Lora Leigh
Marly’s Choice
64
He groaned, closing his eyes. He wouldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t. But he couldn’t forget either. The sight of her kneeling at his feet, his flesh hard and thick sinking into her mouth as she watched him with dazed desire. The sounds of her suckling, her moans of need as he spurted harshly inside her. The memory of the night before seared in his brain. Bent over before him, her lovely rear bare and vulnerable to him, that fucking plug stretching her, driving him crazy. He groaned, his head pressing into the back of the chair as his fingers gripped it tightly. God, he wanted her. Wanted her so desperately he was in danger of hurting her if he managed to get his hands on her again.
Next time, he swore. Next time he had her soft and hot, he was going to fuck the living hell out of her before he ever let her away from him. No. He shook his head roughly. Dammit. He couldn’t take her like that. Not like he had the women before her. His sexuality was like a beast when set loose. Marly deserved gentle, sweet loving, not the dominating sexuality he couldn’t rein in when it was given a chance to free itself. And there would be no controlling it. There was never a way to control it, especially when the need was riding him this hard.
Yet, he couldn’t force himself to call any of the available women he knew. The thought of it was instantly reprehensible. A betrayal. He shook his head. That wasn’t true, this attraction to Marly was the betrayal, and he was going to have to remember that.
But he couldn’t convince his body, or his unruly brain. He closed his eyes, and instantly he saw her, naked and willing, soft and inviting. He would move over her, parting her thighs, lowering his head. His tongue would touch and taste, his fingers would explore and invade. He remembered the feel of her tight little rear clenched around his finger and wondered—no. He opened his eyes, breathing harshly, fighting to contain the lust.
As he sat and brooded over his present predicament, a firm knock at the door interrupted his dark musings.
“What?” he barked, unconcerned that his temper showed in his voice. The door opened, and one of the ranch hands, Bret, stepped hesitantly inside the study.
“Boss, we just found one of the mares injured. You want to come out and look at her?”
Cade rose quickly to his feet. “Which one?”
“Storm’s Promise. She came in from pasture a little bit ago and she’s hurt.” The cowboy scratched his jaw in confusion. “She was fine yesterday.”
Storm’s Promise was Marly’s horse. Grabbing his hat from the corner of the desk, Cade shoved it on his head. He only hoped no one had told Marly about the horse. The old mare was too fragile to ride anymore, but Cade knew she was attached to it.
“What’s wrong with her?” He kept his voice low as they left the house and rushed toward the barn.
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Marly’s Choice
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“She’s been shot, appears to me like.” Bret shook his head. “I put a call in to the vet, he should be here any time now. He was just out at Carlyle’s ranch and fixin’ to leave anyway. Strange thing is, Cade, none of us heard any shots, and that mare wasn’t far enough away that we wouldn’t have heard it.”
Damn Carlyle, now he was using Cade’s vet too. The man was fixing to get hurt. When Cade stepped up to Storm’s stall, he bent slowly, inspecting the long gash along the horse’s flank. It was raw and bloody, and deeper than he would have expected. The wound wasn’t very old, only hours at the most, Cade thought.
“Wasn’t she in the home pasture?” he asked softly, referring to the grazing land around the house.
“Was last night.” Bret Wayne leaned against the stall door, watching Cade as he examined the wound. “And like I said, there ain’t been no shots put off today, period. We would have heard them.”
“The wound isn’t very old.” Cade touched the fresh blood on the horse’s side. “A few hours at the most.”
“Yep. She was limping heavy when she came to the barn, sweaty and breathing hard. Looks like she had run as far as she could after she was hit.”
The pastureland around the house extended for miles all around the ranch yard. But the retort of a gunshot wouldn’t have been missed, even at that distance. Cade straightened up, frowning down at the mare as she shifted painfully, her head tossing as her hoofs stamped against the hay-strewn floor.
“Vet’s on his way, then?” Cade frowned at the wound.
“Should be here within the next little bit, he said.” Bret nodded his shaggy, dark blond head. “I told him we needed him extra quick, so he shouldn’t be long.”
