Sexual Expression [Contemporary Cowboys 2] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge)

by Natalie Acres

Kurt smiled. “Is that so bad?”

  Brandon frowned. “Right now? It’s one of the worst things you could do. We can’t afford to dream that dream, Kurt. Regardless of what Coco has you believing now, you put that out of your head and do it quickly. With murder brought to our door, we don’t have a right to fantasize about white-picket fences, women pregnant with our babies, and toys to kick out of our way in the yard. We have some scores to settle.”

  Kurt pushed away from his hay bale. “And that right there? Your need to get even? It will guarantee us one thing—someone else will later have a score to settle with us. I’m out, boys. I’m out because I want a future. I deserve that option. You do, too.”

  “He’s right,” Liam said. “If we go after revenge, what will that bring us in the end? Retribution doesn’t sleep and neither do the men who have their day of reckoning.”

  Chapter Six

  “I know you’re one of ’em but don’t know which one. Come on in.” Gemma toddled off in the other direction after she’d more or less shoved the door open. “I knew one of Brandon’s brothers stopped by earlier. Was it you?”

  “I’m Kurt.”

  “So you’re the one who started this whole mess?”

  “I can understand where you might see it that way. Is Coco here?” At eleven o’clock at night, he was hoping for a yes.

  “Nope, Kurt. She isn’t.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Yes, Kurt. As a matter of fact I am. Would you like a drink? Coco should be back shortly.”

  “Is it all right if I wait with you?”

  “Absolutely, Kurt. This way.” She staggered along the hallway and stumbled into the kitchen where a bottle of whiskey and a couple of empty shot glasses were already on the table.

  “Was Coco drinking before she left?”

  “Coco? No. She wouldn’t drink. In her mood? She would’ve been a crying drunk.”

  “I see.”

  “Kurt, you sure are cute. Too bad my sister banged you.” Gemma fumbled with the bottle and finally poured herself another drink. “Unlike you and your brothers, the Baldini gals have a rule. We do not fuck with another Baldini sister’s fella.” She arched her brows at him and fell against her chair. “Yes, Kurt. It’s a damned shame. I like a good fuck and she said you were one hell of a damn good fuck.” She lifted her glass. “Cheers.”

  Uncomfortable with where this conversation was going, Kurt ignored the passing compliment even though it stroked his ego. Instead, he asked, “Did you say she’d be back tonight or—”

  “In a while, Kurt.”

  “Do you know where she went?”

  “I do.” Gemma smiled, lifted her glass, missed her mouth and sloppily wiped the liquor off her chin. “But I’m not telling you.”

  “I see.” He had a feeling this could be a long night. “Um, is there a reason you’re drinking alone, Gemma?”

  “Absolutely, Kurt. I hate men.” She seemed to magically sober up long enough to clearly state her reason for consumption.

  “I’m beginning to think half the female population may share your sentiments.” Kurt scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out where Coco might have gone.

  “Would you like to know why I hate your type?”

  “What is my type exactly?”

  “Cowboys, Kurt. Rough and tough, bad-to-the-bone, I don’t take no crap from no damn woman kind of type, Kurt.”

  “I see.” He could understand where she might feel that way. From what Coco had told him in the past, Gemma was mixed up with the McDowell boys. They were anything but kind and sweet. They weren’t exactly the one-woman-one-man kind of guys either.

  Not that he was in a position to judge.

  “Kurt, let me ask you something.”

  “Sure, Gemma. Go ahead.”

  “Do you and Brandon bang Coco at the same time?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I didn’t slur my words, Kurt.” Gemma leaned forward. “I’ll tell you a little secret. We’ll keep it between me and you.” She paused and he didn’t say anything. “Brianna fucks three men. She likes it. Says it’s the best kind of sex there is. Well, Coco acts like it is the most disgusting thing she’s ever heard tale of and well, we should know how that goes. Our cousins over the mountain?” She threw her head back and laughed. “Why…I couldn’t tell you how many men are in some of my cousins’ beds. A bunch I’d imagine.”

  “You don’t say,” Kurt said, narrowing his gaze on an empty shot glass and tempted to drink with Gemma. He might learn a new thing or two.

