Authors: Natalie Acres
Tags: #Romance
At the same time, he saw Kelly. “Wait! Damn it! No!”
Taking off at a running jump, she darted down the hallway. Footsteps resounded as Colt and Brand tried to stop her. Bolting through the air, she took a sudden leap and grabbed the door to the clock cabinet, swinging it wide and tossing guns to the fellows as if she’d been working combat in war zones for most of her life.
“Stay down, Kelly,” Crue grated out, squatting beside her once he followed her to the kitchen.
“Crue, I’ve got this,” she said, standing up and firing multiple shots at an intruder.
Pursing his lips, he stood next, taking three shots and then pivoting to his left, where he took four more.
“How many?” Colt screamed out, somewhere in the darkness.
“Now how the fuck would I know?” Crue asked, reloading.
Shadows moved down the halls and Crue held his breath. He slid a protective arm around Kelly’s waist, holding her back. “It’s Colt. Be certain of your target!” The little vixen was trigger-happy. She was ready to blow his dear brother to kingdom come and not in a way he might enjoy.
“I wasn’t going to shoot,” she grated out.
“Wait here,” Crue demanded, peering around the chopping block.
A man dressed in a priest’s robe stalked him. “Father, what’s this all about?”
His gun was drawn. “Crue, let us have Kelly. It’s an eye for an eye in this business. You know how it works. She can’t live here. She can’t continue her life as if nothing happened. Her father cheated a lot of men out of their family fortunes. Someone has to pay.”
Crue felt a stabbing sensation in his chest. He had feared this kind of retaliation, dreaded the day when his worst nightmares might be realized. “What do you say we just settle this another day and in another way, Father? Colt and I can cut you a check. No one else has to die.”
“Can’t do it, boy. That’s not how things work in the desert. Sure as hell isn’t how things work over the hill in Death Valley.”
“I’ve never met a cursing priest,” Crue said, watching his peripheral. He had values and morals. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot a man of God, if in fact Father Paul had the big man’s blessings.
Father Paul sneered. “I doubt you’ve ever stepped a sorry foot in a church, boy. Now, hand over the girl.”
“‘Hand over the girl,’” Crue drawled. “Where have I heard similar demands? Hmm…mob movies, live abductions at Daniel’s place…” He deliberately let his voice trail. “You want the girl, Father Paul?” Raising his weapon and spreading his legs in a wide stance, he dared him. “Come and get her.”
Father Paul lifted his rifle and Colt stepped out of the shadows. “Drop it, man. My brother has shown you a tad of respect because he’s apparently under the misguided impression that you mean us no harm. Considering the way you entered our home, I’m not following his same train of thought.”
“Fifty million dollars was a drop in the bucket to what Daniel owed this town. Do you hear me! A drop in the bucket! You think I’ll be the last one to pay you a visit? Do you?”
Crue cocked his gun. The man had a point. He wasn’t the last, but technically he wasn’t the first, either. Before he squeezed the trigger, a pop resounded and Father Paul fell to the ground. Kelly rushed to the man’s side. Standing over him with the smoking gun, she said, “If you want to walk out of here alive, I suggest you shut up and listen. I’m not responsible for my father’s debts, but I will be forced to pay them. That I understand. However, I won’t be paying up with interest and some change, I’ll pay the old-fashioned way, a bullet here and a bullet there. That’s how we settle old scores on the outskirts of Death Valley. Look around, Father Paul. You aren’t in Vegas anymore.”
Kelly awoke the next day to a full bed and the high noon sun. Sandwiched between Crue and Kemper, Kelly smiled at Colt, who was standing over the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist and a silly little grin on his face.
“Good morning,” she said, crooking her finger back and forth.
“I feel like I’ve waited fifty years to watch you while you’re sleeping in my bed.”
“Technically, she isn’t in your bed at the moment.” Crue lifted his left arm overhead. Opening and closing his hand, he stretched one side of his body while using his free arm to draw Kelly closer.
“He’s right,” Brand said, reaching over Crue’s head and stroking Kelly’s forehead. “She’s in our bed.”
“I can fix that,” Colt said, dropping the towel to the floor. His cock sprang to life and Kelly moistened her lips.
“Uh-oh,” Kemper teased. “Here we go.”
