Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (37 page)

“Haven’t we already determined she’s crazy?” Evan asked.

“Yeah, but apparently she can’t be stopped as easily as we’d hoped.” Kane studied Peyton’s face. Damn it to hell, he couldn’t stand to see her upset. “Honey, everything will be okay.”

“We have a flight in an hour. We should arrive in Asheville by four o’clock. We’ll stop by the club on the way in so you can see her.” Evan tried to reassure their wife. “Ansley’s tough like her mom. She’ll be fine.”

“I’ll feel better once we’re home,” Peyton admitted.

“Get packed, baby,” Kane said, traipsing into the living room but leaving the bedroom door open. At times like these, he feared for his whole family, not just the one currently dodging bullets.

Evan and Braden followed him. “How bad was it?” Braden asked, lowering his voice.

“The cottage has significant damage. I told Brock to let the hotel-management staff know we’d take care of repairs, but he said Tristan had already taken care of it. Who is this guy? What do either of you know about him?”

“I’ve seen him but never been formally introduced,” Braden informed him.

“Same here,” Evan said.

“Then that makes three of us. Whenever I’ve been by Clink to visit the girls, he’s always busy.” Kane took a deep breath. “Do either of you know anything about Bailey?”

“Seems like a nice guy,” Evan replied.

“I enjoy his martinis. He’s a heck of a bartender,” Braden said.

“Well, gee. That’s damned important,” Kane remarked sarcastically. “You’ve heard the bartender jokes just like I have. If he can stir up a good drink, he’s good with clear fluids. If he can mix a decent cocktail, he can shake things up in the bedroom. That Bailey, he sounds like one hell of a good guy for our daughter, huh?”

“Shit, Kane,” Evan said. “Give the poor fella a break.”

“He’s right. We’ve already successfully built one wall between us and Kimberly. Let’s not start construction on another one. Ansley isn’t Kimberly. If we start complaining about her choices in men, she won’t walk away. She’ll run.”

Kane frowned. “I don’t want our daughters in bed with men who have a torrid past.”

“Of course you don’t, Kane,” Peyton said, entering the room. “You’d rather them hop in the sack with dull and boring men, hoping they won’t be impressed enough to loiter there long.”

“You think this is funny?”

“Do you see me laughing?” Peyton asked. “Rather than pick apart your daughter’s judgment, be thankful for what we have tonight. Trixie and Kimberly are out of town and they’re safe. Ansley could’ve been killed, but she wasn’t. The men in her life protected her. If you ask me, they’ve already earned my vote, each and every one of them.”

Braden and Kane shared a knowing glance. Finally Evan broke the silence and said, “After what happened with Neely and Kimberly, I can tell you this. I won’t be the first to tell Ansley she’s made a poor choice and screwed up, even if she has. We all see how that worked out with Kimberly. When Neely broke her heart, she didn’t run home, she fled the country.”

“He’s right, Kane,” Peyton said. “And these guys looking after Ansley obviously have money. If you piss them off, they’ll have the means to match ours. If she loves them, she could disappear from our lives for good.”

“It won’t happen,” Kane promised.

Peyton frowned. “It better not.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Tristan paced the floor. Graham and Elliott stood at the window, talking to several security guards through the broken glass. Bailey was out front speaking with the local authorities and giving his statement.

Ansley gathered her things. She wasn’t sure where they planned to take her, but she trusted them completely. When the gunshots were fired into the cottage, the guys had surrounded her, protecting her with their own lives.

“Hurry up,” Tristan barked.

“I’m moving as quickly as I can,” she snapped, thinking he needed to settle down. “Jordie Anne was probably smart enough to know we called the police, Tristan. She won’t come back here tonight. It’s over. No one was hurt.”

He took a deep breath. He walked across the room and looped his arms around her waist. Holding her head against his chest, he said, “I can’t lose you, baby. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for what we have, that special connection I feel when I’m with you. I won’t lose that. Not now. Not ever.”

Touching his cheek, Ansley said, “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

His lips skimmed across hers, and he closed his eyes for a fleeting second.

“Better?” she asked.

He winked then turned toward the window. “Everything taken care of over there?”

“Yes,” the guard quickly replied. “We may have some questions for you later, Mr. Voorhees. Where can we reach you?”

“Did you give them your number?” Tristan asked Graham.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Addressing the guard, Tristan said, “Just call him. He’ll know how to get in touch with me.”

The guard frowned. Reluctantly, he said, “We should probably have a number on file for you.”

“I’m always at Clink. The front desk has the number.”

Apparently satisfied, the guard walked away.

Bailey returned. Waving several sheets of pink paper in the air, he said, “I took care of the police report. Where do you want me to put these copies?”

“Just leave them on the kitchen counter,” Tristan replied. “We’re all set in here.”

“Brock just pulled in. He’s waiting to follow us back to the club. He said once we’re settled, he needs to run over to his place and pick up a few things, but he’s staying with us, in case Jordie Anne decides to visit Clink before tomorrow night.”