“Get a couple of the boys together, have them begin inspecting the pasture, make sure none of the other horses or cattle have been hit,” Cade ordered him as he moved back to the stall door. “Could have been rustlers looking to wound her enough to catch her. Have them check for any breaks in the fence or anything unusual.”
As he moved through the stable, Cade stopped, checking the other horses carefully. Most were in for treatment for minor problems. Sprained foreleg, vaccinations. They had several dozen horses on the ranch, and at any time the stalls could be filled with animals. But this was the first time one had wandered in from a gunshot wound. Coyote or wolf attack, even bear, but never wounds like this.
“You wanna see the doc when he gets done?” Bret followed along behind him.
“Not unless there’s something I need to know,” Cade told him quietly. “Have him clean and dress it. I’ll call him tomorrow for details.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Bret nodded as Cade walked through the ranch yard, heading back to the house.
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Marly’s Choice
66
His frowned, thinking about the wound, the lack of sound that indicated trouble. There was no doubt about it, a gun shot would have echoed for miles, and had one been heard the cowboys working the pasture would have headed
out to inspect it.
The only way that wound could have been made was with a rifle, silencer attached. Rustlers didn’t usually possess such expensive weapons, nor did they bother with old horses. The young, well-trained ones were what they sought. It bothered him that it had been Marly’s horse that was hit, as well. Cade wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. Considering the circumstances behind Marly’s childhood, he was even more uneasy. His gut was roiling with warning, but he hadn’t heard from Annie, and she would have called if Jack had found her. Unless she had been unable to call. Cursing softly, he strode quickly into the house, and called Sam and Brock into the study. He didn’t know if it was warranted, but he would warn the boys; make sure an extra eye was kept on Marly. Because God above knew, he didn’t know if he could handle it if anything happened to her.
Lora Leigh
Marly’s Choice
67
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dillon Carlyle was as handsome as he ever was. His thick brown hair was longish, with just enough curl to make it wavy and his dark green eyes were still filled with laughter. Marly had never had a crush on the handsome rancher, though, even during her younger, more impressionable years. She remembered the aloof figure from gossip and brief glimpses in the small town of Glaston, but his image had never really impressed her.
He was standing in the entryway talking to Sam and keeping a careful eye on Cade’s glowering expression, when Marly descended the stairs. Dressed in jeans, a thick sweater and a leather jacket, she knew she looked more than ready for a ride on his new Harley. Not that she was looking forward to it, but anything to further the cause.
“Great, you’re ready.” Relief was thick in Dillon’s voice as he shifted beneath Cade’s regard once again. “It’s not too cool this evening, so you shouldn’t get cold.”
Marly smiled sweetly at him, glancing at Cade beneath her lashes. He was watching her silently, broodingly, as Sam fought to keep from smiling. Darkly handsome, his gray eyes probing and intense, he was the epitome of the strong, dangerous male. Damn, she wished he were easier to seduce.
“I shouldn’t be late, Cade.” She walked over to him, standing on her tiptoes to plant a slow, brief kiss on his jaw. He was warm and hard, and mad as hell. “But don’t wait up on me just in case.”
She turned just in time to see Sam wince.
“If you’d like to stay out a little later, I know a wonderful place over by the county line that looks out over the bluffs,” Dillon offered quietly as they headed for the door.
“You won’t see a prettier skyline there.”
“It sounds wonderful—“ Marly began.
“Dillon.” Cade’s voice stopped them at the entrance.
Marly took a deep breath as she and Dillon both turned back to face Cade.
“Yeah, Cade?” he asked warily.
Cade’s gaze flickered to Marly, hot and furious.
“Marly better come home in the same shape she’s left in. You understand me?”
There was a deadly, hard edge to Cade’s voice.
Marly watched tensely as Dillon’s eyes narrowed, his expression becoming blank as he watched Cade.
“She’ll return in whatever shape she wants to Cade,” he finally said softly. “She’s a woman, not a child for you to watch over.”
“Dillon—“
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Marly’s Choice
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“Cade, don’t you dare start this ‘he-man’ stuff.” Marly narrowed her eyes on him warningly. “I won’t tolerate it. At least try to be nice.”
“Oh, I am being nice, honey.” He smiled, all teeth. It was a frightening sight. “And I will be waiting up for you, Marly.”
