St Martin Family 02 - Shameless

by Gina Watson

  SHAMELESS

  St. Martin Family Saga

  Gina Watson

  Copyright © 2013 by Gina Watson

  SHAMELESS

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  1

  Corrigan St. Martin was balls deep in his client’s owner as he had her bent over the examination table and plowed into her from behind. Cory was about to come and judging by the moans coming from Mrs. Simms, she had to be just about there too. She was married, and he shouldn’t have responded to her eye-fucking him, but damn, when she’d bent over to place her cat on the table, he’d lost it. She wore a silk lace undershirt, and her breasts nearly spilled out onto the examination table with the cat. She was natural, and Cory loved that. His dick had gone hard instantly. He wondered what kind of idiot she was married to. The guy obviously wasn’t aware of what he had.

  Cory reached around and filled his hands with her soft shapely tits and pounded away, emptying his seed into the condom he wore. He hated the damn things but at the rate he was having sex, he couldn’t afford to not wear them.

  Since he’d been back in Whisky Cove, he’d been set up with an endless supply of women. They had brought in their pets for “checkups.” Hell, even at church the Southern mamas threw their daughters at him. It was no secret that the St. Martin men were a catch, if one could be snagged. The only one hitched now was Cal, the youngest at twenty-six. Cory had a year on him.

  There was no way Cory would let himself be roped by a nagging wife; he had too much of a good thing going. Plus he didn’t need that aggravation. He recalled Camp’s issues with his first wife and those with his current girlfriend, soon to be fiancée. He thought Camp was crazy. Determined to be married and settled, he’d committed to a woman the church elders had deemed “quite the catch” just because she came from an old-money family and had a strong standing in the community. But that couldn’t be enough, at least not for Cory. Standing and money, no matter how high or how deep, meant nothing if the woman was a ballbuster. Cory had no interest in marriage. Trying to keep a woman happy proved damn near impossible. Even his father hadn’t been able to do it. Cory grunted; now he was thinking of his mom. Not the time for that. He thrust deep, trying to clear his mind. Just thinking of his mother roiled his stomach.

  He recalled the day she’d left and the gut-wrenching pain she’d caused as he’d begged her not to leave. He’d been twelve and she’d been immune to his cries. Too bad he hadn’t been immune to her defection.

  And there he was, thinking of her again. He tweaked Mrs. Simms nipples, trying to keep his mind on business. When she moaned, he knew he’d done something right.

  He’d been called the most handsome of the St. Martin men, but he didn’t buy it. They all had the trademark St. Martin ice blue eyes fringed in dark lashes, something the ladies loved. They also seemed to love his hair. He was tempted to chop it off but when woman after woman locked fingers in it when he rode them, he didn’t want to mess with a sure thing. The looks, coupled with his height and muscle, meant he never had to work too hard to have a woman visit his bed.

  He’d lost count of the number of different women he’d given it to since his return from college last year. He was having sex daily, some days multiple times, and with a different woman every time. Nice-looking women too. He asked no questions, but he knew some of them were married, like Mrs. Simms, who was currently in the throes of orgasm.

  Once Cory finished, he withdrew from Mrs. Simms, removed the condom, and threw it in the waste bin. He washed his hands while she adjusted her clothing. Opening the examination room door, Cory cleared his throat. “Mrs. Simms, bring the little guy back in four weeks for the next round of vaccinations.”

  Cory walked from the room and was straightening his tie when he met the tortured green eyes of a young woman holding an Airedale terrier in her arms. She sniffled as large fat tears splashed from her eyes and onto the dog.

  Cory motioned her to the back examination room. Since it was time to close, his secretary, and one of his first conquests since coming home, was closing up for the day.

  “Cory, she hasn’t checked in.”

  Why was she still here? He’d told her to leave when he’d discovered the school bus had dropped off her two heathen children. She never disciplined them and she allowed them to run amuck in his clinic, treating the maze of exam rooms as a playground. Her mother must have come for them because if they were here, he’d certainly hear them.

  “That’s okay, Amanda, I’ll take care of it. Lock up when you leave.”

  Truth be told, Amanda’s fake tan, fake tits, and fake platinum hair gave Cory the chills now, and her shrill voice made his skin crawl.

  She sighed louder than necessary. “Okay, Cory, you have a good one.”

  To claim Cory as hers, Amanda had tried all the tricks women try when attempting to get their hooks into a man. One morning Cory was answering email at his desk and the crazy woman walked into his office in a raincoat and nothing else. He’d told her the ploy was pathetically cliché. She’d offered to suck him off under his desk and unfortunately, he’d let her. Since then she’d become clingy, and that was when Cory made his rule: no serial dating. Actually it was no serial fucking, sucking, dry humping, or any other form of passion that led to climax.

  Since he’d been engaging in casual sex with so many other women, Amanda had cooled her jets.

  Cory walked into the examination room where the young woman and dog were waiting. She was seated in the only chair in the room, rocking the Airedale.

  Her luminous large green eyes looked up to him. “He needs to be euthanized. His usual vet was closed for the day. Please help me.”

