Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

She wanted to laugh and started to let the good times roar until she realized she’d been insulted. Did he think she was flat-chested? She glanced down at her breasts. She wasn’t necessarily well stacked, but her boobs weren’t comparable to mosquito bites either. “If you’d caught me at the right time—a few drinks in and another one on the way—I might have lifted up my shirt and made a liar out of you. There’s more than a mouthful. I promise.”

“Depends on the mouth, I guess,” Tristan pointed out, dragging his thumb over his bottom lip.

Under his careful inspection, her pussy clenched. Her nipples throbbed, the buds overly sensitive as the points poked through her lace bra.

Tristan dragged his tongue over his luscious mouth. He acted as if he were starving, as if he could almost picture himself devouring her breasts. Was he trying to figure out if she possessed more than what would easily fit between his lips?

Her mouth went dry. The way she responded to Tristan sent her libido into overdrive. She’d move mountains for a kiss right then.

Fuck
. Tristan was exactly what she didn’t need in her life, yet there she was imagining the delicious activities they could enjoy together, the enticing ways they might be able to pass the time. She shuddered as the nip in the air provoked scattered chill bumps across her arms. Eventually, they’d come together in search of body heat.

Things could be worse. She could’ve been stuck in that refrigerated stall all alone.

“Yeah, Ansley. I’m pretty sure about those boobs.” His eyes were hooded, the lust heavily stamped in his eyes. “But who knows, you may be right. I’d like to test your theory.”

“About?”

“The mouth is the ticket. Oh and, uh, how well a fella might use his to satisfy the right woman.”

“If you say so,” she whispered, wondering if she fit the bill as being the “right” woman. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind, or his for that matter, given his lusty expression. He was obviously dying for a taste of her. She was one step closer to offering him a sip of her lips, right along with everything else below the neck.

“Careful, darlin’. We’re closer than you might think.”

Shit
. Her eyes gave her away every time. They weren’t just windows to the soul, they provided clues and hints. Tristan might as well use them as lust detectors.

“You watch yourself, too,” she warned. “While you were trying to make sure I was comfortable, I caught a glimpse of a likeable person living underneath that brooding persona.”

Dangerous was more like it.

“Give me a few hours,” he rasped. “You’ll love what I can do for you.”

“And then what?”

“We’ll play it by ear,” he replied, making promises without commitments. She liked him a little better as time wore on.

She didn’t know anything about Tristan Voorhees, but she’d use the next few hours to learn more. Why not? In less than ten minutes flat, he’d managed to spike her curiosity and her nipples, so he couldn’t be a boring guy.

Tristan had the local gossip beat humming. No one in the Asheville area knew him. Patience hired him because he “said” he’d worked in the bar business for over five years.

He came by employment without references. He didn’t have family in town. He didn’t have an apartment or any place of residence.

Tristan, in fact, resided at The Grove Park Inn, which implied a lot. He had some money stashed away somewhere and probably liked the finer things in life.

If that were the case, he’d take to her like bees to honey.

Rather than sit there gaping at a man who could probably give a nun wet dreams, she stood up and threw her weight against the door once more. Oh God, she needed to get away from him.

Tristan represented interference. He could turn her life upside down. And she did
not
believe in love at first sight.

Rubbing her shoulder after the hit proved unsuccessful, she screamed, “Damn it!”

“What’s wrong, little girl? Are you afraid to be alone with a man you don’t know?”

Ansley whipped around and glared at the fellow who obviously wanted to intimidate her. “I own this club. You work for me. You might try to keep that in mind.”

“That’s a deal. But do me a favor and try to remember I’m also a man. You’re a woman. We spend our nights watching Doms and subs act out their every fantasy. If the boredom becomes too much while we’re sealed off in here, we can certainly find our own entertainment. We’re consenting adults.”

Consenting, hell.

“Do you make a habit out of propositioning your bosses?”

“Only the pretty ones.”

She needed to teach Mr. Tristan Voorhees a valuable lesson. She pranced across the room. “Let me guess. You think you can say a few seducing remarks and before you know it we’ll start trading sexual favors for compliments?”

“Sounds like fun to me,” he replied. “But honey, I really don’t think brownie points are needed here. I do my job. I’m pretty good at bartending. I’m paid like all the other employees on your payroll.”

“I see,” she drawled. “Just a good old boy earning an honest wage, are you?”

“Something like that,” he replied. His tongue slid across his upper lip, slow and easy. He really needed to put a leash on that damning beast. She could only imagine the way he might make her howl under that sweet swipe. “I was always teacher’s pet growing up. I tend to attract older women. You don’t have to worry. I have more in common with older ladies, cougars. No offense.”

“Ahh,” she whimpered. “Now you’re trying to hurt my feelings. You want me to think I’m not your type.”

