Billionaire's Ranch: A Bisexual Cowboy MMF Menage

By Ellie Hunt

She didn't know whether she wanted to kiss him or slap him.

Lydia's a young photographer who's gotten the chance of a lifetime: an Ansel Adams Fellowship, which pays her to photograph the West. Even better, room and board are free - the recipient of the fellowship lives at the huge, luxurious lodge of reclusive billionaire Bryce Evans, perched in the mountains above Aspen.

Also living at the lodge is Hudson Tanner, Bryce's longtime friend, who immediately takes a shine to Lydia, showing her around the ranch and the town.

At first, everything seems perfect. Hudson and Bryce seem like they're more than just friends, but Lydia figures that's their own business.

But then she's hurt in an accident and Bryce pays her hospital bills - and forbids her from going to photograph the last rodeo of the season. Hudson takes her anyway and swears her to secrecy, only for Bryce to find out the next day.

After the ensuing fight, is Lydia leaving the ranch forever, or can the two men work together to persuade her to stay?

Billionaire's Ranch is high-heat, super-steamy threesome novella featuring an innocent young women shared by two rough, rugged, rich cowboys!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellie Hunt
• Release date: Aug 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005194512

Ellie Hunt

Ellie is wine-loving, latte-drinking mom of three who loves her dog a little too much and her treadmill not enough.When she's not dreaming up dirty stories, she's probably supervising dance class or taking notes at a PTA meeting, where no one is the wiser about her secret writing life!

Book preview

Chapter One

Lydia cupped her coffee with both hands and shivered a little on the balcony. She had an old Mexican blanket around her shoulders, and she knew that as soon as the sun finished lifting itself over the front range the day would warm right up, but right now, it was still a bit nippy.

The early mornings, she thought, were the thing that was getting to her the most about ranch life. Riding a horse wasn’t so hard, even with fifteen pounds of camera equipment, and she was an avid hiker and backpacker already, so that part was fine. Nope. It was getting up early, just before the dawn, when Cecilia in the kitchen started clattering around, making coffee and biscuits and bacon. Get up much past six in the morning and you’d miss breakfast.

Boots came down the hall and into the huge, open space. Lydia looked through the plate glass doors separating the balcony, where she stood, from the spacious interior. Everything in it was wood — reclaimed barn wood, Bryce had specified proudly — and though it really should look tacky, it was beautiful and tasteful instead.

Then the boots stopped at the door and Hudson, the ranch’s live-in manager, stood there, looking good as always. That was certainly a part of ranch life Lydia didn’t mind in the least.

Hola, Señora, he said to Cecilia. The older woman stood in front of the stove, one hand on her hip, her long, salt-and-pepper black hair in a bun at the nape of her neck.

Coffee’s made, she said, tilting her head to one side.

You’re an angel, he said, and walked to the coffee pot, poured himself a mug, and drank it black. Lydia had heard the two of them have the exact same conversation every day she’d been on the ranch, though, to be fair, it was only four days so far.

The coffee maker was one of those models that had a drip maker on one side and an espresso machine on the other. Lydia had seen the exact same model for $500 once at Williams Sonoma, and she’d actually laughed out loud at the thought of spending that much on a coffee maker.

Then, she’d come here, and now she drank out of it every morning. She had to admit it made really good coffee.

In the kitchen, Hudson stood near Cecilia, just to her right, and tried to swipe some bacon from the pan. She swatted at him with a spoon, but he got a piece and backed away quickly, blowing on the hot meat to cool it down before gobbling it in one mouthful.

They did that every morning, too. Cecilia sighed loudly, went back to her cooking.

Hudson waved at her, still chewing the bacon.

Mornin’! he said, his voice muffled through the glass doors. Lydia drained her cup, slid the door open, and walked into the warm house.

Good morning, she said. She still felt half-asleep and didn’t understand how Hudson could be so chipper right now. Normally, she could be pleasant enough, but the man actually seemed excited to be awake before the sun was even over the mountains.

Maybe it’s some kind of Stockholm Syndrome, she thought. He’s just been doing it for so many years he actually thinks he likes it.

Lydia walked over and got more coffee, then put some cream in it from the fridge.

We’ll get you broken of that soon enough, Hudson offered, even though she hadn’t said anything else to him.

A woman’s got to have her vices, Lydia countered. She leaned against the kitchen island, crossed her feet in front of her, and took a sip. Cream in my coffee isn’t so bad.

Still, it’s a shame, Hudson said. The skin around his eyes crinkled, the way it always did just before he smiled. Ruining perfectly good coffee like that.

And there was that smile, the improbably perfect teeth, the crinkle around the bright blue eyes. Lydia found him inescapably charming, despite herself. Dashing even. Rougeish, all words she’d never have thought to ascribe to anyone she’d ever met before.

Oh, and attractive. Not her type at all — her type were mostly skinny artists who wore tight pants, beanies, and had