  Cory knelt in front of the woman and petted the dog. “What’s his name?”

  “Randy.”

  “Hey, Randy,” Cory said as he stroked the dog’s head. Randy raised his eyelids and looked to Cory. Then he closed his eyes and winced. Cory saw the large tumor between his legs. Given its size, Cory guessed it must be interwoven into Randy’s internal organs.

  His owner was crying silently, tears streaking down her lightly freckled face.

  “I can offer pain management, but I assume he’s on medication already.”

  She nodded, her eyes fixed to the floor. “The meds were managing his pain until today.”

  “He’s old.”

  She nodded again, her head lightly resting on the dog. “Seventeen.”

  “That’s a full life for a dog. Damned good life. If you want to say goodbye, I can give you some time, and then I’ll take him.”

  “No!” Her head rose as her brows slanted inward and her eyes grew wide. “I want to hold him when you do it.” She kissed Randy. “I need to hold him.”

  Cory’s head tilted as he studied her. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head. Her long chestnut hair, with copper highlights that sparkled under the florescent lights of the exam room, hid her face.

  “You don’t understand. Randy has been there for me. Always. He’s the only remaining link between my parents and me. He was our family dog. We got him when I was seven.” She stroked the dog’s back. “I can’t let him go out alone. I’ll be here with him.”

  He’d seen this woman around his brother’s brewery. She worked there on weekends, but kept to herself. She wasn’t like the other women who worked there, definitely not like the one who’d actually groped him under the table; he’d had her in t
he bathroom. Had never even gotten her name.

  The chestnut-haired beauty’s distress weighed on him. And not only because her body heat reached out to him when he crouched in front of her. “I’ve seen you around. You work at The Good Doctor.”

  “Yes.” Her head rested on Randy’s as she continued to rock him.

  “I didn’t get your name.”

  “Brook Walker.”

  “Brook Walker.” Cory’s eyes turned wide as he recalled what he’d read about her in the Whisky Cove Herald. “The Brook Walker that rescues greyhounds from the race park?”

  She nodded. “That’s me.”

  Cory’s mouth opened on a whispered “Wow.” His gaze fixed on her. She’d rescued dozens of dogs and found them homes with people deemed suitable owners of a rescue greyhound. “You train them to be companion dogs, don’t you?”

  She nodded again, and this time a strangled cry broke from her lips.

  It was killing him to see her like that, so he scooped Randy into his arms. “Come with me.”

  Brook was on her feet quickly. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “I’m taking you and Randy out to my home, where there are stables and where we can all get comfortable, especially Randy.”

  Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. “What? Your home? I don’t need you to do that; I just need him euthanized. Will you do it or not?”

  Cory stopped at the door when it was clear she wasn’t going to follow. “I can do that here on the stainless steel.” He indicated the exam table with his head. “Or at a stable where we could lay him down on a bale of hay and let you take your time with him.” Cory’s body tensed. “Er, there’s also the matter of the burial.”

  Her head cocked. “The burial?”

  “Well, if you leave him here, he’ll be cremated. It’s the law.”

  She sucked in a quick breath.

  “If you prefer a more peaceful resting place, there’s a pecan grove at my childhood home. You could visit whenever you like.”

  She nodded as she thought through his words. “If it’s not an imposition, I would greatly appreciate the pecan grove.”

  Cory tilted his head. “Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do. After all, you put up with Logan at the brewery week after week.” He walked her out to his SUV and motioned for her to open the rear door. He laid Randy gently on the seat, on an old blanket already lying there. He handed her the keys so that she could start the ignition. “Just let me grab a few things we’ll need, and I’ll be right back.” She offered a tight smile this time with her nod.

  As Cory was making his way back inside, her smile went with him. He thought of her full lips and the pretty white teeth that peeked through. He’d like to taste those lips. He grabbed the things he would need to put Randy in eternal sleep. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He knew what Brook was feeling. He would do his best to make Randy’s last moments as painless as possible for her.

  Cory and Brook arrived at the gates of the St. Martin estate twenty minutes later. His father was in Lake Charles on business, so they would have the run of the place. Maybe he would grill some shrimp for them, if she felt like eating. She sat in the back on the ride over and murmured to Randy, words that Cory couldn’t make out from the driver’s seat. She truly was alone. He’d asked about her parents and discovered they’d both died. The story she’d shared about their deaths had reached out and grabbed him by the throat. He was determined to help her through the difficult night she had ahead of her.

  Cory drove straight to the stables. He looked into the rearview mirror at Brook’s red face, at the tears falling steadily. He parked in front of the stables and shifted to face her. He’d learned that no matter how painful, it was best to come clean regarding the events to come. Knowledge made things easier in the long run. “I suggest we get set up in the stables and, when you’re ready, I’ll administer the drugs.” She was back to silently nodding.

  Cory opened the rear door and removed Randy from her lap. Brook followed him into the stables. “Grab that blanket from the wall, will you?” Brook immediately complied. “Drape it across the bed of hay.” Cory tried hard to not disturb the resting dog but when he laid him on the blanket, Randy opened his eyes and moaned. “There you are, old boy.” Brook took the spot beside her dog.

