“He won’t make it that far,” Colt said, walking to the door and looking down the hall. Sloane had departed as if he weren’t in any hurry. Now, he stalked to the elevator, dragging Veronica behind him. His body language suggested he was an aggressive operative in pursuit.
“Think Sloane will go after him?” Crue asked him.
“If the gun were in the other hand and you were in the grave? It would take a force stronger than Brock Donovan to stop me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I would’ve rather had an enema than sit through that interrogation,” Kelly said, entering the suite a few hours later. Tossing her keys to the counter, she poured herself a glass of water at the wet bar. “I’m telling you an enema wouldn’t have left my ass this sore. I sat on a metal chair for nearly three hours while they grilled me.”
“What is it about your woman and enemas?” Brock Donovan’s voice rose above the television.
She froze in place. Her skin heated in about two seconds flat. Slowly, she turned to face her men—she didn’t know how long she could think of them as such, but for the time being, they were hers—and the Donovan brothers.
Riley smirked as Brock pointed at the sofa. “Come in and have a seat. Maybe your ass will be properly rewarded after while.” He swung his gaze at Colt then gaped at Crue. “On second thought, you might want to stand.”
“Ha. Ha,” Crue said. “Very funny.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” Brock said.
“You want to talk about notoriety in the lifestyle?” Crue challenged him. “You’ve trumped me, man. Many times over.”
“We’re not here to whip ’em out and compare size,” Brock said, motioning for her to sit again. “I know you’ve already been questioned, but I need to know everything you told the boys in blue.”
“Tell me you didn’t stick around so I could punch the rinse-and-repeat cycle and go through the whole process again.”
“I did and you will,” he said, holding up an empty glass and tilting the rim at Brand.
“Stop the meeting,” Riley said. “The one with the God complex is thirsty.” A beat later, he added, “Brand, don’t wait on him hand and foot. He knows how to lift a bottle and he can get his own damned drink.”
Brock stormed to the bar and dropped three chunks of ice in his glass. Dousing the cubes with scotch, he returned to the large sitting area. By this time, Kemper had pulled Kelly’s body over his lap and Gabe was holding her legs across his.
Brock cleared his throat. “I’ll make this quick.”
“It’s appreciated,” Crue said, his eyes dark as he watched her.
The sexual tension in the room thickened by the minute and to make matters worse, Kemper stuffed his hand under her shirt. He didn’t do anything inappropriate, but the soft pads of his fingertips smoothing across her back destroyed her senses. She couldn’t think, much less carry on a conversation with Brock, a man who undoubtedly had played plenty of games with his shared wife, Sydney.
As if Kelly’s body needed another fuse lit, Colt stood behind her massaging her shoulders, his engorged cock parallel to the back of her head. To add to her building lust, Gabe removed her shoes and gave her a heavenly foot massage.
Brock cleared his throat. “Do the three of you mind to leave my operative alone long enough for us to debrief her?”
“She’s on our time now, Brock,” Kemper said, sliding that hot gaze down the bridge of his nose and eyeing her like a man battling several degrees of personal heat.
“What happened?” Riley asked, taking over. “We just need the long and short of the type of questioning you endured, what you told the detectives, how much they seemed to buy into your story, and that sort of thing. Summarize for him, or this could take all night.” He eyed Colt and then looked at Crue. “By the looks of things around here, I don’t think your fellows want to wait that long.”
Kelly squirmed in Kemper’s arms. She couldn’t help but notice how none of them corrected him. Her fellows. Were they finally and completely her fellows?
Pushing aside her overwhelming personal needs, she told her story. She explained in vivid detail what happened after she left the suite. Lorenzo’s brother had taken her to the bar and then excused himself. Veronica had followed them downstairs and, upon noticing his departure, motioned for her to leave, something she would’ve done on her own accord anyway.