  “I’m telling you the truth, Kurt. That’s like tonight. When Coco said she was going to Paddles and Picnics, I said, ‘Now, Coco. Why do you want to go and get involved in that scene? Isn’t it enough for ya that you’ve already had a man who was a Dom? Isn’t it enough that Brandon and his cotton-pickin’ brothers went and kicked you out on your ass?”

  “She wasn’t kicked out,” Kurt said, rising from his chair in a hurry. “And she has no business at Paddles and Picnics.”

  “That’s what I told her, Kurt. Believe me. After what happened to Brianna up there? I wouldn’t step foot back in the place unless three or four big fellas went with me.” She grunted and her eyes skimmed over him as if she were trying to sum up how capable he might be in a real bar brawl. “Too bad for me. I once knew a few who could hold their own in a fight, especially if they were fightin’ for a woman. God rest their souls.”

  He swallowed. “Gemma, what do you mean by ‘God rest their souls’ exactly? Did something happen to the McDowell brothers?”

  “Not yet,” she slurred. “But give ’em time. Before long, they’ll be in some hooker’s bed and I’ll shoot ’em dead just for paying a whore when I would’ve played for free!”

  “I see,” he said, backing away carefully. The last thing he wanted was a drunk woman shooting him in the ass because she’d mistaken him for one of her long lost lovers.

  “And where are you off to exactly?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to take away your whiskey,” Kurt said. “But keep a few extra glasses on the table. I have a feeling you’ll need them.”

  She lifted her glass, made a toast to his farewell, and he was on his way.

  Kurt quickly placed a call to the McDowells. He and Chad McDowell were business associates and he felt obligated to let him know his woman was home alone and drunk as a skunk.

  He then called Zak. “I need you to meet me at the market next to the mountain.”

  “Why?”

  “Just meet me there. We need to take a ride. And come alone. I don’t want the whole clan going with us.”

  “Is a dress code required?”

  “Meet me in fifteen.” Kurt disconnected the call. The little fucker already knew where they were heading. Zak and Coco were as thick as thieves so he’d probably called that one right out of the gate.

  Come to think of it, why hadn’t Kurt thought about Paddles and Picnics? He clutched the steering wheel tighter. Then again, why would he have thought about Paddles and Picnics?

  He’d never even been in the joint.

  * * * *

  Paddles and Picnics was anything but a seedy joint. Zak noted the expression on Kurt’s face. He clearly wasn’t expecting this.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around,” Zak yelled over the crowd.

  Zak pushed his way through the throng of people and watched for signs of Coco. They made their way to the back of the club and stood outside the “His” and “Hers” restrooms which was located right next to the “Slaves” restroom which was a couples-only arrangement.

  “What do you think?” Zak asked, tilting his head at the upper circular platforms where Doms and subs were performing for their audiences while enjoying their play sessions.

  “This is something else,” Kurt said, fixated on one particular act where the Dom’s slave was leashed and then handed off to another Dom as he joined them on their elevated platform.

  “Yeah, this place is some
thing else all right,” Zak said, smiling when a club patron scooted by him, making a point to rub her full rack against him so he’d take notice of her fetish outfit, a hot little leather number with an open bodice in the front and back.

  “Can you believe people come out in public like this?” Kurt asked, his voice way too loud since he’d chosen to speak when the DJ killed the current music selection.

  Zak studied another little pixie with a cute haircut, curvy body and smokin’ hot ass. “Now you know why I’m still single.”

  “Not me,” Kurt said, scanning the crowd. “My heart already belongs to one woman. I’m sunk, man.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Zak said, slapping him on the back. “And I’m worried about you, too. You and Liam.”

  “Liam?”

  “You haven’t noticed? Dude would lay down and die for Coco without anyone asking. Bad, man. He has it real bad.” Zak threw his arm across Kurt’s chest and pointed at the far wall, spotting Liam. “Speak of the devil.”

