Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
Page 1
Cowboy Boots 4
Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures
She has a secret
Kelly Martin is in bed with the enemy, and she keeps her position until old lovers resurface, demanding answers. Facing an uncertain mission, Colt Candy, Kemper Lox, Brand Marx, Gabe Johns, and Crue Candy meet in Sin City. And it doesn’t take them long to gauge the enormous dangers surrounding the woman they love.
They plan to uncover the truth
Fighting to protect her, the Underground Unit operatives soon realize the threat against Kelly cannot be neutralized when the enemy has a strong hold on someone close to home. To make matters worse, a gambling debt places Kelly in the direct line of fire.
Playing a game no one can win
Several Underground Unit operatives ante up in a high-stakes poker game where winners are only determined if they walk away with their lives. And a dead man’s hand is the least of all worries.
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 71,413 words
COWBOY BOOTS AND UNADULTERATED PLEASURES
Cowboy Boots 4
Natalie Acres
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
COWBOY BOOTS AND UNADULTERATED PLEASURES
Copyright © 2012 by Natalie Acres
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-127-5
First E-book Publication: December 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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DEDICATION
For my friends in Las Vegas and Reno. You’ve provided countless hours of inspiration.
COWBOY BOOTS AND UNADULTERATED PLEASURES
Cowboy Boots 4
NATALIE ACRES
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
“Well I’ll be damned.” Kelly Martin’s wrist pulsed with excitement. She stared at the casino lobby monitors, noticing everything about the three cowboys who made their way to the elevators. Her sex defied her with an instant longing she’d never been able to describe, let alone control.
One look and she was toast. Drawn to each of them, she held fast to years of memories as delicious images tossed her back into the pits of pleasure she only discovered in their bodies, tangled in the sheets covering their beds.
To an average outsider, the men looked as if they belonged at a cattlemen’s convention, but while they may have been dressed in blue jeans and boots, the men hiding under those Stetson hats were not the average cowboys. Their guest registration suggested they were good old boys from Texas, but Kelly knew better. In fact, they weren’t from Texas at all.
The fellows boarding the lift and pursuing the top floor worked as operatives with the Underground Unit, an elite group of special enforcers with branches all over the country. They were guys she knew well, too. Prior to an assignment overseas, her father’s Nevada ranch had served as their US-West training facility. She’d lived under the same roof with them for more than two years. During that time, she’d learned their strengths and had become aware of their weaknesses. Each of them, to her knowledge, possessed only one.
A shiver ran down her spine. She inched closer to the bank of computer screens. She sat down in an executive chair and pressed a few buttons, zooming in on each of their faces as her mind traveled back to the year before, the last time she’d seen them.
“They haven’t changed much,” she muttered. Every muscle tightened in her body as she acknowledged the overwhelming effect they still had over her. Damn it to hell. They could’ve at least had the good decency to look a little rough around the edges.
“Miss Martin, are you okay?” Larry Bates asked. Larry had been the casino’s DOS, short for Director of Security, for the past decade.
“Yes, Larry. Thank you,” she replied, unable to look away from them. They were like a dream come true and, at the same time, a nightmare in the making. She had a past with these men, a torrid history that at one time left her heart in shambles.
“Not anymore,” she whispered, her fingers rushing over a few buttons in an effort to bring their faces into view. Once she locked in on one man, she clicked a button and took his picture. She repeated the process two more times. A beat later, she turned to Larry and said, “Stop elevator 5B.”
Evidently alarmed, Larry hurried across the room and followed casino procedures. He stood in front of a large panel of red buttons and slapped his hand over the fifth switch. He turned to her and awaited further instructions. When she didn’t make specific demands, he said, “Done, Miss Martin. Would you like for me to meet them at the top?”
“No,” she replied softly. “That will be all, Larry.”
He looked like he didn’t quite understand, but never questioned her. He returned to the secu
rity cubicles on the other side of the room, and gave instructions to some of the new employees, teaching them how to shift between screens so they could scan various areas of the casino. As he mentioned the placement of cameras in the hallways, restaurants, and various areas of the gaming floor, his voice faded.