“I never said that. In fact, I blatantly stated the opposite. Please try to pay attention.” A second later, he added, “Trouble is, I scare you, little girl.”

She grated back bad words. Little girl, hell. She’d show him more woman than he’d ever had in his bed.

She was wrong about having a good day. In fact, he was starting to ruin her week. She never claimed to be psychic but suddenly saw her future in this man.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you,
boss
.”

Now, she could relax. They were back on professional grounds. Whew. How great it felt to breathe again. He’d keep things simple after all. “Go ahead. We have nothing to waste but words and minutes.”

“I’m curious about the incentives around here. I’m told there are employee benefits after someone works at Clink for six months. What about the bonuses for those of us who are too greedy to wait until the perks kick in?”

“Oh, you’re good,” she said, backing up a step. Why couldn’t she just relax and enjoy him, see where all of this might lead? There was no harm in playing. If degrees were handed out for fluent flirting, she held a doctorate. He was no match for her. Not really.

Good heavens. What was wrong with her? She was making an erection out of a flaccid length, and why? She didn’t act this way around the Killian brothers, and she’d always known they had a place in her future.

“Some gals say I’m one of the best.”

Now he was starting to sound like Jason Neely. No wonder Kimberly hired him. Maybe her sister had a crush on him. She made a mental note to call her twin and double check. The last thing she needed was to step on her toes again.

“So tell me,
Sir
, how many women have had the privilege of voting in Tristan’s poll?”

“Are we getting personal now?”

“You’ve obviously been awaiting the perfect time to show me what you’re made of, so go for it. Tell me.”
Show me.

“Rough stock, darlin’.”

“I can believe that.”

“You haven’t been able to get me off your mind since we first met.”

Yep
. “No, that’s not true.”

“I don’t buy it, Ansley. In fact, I’m starting to believe I’m all you’ve thought about since our first introduction.”

She gulped. Why not play it his way? “What if you’re right?”

He leaned over, cupped her nape, and whispered in her ear, “Well, doll, a gentleman might tell you what I’d tell a daughter if I had one.” He breathed in, released a steady stream of hot air, and took another deep breath before nuzzling her ear and said, “I’m the kind of fellow you might want to avoid.

“But darlin’, I’m only giving you one warning. If you can’t stay away from the fire, don’t cry wolf when the animal instincts take over and you finally feel the heat in all the right places. Cause, Ansley, once we start messin’ around? The games are over. In fact, I’m telling you now, if I find myself between your shapely legs, I’ll probably thrust for keeps.”

She gulped. Yep. There it was. The one and only reason she needed to fire Mr. Tristan Voorhees. And his softly spoken promises were the start of many fantasies, too. Tristan wasn’t going anywhere.

When he returned to Asheville, he fully planned to stay and play.

Chapter Two

“Hello?” Jordie Anne clutched her cell as she hurriedly packed her bags.

“Hey, baby.” Mitch’s deep voice filled the line. “How are ya?”

“I’m better now,” she assured him.

In fact, she wasn’t doing well at all. She’d served Mae a deadly dose of arsenic, and she wanted to avoid witnessing the ramifications of the poison’s magic. From what she’d read, once ingested, arsenic caused all sorts of horrid medical problems from vomiting to convulsions.

Mae would want a death of dignity. Jordie Anne felt it would be best if she left before her old friend began showing signs and symptoms of the poison’s performance.

She sighed. With friends like herself, no one needed enemies.

“Are you there, baby?”

“Yes, hon,” she replied. “I’m just busy at the moment.”

“Want me to call you back?”

“No, no, now is good,” she said, hurriedly gathering her things while tossing various items of clothing into a large piece of luggage she’d found in Mae’s attic.

“So what have you done this morning? Anything interesting?”

Son of a bitch
. He probably expected her to say she’d spent most of the early hours thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy, all in his honor, with his name on her lips. “I worked a few hours. I had to open this morning. We unpacked a pallet of house-training supplies for pets. You know, potty pads, kitty-litter boxes, and such.”

How was that for painting a glamorous sexual image?

“Oh,” he muttered, sounding disappointed. “Well, how’s the job? Do you enjoy it? Do you like the people you work with?”

“I work in a surplus store, Mitch. How do you think I like it?”

“I told you I can have the trustee send more money. You don’t have to work, honey.”

“Mae won’t let me quit. She says it’s important to keep busy, stay occupied.”

“She’s right, you know, but that doesn’t mean you should work somewhere you don’t like. There are other jobs.”

“In this economy? Are you kidding?”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“The job or the economy?” she asked, rushing into the bathroom. She grabbed her toiletry items, shoved a few of them in a cosmetics bag, and returned to the bedroom.