Eyebrows raised around the room when she defiantly mentioned she hadn’t needed Veronica’s guidance. Picking up on the stiff necks and squared shoulders, she said, “You know, it’s not easy being the new kid on the block, but there’s something I’d like to say. I am my father’s daughter.”
Brock lifted a disapproving brow and frowned. “I hope not.”
“I’m not talking about the Daniel we saw at the end of his life. I’m talking about the Daniel Martin your father respected, Brock. The operative who trained beside Sam Kane and Mark Donovan, the man who earned the respect of Sloane’s father, and saved Casen Candy from a thousand deaths if you believed Crue’s and Colt’s stories.”
The room was quiet and she took a weighted breath, uncomfortable with their blank stares. “The father who raised me and even trained me isn’t the man who died eight days ago today. The dad I loved as a little girl is the same person each of you respected. He just had a sickness and it got the best of him.”
“He made bad decisions, Kelly. We don’t expect you to live with the consequences of those choices he asked you to make under duress.”
“Colt,” she said evenly, clearing her throat. “I’ve talked to Brock about this. I’m in, and if I’m out, then I go out the same way everyone else in this room leaves.”
“Like hell!” Colt said, abandoning her. Approaching Brock, he swung his arm behind him and waved his finger in her direction. “Tell me you didn’t keep her as an active operative.”
“I wish I could,” Brock grumbled.
“You don’t have trust in me?” she asked, feeling a stabbing sensation in the center of her chest. If her boss didn’t believe in her, how could she earn the respect of her fellow operatives?
“I believe in you and know you could be one of the best damned operatives we have, but I also know the kind of hell these men will go through if they care about you. The Underground Unit is no place for a woman, Kelly. You’ve seen more than the average person because your father took you on a lot of missions with him, something Sam and my father disapproved of, but couldn’t stop.” He turned to the others and said, “Daniel Martin raised Kelly for this job. From the time she was born, he taught her to survive. He taught her to fight.”
“The hell he did,” Colt bit out.
Crue was quiet. He stood at the window eyeing her with a hunger so intense she felt like she could hear his low growl from where she was seated.
“Exhibit A,” Brock said, picking up the remote to one of the computer monitors placed on the coffee table. “Gather round, boys. This is why your woman took a little longer than necessary to reunite today.”
Kelly froze in place as the fuzzy screen finally projected clarity. Gabe scooted around her legs and dropped his hands between his splayed legs. Brand sat on the arm of a nearby chair. Kemper pinched her hip. “This better not piss me off.”
Riley smirked. “It will.”
“Probably,” Brock said. “But at the very least you should respect her as a fellow operative. If not, there’s something wrong with you.”
The footage depicted a demure woman walking next to Lorenzo’s brother as they pursued the bar. They could clearly see Lorenzo’s brother directing her to a nearby chair and excusing himself. Veronica had called out to her. Kelly rose to her feet and watched Veronica go one way and she headed another.
Kemper relaxed against the sofa and smiled at Riley and Brock. “She works here. She probably knew the bastard was heading for the closest exit.”
“Keep watching,” Brock said, smug as usual. This time, his cockiness didn’t faze her. She liked Donovan�
��s attitude when he stood up for her.
Kaboom! Kaboom! Kaboom!
“What the fuck was that?” Colt asked, jolting forward.
“Several guns firing at one time,” Riley said. “Lorenzo had several men in the casino.”
“Smoke will clear in a minute,” Brock said, providing a sidebar.
Veronica walked around the corner. Out of nowhere, a man—and it wasn’t Lorenzo’s brother, but one of his men all the same—stepped between two rows of slot machines and pointed his gun at Veronica’s head.
“The way he was protected by the machines, Veronica would’ve been dead. She couldn’t use any self-defense moves to save herself and even if she had, she would’ve risked her child’s life if she’d fought him.”
At that moment, the moron sneered. Then, an evil laugh fell from his lips. “Die, bitch.”
The unified gasp filled the air as the footage showed Kelly rushing him. “Run, Veronica!”
