Free Abby and the Wolf Creek Cowboys: western menage erotica by Christina Morino Page A

sniffled and looked so crestfallen that Logan wanted to hug her. So he did, like it was the most natural thing in the world to hug a complete stranger, who also happened to be sexy as hell. Fortified by another slug of whiskey and the attentions of the two guys, Abby began to open up.
    "I came over from England-"
    "I knew it!" interrupted Daniel. "Love the accent."
    "My name's Abigail - Abby for short. I'm half American. My father's from Madison County, He was taking a vacation in London when he met my mother. They got it together, he moved to England and they married, and I was the result. My mother ... she left when I was twelve and we never saw her again, so I was raised by my dad. Unfortunately ..." she paused to wipe her eyes again. "He passed away four years ago. Massive heart attack."
    "Aw honey, that's bad."
    "Yeah," agreed Logan. "We're sorry for your loss."
    "Thanks. I inherited the house and Dad's savings. There was enough for me to pay the bills and put myself through a four year university course. When I finished the course, I rented out my house and took a year out. Thought I'd travel a bit, see the place where Dad came from, maybe find work along the way, and get a job when I go back to England."
    "Sounds good. So what went wrong?"
    "I was robbed in a motel one night in Bozeman. And I stupidly had a large amount of cash - all gone, along with my credit cards. Someone thought they saw a white vehicle, maybe a Chevy, driving away, but didn't get the license plate. It's taken me several weeks to sort things by phone. I arranged for replacement cards and a few more funds to be transferred over from my bank. And I learned the people I rented my house to have pulled out, so now I don't have that income to rely on." She sighed. "So, to keep costs down, I hitched a lift from Bozeman to Ennis, but the jerk of a truck driver got the impression I would be cool if he drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on his dick ..." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "So I baled out - in such a hurry that I left my back pack with all my clothes in. See - I told you I was in a mess."
    "Well Abby, you sure got yourself in a spot. But it could be worse," said Daniel.
    "You still have your passport and your wallet?" asked Logan.
    "Yeah, but there's not much in my wallet."
    "And those replacement credit cards are safe?" probed Logan. Abby nodded. "And your return air ticket?"
    Abbey nodded again. "Yeah. That too."
    "And you're okay - that horny trucker didn't give you a poke?"
    "No he didn't," she snapped. "But I want to punch the bastard."
    "Not if we see him first."
    Abby looked at the two cowboys. She hadn't taken a great deal of notice of either of them earlier as she was preoccupied with her troubles, but now, as she scrutinized them, there was only one word to describe the pair of them: hot.
    Logan would be perhaps mid forties with the physique of a man half his age. He was 6 feet tall, broad shouldered, the outline of biceps visible through his shirt. His hair was dark brown with the merest hint of grey flecks at the temple. A generous mouth and firm jaw added to his sex appeal, enhanced by a pair of liquid brown eyes beneath dark brows. Daniel was maybe ten years younger, powerfully built though a little taller and leaner than Logan, yet possessing that same smouldering sexuality. His hair was so dark it was almost black, in contrast to the vibrant blue of his eyes. They sure were a pair of sexy guys.
    And they were eyeballing her.
    Abby blushed, and brushed away a stray wisp of hair. "Was I staring?"
    "Yeah. But we don't mind." Logan smiled lazily. "Do we, Dan?"
    "Nope." Daniel flashed her a brilliant smile and his blue eyes twinkled. "Say - here comes our steaks."
    The waitress set the plates down, fawning over the two cowboys and hanging on to their every word.
    "I think you have a fan," remarked Abby dryly when Sylvie reluctantly left their table. Not that I blame her. These two are shit hot . She looked at her plate.