  Liam was standing on the other side of the bar. By his stance and the lust-ridden look on his face, he was almost unrecognizable. Zak followed his brother’s eyes, finding the source of his unusual expression. “Bingo.” He nodded to the glass encased dance floor. “And there, my friend, is the source of your demise and the reason Liam beat us here.”

  As if entranced, Kurt gravitated to the dance floor. Around the enclosure, there were stadium seats and he wasted no time in finding one. Liam immediately spotted Kurt and joined him.

  Zak stood back and folded his arms, ready to watch, assuming another brother would soon emerge. Brandon might have believed he could love Coco and let her go, but Zak knew better. He needed her. In his own way, Brandon loved her.

  “Hiya, handsome. Can I get you a drink?” A bubbly cocktail waitress awaited his reply and he couldn’t be sure he supplied one. Because at that moment, at that precise second, a woman Zak had never seen flew through the air in a suspension bondage stunt that not only left him breathless, but left him desperate to find out her name. One way or another, he had a feeling that woman’s name would soon be on his lips.

  If they were both lucky, it would happen tonight.

  Chapter Seven

  Air’s “Talisman” resounded and most of the subs dancing on display exited the enclosure. Coco and another submissive remained on the floor. Coco realized most eyes were on Drina by then. With her sleek catlike leather outfit clinging to her every curve, she was suspended to the floor, arched her back, flipped over and worked her body around the ropes. By then she surely must’ve been every available Dom’s dream.

  Her dark brown hair tumbled in layers in front of her face as she was slowly lowered to the floor at the end of the song. “Talisman” faded out and Cowboy Junkies’ “Misguided Angel” filled the speakers. Obviously aware of the eyes trained on her, Drina took full advantage of the moment and worked her body into an undulating movement, sultry and catlike as she approached the rectangular wall.

  Coco had always loved dancing in the designated “sub space” which gave new meaning to the term. The viewing audience could see everything inside the illuminated room, but those inside couldn’t see the spectators thanks in part to the special glass housing the small entertainment room.

  Lost in the lyrics of “Misguided Angel,” Coco thought of Brandon and her heart shattered. It took all the will she had to keep from crying. She wondered if the lyricist perhaps had a man like Brandon in mind when he or she wrote the song.

  She threw her head back and let the music have her, dancing away the night and the pain as her fingers splayed across a neck now bare, a neck no longer sporting a dominant man’s collar, his unique brand. She swallowed back the outright cries, aware of Drina nearby, dancing as if she were weightless, as beautiful as a ballerina as she flowed one way or another, practically cradling herself as the song released an embracing power.

  Coco and Drina remained in their space, never pausing, never slowing down unless the music required it. The beats ranged in tempo. They spent the last of their time in the sub space dancing to Rihanna’s “Diamonds” and finally Coco’s new favorite, “Unfaithful.”

  The lyrics to “Unfaithful” washed over her like a thunderous rain, pounding at her heart and soul, beating down on her with truth and accusation, mesmerizing honesty.

  She had been unfaithful.

  Perhaps she had known she would be from the moment she and Brandon were first together. She’d always felt a special connection to Kurt. She recognized a similar bond with Liam, but Liam was Kurt’s exact opposite. He was kind and soft, handsome but seemingly unaware of the fact. Kurt knew he was hot and worked that sexy swagger like any woman watching him was real fortunate to view the whole package.

  But Kurt hadn’t acted cocky with her. He’d been gentle. She closed her eyes and remembered, allowed that lust to take hold again as she grabbed on to her last few minutes in sub space, realizing their time would soon end with the private show schedule, but longing for just another few minutes to reevaluate her day.

  Drina’s gaze met her own and she smiled that little knowing smile. On the way to the club earlier that night, she’d shared with Drina her innermost feelings. She’d explained her heartache, her grief, and ultimately the longing that had placed her in Kurt’s arms, the arms that had wrapped around her in a loving hold, a comforting embrace.

  She had needed him. She still needed him. And she wanted him even more than she had before. Trying to figure out why her feelings were all over the charts, Coco paid attention to the crowd beyond the electric door. Those in the audience were on their feet, giving their last dance a standing ovation. The DJ’s voice resonated throughout the club, “Give it up for the dancers tonight in sub space!”