Kelly elbowed Veronica’s attacker in the nose, locked her arm around his neck, and put him to sleep…permanently.
“Oh my God,” Kemper gasped, leaning forward.
Colt’s eyes glassed over. He didn’t speak.
“It’s not over,” Riley said, pointing. “I love this part.”
She glanced at Crue, who stood in the same place, watching her as if he thought she was the most interesting creature in the world. He rubbed his lips together and she could see the sparkle in his eyes and the evidence of lust in his expression. Her gaze jumped from one man to the next as she gauged the intensity of their expressions.
The replay of her physical strength demonstration unfolded before them, but she wasn’t interested in seeing how it all played out. She knew how it all ended.
Her gaze held at Crue. His dark and hooded eyes observed her while she allowed herself the luxury of gaping at the hardness swelling between his legs. He’d seen this video. She’d wager a good fuck on the fact—one where she did all the work. If Crue’s expression was any indication at all, she understood how this night would eventually end, too.
A scuffle evolved on screen as the men surrounding her cursed and made random comments. Brock paused the video and pointed the remote at Colt. “At one point, Kelly was surrounded by Lorenzo’s men, but with agility and confidence, she used what her father had taught her. One fluid motion of kicks led to orchestrated punches or practiced maneuvers many of you don’t even possess.
“When she drew her weapon, she used it. She did not hesitate. She did not look for another way out. In the end, she saved Veronica’s life and the life of her unborn child. There isn’t a doubt in my mind.”
Kemper fell against the sofa cushions. “Well I’ll be damned.”
“Who would’ve guessed,” Brand said.
Crue and Gabe held each other in a knowing stare. She wondered then how much they had assumed on their own. When they’d shadowed her, had they watched her routine workouts? Had they been there when she’d taken her daily five-mile runs? Had they followed her to the downtown area when she’d met her trainer for various exercises?
Crue winked and her heart melted. He was proud of her. Colt squeezed his eyes shut and the moisture pooling at the corners was hard to miss even when he rubbed his fingers over them.
“So you see, Colt,” Brock continued. “It would be hard for me to tell her to sit at home and raise a family when she is—by far—one of the best we’ve ever had in our bed.”
“I hope that’s figuratively speaking,” Kemper said, crossing one leg over the other. “I’d hate to have to tae-kwon-Kelly ya.”
They laughed as he dragged her body against him and hugged her. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ’cha?”
“You never know what you might find up my sleeve.”
“It’s down your pants that I’m concerned with at the moment,” Kemper rasped at her ear.
“All right, gang,” Brock said, turning up his drink and sipping the last of his liquor. “We’re out of here.”
“Thank God,” Riley said. “Sydney is impatient. She’s having a fit because Veronica is having the baby out here. She said something about a water birth and I tried to explain to her the option isn’t possible now. You know how Sydney is. She’s determined to find out why the doctors here won’t honor Veronica’s wishes.”
“You’d better tell her the truth,” Brock said. “Veronica didn’t want her to know, but we shouldn’t keep anything from her. She’ll find out soon enough.”
Alarmed, Kelly stood. “Is Veronica okay?”
“She was fine the last time I saw her,” Colt said. “She tried to knee me in the balls. Then, Sloane took off in a rush and Veronica was on his heels. I assumed Sloane was going after Lorenzo’s brother.”
Brock shook his head. “Sloane knew she was hurt when she didn’t take you to your knees.”
“She couldn’t have taken me to my knees,” Colt said, rolling his eyes.
Riley laughed. “You don’t know Veronica. She’s almost as much of a badass as your woman.”
“Anyway,” Brock said, releasing a deep breath. “They left the room and he realized something was wrong. Her water broke. They’re at the hospital now, but due to some minor complications, they’ll probably take the baby by C-section.”
“Is the baby okay though?” Kelly asked.