  Cory returned to his SUV for the black bag that held the drugs that would take Randy out of this world. The dog needed to be put down, but he knew it would be hard on Brook and he hated that she would forever connect him to her pain. He’d put down several animals since he’d opened his vet practice. Of course the owners grieved but they all did it differently. He wondered how Brook would do it. Usually, there were two grievers, two owners. Would Cory need to comfort her? The thought wasn’t unpleasant to him, which he found odd. He shrugged.

  Cory was glad the horses they usually kept were currently housed at his practice for breeding; they had the stable to themselves. He walked in and sat opposite Brook, leaving the dog between them. “I know you’re aware that Randy is in a lot of pain. You’re doing the right thing.”

  Brook’s anguished green eyes met his. “Please, I’m ready.”

  Cory didn’t say a word. He pulled the loaded syringes from his black bag and took Randy’s paw into his hand and did what needed to be done.

  Randy would be in a state of eternal sleep soon. His respiration was slowing.

  Brook put her lips to his ear and said, “I love you, Randy. I’ll miss you.”

  Cory wanted to give them privacy but when he rose to his feet, Brook grabbed his ankle.

  He looked down and watched the tension ease from her tight shoulders on a deep exhalation of air.

  “Will you stay here with me? Please. I don’t have anyone else.” Her lips trembled, and her sorrow filled the stable.

  Cory wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know her, didn’t know what she’d need. He lowered himself to the ground and sat quietly with her. Brook pulled Randy tight against her and leaned into Cory. His body immediately went rigid. He wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy with women. Brook held Randy and lodged her head under Cory’s chin. His body responded naturally. Without thinking, he snaked his arm around her waist. Her hair, smelling of wildflowers, tickled his nose and. Her bronze skin glistened in the glow of the overhead lights. Cory suddenly, urgently, wanted to taste that skin but he willed his desire down. The last thing she needed was Cory preying on her as though she were an animal in heat.

  They sat quietly for about fifteen minutes. Rigor mortis would soon set in, and Cory didn’t want Brook hugging Randy when it did. She hadn’t moved since he’d placed his arm around her waist. To avoid startling her, he spoke softly into her ear. “I think we should talk about what you want to do next.”

  She turned her head to meet his eyes. “You mentioned a pecan grove?”

  Cory smiled. “Yes, I think Randy would like it there; it’s my favorite part of the property. Do you want to take him there now?”

  Brook turned to look at the lifeless dog that lay across her lap. She whispered, “Okay.”

  Cory stood. “Let me get Randy, and you can help me gather some tools.” He immediately loaded Randy into the Mule 4x4 and used a blanket to cover him.

  He walked back in and directed Brook, just to give her something to focus on.

  “Get the rake and the lanterns from that table.” Cory motioned toward the table, and he turned to grab the shovel. He hoisted a bag of sodium hydroxide onto his shoulder. “And take a couple of those gray blankets from the shelf behind the table too.” They loaded all the items into the Mule and Cory drove to the garage. “I’m just gonna get some water.” He leaped from the Mule.

  Leaning against the refrigerator was a spear with white ribbon dangling from the tip. Cory snagged the stick to mark Randy’s grave.

  He drove them to the back part of the property and unloaded the tools. He should have changed clothes, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Brook alone with her thoughts and h
er dead dog. It was hot, so he loosened his tie and removed it. His shirt followed. He started on the job of digging Randy’s grave.

  2

  Brook couldn’t believe the selflessness of this man. She’d walked into the first clinic she came to after discovering her vet’s office was closed. She’d heard Cory was a womanizer and in general a pig toward women, had in fact witnessed his poor behavior on two separate occasions herself. So his sensitivity with her didn’t add up. He seemed to genuinely care about her and her dog.

  Bronzed brawny muscle rippled across his shoulders and chest as he used the shovel to dig Randy’s grave. Whenever he jumped onto the shovel, digging deep into the ground, his trousers slid down to reveal a little more abdominal—and have mercy—more pelvic muscle. Brook watched in full euphoric bliss as moisture flooded her core. The man was any woman’s dream. For a moment Brook forgot about Randy. It was a welcome change.

  Looking out across the acres of St. Martin land, Brook wondered what it must have been like to grow up with such beauty. The abundance of land was a luxury that would have given Cory a childhood like no other. He would have spent countless lazy summer days out here without a care. She smiled when she thought of him as a dusty-headed child climbing trees and wreaking havoc on any reptile or little girl who crossed his path. He had six siblings, including Logan, so Cory would never have been alone, as she was now.

  Manly grunts drew her back to the task at hand. She continued to watch Cory. Once the hole was large enough, Cory gently lowered Randy into his eternal place of rest. He was wrapped in a blanket. Cory looked to Brook and asked, “Do you want to say anything?”

  Brook squatted down and placed her hand on Randy’s stiff body. “I love you, D.” She stood and nodded to Cory. He opened a bag of white powder and poured it over the blanket that enveloped Randy and then covered him with dirt. Once the hole was filled, Cory retrieved a wooden post with a white ribbon from the 4x4. He used a hammer to drive it into the ground.