by Vanessa Vale
What my father had done… god. I felt sick thinking about it now. It had taken me years to realize normal fathers weren’t like him. That other kids’ dads were sober all the time and didn’t drink away the food budget. Their dad didn’t forget to pick them up from school because he was sleeping one off.
With Aunt Clara in California, I’d had a stable home. Food on the table. Hugs. Knew what it was supposed to be like, but it hadn’t been easy. She was a school teacher and her salary covered the basics but not much else. I’d worked in high school, too busy working to help pay the bills for dating or prom. I’d received some scholarship money for college, but I’d still had to work full-time as I went, meaning it took me six years to finish instead of four.
I stepped into the tub, slid the curtain closed, let the hot water wash away the sleep. There was no use thinking a shower would wash away the guilt. The embarrassment of what I’d done the night before was simply too great. No wonder Ava had recognized him when we’d gone to the bar. Landon Duke wasn’t Mr. Big, a stripper.
I scrubbed myself with soap using more vigor than needed.
Duke, a stripper. Ha!
He was a champion rodeo rider dubbed Sir Loin of Beef by the media not only because he was a gorgeous hunk of man-meat, but also because the Duke family ran the largest cattle ranch in northwest Montana. And because his last name was Duke and, like nobility, he was called Sir.
I knew all of this, yet I hadn’t followed him, hadn’t kept up with what he looked like. It had been too painful to even look at him—at any of them—online. I just knew they were out there, living their lives. Hating my father. Hating me. It had been painful enough to live with the guilt. I didn’t need to see them or their lives on social media.
I spun about, got my hair wet as I grabbed the shampoo. I’d been back in town six months and hadn’t seen him. I could avoid him for the rest of my life. It was doable. Work kept me busy enough. Like today, I’d meet with the contractor for an estimate on fixing the leaking roof, then I’d go to work where, unless he planned on checking into the hotel where I manned the registration desk, he wasn’t going to show up.
While Landon Duke and his friend had given me the best orgasms of my life, he hadn’t known who I was. Neither had. Hadn’t know I was Kaitlyn Leary any more than I’d realized he was a Duke. I could only imagine what he would think of me when he learned the truth. No, I knew. He’d hate me. I had no doubt. And since he and Jed were close enough to share a woman, he’d feel the exact same way.
7
DUKE
* * *
I pulled my truck up in front of the house, turned off the ignition. Glancing out the window, I took in the small Arts and Crafts two-story. When my assistant gave me the address of a potential new job—a remodel starting with a new roof—I’d noticed the street name. I knew Palmer Road, but hadn’t realized it was this house.
“Fuck,” I muttered. Wearily, I wiped my hand over my face, grabbed my clipboard from the passenger seat.
I’d barely slept, thinking of Kaitlyn. Of the way she’d been so responsive, so soft and perfect between me and Jed. It had been incredible watching her go from eager yet tentative to wild and passionate. Besides biting her lip to keep from crying out too loudly, she’d been uninhibited, giving herself to us completely. Beautifully.
And that had been in Jed’s office. I got hard, sitting in my fucking truck, thinking of how she’d have been if we’d gotten her somewhere a little more private. Like in my bed. Jed’s. Or hers. Whichever one had been the closest.
The scent of her pussy had clung to my fingers, hell, my whole hand, which had only made my balls ache to be deep inside of her, to have her beneath me. Eventually, having one of us in her pussy, the other in her ass so she was between us. Instead of that perfect fantasy, when I’d gotten home, I’d only had my hand to ease my need, blowing my load solo instead of in that snug channel. I knew how her wet heat squeezed and pulsed around my fingers, how tight she was. How hot and dripping with need she’d be surrounding my dick.
The connection—while she’d been a little skittish at first—had been real. The chemistry had been explosive and we’d only known her first name. Unlike her friend, Ava, we’d been into Kaitlyn from the start, from the first glimpse of her. I still was and I had no idea how to even find her. Jed and I had been fucking stumped as to why she’d bolted, what we’d done. How were we going to track her down because what we’d shared wasn’t enough? Not by a long shot. Jed had gone back to bartending and I’d gone home, nothing else to do at midnight to find her.
Kaitlyn, friend of Ava. That was all we knew about the woman of our dreams.
That and the weight of her lush tits. The feel of her slick pussy lips. The tight clench of her inner muscles as she came. The sounds she made when she did so. I shifted, willing my dick to go down, but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to until I found Kaitlyn and had her in my bed for a few hours. Days, even. And that wasn’t even counting the times I’d claim her with Jed. Or when she’d be alone with him and I’d hear her scream with pleasure from down the hall.
She’d been right there with us, eager for it. Eager for more. Then, like a switch had been flipped, freaked out. I wanted to see her again, to talk to her, find the fuck out why she bolted like a scared rabbit.
Kaitlyn. Nothing else. Julia would be so proud. Jed and I had found a woman we were interested in and we’d scared the shit out of her. Blown it, somehow. As for Tucker and Gus, if they found out how she’d gone cold after we’d gotten her off, they’d mess with us about how we’d lost it with the ladies.
