He unlocked the door and headed inside. Pots banged and a tantalizing smell of cooking potatoes permeated the air. It sounded like Chelsea was singing in the kitchen. He listened for a moment to her rich voice, and his cock hardened. That was not good. He didn’t need the cheerful woman to distract him tonight, especially tonight. His steely exterior was close to breaking as it was.
Given she appeared occupied, he thought he’d sneak in a shower before she noticed he’d come home and slip out again with her none the wiser. His fingers were almost frozen and his feet were stiff, not to mention his back ached from all the shoveling. A shower was a must.
With the heat set to high, the air steamed a few minutes later, and he inhaled the soothing mist. Once under the driving showerhead, the heated water soothed his body so much, he debated staying there all night, letting the massaging liquid calm both his physical and mental aches. That idea was cut short when his stomach reminded him he needed fuel.
Wait a minute. Shouldn’t Chelsea be downstairs cooking? Yes, she was recuperating, but he overheard her tell Luke last night she was capable of handling her shift. Maybe the softhearted cook had been able to convince her to take another day off. Marge, his wife, had worked the dinner shift before Chelsea came on board.
He turned off the water, towel dried, and stepped into the bedroom to get dressed in warm attire. Before he reached the closet, the bedroom door clicked open, and Chelsea barreled in.
Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. “Oh, my.”
Chapter Six
Every muscle in Chelsea’s body froze, all except her pussy that seemed to be convulsing with carnal need. She could tell when Preston wore a T-shirt that he was muscular, but she’d never seen his bare chest, sprinkled with dark hair over bulging pecs and fabulous abs. Out of habit, she licked her lips.
His chest expanded a bit as if he’d sucked in a breath. “Chelsea. You mind?”
She finally realized she was standing in his bedroom staring at him. She held up her hands and backed up. “Oh. No. Sorry.” At least he had a towel wrapped around his waist. If he’d been naked, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. Probably fainted.
She spun around and raced out. How many strikes could she accumulate against her? It was bad enough she had to move into his house, and he had to give up his bedroom. She hadn’t won any bonus points by dressing up in a cat outfit and flirting and dancing with every guy she’d known in high school, nor had she endeared herself to him when she’d snuggled in his tiny bed during the storm. The big no-no came when he’d caught her naked giving his brother a blowjob.
Nope. She was definitely persona non grata where Preston was concerned, and tonight was probably going to be her last night in his bed before he kicked her out.
In her defense, she had gone to the bedroom to find a way to package the blanket she’d stuffed in one of the drawers. Dinner didn’t need to be watched for another ten minutes. She honestly hadn’t heard him come in.
With this latest mishap, she’d be eating this glorious dinner by herself. In the off chance he’d let her apologize, she mixed up the pitcher of martinis and poured two glasses.
A few minutes later, Preston came out in a dark green pullover sweater, faded blue jeans, and scuffed cowboy boots. No one ever looked more handsome.
Without asking, she handed him his drink. “I’m trying out a new recipe.”
He seemed to hesitate a minute before taking the glass. His stomach grumbled. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to eat much today.”
Perfect. “I happen to have cooked something I think you’ll like. Roasted potatoes and a sirloin steak with a jalapeño glaze. I know how much you love hot peppers.”
He cocked a brow as if he was surprised she paid attention to what he ate. “You’re tempting me.”
Really? “Good. Of course, you could take your chances with Marge’s cooking downstairs.”
His brows pinched. “Marge? No, thank you.”
Yes! “Well, have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly.”
“What about Luke?”
“He’s helping Mrs. Hurley with a water leak.”
She could have sworn he looked a little green. Was he upset he’d have to eat alone with her? Too damned bad. It was time he realized she was here to stay, if not in his house, then downstairs in the kitchen.
After she carried out the fragrant steak on a platter, along with a mixed green salad, baked potatoes, and freshly steamed broccoli, she sat down.
If he was upset over the reminder of it being his mother’s birthday, she wanted to express her sympathy. Perhaps he’d be willing to share some stories with her. “Luke told me it would have been your mom’s sixtieth birthday today. I’m sorry. She was such a great lady.”
He nodded, but his dour expression didn’t change. From the way he let his gaze linger, he seemed to appreciate the thought.
When he didn’t say anything more, she broke the silence. “Well, dig in.”
He placed the napkin on his lap. “What’s the occasion for the gourmet meal?”
“Ross’s capture.”
“Bradford called me. It is good news.”
She expected a little more joy, or a declamation that the bastard deserved to be in jail for the rest of his life. She got neither.
He picked up a piece of steak and shoveled it in his mouth. He seemed to eat in a circular fashion, taking a bite from one dish then on to the next before returning to the steak. In between he sipped the martini. “This is wonderful.”
Had he just given her a compliment? Things might be reparable after all. “Thinking of Ross, I’ve been wondering what happened to make you go into business with him.” She’d heard why he’d bought him out. Luke had given her some information, too, but she needed something to talk about.
He dragged the table napkin across his mouth and leaned back. “Ross came with money in hand and begged me to give him a chance.”
