Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Natalie Acres

  “What do you want in exchange for Kelly?” Colt asked.

  “A poker game. Winner takes all. Kelly. The casino. Everything. The loser loses his life at the table.” He laughed. “Sort of gives new meaning to ‘the dead man’s hand.’ Doesn’t it?”

  “When and where?” Colt asked, never missing a beat.

  “Fifteen minutes. My suite.”

  “You mean Kelly’s?”

  “The one I shared with her, yes.”

  “We have to see her before the game starts,” Crue said. “I want to know she’s all right.”

  “Of course you do, Mr. Candy,” Lorenzo said. “But I think you first need to talk with Mr. Donovan and see if the Donovan brothers are willing to stake the casino in a poker game.” A beat later, he said, “Buy-in tonight is a million. Can you come up with it?”

  “I’ll be there,” Colt bit out.

  “One minute late and she’s dead,” Lorenzo said. “And I need that phone call from Mr. Donovan as well, or I put a bullet in her pretty little head before you can say, ‘Shuffle up and deal,’ understand?”

  “You’re taking a big chance here, Mr. Molinelli,” Crue said. “How do you know we won’t call in the authorities?”

  “Ha, ha, ha. You’re very funny,” Lorenzo drawled. “My men—two of them—have their guns aimed at your woman’s head. You show up with the police, she dies first. Then, I come after the rest of you.” He laughed aloud. “And, boys, drop the act. Calling in reinforcements is rare in your line of work. Am I right?”

  “How do we know you won’t harm Kelly once the game begins?” Colt asked, ignoring his question.

  A forced breath filled the line. “Each of you would walk through hell’s fires to save Kelly. You’ve shown me what she means to you. Now, I’ll show you why she is absolutely no longer of any use to me, but in due time you’ll see with your own eyes. There’s more pleasure in watching an enemy tortured. Fourteen minutes and counting, Mr. Candy. Come alone, or you’ll never see her again.”

  The line went dead.

  Colt rushed out of the bedroom and hurried to the safe. Punching in the combination, he withdrew a brown paper bag.

  “You sure it’s all there?” Crue asked.

  “I counted it this morning,” Colt replied.

  They’d all had a hunch Lorenzo would call one of them for a game. They’d researched his organization inside and out. From what they’d learned, he was a die-hard poker player. There were mixed opinions about his level of skill, but Colt would give him a good run for his money—and his life.

  Crue texted the others, sending out a quick summons. “Colt, it’s been a week. You know he’s planned his every move.”

  Colt rubbed his eyes. Dark circles encased them. “While he’s been planning, I’ve been thinking. Once I enter that suite tonight, I won’t leave without Kelly.”

  The others returned and Crue briefed them. When he finished explaining what had transpired, he said, “We need to call the casino and ask the poker room for new decks. I want those cards switched out every hour.”

  “He won’t allow that,” Colt said.

  “He’ll allow it, or you won’t play,” Crue said.

  “I’ll play regardless of the terms.”

  “And if you do, you will lose,” Kemper told him. “Use your head here, Colt. The only way you walk out of there tonight is if this game is fair and square from the start.”

  “He’s right, Colt,” Crue said, dialing Brock’s number.

  As soon as Brock answered, Crue said, “We’ve got a problem.”

  “No we don’t,” Brock assured him. “It’s handled. We’re in Vegas and have been for a few days. ”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The first thing Colt noticed when they entered Kelly’s suite were thick pieces of three-by-five glossy paper stuck to the areas where they’d previously affixed their small surveillance equipment.

  Lorenzo removed the one above the door and with pure arrogance, handed him one of the photographs. “We’ve been here in this suite since the beginning. After we had the room swept and discovered your spying eyes, we photographed the room while it was empty, realizing you’d never bother to come over here and check.”

  Colt wanted to slug him right then. Instead, he watched the casino employees as they worked to set up the poker table in the middle of the room. He swung his gaze to Lorenzo. “Where’s Kelly?”

  “Resting,” he replied, wearing his smirk as proudly as some men wore a tailored suit.