“We don’t need him,” Tristan said, eyeing Ansley. The heat in his gaze sent a tingle straight down her spine. She must’ve jerked, because a slow smile tilted his lips. “Don’t think you’re off the hook tonight, sub. I have big plans for you.”

Minutes later, they were headed toward the club. Bailey followed behind them. Graham and Elliott were in the Jeep ahead of them, and Brock led the way in a pickup truck.

Squeezing her hand, Tristan glanced at her several times before he finally tugged her arm forward. Stealing a quick kiss, he said, “Would you do something for me?”

Her mouth went dry as she contemplated his pending request. Oh dear Lord, she could only hope.

“You know what I’m going to ask. Don’t you?”

She slowly nodded.

He leaned back and loosened his belt at the same time. Fiddling with the top button on his jeans, he quickly unzipped, pulling his cock free of white briefs and denim.

“Yum,” she crooned, unhooking her seatbelt.

His expression darkened as he pumped his cock through a tightly drawn fist. “Are you up for this?”

She stared down at his cock and said, “Are you kidding me? I’d much rather watch you take care of yourself. It’s not every night that a woman can watch a man jack off while driving down the road.”

“I’d rather feel that slick tongue rubbing all over me.”

“Would you?” she teased, her fingers dipping under him. She massaged his balls with a tender caress.

“Oh yes,” he crooned. “Like that, sub. Right like that.”

Dropping her head between his belly and the steering wheel, she kissed the tip of his dick, dragging her tongue over the slit before fully consuming him.

“There you go. Hmm, yeah.”

Swirling her tongue around his size, she tested her gag reflexes and drew him to her throat. Sucking his cock, she mumbled against his shaft, holding him at the base as her head moved up and down.

“Um, baby,” he said, reaching around her body and sliding his hand under her top. Before the police had arrived at the cottage, she’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt. The fitted material clung to her form and he wiggled his hand as he tried to slide his fingers under her bra.

His touch was like adding hot coals to a raging fire. She continued to suck his cock, bouncing her head over him as her pace increased. A drop of fluid tantalized her tongue and she licked her lips.

“I didn’t plan on coming while I’m driving, but by damn, I think you may just catch a mouthful.”

“That’s the idea,” she said, pushing her hand between her thighs. Feeling the warm heat between her legs, she rubbed her pussy.

“Stop that,” he growled, looking down. “I see you over there playing, too.”

“I need to come,” she muttered against his dick. Lapping at the crest, she added, “You want to play fair. I know you do.”

“No, sub. I don’t. I’ll reward you for this, but you have to wait your turn. Drop your hand. Suck my cock.”

She groaned. “Yes, Sir!”

And then by God, she went to town. If she couldn’t pleasure herself while she gave head, no problem, but she was bound and determined to give the man a blow job he’d never forget.

Pushing her hair behind her shoulders, she licked and sucked, fucking him with a willing mouth. She cradled his balls, cupping their size, gently pinching the skin between the base of his cock and his scrotum.

“Ah sugar,” he rasped, flattening his palm atop her head. “Right there. You’re so good, sub, so special and sweet.”

Massaging his cock with her mouth, she increased the speed, gripping the shaft at a midway point. He pushed forward, shoving his hard penis down her throat. She took the hint and swallowed over and over, allowing his increased breathing to guide her.

He was close, very close. No, oh hell no, he was already there!

A shot of his cum ran down her throat, breaking free of his resistance. Yanking her hair with his free hand, Tristan pressed his head against the headrest behind him. His dick sprang forward, flexing toward her throat. “Ah fuck! I can’t hold back, baby…oh God…damn, Ansley!”

A hot spray of his release coated her tonsils, and she swallowed repetitively, her mouth closing around him. Her tongue practically operated on automatic as she licked his flavorful spill. She savored his addictive taste, relished the opportunity to have her head in his lap, and kept sucking like crazy, feeling empowered as his dick slipped halfway down her throat.

“Damn. Damn. Damn,” he muttered, his cock pulsing as the slick length vibrated against her tongue.

The entire time she blew him, his fingers were working, spinning around her nipple. She closed her eyes and dreaded releasing him. If Brock wasn’t a few cars ahead of them, she’d suck Tristan’s cock until they reached the club’s gates.

Then, she’d grovel like never before. She’d beg Bailey, Graham, and Elliott to take their independent turns and drive her around the city until the sun came up and the arriving threat, the pending danger, was all but forgotten.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Someone enjoyed his travels,” Bailey said, nodding toward Tristan’s lower half.

Tristan tugged at his shirt, jerking down the hem so his bright royal-blue polo hung well below the crotch. Clink’s parking lot was well lit, and Ansley couldn’t help but notice his disheveled appearance.

Man, but he sure looked fine. His outerwear portrayed him as the guy next door. He wore dark, thigh-hugging jeans, short sleeves that wrapped around finely tuned muscles, and a pair of boots. Though, come to think of it, the cowboy footwear looked a little odd on Tristan’s feet. Still, with his chestnut hair, flawless skin, and perfect teeth, he looked good enough to sip nice and slow through a milkshake straw.