was a very good numbers man, she’d hired him mainly because of the way his name sounded. Cash in. And cashing in on her voice was what she’d wanted to do for as long as she could remember. She’d worked hard, playing every two-bit bar and county fair until she’d finally walked into Grisham’s office and convinced him that she was the next pop star. She’d proven her boast a mere six months later when her first song took off and raced to the top of the charts.

  “Damn it. Does everyone know?”

  “No one outside our little family. So far.”

  Family? Was that what her crew was to her? So not only was Johnnie a jerk of a boyfriend and a thief, but he was part of her family? Oh, hell no.

  “I’m already working on keeping it off Entertainment Update. Don’t worry, hon. This, too, shall pass.”

  God, how I hate that phrase. Almost as much as I hate that damn tabloid TV show.

  She regrouped as best she could. “Then you’ll understand when I tell you that I have to get away for a while.”

  “Sure, sure. We’ve got a couple more shows to do here, then you’ll have five days before you have to be in Chicago. Do you want me to line up someplace for you to go? How about a five-star hotel with room service? You could chill for a week then come back fresh for the tour.”

  “No. I’m doing this on my own. I need to disappear for a while. No managers, no crew, and for sure no reporters.”

  She could almost see him getting to his feet. “Now hold up. I can’t have you going off on your own.”

  “I’m a big girl, Grisham, and I can handle myself.” Except when low-life, money-stealing men get hold of me.

  “I know that. But hiding out and going missing are two different things. I need to reach you. We’re in the middle of a tour, for God’s sake.”

  Sela tracked a hand through her hair and caught her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. Her hair flowed around her face, and she still had stage glitter covering her cheeks as well as the heavy makeup she wore while onstage. She hated the feeling, but without it, her skin paled under the bright lights. She tugged her hair back and tied it into a loose ponytail.

  The inkling of an idea brought her to her feet. What was it that Cathy had talked about the other night? They’d both been half-buzzed on champagne when Cathy had rambled on about a friend of hers getting help from some men. Wasn’t it something about cowboys catching up with a stalker who was e-mailing her friend? And, if she remembered correctly, they’d taken her to a nearby ranch. It was somewhere outside of Tulsa near a small town called Destiny.

  “Yeah. About the tour…” She let her words trail off, knowing he’d pick up on her meaning.

  “Not a chance. You can’t cancel.”

  “It’s only a couple of shows.”

  “A couple of shows until Chicago, you mean. But cancelling any show is bad for your reputation.”

  She laughed, and even to her, the sound had a bitter edge to it. “I’m a pop star. I’m supposed to have a bad reputation.”

  “Not that kind of one. I’d rather you trash your hotel room than skip a concert. Not all fans are that forgiving, you know.”

  “I know, but I’ve got to have some time away. Tell me you can understand that.”

  She snagged her bag and started scouring through the contents. She wasn’t sure why she’d done so, but she remembered writing down the name of the company Cathy had told her about. If such men existed, she wanted to meet them.

  “At any other time? Sure. But not during a tour. Besides, if you leave now and word gets out about Johnnie, everyone will know that you’re hurt and using that as an excuse not to perform. Do you really want to make it seem like he’s that important to you?”

  He had a point. Johnnie would get a kick out of it if he thought he was the one who had sent her over the edge with a broken heart. She narrowed her eyes at her reflection. He hadn’t broken her heart, but he’d cracked it a little.

  Boyfriends had cheated on her before, until at last, she’d finally gotten the message and had cut them loose. Not that she’d had that many boyfriends. It was just too hard to let anyone get that close.

  Then a pervert math teacher had blamed her, earning her a suspension, when he’d been the one to shove her into the janitor’s supply closet. But the principal who’d found them hadn’t listened to her and had come down on the side of his friend and colleague.

  After everything she’d been through, including a lousy absent father, her heart had built up an outer shell that could withstand almost anything. Johnnie’s betrayal was nothing she couldn’t repair with a little alone time.

  So who cared what everyone else thought? Hadn’t that been the way of it since the beginning? She’d grown up a loner with a mother who’d worked herself to death trying to keep food in her children’s stomachs and a shack of a home around them after her no-good father had skipped out. Since then, she’d kept to herself, opening up to a few men only to have each of them betray her in one way or another.

  If only Mom had lived long enough to see me become a success.

  She shook away the tightness in her chest that thinking of her mom always gave her. She’d wanted to shower her mom with a big home and fancy cars along with a life where she never had to work again. And she would’ve made good on that promise if her mother hadn’t gotten struck down by a drunk driver. After the loss of their mother, she’d sent money to her younger brothers until they, too, had taken advantage of her by using the money to gamble instead of attending college.

  Not for the first time, she had to wonder if all men were untrustworthy.

  “Sela, are you listening to me? Do you want to let everyone think Johnnie meant that much to you?”

  “Anyone who knows me won’t believe that. As for the rest? Who gives a damn?”

  She pulled the napkin out of her purse and stared at the name she’d written there. Was what Cathy had told her for real?

  Cowboys for Hire.

  She chuckled. What a sucky name.

  “Look, Sela, let’s get together and talk about this.”

  “Nope. My mind’s made up. Cancel the next two shows with full pay to the crew. Aside from that asshole, Johnnie, of course.”

  “Sela, think this over, hon. Don’t do—”

  She ended the call then dropped the phone back on the table. She didn’t like being rude to Grisham, but she knew that if she hadn’t ended the call, he wouldn’t have stopped trying to talk her out of it. And, as she knew from experience, the longer he talked, the better chance he had of convincing her.

  Grabbing her purse, she cracked the door open. Seeing no one other than the two bodyguards the arena security team had assigned to her, she waltzed out as though she didn’t have a care in the world. The guards fell into step behind her as she headed toward the exit. Chuck would have the car waiting.

  Cowboys for Hire.

  Since she was getting away for a while, she might as well check it out for
the fun of it. After all, a group with that name couldn’t really exist, could it?

  The smile she’d forced into place for anyone who might see her changed into a real one.

  Okay, cowboys, better get your spurs on because here I come.

  Chapter Two

  Sela opened the back door of the black Mercedes then paused to lean over the seat in front of her. Getting to Destiny had taken her longer than expected, but that could’ve just been her nerves. She was eager to get away from the tour, and excited at the prospect of an adventure.

  “Don’t bother helping me out, Chuck. Oh, and pull around to the next street and wait for me. I don’t want to draw any more attention than I already have.”

  Chuck shifted to look at her without using the rearview mirror. She’d guessed his age to be around fifty, what with the gray hugging his temples and the paunch that spoke of nights in front of a television with a beer in his hand. She liked that he’d never heard of her and had chatted easily as he took her from her hotel to the arena and back again.

  “Look, miss—”

  “Please, Chuck. How many times have I asked you to call me Sela?”

  “Right. Look, Miss Sela—”

  She bit back a grin. That wasn’t what she’d meant, but she guessed that was as familiar as he was going to get.

  “I know I don’t have any right to say anything, but why are you in Destiny? This town’s not big enough to have a Walmart, much less anywhere you’d be likely to perform.”

  She leaned back against her seat again. “The less you know, the better it’ll be. Trust me. I’m not out to rob a bank or plow under anyone’s garden.”