  “I want to see her.”

  “Where’s your brother? I assumed he’d accompany you tonight.”

  Colt snorted at that. “You said to come alone.”

  “Indeed,” Lorenzo muttered.

  Let Lorenzo and his men worry their criminal heads all night. Crue wouldn’t show his face there until absolutely necessary. “Take me to Kelly.”

  “You’re welcome to go in the bedroom and see her for yourself.” His smile widened. “I’ve had enough of her today.”

  “Why you sorry damn slime bag! I’ll put an end to you before this night is over. That’s a fucking promise!” Colt attacked him. Gripping his collar in between his hands, he glared at the man who’d abused Kelly, preyed on Daniel, and eventually made all of their lives a living hell by playing them like a game of craps, working too many side bets for the bystanders to understand what was happening straight down the middle.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Candy,” Lorenzo challenged him, his demeanor cool. “Snap my neck. But when you do, make sure you understand the consequences. Every action provokes a reaction and it isn’t always pleasant for either side. Too often you want to undo the damage, repeat the detrimental play, but it’s impossible when so many lives are at stake. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Colt slowly released him. The burning anger in the pit of his soul needed an outlet, a real release.

  “Go on, Mr. Candy,” Lorenzo said, indicating the door. “No one will die if you play by my rules until the last hand is dealt. You have my word.”

  “Your word means nothing to me,” Colt snapped, stalking to the bedroom. Swinging the door wide, he marched inside and glared at a burly fellow sitting next to Kelly. “Leave, asshole.”

  Lorenzo’s man sneered. “You’re as friendly as the woman, I see.”

  After the door closed behind him, Colt hurried around the room, checking the closets and underneath the bed. He locked the door and went to Kelly. His heart stilled when he took a seat next to her. Brushing her hair away from her face, his pulse stopped as he noticed the black mascara marks down her cheeks.

  She’d been crying. Fucking son of a bitch had made her cry. That alone spiked his need for retribution.

  He dragged her body to his, wrapping his arms around her torso and holding her head against his middle. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Colt?” Rousing from her sleepy state, she cupped his face. Her eyes appeared heavy. “I thought they’d kill you.”

  “No,” he whispered, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip. “Kelly, has he drugged you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I just haven’t been sleeping.”

  “Kelly,” he paused. He wasn’t sure he could ask her if she’d been abused, but he needed to know. He had to know if they’d harmed her in any way. “I’m so sorry.” Instead of questioning her, he embraced her, roughly dragging her body against his.

  “Colt, they didn’t touch me, not sexually,” she assured him, wiggling free of his grip.

  “They didn’t?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh God, Kelly.” His eyes watered. “Oh God, I don’t think I could’ve handled that.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes, too, as she rested her palm against his cheek. “I promise. I’m fine.”

  His cheeks filled with hot air and he steadily released a ragged breath. Realizing they didn’t have much time, he cradled her head between his hands and drew her to him. “Listen to me carefully.” He moved his mouth to her ear, inhaling her sweet honeyde
w scent before he spoke. “We’ve had the opportunity to research Lorenzo and his crew. He has a nasty habit of poisoning his victims. Do not drink or eat anything he gives you. Drink the water from the spigot.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, turning her head and kissing the inside of his palm. Her wicked tongue traced the fine lines in his hand.

  “Kelly,” he crooned, taking a deep breath.

  “Just a quickie,” she whispered, her eyes filled with lust.

  “I don’t have a condom,” he told her.

  Her eyes flickered with desire. “And what’s the worst thing that can happen there? I’m on the pill and I happen to believe you haven’t been sleeping around.”

  A hard knock pounded against the door. “Ten minutes, Candy!”

  “Ten minutes,” he whispered, his cock already making the decision for him. He’d spend the next ten minutes loving his woman.

  Rising to her knees, Kelly looped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Her lips were succulent and warm, but her tongue. Good God, her tongue was like a serpent’s as she broke their connection and slid down his neck, finding those tender little spots that drove him mad.