Kelly grabbed the desktop, took a hearty breath, and rolled her executive chair forward. She pushed another button and tried to regain her composure. Quietly, she said, “There. Let’s see what the last year taught you fellas.”
She grinned to herself as she observed them. Kemper Lox and Brand Marx wore puzzled expressions. Colt Candy, however, apparently wasn’t surprised.
As soon as their elevator came to an abrupt halt, Colt glanced up and smiled at the camera. Brand and Kemper backed to the rear of the elevator, took a military-type stance, and quickly tucked their hands behind their backs.
“Thata boys,” she muttered. “Draw those guns.” She knew where their weapons were tucked. Those beneath their jackets were the easiest to locate, but she’d bet a year’s salary each man personally packed more than seven weapons on his individual person.
As far as she was concerned, their loaded guns didn’t present the problem. Their presence in her casino meant trouble and a lot of it usually followed them whenever they were in town.
Brand bent over and retrieved something from his boot while Kemper’s arm remained at his back. With a hidden camera on the handrail, she was able to zoom in on his hand. His open palm rested on the butt of his gun. A .45 Magnum if her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
As words were exchanged between the three operatives, Kelly turned up the volume, slid on the headset, and settled her back against the soft leather chair.
This should be an entertaining show. Come on now, boys. Make this worth my while.
A soft, chime-like bell must’ve alerted Colt to the obvious. He looked up at the small lens and winked. “Hey, doll. How ya doin’?”
“Who the hell are you talking to?” Brand ripped into him.
“My baby darlin’,” Colt replied, nodding at the camera. “How are you, Kelly? Life been treating you all right?”
Brand and Kemper visibly relaxed. Kemper’s lips curved in a smile. He stroked a rough growth of beard and winked. “Is that you up there, Miss Submissive?”
Her nipples throbbed when she heard the pet name. Holy hell.
Brand, the quieter one in the bunch, lifted his chin. His tongue darted out and swiped across his upper lip, bringing to life a most beautiful sight. Brand should’ve been charged with criminal intent right then and there. His long tongue had the ability to ruin a good woman, even one promised to another man.
Kelly squirmed in her chair. Damn them. They had entered the building less than fifteen minutes ago, and in a matter of two seconds managed to make her thighs tense and her pussy clench with fond memories of old desires.
“Come on, baby,” Colt drawled. “Tell us how ya been, sweet thing.”
Still representing every woman’s dream fuck, Colt gazed into the camera as if he were staring into her eyes. Those pretty blue eyes sparkled with knowledge as he moistened his lips and dragged his thumb over the shape of his mouth. Rugged, handsome, and too rowdy to tame, Colt sported his sex appeal like a badge of honor. His curly hair still hung a fraction below his squared shoulders. To make matters worse, the denim he wore looked like the whitewashed material had been painted on sculpted thighs.
Damn man knew he was the epitome of perfection.
“She’s being shy,” Kemper said, his accent indicative of where they’d spent the last year. Trips to Melbourne had always played havoc on Kemper’s native Australian tongue.
“She’s having a laugh at our expense,” Brand said, lifting his body to a seated position in the corner of the elevator. With muscles in all the right places, Brand’s thick thighs had always formed the perfect seat. He wasn’t the best looking one in the bunch, but he housed a package full of benefits and all the ladies loved him.
She should know. She’d endured more than one or two of his strip shows prior to his employment with her father.
“She’s there,” Colt grated out. “I can fucking sense her.” A guttural growl slipped from his lips. “You gonna say hello, baby? Tell us how ya been doin’?”
Her nipples spiked as he spoke. This was the reason why she didn’t want Colt and his team there. Colt was one hundred percent male and the other two were ninety-nine percent right behind him.
Clearing her throat, she turned on her microphone. “Ah, Colt, you know how it is, honey. I’ve been hanging loose in all the right places. Doing all right for myself and getting by. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do in this life…survive?”
He stiffened at her reply. Her words were likely a far cry from what he’d expected to hear. The bitterness in them probably shook him to his core, too, but a lot of that was putting on fronts, doing her best to ward off their forthcoming advances. Even as the thought of avoiding them crossed her mind, she longed for their bodies, acknowledging then what she’d been forced to admit a few weeks before when their shadows showed up in her casino.