“A chance?”
“After his brother was put in jail for murder of a cable man, many of the townspeople had turned against everyone in the family. I wanted to give the guy a break.”
“Being nice and going into business are two different things.”
He finished chewing. “I know, but in truth, I needed his dad’s cash. To sweeten the deal, he said he had a lot of connections to good but cheap whiskey, and that with his daddy’s pull, we could get the permits to retrofit the bar in no time.”
“That sounds a little shady to me.”
He chuckled, but his tone held no humor. “It was, and I told him so. He backed off, but without the money, I couldn’t have my dream.”
“What about Luke?”
“He was working in Denver as a stockbroker.”
“I can’t visualize carefree Luke trading stocks.” Luke seemed to imply the job was a way to escape. Like her, he hadn’t realized what a special place Pleasure was.
“He’s good with money. Luke might act carefree, but when it comes to business, he’s savvy. Long story short, I joined forces with Ross with the idea I’d buy him out after some time. That opportunity came sooner rather than later. After I caught Ross trying to mess with some of the customers, I told him to get out. When he demanded his share of the bar, Luke came to my rescue, cashed in his stock, and bought him out.”
“Ross probably learned of the anniversary of the buyout and wanted to hurt you.”
He didn’t answer for a moment as he finished the steak. “You mean hurt me by hurting you.”
“Maybe.” What a scum. Ross deserved to spend a few years in jail.
Preston waved a fork. “I agree with you about Ross, but he’d always harbored desires for you. When he started talking trash about you, I wanted him out of my sight.”
Her heart melted. He did care for her. “Did it take much work to convince Luke to join forces with you?”
“At first, yes, but I could tell he wasn’t really happy in Denver. It didn’t take long before he called and said he could buy Ross o
ut. We might not see eye to eye on everything, but in a pinch, I want Luke at my back.”
She could see the love he had for his brother.
Preston finished his meal and stood, looking as if he would go downstairs.
“Before you go, I want to give you something.”
“What?”
Now why did people always ask that? A gift was a surprise. “Be patient.” She rushed into his room and, making sure the blanket was neatly folded, carried it out, upset she hadn’t had time to wrap it properly. “I’m sorry I got blood on your mom’s comforter. I feel really bad about that, so I made a little token. I know it will never replace her quilt, but given the short period of time I had to—”
He took the blanket from her. “It’s perfect.” He studied the workmanship. “You even put a C in the middle.”
“For Caulfield.” Geez. He could figure that one out.
“This was so nice of you to take the time to make this for us.”
He stood, walked over to the sofa, and placed the blanket on the arm. Before she had a chance to say how much spending time with him meant to her, her cell rang in the kitchen.
“Sorry, it’s probably Vicki. I asked her to follow up on something. Hold on a sec.” The timing of the call came at the worst time. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Is this Chelsea Mansfield?”
“Yes.”
“I’m with the Division of Armed Services.”
Her muscles locked and her throat closed up. The man went on, but she only heard a few words. Something about her two brothers being sent home.
“Are they alive?”
“Yes, ma’am, just injured.”
“Injured?” Her brain had difficulty with the words. “What happened?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. They should be arriving in the next day or two. Do you have an e-mail address where we can send you their arrival information?”
“Yes.” She gave it to him, certain he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Did her brothers have their legs and arms intact?
She still held the phone long after the man disconnected. She felt, rather than saw, Preston come in.
“What is it?” His tone came out so soft she barely heard him.
“Clint and Sanford were injured.”
Her legs weakened and the next thing she knew, Preston was carrying her into the bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed and sat down next to her.
“Tell me exactly what they said.”
She tried to recreate the conversation. “I can’t remember much after I learned they were coming home. The man didn’t know the extent of their injuries.” Oh, God, if they were hurt bad, they might not survive. Physically, they might with rehabilitation, but what about the emotional toil of disappointing their team by getting injured? Had they been responsible for any other injuries or even deaths? Her noble brothers would never recover if they had.
Tears gushed out and Preston wrapped his arms around her. He rubbed her back in soothing circles. “They’ll do fine. They’ll have you to help them. With your good cooking, they’ll be back on their feet in no time.”
She knew he was trying to be upbeat, but in a way, it made it worse. “Why didn’t Clint or Sanford call? Or e-mail?”
“It’s not always easy in Iraq. I don’t think Internet cafés have taken off there yet.”
That brought a small smile, but one that didn’t last long. “I’m so worried.” She sniffled.
Preston handed her a tissue from the side table and she wiped her face.
“I know what will help. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll give you a back rub.”
She couldn’t think of a kinder gift. “Okay, but don’t get upset if I fall asleep.”
“I’m counting on it.” Preston gathered the four pillows on the bed. “Put these under your stomach and just relax.”
She closed her eyes and forced the tension from her muscles. Her brothers could have a broken arm or some shrapnel in their leg, which would heal. Their tour of duty was up in January, so it made sense for them to be coming home instead of recuperating over there. Finally, some clear thinking had come through. In fact, getting to see them three months early was something to celebrate.