  Reaching for his belt, Kelly toyed with the leather as he freed himself. Her head was in his lap before he could lean back, bracing himself on his elbows.

  Taking his cock between her lips, the little vixen suckled his dick, bouncing her head over him. Fisting a handful of hair, he guided her over his heavy penis, watching as her mouth filled with his size, her cheeks swelling with the weight of his swollen prick.

  Popping her lips, she rose over him again. Pushing his back to the headboard, she lifted her flannel shirt, the only clothing she wore, and towered over him. Mounting him, she pressed down on his cock, her pussy enveloping him as her hands fell against his shoulders. “Fuck me, Colt.”

  He cupped her face and kissed her like crazy as his cock impaled her. She nipped at his lips as he thrust higher.

  Good God, she felt so warm and ready. Her pussy was like a silken channel, wet and soft, but tight enough to draw the hot spurt of his release in under a minute.

  Bending his knees, he flattened his feet on the bed and drew her to an upright position, locking her legs around his waist. Throwing his arm behind him, he rose and fell with her body until he felt the tighter squeeze of her cunt.

  “Don’t hold back, baby,” he crooned. “Come with me, pretty girl.”

  Her head tilted sideways before flailing about and she screamed out as he pumped his cock inside her, filling her with his seed. Dragging his hand up and down her back, he jerked as his cum spilled deep inside her pulsing pussy.

  “Colt,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his. “I love you, Colt.”

  He felt the tug of his lips as he lowered them to hers. “And I’ve always loved you, baby.”

  Slowly, she abandoned his body, acting as if sliding away from his cock took too much effort. “Colt, you have to listen to me. Lorenzo has spent the last week playing some of the best players in the business. He’s good. He’s called in several pros and paid them big bucks to train him. I’ve watched him play hundreds of hands since I’ve been here. I don’t know if you can beat him.”

  He quickly dressed. “I can beat him.”

  She thinned her lips. Her nostrils flared.

  “I’m not worried about the game,” he admitted. “I’m concerned about you.” Cupping her ear, he whispered again, “This whole room is probably full of cameras.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “You think that bothers me?”

  “You always were my little exhibitionist,” he rasped, stroking her bottom as he held her. Lowering his mouth to her ear again, he said, “Let me tuck you in bed, sweetheart. I have a present for you, so maybe you can playfully throw a few covers over my head so I can give you a little bit of security.”

  “Too bad it’s not the kind of gift you used to leave me for entertainment purposes,” she whispered back, nipping at his ear.

  Taking a step away from her, he said, “I’ll see you later. Wish me good hands.”

  “You have those,” she said, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him back to bed.

  She dropped to the mattress and he fell atop her. Immediately, their lips crashed together. When their mouths parted, he ran his fingers up and down her torso, tickling her and damning his cock for rising to the occasion with the theatrics of their game.

  Kelly tossed a pillow across his head and they continued their playful wrestling across the mattress. When the sheets and blankets were well tangled, Colt slipped the loaded .45 next to her hip. “Behave, okay?”

  She quickly nodded. “Be a winner today.”

  “I already am, darlin’. I already am.”

  * * * *

  “I’m not too worried about Colt now,” Crue said, watching Brock Donovan from the corner of his eye. “Sorry you had to witness the show.”

  “I didn’t watch. I have my own handful at home,” Brock said, reading over some documents.

  “When did you get in town?” Kemper asked.

  “What the fuck does it matter?” Brock fired back. “The important thing is I’m here and with any luck, I can negotiate with Lorenzo if your fearless—never mind recently fucked—leader can’t pull off the win.”

  “We all know that win is a death sentence, too,” Crue said, hoping Brock would enlighten him if he happened to be wrong.

  He didn’t. He returned to the paperwork, occasionally smirking when his phone buzzed with a text message. No doubt, the messages exchanged were personal.

  “What’s the plan?” Brand asked, taking a seat across from Brock.

  “Riley is dealing the cards, for starters,” Brock informed them.