No one affected her quite as much as the operatives her father had trained for the Underground Unit’s US-West division. With the shadows, though, she hadn’t worried. Crue and Gabe had a job to do, and part of their assignment detail included staying out of sight. The success of their mission—whatever it was—depended upon their complete discretion.
Still, when she’d discovered Crue and Gabe occupying the suite next to hers, she’d known the others would soon follow. Now here they were, and three pairs of eyes focused on the lens capturing them.
Her fingers tapped across the keyboard. With all faces turned to the main camera, she easily zoomed in on their features and requested recent intel about each operative. In a matter of seconds, she’d know what each man had been up to over the last twelve months.
Using the casino’s identification system, she locked in the request and waited. A few seconds later, she retrieved three printouts. Her effort was in vain. The information desired wasn’t provided. Each white sheet of paper carried only two words, “Data Unknown.”
Colt removed his cowboy hat and slapped the brim against his hand. “You gonna sit there and gawk at us or invite us up so we can give you a proper hello?”
Proper hell. “I haven’t decided yet.” Their how-do-you-dos and good-byes always ended the same way. Her back against their beds or chests and their cocks thumping inside her pussy or staking a claim in her ass. Nope. Seeing them face-to-face probably wasn’t a wise move.
Colt looked down at the floor then lifted his hooded gaze once more. She was certain this sensual look was one he’d practiced and perfected. In those few seconds, he became a raw man, hungry and sensual, sexy and full of desires only she could satisfy.
Damn. She still bought every cockamamie line of bullshit he’d ever fed her.
“Reckon you might let us out of here sometime in the next few minutes? You know how I feel about tight spaces.”
“Yeah, Colt,” she drawled. “Best I remember, you used to say the tighter, the better.” A beat later she added, “From what I recall, you like everything sealed off and airtight.”
A grunt fell from his lips. “You have one way of remembering things, doll. I have another.”
“We’re not much use to you in this elevator,” Kemper said, pointing out the obvious.
Their practical uses were the reasons why they were temporarily trapped. Those functions of theirs scared her, and based on the way they strolled into her casino like they owned the property and the woman in charge, she was tempted to leave them in the elevator.
“Best I remember, you guys only leave a good impression when you’re holding a loaded gun anyhow.”
Brand grunted. He ran his hand through his short brown hair and set that muscular jaw. His emerald eyes glistened like jewels. Gripping the rail around the lift, he swung his legs back and forth. He looked as if he were jus
t taking it all in stride.
Good Lord, the bulge between his legs made her mouth water.
Kemper reached up and fiddled with the casino’s equipment. “If you can use a zoom feature, aim that camera down, Kelly. Look close now, baby.” He ran his large hand over his denim-clad cock. “That’s it. I know what you’re doing up there, Miss Submissive.” Kemper had a way with smoothly summonsing her with the promise of a rough fuck—just the way she liked things with Kemper—but he wasn’t overly crude. The fashion in which he’d take her body if he had the opportunity was another story. When they fucked, they went at it with no holds barred.
“Talk to me, Miss Submissive. Is your pretty skin flushed? Are you squeezing those knees together? What do you say you let me out of here so I can show you what I’ve waited to aim and fire your way?”
Her pussy quivered at the suggestion. He was right about one thing. Her legs were rubbing against one another. “Let me guess, you have a few silver bullets reserved just for me?”
“I wouldn’t call ’em silver, baby,” Kemper said. “But I bet you still have a snug chamber tight enough to squeeze a few of them out of me.”
“Pervert,” she rasped. Thanks to Kemper and his introduction to the world of sex toys, she’d developed a craving she couldn’t easily sate.
Kelly cleared her throat. She gaped at her weaknesses—the men who’d once sworn they’d always love and protect her. Then, in the same breath, they’d decided to let her go.
An old familiar wave of sadness threatened to destroy her as she thought of the past, the endless days of lovemaking and liberating sexathons they’d enjoyed whenever they could sneak off and love the day away. The delicious activities were quickly overshadowed by bitterness, the never-ending pain she always suffered when she revisited time spent in a Los Angeles hospital, an extended stay she endured without any of the men she loved by her bedside.