Free A Bride for Two Brothers by D. W. Collins

she was in the path of one of those terrible hailstorms that Quinton had warned her about.
    She pushed the four-wheeler to its limit, but it was obvious she could not outrun the storm. The wind grew colder as the storm approached.
    Just when she was sure she would meet her death in the storm’s fury, her salvation appeared. The road crossed a small stream, where a concrete culvert allowed the water to travel under the gravel. Kelsey slammed on the brakes and dismounted with barely enough time to crawl to safety inside the big pipe.
    The cold water wet her jeans, but her crouching position shielded her from the menacing hail. She stared out in fascination as the wall of hail approached. Within seconds, the dusty ground was covered with baseball sized pieces of ice. She could hear the four-wheeler being destroyed in the maelstrom. Then after a moment, the storm’s raging sound was replaced by an eerie silence. She waited until she was sure the danger had passed before she crawled out of her refuge.
    The bright sunlight had returned, and the air felt warm again. Kelsey barely had time to draw a full breath before Marcus’s pickup roared up. The hail had heavily damaged it in the brothers’ frantic rescue attempt. The brothers jumped out and rushed to her.
    “Are you alright?” Marcus yelled.
    “I’m okay,” she said as she stared down at the wrecked all-terrain vehicle. “I’m sorry your four-wheeler got totaled.” She ran her hands over her jeans in a futile attempt to squeeze out some of the dirty water. “Damn, my jeans are soaked!”
    Marcus took hold of her upper arm and led her to the back of the truck. His grip was firm but not rough, and she did not resist. His next words shocked her. “Don’t worry, Quint and I are going to dry your jeans and warm your ass!”

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Marcus took a seat on the tailgate and pulled a now frantically squirming Kelsey across his lap. Quinton’s fingers slipped into the waistband of her drenched jeans and shucked them and her panties around her ankles.
    “Why were you riding with a storm blowing up?” Quinton yelled. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
    She let out a scream as Marcus’s hand connected with her freshly bared, wet bottom. The blow made a splatting sound as water sprayed in every direction.
    “Why are you spanking me?” she wailed.
    Quinton finished removing her jeans and sneakers and tossed them aside.
    “We are going to spank some sense into you,” Quinton growled. “Don’t you remember that I warned you about storms the day you got here?” Several droplets of water struck his face as Marcus delivered another blow. “You need to pay attention. This can be dangerous country when the weather gets bad,” Quinton barked as his brother delivered another blow.
    Kelsey was surprised to feel how different a wet bottom spanking felt and sounded. The moisture made her bottom actually sting more. “Please stop. This is awful! I can’t stand it anymore,” she cried.
    Quinton pulled off his wide leather belt. “This is just the warm up,” Quinton said. “Girl, you’re not even dry yet.”
    Marcus lifted her off his lap and bent her over the tail gate. His heavy boot pushed her feet apart. “Stand like that so Quint can get you nice and dry.”
    Kelsey yelped when the cursed belt striped the backs of her thighs and made the moisture splatter. After a few more hard strokes, she tried to edge her knees closer, but Marcus foiled her effort. Quint stung her inner thighs with the belt’s tongue, and then she quivered as he gently touched her well exposed sex. His silent caressing warned her more effectively than any threat. He administered another series of spanks that left her crimson from waist to knees. Her exposed skin was thoroughly dry.
    Quinton replaced his belt and adjusted the front of his jeans. They had suddenly grown uncomfortably tight. Marcus slipped a hand between her thighs and used his fingers to swat her labia.