Kelly made her way to the edge of the bed, keeping Colt’s cock in her sights as she moved. As soon as her fingers met his flesh, several phones vibrated on the bedside table. The operatives quickly came alive, forcing aside their sexual urges to answer the call to duty.
Colt was the first one on the line. “Talk to me.”
Kelly could hear Brock Donovan’s elevated voice. Kelly glanced around the room. Where the hell had she left her purse the night before?
“Hang on, Brock. Just a minute. We’re all here. The guys have picked up, but Kelly’s here, too. No problem. We’ll put you on speakerphone.” He shook his head and held out the small device.
“Well good morning, Miss Martin. I take it you slept well enough last night?”
“Hi, Brock, yes, after our company left us, we were able to sleep just fine.” She eyed Colt’s cock and ran her tongue around her mouth, arching a brow. “Thanks for asking.”
“All right, let’s get one thing straight, Miss Martin,” Brock said, his tone gruff. “You belong to me more than you belong to the men who apparently shared your bed last night. You are owned by the US-West Underground Unit and you are always on my time.”
“Okay?”
“What that means, Miss Martin, is this.” Brock took a deep breath. “Three hundred days out of the year, you have a direct line to my phone and your fellow operatives. When it rings rather than buzzes, it means you are expected to answer. I don’t care if you’re on the shitter. I don’t care if you’re in the shower. I do not give a damn if you are having the best orgasm of your life, when the phone rings, you answer. Your bedfellows obviously took the time. Why didn’t you?”
She narrowed her gaze on Colt, who committed downright treason when he smirked. He obviously liked the fact that she’d been reprimanded.
“I’m not sure where my phone is.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ll find it,” she assured him. “Hang on.” Deserting the bed in a rush, she left a roomful of whistles in her wake.
Brock cursed again, and as she teetered down the hallway to the foyer, she heard him say, “Not a word about business until we’re assured her phone is somewhere on her person.”
“Brock, trust me on this,” Crue said. “Her phone is
not
on her person.”
“Figuratively speaking,” Brock said.
“Mistakenly spoken,” someone said in the background. She was pretty sure the voice was Riley’s.
Rummaging through rubble, she located her purse on the credenza. Retrieving her phone, she flipped open the case and asked, “How’s Veronica doing, Brock?”
He grunted. “Fine. I spoke to—” He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence. “This isn’t a social call, Miss Martin.”
She grinned as she reentered the bedroom. Social or not, even Brock Donovan and one of his moods couldn’t spoil her midday plans.
“We ran a check on your uninvited guests last night,” Brock said. “Father Paul—the real Father Paul—is in Italy right now, visiting distant relatives. I spoke to him this morning. He will be in touch when he returns to Nevada, but he wanted me to assure you he didn’t have anything to do with this. We verified his story. It checks out.”
“Gomez Gustavo Esparza’s family still has a lot of connections in Sicily. Are you sure this isn’t a connection we need to explore?” Gabe asked, throwing a pillow behind his head and relaxing against the headboard. “Will we meet any more of Esparza’s nephews in the near future?”
He crossed his ankles and Kelly couldn’t help but lick her lips. Either he had a hard-on for business, or he awoke with good loving on his mind. As if he read her thoughts, Gabe winked and a shiver shot straight down her spine.
“The late Gomez Gustavo Esparza and his successors are not your problem now. Sloane and his team are taking care of the matter.”
“His successors were our problem last night,” Kemper said, sitting on the side of the bed. Opening the nightstand, he retrieved a dildo and motioned for Kelly.
She shook her head and stood next to Colt. A flash of dominance settled in his eyes and he motioned for her again.
Brock continued talking, stopping midsentence when Kemper slapped the dildo against his palms and pointed to Kelly once more.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“We’re listening,” Kemper assured him, crooking his finger back and forth.
“Good to know, Kemper, because I could’ve sworn I heard the familiar sound of a dildo slapping against flesh. You have plenty of time to play with your woman when I’m done with her and, Kelly, you’d be strongly advised to pay attention to me and ignore the rest of the team until I’m through with you.”
“Yes, Sir,” she drawled, tiptoeing to the bed, an act of defiance she couldn’t resist. Kemper, after all, held a pleasurable alternative to focusing on the details surrounding the previous night. Besides, Brock Donovan had once been notorious for mixing business with pleasure. And if rumors were true, Sydney Kane could probably attest to that.