“I think the man said they’d be on a commercial flight. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Sure is. Their injuries can’t be too serious.”
She could only hope. Preston massaged her neck and back. With each pass the pressure increased. “I can’t tell you how good that feels.”
“Shh. Remove all thoughts from your mind and concentrate on the tension flying out of your body.”
Easier said than done, but she obeyed and paid attention to his wonderful hands and the care he took. Preston methodically worked his way down her shoulders and over her back, leaving the heat of his hands on her body. When he picked up her right leg and kneaded her upper thigh, her ability to keep her mind blank dissolved. Erotic thoughts slammed into her harder than a bullet shattering glass.
Despite his early rejection, she knew deep down that Preston wanted her. This time she wouldn’t make the first move. Her attempt at being aggressive had only gotten her in trouble. “I could unwind better if I wasn’t wearing my jeans.” Was that too lame? Hadn’t she just told herself she wouldn’t make the first move? Weak.
Without saying a word, he slipped off her shoes and socks, and she wiggled her toes, enjoying the freedom of bare feet. She reached under her belly and unsnapped the button. Her stomach rejoiced at the extra room.
“Don’t move. I’ll do everything. I don’t want you to have to think about anything.”
When had anyone said that to her before? Her mom had died when she was eighteen. By that time, Clint and Sanford had enlisted. She alone had to navigate college and the loneliness of being by herself.
His warm fingers reached under her to unzip her pants, nearly searing her heated flesh with his touch. She lifted her hips slightly to accommodate him and almost let a groan escape from the pleasure of him putting pressure so close to its desired location.
As he slipped off her jeans, the tugging caused her panties to drop down, exposing her behind. Preston took a long moment before straightening them out as if he was debating whether to remove them. Please do.
From the squirting sound, he must be using her body lotion she’d left next to the bed.
“This might be cold.”
“Go for it.” She’d take having his hands on her body any way she could get them.
When he placed the cream on the back of her thighs, her butt muscles automatically contracted. He lightly patted her behind.
“Told you to let go.”
She relaxed again. Then the real massaging began. Up and down he went, soothing the back of her thighs. The bed sank and she could tell his knees were straddling her right leg. Wanting to open up for him, she moved the left leg wider. His hands stilled for a moment. Could he tell what she wanted? Probably. He was an experienced man. Even after he moved to her left leg, the right pulsed with need.
“Roll over for a sec,” he commanded.
She did, wondering if the massage time was finished or if he’d give her front the same attention.
Preston took hold of the hem of her T-shirt and lifted it over her head. His eyes darkened when his gaze shot to her black lace bra. Figuring the reason he had her turn over was to remove her shirt, she partly rolled back to allow him access to the back of her bra.
“As long as we’ve gotten this far, we might as well lose the rest, too.”
* * * *
Why had he said that? His libido had lost it. Preston stared as Chelsea reached behind her back to unhook her bra, her gaze looking anywhere but at him. He kept telling himself that this was what she wanted.
She threaded her arms through the straps and tossed the pretty thing on the bed, looking way too adorable. His tongue tensed, waiting for the chance to suck on her nipples, but he forced down his needs. Chelsea needed comforting fir
st. She’d just learned her brothers were injured enough to be given leave. Despite her getting to see them earlier than promised, he could tell she’d been upset.
He glanced to the side for a moment. “Turn back over.” Not having to see those precious tits would help with his control, which, at the moment, was difficult to find.
So as not to get cream in her luscious, long, blonde hair, he lifted the mass off her shoulders and smoothed out her curls to the side. The sensuous texture excited his callused fingers. When had this woman captured his heart?
Probably when she was ten.
He inhaled to refocus before adding more cream to his hands. Returning to her neck, he rubbed in the lotion to moisten her skin then began the ritual of massaging her back. He closed his eyes and let his mind lead him. Her shoulders were silky, but her arms were tight with tension.
He increased the pressure, dragging his palms down one arm then the other. As he moved lower on her body, intense carnal thoughts invaded his brain.
He wanted her. Plain and simple. Her thoughtful gift had broken his resolve. With her brothers returning, his promise would become void. Despite that, he wanted to look after her, see to her, and care for her for as long as he lived. Luke, he knew, felt the same way.
When he opened his eyes to stop the mental picture, his hands were on her pliable ass. That damned image invaded of the three of them together, and he could picture Luke squeezed into her puckered hole while he enjoyed her sweet pussy juices flowing around his hardened cock.
“Preston?”
Drawing his attention back to her, he looked down and noticed his finger had ringed that tight, muscled bud. “Yes?”
“Have you ever had sex back there?”
He was thankful his groan hadn’t been audible. “Yes, sweet thing.”
“Do women like it?”
It was Luke’s passion, but he had engaged in the delightful experience more than once. “Oh, yes. It’s different from your pussy, but just as enjoyable. Sometimes it’s nice to have a woman’s muscles so tight around my cock that I can’t think.”
Monroe, Melody S. - Chelsea's Pleasure [Pleasure, Montana 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 7