  It was a thunderous applause, one that left goose bumps up and down her arms. As they often would, bouncers escorted the subs out the back and down the hall to the ladies’ room. The normal practice allowed the club employees time to regain control of the crowd, redirect their attention to another show and by the time the subs emerged again, they were just part of the audience instead of a local superstar, which was how some of the subs were treated if they’d cranked up the right Doms and garnered more attention than the others.

  “Oh my God!” Drina twirled around the dressing area of the restroom. “I feel exhilarated!”

  “I told you,” Coco said, refusing to rain on Drina’s parade by telling her how fucked up in the head she felt. Instead, she focused on the positives. “There’s nothing like it. Knowing you can keep your personal space and enjoy the music without interference is like nothing I’ve experienced before. It’s like you know you’re dancing for other people, too, but it doesn’t matter. You can let the lyrics and song have every inch of yourself. You described it best. It’s exhilarating. I knew you’d enjoy it.”

  “How can I become a member?”

  “I really don’t know much about the club’s policies. In case you didn’t notice, we weren’t exactly questioned at the door. I’m recognized here as Brandon’s sub. Dance night is the only time when subs can enter without their Doms.”

  Drina acted like it took her a minute to process the idea of Coco calling herself anyone’s submissive, and then she said, “You mentioned Brandon has a room here?”

  “A suite,” Coco said, the knots in her chest returning. She and Brandon had enjoyed some great times at Paddles and Picnics, and most of the more fantastic moments occurred in Brandon’s private suite.

  “I think I saw Kurt when we left the dance floor.”

  Coco considered the possibility and ruled out Kurt patronizing a place like Paddles and Picnics. “If Kurt were here, he’d be in the adjoining pool hall. He wouldn’t be back here. He’s not a fetish club kind of guy if you know what I mean.”

  “Guy missed a hell of a chance then,” Drina said, waggling her brows. “Excuse me for sayin’ so but he screams fantastic bed partner, Coco. He’s like Mr. Great Sex and Brandon is just the Mr. Wannabe Great Se
x.”

  Coco laughed and hugged her. “You and your comparisons. You always know what to say to cheer me up.”

  “I call it as I see it, hon. The man is what—two hundred and thirty pounds of stone hard muscle and a rockin’ cock that won’t quit? That last part is your verbatim phrase, not mine.” She winked. “I took notes.”

  “Apparently so!” Coco was glad Drina talked her into a night out.

  “Okay, let’s mingle, big sis. Regardless of what you say, I’m pretty sure Mr. Kurt Blazier is out there in the crowd. And I want to find him.”

  “Planning on hitting up my man?”

  “Your man, is it?” Drina faked a surprised look and stood in front of the mirror fluffing her hair. “Actually, no. I want to find your Mr. Right so he can introduce me to mine. The cowboy he’s with is one hundred and twenty-five percent all mine tonight if he gives me another one of those ‘come hither, kitten’ looks.”

  “Wait a minute? What cowboy and what kind of look?”

  “You didn’t see him?”

  “How do you know he’s a cowboy? Hats aren’t allowed.”

  “Yeah, but apparently boots aren’t off-limits. He’s draped in leather pants and cowboy boots for the love of God.”

  “Zak.”

  “Who?”

  “Zak, another one of Brandon’s brothers.”

  “How many brothers does he have again?”

  “That’s not important,” Coco said, unwilling to think about their large family now for fear she would then think of the brothers the Blazier family had recently lost. Oddly enough she’d sort of thought Zak and Drina might make a good pair, but something had always stopped her from matchmaking with her sisters and Brandon’s brothers.

  Maybe it was because she didn’t want her sisters to see how she behaved at the Blazier farm. Was that it? She couldn’t help but wonder. And she couldn’t help but think if the way she acted in one area of her life should be a direct warning if she didn’t want others to know.

  “Come on,” Drina said, dragging her to the door and away from her thoughts. “You’re slipping away from me again. At the moment, I need you to focus. I want to meet this Zak, if he is in fact Brandon’s brother. If not, don’t worry about introductions. Something tells me we’ll drift one another’s way.”