Raines was small. We’d find her. If she was from Raines. The crowd that had come to the all-male revue had been big enough for several counties. Shit.
No. We’d fucking find her. And when we did… we weren’t letting her get away that easily again because we wanted more than just to use our fingers on her. We wanted our dicks deep in her, of course, but we wanted a date. Dinner and a movie. Learning more about her than how she pushed her glasses up when she was nervous and the sounds she made when she was about to come.
Shit, I didn’t need to meet a potential client with a hard on. I groaned, tried to think of castrating bulls to get my dick to go down. We’d find Kaitlyn and date the shit out of her. Until then, I had a business to run.
As I walked up the concrete path, I took in the house. The house that Don Leary had lived in when he was alive.
Don Leary. Fuck, that name brought up so much shit. Being told, fifteen years ago at football practice, about the accident. My parents in the hospital for a month. The trial. The sentencing. Knowing the bastard who’d derailed our lives would get out of prison after seven years.
It didn’t matter now. My parents were fine and Don Leary was dead. I couldn’t say I was heartbroken over it. He’d been a waste of a man. Drunk, lazy. Mean. Yeah, he’d done his time for the crime he’d committed, but that didn’t mean I would ever forgive him. The one thing we Duke kids learned from the whole fucking mess—one of many—was drinking and driving. While Jed might own a bar, he, nor any of us, drank. Ever.
Knowing Don Fucking Leary wasn’t going to answer the door had my grip loosening on the clipboard. It wasn’t the new owner’s fault what Leary had done. The job though, fixing up this house, was going to stir up old shit, shit I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with. I wasn’t hurting for cash—starting a business when I’d quit the rodeo circuit and moved back to Raines wasn’t because I needed to save for retirement. I had more money than I needed. But, if I sat on my ass all day, I’d go insane.
But if I worked on this house, I might just do that anyway. Lose my fucking mind. I couldn’t stand looking at this place, or dredging up old shit as I worked, even when I had contractors to help. It would be a lot of work because this place was practically falling down on itself.
I owed the owner the courtesy of at least telling him in person I wasn’t able to take on the work. Refer a different company to get the work done. Don Leary was t
he asshole, not me.
As I knocked on the door, I took notice of the rotting boards on the porch, the peeling paint, the sagging windows. If fixed up, the house would be really great. I knew for a fact Don Leary had had no money, and the way he’d taken care of his house proved that. Or, he’d drank it all away.
The door swung open with a rusty creak. And there she was. I grinned and everything felt right in the world.
“Kaitlyn. Fuck, are you okay? You scared the shit out of us last night.”
I stepped close and cupped her jaw, tilted her head up so she looked at me.
Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, mouth open.
I took the moment of surprise to lean down and kiss her.
Fuck, yes. Her soft scent swirled around us and she tasted like minty toothpaste and sweet Kaitlyn.
“Landon,” she murmured against my mouth.
“I know, angel.” I was lost in her. In this. My other head, the one pressing painfully against my jeans, took over.
“No, Landon, god,” she murmured as I kissed along her jaw. Her hands were on my chest, curled into my shirt, but I realized she was trying to push me back.
She’d said no. Instantly, I stepped back, looked down at her.
While her breathing was as ragged as mine and her lips were glistening and red from the kiss, all color had drained from her face. She stared at me, wide-eyed, from behind glasses. Not the look I was hoping for with her. “Landon. What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t resist touching her, feeling how soft her skin was, so I ran my knuckles down her cheek.
She flinched and I dropped my hand back to my side. Not the reaction I wanted.
“I own Compass Construction. You called for an estimate. Jesus, what’s the matter? What happened last night? Are you sick or something?”
I took in every detail of her, things I’d missed in the darkness the night before. Freckles. A tiny mole on her neck just beneath her ear. The whiskey color of her eyes. And her hair sure-as-fuck hadn’t been down and wild like it was now. It was long and I wanted to run the tips of my fingers through it, fist it.
She stepped back. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan to meet you. Really.”
I frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I didn’t know who you were.”
I relaxed a little, relieved. “That’s good, angel. I’d rather not be known as the rodeo champion. The stupid nickname Sir Loin of Beef. I want to strangle those stupid papers who’d come up with it. That’s not me anymore. I can just be Duke to you, or Landon.”
She shook her head, her dark hair sliding over her shoulders. This morning, she wore jeans that showed off her thick curves, but her shirt was a knit top in pink. The color looked good on her and the cut, well, it framed her full breasts really well. She had a name tag pinned to it with her first name and Raines library above. Fuck, she really was a librarian. I itched to lift my hand and cup her plump tit again, feel the weight of it. Get her eyes to go all blurry behind her glasses.
Hell, at least get some color back in her cheeks and get rid of the miserable look on her face.
Slowly, she shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“If this is about the fact that you thought I was a stripper, I told you, I’m flattered.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then let me come in and tell me over coffee. Hell, I’d be happy to strip down and finish what we started. I want nothing more than to watch you come again. This time, I want my mouth on that pussy. I bet it’s as sweet as can be.”