Riley’s phone buzzed and his face lit up the room as he read the message. “According to Sloane, baby and momma are just fine. She just delivered an eight-pound baby girl.” His mouth moved as he read another text that came in right behind the first message. “Kelly, they’ve named her Kelly Martina, after you. And Veronica said to tell you she owes you.”
An overwhelming surge of pride lifted her spirits. She looked at Colt, still sensing his unease. Taking a jab, she said, “Tell her we’re even. She left Colt’s equipment intact and that’s worth a lot.”
“I’ll say,” he muttered, taking it all in stride.
“We’re out of here,” Brock said. “We’ll probably swing by the hospital on the way out. If you need anything, call before we leave so I don’t have to make another trip to Vegas anytime soon.”
“You don’t like our city?” Kelly asked, walking them to the door.
“It’s full of sketchy people,” Brock said.
“You’re one to talk,” Kelly told him, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek.
Brock’s face turned red and Riley laughed. “That was worth the trip right there.”
“Thank you, Brock,” she said sincerely.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
The men shook hands and slapped backs, saying their farewells. Before they departed, Riley said, “You can cover my ass anytime, lady. You fought like a man out there today.”
“Thanks, Riley.” She said a final good-bye and closed the door. Leaning against the panels, she crooked her finger back and forth, summonsing each and every one of them. “I may fight like a man, but I’m ready to love like a woman.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’d like to know how we went from what I thought was a salacious offer of a good time to sitting in the back of a limousine going to only God knows where.” Kelly rubbed her bare shoulders against the leather bench.
“Want me to scratch an itch for you?” Colt slid his hand down her back and raked his nails across her skin.
His lips went to her ear. “Better?”
She released an angst-ridden breath. “Better would be cooling the burn between my legs.”
“Such a little wench when she doesn’t get her way,” Gabe said.
“Since when do you call me names, Gabe?” she asked, her eyes meeting his lustful stare.
“Since I’ve noticed how difficult you are when things don’t go your way.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, noticing they were headed out of the city.
“Pahrump.” Crue gave the one-word answer and stretched his long, muscular legs forward.
Her eyes felt heavier as soon as s
he noticed the stretch of denim showcasing a tight package between his legs. Damn. If she didn’t have a growing appetite for Crue, she didn’t know what to call these impossible urges.
Colt draped his arm around her shoulders. Drawing her against his chest, he kissed her forehead. “We’ll be there soon.”
“In the meantime, what am I supposed to do? Sit here and stare at the very men who’ve made wet panties into the latest fashion statement? Come on, guys. I’m tired. And last I checked, I haven’t lost anything in Pahrump.”
Kemper’s face flickered with visible excitement. Rolling his tongue over his bottom lip, he said, “I think you’ll like Pahrump.”
“I don’t,” she said. “I’m more of a city girl myself.”
“You ride,” Colt reminded her.
“And you used to love tending to the cattle on your Dad’s ranch,” Brand told her.
She took a quick intake of air and her mouth dried as she looked out the window, accepting the pain. Would she ever be able to overcome the grief and move on? Would she always still at the mention of his name?
“I’m sorry, Kelly,” Brand said, motioning for Kemper to switch seats.
Her eyes met Crue’s gaze. He clenched his teeth and locked his jaw. She’d noticed the differences and the similarities in the brothers many times, but lately their similarities were beginning to warm her heart. Colt and Crue would pick up weapons and fight off anyone who hurt her feelings.
Kemper, Brand, and Gabe would be well served to watch their backs and their loose lips. She grinned at the thought.
“There’s my girl,” Colt said, tilting her chin to his. Pecking her lips, he added, “A memory you want to share with us?”
She shook her head and looked out the window. “How far are we?”
“Not far,” Crue said, a reply given—no doubt—so she would look at him again.
“Anyone want to tell me why I’m bound for this little trip?”
Colt pushed the small button on the door. Slowly, the privacy glass locked in place.
Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 19