  Crue made a fist and drew back his arm. “Yes! That’s what I like to hear.”

  Brock frowned. “I wouldn’t say this deal is in the bag, yet. Somebody managed to fuck up our plan when they asked for a new dealer every hour.”

  “How do we work around that?” Brand asked.

  “The poker room manager told Lorenzo the casinos on the Strip have utilized a new policy for private games. All dealers remain in the room until the game is over.” He typed a few words in his phone, grunted, and sent another message. He looked up again. “Veronica and Sloane Remington are in the lineup, too. We have three operatives inside.”

  Crue snickered. “Let me guess, Sloane wouldn’t let Veronica work alone?”

  Brock’s nose twitched. “He’s not as obsessed as he used to be.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see it for myself.”

  “He’s worse,” Brock said, glancing up. “She’s pregnant.”

  “What?” Crue felt like he’d taken a punch to the gut. “Are you out of your mind? You’ve read the new information we have on Lorenzo and his operations. He views women as weak links, and his men won’t have a problem putting a gun to Veronica’s head.”

  “That would be a grave mistake,” Brock said, ever so cool. “Sloane is a beast when he fights for Veronica, and let’s not forget Veronica is well trained. She’s one of the best operatives we have.”

  “Is she packing?” Gabe asked.

  “In places you and I can only dream about,” Brock said, grunting.

  “You don’t have a thing for Sloane’s woman. Do you, Brock?” Crue asked, deviling him.

  His phone rang about that time. His ringtone hummed with “Endless Love.” How sweet. “No,” he replied, standing and leaving the room. “Hey, baby.”

  Brock’s entire demeanor changed when his wife called. Maybe they’d have a good phone fuck before the poker game began. Brock was like a stiff rod waiting to strike back at the first bolt of lightning. Sydney Kane Donovan must’ve been a saint or completely insane to live with the man.

  “As far as obsessions go, Brock Donovan is owned by a woman,” Kemper said, shaking his head.

  “I know someone else who isn’t far behind him,” Brand said, waggling his brows. “Crue, you should’ve seen
Kemper last week. He’s as lovesick as Colt and I don’t care how much he denies his feelings. I watched him with my very eyes.” He lowered his chin and dropped his voice to taunt him. “Miss Submissive.”

  “She eats that stuff up,” Kemper said, assuming his notorious cocky attitude.

  An alarm alerted them of the approaching hour. The poker game was set to start.

  “Showtime, boys,” Crue said.

  Gabe took his seat in front of a computer monitor. “Here we go. May the cards fall in Colt’s favor.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Two hours into the game and another dealer rotation left Colt with a surge of relief. To Colt’s pleasant surprise, Riley Donovan assumed the chair.

  Colt rippled his chips as he watched Riley’s hands meticulously shift the cards as he shuffled. No one would’ve noticed the switch if they’d been paying attention, but Colt was betting on a top starting hand.

  Before Colt viewed his cards, he looked across the table and tilted his head at the wall. “Tell me again why the dealers have to stay in the room after their hour.”

  “New casino policy for private poker parties,” Lorenzo replied, frowning at his cards.

  Colt kept a straight face as he viewed his pocket rockets. Those aces never looked prettier, especially since he was down to two hundred and fifty thousand. Prior to Riley’s entry, things weren’t looking too great for the home team.

  “Believe me, Candyman, I’m not pleased by the addition of witnesses.” He grunted. “It makes for too much of a mess to clean up.” He glared at him as if he wanted to transmit a private message.

  Riley shot Lorenzo a sideways glance.

  “Deal the damn flop,” Lorenzo grated out.

  The flop came down as pretty as you please. Two aces—one spade, one diamond—and a king of diamonds.

  Riley looked at him with cool eyes, showing no emotion. With Riley dealing hands like these, Colt was untouchable. Playing off the possibility for giving away his winning hand, he checked. Lorenzo raised. Colt called.

  The turn card was another king, this one a heart. Riley’s gaze flitted his way. He’d stacked the deck better than the average guy and Lorenzo would raise hell when this hand was over.