“Damn, he acts more like your lover than your uncle.” Dillon chuckled, taking his life in his own hands. “Come on, Marly, before he sprouts horns and starts breathing fire.”
Dillon placed his hand in the small of Marly’s back and escorted her from the house. Marly could feel Cade’s gaze on her back, burning past Dillon’s hand into the flesh below. Singeing her flesh, making her skin itch. She was starting to wonder at the wisdom of pushing him like this. Maybe Brock had been right.
“Damn,” he muttered as the door closed behind him. “I’ll have to talk to Sam about combat pay.”
Marly muffled her laughter as he laid his hand at her back once again and led her to the huge motorcycle.
“How did he talk you into this anyway?” she asked him softly as he helped her onto the back of the machine.
“Don’t ask.” Dillon laughed, shaking his head. “It’s too strange, and it would likely get us both killed. Now stay still while I do this right. Sam was pretty specific about what to do before leaving.”
Marly smiled up at him, sitting still as he lifted the helmet and fitted it over her head, then adjusted and buckled the strap slowly. His fingers trailed over her cheek in a parody of affection. It was all Marly could do to keep from checking to see if Cade was watching from the front room window. Then Dillon was pulling his own helmet on and straddling the beast beneath them.
The motor revved, hummed, vibrating between Marly’s thighs as he lifted the kick stand and headed down the ranch road.
“Hang onto me.” His voice came through the small speakers at her ears. Leaning forward, Marly wrapped her arms around his waist, the added height at the back of the seat allowing her to prop her chin on his shoulder.
“Do you do this often?” She asked with a smile, glad that the small mic at her mouth made speaking possible.
“What? Take out the nieces of my friends to piss their adoptive uncle off?” He laughed, glancing back at her. “Naw, I gotta admit, this is a first for me. But the least of the sins added to my name.”
Marly laughed at this. She was well aware of the list of sins added to his name.
“So, wanna tell me the game, Marly-love?” he asked her with a thick thread of amusement. “I can be a hell of a team player if the rules are right.”
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Marly’s Choice
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* * * * *
Cade paced the floor. He growled when he spoke to anyone and drank too much liquor for his state of mind. He had drunk more whisky in the past few days than he had drank in the past few years. Marly was driving him crazy. How could she leave the house with that orgy-loving pervert? How could she even consider being with another man? Because he told her he couldn’t take her. Because his guilt was so deep that he refused her. If he didn’t have the guts to take what he wanted, then another man would do it for him. He growled harshly as he stood in the front door, his body tense, tight. Fury, complete and overwhelming surged through his body. She was his, and when she returned, he would show her she was his. He closed his eyes, imagining how tight her body would grip him, how hot and sweet she would be as the velvet walls of her vagina clenched and soaked him with her release. She would scream when he took her anally, beg for more, cry out with the pleasure of it. He fisted his hands, fighting the need to go after her now. He was going to make her pay for tonight. When he took her, she would scream in need, the sound echoing around the house until everyone around it knew who possessed her. He’d make her beg for release. He would show her who had the upper hand, and who would submit.
He walked out on the porch, his whisky glass in hand, and sat down on the porch steps. Night was crowding in, and she had been gone for several hours with the debauched playboy of Madison County. The self-proclaimed heartbreaker was late bringing her home too. They were most likely parked along the bluffs, Marly’s hair blowing in the wind as she sat on the back of that damned Harley, Dillon turning to her—
Cade took a deep, fortifying breath as he plowed the fingers of one hand through his hair. Then he sipped at the whisky and wanted to hit something. Someone. Preferably that darkly handsome bastard out with his Marly. He closed his eyes. She was making him crazy. He knew he was in trouble when he started drinking again. At this rate, he would get drunk before midnight. Hell, no he wouldn’t. If Marly wasn’t home in the next hour then he would collect his rifle and go hunting for her. And he would take Sam, just to show him how he dealt with the bastards who wanted to hurt Marly. Touch her. Take her.
Cade groaned. He had lost his mind.
“Hey, Cade.” Sam stepped out on the porch, watching him questioningly. “What are you doing out here?”