Standing in front of Kemper, she placed her hand upon his shoulder. He kissed her stomach as Brock continued explaining why the Underground Unit authority had decided to let Sloane and his team work on the Esparza organization. They had the intelligence needed to explore the possible connections between the States and Italy.
Kemper clutched her side and mouthed, “Spread your legs.”
“You still need to be on high alert,” Brock said. “All of you.”
“We are,” Kemper said, staring at her pussy.
“After last night, we know better than to let our guard down,” Crue said, stroking himself as he watched Kemper ease the dildo between her moist folds.
Kelly held on to Kemper’s muscular arm as he guided the toy in and out of her cunt, acting as if he were trying his best to avoid a possible noise, evidence of the playtime in motion.
“We have a few days off coming to us,” Colt said, taking a seat on the bed and dragging Kelly away from Kemper. Spreading his legs, he motioned for her to take a position in front of him.
Her mouth watered. She knelt in front of him and mouthed, “Get rid of him.”
“Trying,” Colt mouthed in return.
“Take your days off. You have five. You’ll need them to clean up the mess from last night. From what the local boys told us, you’re lucky to be alive. Eighteen bodies left in bags?”
“We didn’t count,” Kemper said, grabbing some lube from the nightstand.
Kelly gripped Colt’s cock and nuzzled his length with her cheek. The dildo locked inside her made her well aware of the coming events. How the hell did the rest of them focus on business when there were better ways to spend the rest of the day?
“Did Kelly make a believer out of you last night?” Brock asked.
Kelly eased her lips around Colt’s cock. She drew him into the depths of her mouth, her tongue whipping around his size.
“Oh yeah!” Colt exclaimed, quickly covering his outburst by adding, “She’s good at that.”
Silence on the other end of the phone left smirks around the room. Kemper stopped his pursuit of them and Kelly paused. She pulsed around Colt’s length, until he gripped her hair and pulled her back. Staring deep into her eyes, he firmly shook his head. “Wait,” he mouthed.
“Not a chance,” she mouthed back, rubbing her fingers up and down his shaft.
“Brock, we’ll get back with you later today. We need to call for an estimate on replacement windows. Hopefully, we can have someone come out to take care of repairs tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you do that. Call me back.” Brock snorted. “After you get an estimate on replacements, that is.”
The phone line went dead. Sighs of relief filled the room. Then the sweet sound of laughter resounded.
“You’re in trouble,” Colt said, still gripping a handful of hair.
“I hope so,” she said, circling the head of his penis with a giving tongue.
Kemper stood behind her. Lifting her hips, he said, “Now that’s one fine-looking ass.”
“If you so much as slap her bottom, you’ll wear that paddle you used yesterday and that’s a promise,” Crue said.
Kemper caressed her cheeks and she arched her back. He stroked the crease between her globes and she shivered as her arousal heightened.
“After yesterday, I figured you’d make us wait weeks, if not months, before you’d invite another guest through the back door,” Kemper said, rubbing his palm over her bottom.
Rocking on her knees, she squeezed the dildo between her legs and kissed Colt’s cock, turning her head to focus on those sprawled across the bed. “I had this fantasy…”
“Do tell,” Gabe said, spreading his legs wide.
Her breath caught in her chest as he wrapped his cock with his hand, pumping his length nice and slow. “I didn’t want toys or bondage.”
“You can remove the dildo, Miss Submissive,” Kemper whispered at her ear.
Reaching between her legs, she gripped the end of the novelty item and slowly withdrew the damp object. Before the toy left her body, Kemper covered her hand with his and began fucking her with the thick shaft.
Leaning over her, he pressed his chest against her back and rasped, “Give Colt head while I fuck you.”
“Damn you, Kemper,” Crue said, stuffing his hands behind his head. “You know if you tried fucking her pussy you might find you like it a little better than taking her from behind all the time.”
He nipped at her ear. “Tell them why I fuck your ass all the time, Miss Submissive.”
She lifted her head, but kept her eyes downcast, an act of subservience. Crue would likely appreciate the gesture although the other Dominant in the room stood behind her and couldn’t see her expression. “I enjoy Sir Kemper fucking my ass. It’s what makes me whole. He makes me feel completely possessed.”