Bright spots of color blossomed on her cheeks, and I loved seeing how I could rile her up. That she had an innocence to her.
She lifted her hand, put it on my chest. “No.”
I took a deep breath, let it out. It was best to change topics so I didn’t scare her off any more than I already had. “How am I going to give you a quote for work if I don’t see the house?”
Sighing, she pushed her glasses up. Yup, nervous.
“I can’t afford much, but roof work is first. Not the whole thing though. Only the section over the family room is leaking and needs to be redone right away. I wanted a quote for just that. I’ll do other stuff when I have the funds.”
“You’re upset because you’re on a budget?”
Her eyes flared and she rolled her shoulders back, tipped up her chin. “No. I’m used to being on a budget. Living frugally.”
I sighed. “Angel, tell me what it is. I admit, we took things a little fast last night, maybe skipped the get-to-know-you stage, but we can change that. Tonight. Dinner. I’ll tell Jed and we’ll pick you up at six. We’ll be perfect gentlemen.” I held my fingers up in a Boy Scout salute.
“I have to work.”
“Okay, tomorrow.”
“I have to work.”
I was starting to get a little frustrated. She had to give me something. Toss me a bone, at least. Rejection was one thing, and she could have told us she wasn’t interested at any time the night before. But she hadn’t. She’d been into it. And by the kiss we’d just shared, she was still into me. I knew it. I’d seen it. Felt it. Until something made her stop. Again.
“Every day?” I asked.
“Yes, I work every day.”
I glanced down at her nametag. Kaitlyn, the librarian. And that was hot as hell. I hadn’t been to the town library since I was in eleventh grade and had to write a book report on Hamlet. It seemed I’d been missing out. I wanted to strip off that prim exterior and get to the soft, wet places. “The library’s not open every day.”
“I have a second job.” She sighed, flicked her gaze up to mine. “It’s not just that.”
“Then what? I’ll apologize for both me and Jed if we were too forward, not gentlemanly enough, but you were right there with us.” I licked my lips, getting more of her taste. “Still are.”
She laughed, but she didn’t sound amused. Closing her eyes, she took a breath, then another. “You’re going to hate me.”
I stilled, glanced down at her left hand, but didn’t see a ring. “Are you married?” We didn’t fool around with a claimed woman. Never had, never would.
Behind her glasses, her eyes widened. “What? No, I’m not married. Worse.” She bit her lip. “Well, you’ll think it’s worse.”
What the fuck was worse than fingering a married woman?
“No way. There’s no chance I could—”
“I’m Kaitlyn Leary.”
That cut off my words. My breath. Stilled my heart. I stared at her, then stared some more, trying to remember her from fifteen years earlier. She was Kaitlyn Leary.
“Holy fuck,” I muttered. My hands clenched into fists and everything I felt from that time surged right back to the surface. This was Don Leary’s daughter.
“You’re right, I hate you.” The words were easy and they slipped from my lips because right then, all I felt was hatred.
She flinched, as if I’d hit her with my fists instead of my words. I might be losing my shit, but I’d never raise my hand to a woman.
“I understand,” she replied, her voice calm, as if she were resigned. “Last night, I didn’t mean to… I wouldn’t have… if I’d known.”
“Your drunk father hit my parents and drove off, leaving them to suffer.”
She lifted her chin, met my eyes. Held. “I know.”
“He spent seven years in jail. Just seven. Then he got out and got to live his life again with my parents across town.”
“I know.”
“He was a drunk,” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “An asshole. Scum.”
She took a deep breath but didn’t shift her eyes from mine. “I know.”
“Do you have any idea what he did to my family? What he did to me?” When I got pissed, my voice went all quiet. Full of steel. “It was a week before my seventeenth birthday.”
“I know,” she said, again. “I knew your parents had recovered. I saw them at the trial. My aunt had k
ept me up to date on how they were doing. I’m so glad they’re better.”
“Like you give a shit.” I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth as I stepped back, heard the porch creak under my feet, pointed at her. “Stay the fuck away from Cassidy’s. The fuck away from my family. From me.”
“I understand. I’m sorry.” She nodded, looked down at the scuffed wood floor just inside the entry, then stepped back and closed the door.
Jesus. Could I pick ‘em. I walked back to the truck, kicking a loose bit of concrete from the walkway and sent it flying into the patchy grass. The only woman I’d been into in years and she was fucking Don Leary’s daughter.
8
KAITLYN
* * *
I made it through my shift at the library trying not to think of Landon and our confrontation. It had gone as I’d expected. Well, not really. I hadn’t expected him to show up on my doorstep. God, had that been a surprise. I hadn’t expected him to kiss me. I hadn’t expected it to be so hard to push him away. But I had and after what he’d said, I was glad for it.
Oh, I’d wanted to sink into it, into his arms, into the protective nature he’d shown when I’d first opened the door. He’d been worried about me, thinking I’d been sick even. He’d wanted me. He’d wanted… more with me and with a crazy desperation that made my heart ache even more. But that had been before. Before the truth. Before he knew it was all my fault his parents had been hurt so badly, that the Duke family had been almost destroyed. And that made the rest of it even worse.
