“Wait right there,” Harley said, a taunting edge to his voice. “I want to hear this.”
“I agree.” Mac snickered. “Why would Draegan need you around if he’s planning to haul the little Miss off to the bedroom?”
The door slammed behind them and Draegan jerked to attention. “Oh hell.” His heart sank the moment he saw her because there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. She’d heard Mac’s last words. “Damn it.” He hung his head, cursed a few times, and finally lifted his gaze, aware of everyone else now staring at him, including one miffed woman who didn’t seem quite as amused as Harley and Mac.
“Draegan.” Serena brushed her strawberry-blonde locks away from her slender shoulder with one sweep of her hand. “Is this true?”
Markie sighed dramatically. “Drae?” He thinned his lips and jerked his head in Serena’s direction. “She’s waitin’ for answers, sugar.”
“Markie! I’ve got this.” He rushed down the steps and grabbed Serena’s hand, vaguely aware of the fact that he was only dressed in his thin mint-green boxers.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Serena resisted. “I’m fine where I stand.”
“You may be, but I’m not okay with leaving you in their care.” Stubborn woman. “I’m taking you upstairs before these idiots fill your pretty little head with nonsense.”
Markie waggled his brows. “I taught him that line.”
Damn him.
Draegan loosened his grip and held out his arm. “Serena, please. You can wait upstairs in the spare bedroom.”
“Our brother has a thing for bedrooms, in case you’re wondering,” Mac teased.
“On that note, I’ll wait down here.” She took a step back.
Draegan persisted. “I’m afraid if you do, you and I won’t make it out the door tonight.”
“Based on what I just heard and how you’re dressed? Apparently that was the idea all along.”
* * * *
Serena was a wreck. She stood next to the four-pane window, admiring the boxwoods, listening to the low voices in the next room. Draegan was clearly furious at his brothers and Markie. She’d overheard enough to know that the outburst downstairs was likely staged.
The McCall brothers were always teasing someone. She’d waited on them enough in the café to know they weren’t happy if they weren’t ribbing one another.
Markie was comic relief, but apparently Draegan didn’t think he was too funny when he stood at the butt of his friend’s jokes. Elevated voices and slammed doors let her know the battle between the four had reached a conclusion.
She took a deep breath and waited. At first she stared at the door like an overanxious pet awaiting her Master to return home after a long day away. Disgusted at herself for thinking along those lines, she sat on the edge of the chair.
She’d been an unwilling submissive to her former husband. While she had some friends in the lifestyle, she’d opted out based on her marriage experience with a wannabe Dom.
Crossing one leg over the other, she was too aware of the slight breeze when she adjusted her skirt and placed her hands in her lap. She glanced down at her fitted shirt, wishing she had selected a loose-fitting shirt, something less obvious.
Serena had dressed for Draegan and he was bound to suspect as much. Most of the time, she was in uniform when he visited her at Trouble’s only café. After hours, she dressed down casual wear by throwing on a cap and wearing sneakers with colorful fuzzy socks.
Tonight, however, she’d dressed for date night—snug black top with a short skirt and heels to match. She wondered if the all-black might have been a little much.
Her previous husband had always insisted on bright colors. He often told her to go change if she ventured outside in darker tones. He used to tell her only sexy and confident women wore black and darker shades. Those were the gals who could pull it off and dress up the dull to look classy. Typically, Serena’s ex made insulting her into a real sport, apparently tallying points for each of his verbal slams.
Sometimes he’d spend an hour or more listing the reasons why someone as ugly as his wife shouldn’t dress in tight clothing. His wife, after all, shouldn’t have been caught dead—much less alive—in such drab outdated fashions.
Serena went to the mirror then, wondering if maybe she should’ve heeded that old advice. Her clothes showed some slight evidence of wear.
After tilting her head one way or the other and nervously sliding her hands down her sides, Serena decided Thorn had been right. Maybe she wasn’t classy enough or pretty enough to wear such tight-fitting garments.
Frowning at her reflection, she was seconds away from fleeing when Draegan walked in, dressed to the nines in his black cowboy hat, jeans to match, and a white-buttoned down shirt.
“Wow,” she said, wishing she could take it back. The last thing she wanted to do was act like some awestruck woman.
“Backatcha,” he said, traipsing across the room and immediately hugging her.
She swallowed back her nervous jitters and smiled up at him, wishing he’d stop looking at her like he admired her. Those gestures made a woman wish, made her hope, and sometimes even made her believe.
“Do you—”
“No,” he whispered, lowering his head to hers. “I’m not ready yet.”
“But you didn’t let me finish,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl.
Draegan pulled her against him and as soon as he wrapped his heavy arm around her waist, she felt accepted. More importantly, she felt safe.
“You were about to suggest going and I’m not quite ready yet.”
“You aren’t?”
“No.” Draegan removed his cowboy hat and tossed it to the small sofa nearby. He then ducked his head and tilted her chin up. “Since that last kiss several months ago, I’ve thought of one thing.”
“One?”
“Well.” He wrinkled his face in apparent thought and then grinned. “Let’s go with one so I can remain a gentleman on our first date.”
Serena’s skin heated. She couldn’t help but acknowledge the tingling sensations rushing up and down her arms and legs.
Draegan tossed his head back as if to summon her. She absolutely loved that sexy maneuver. It was one she’d seen Allister McCall use with Ellie. And every last time he tried that number, Ellie was in his arms, making out with him. Did Draegan expect her to leap forward, lock her legs around his waist, and start kissing him like a wild vixen might?
On the outspoken side at times, she just went ahead and asked, “Do you and your brothers practice that head-thing?”
“What head-thing?” he asked, a raspy edge to his deep voice.
She threw her head back and tried to imitate the McCall way. She even went as far as narrowing her eyes while lifting her brows. “That head-thing.”
Draegan heehawed like her mockery was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. “You’re adorable. You know that?”
She opened her mouth to say, “No” but something happened then, something that she couldn’t really explain. Instead of muttering an inexperienced girl’s response, she gave him a woman’s sultry reply and said, “If you think so, why don’t you show me?”
His lips curved in a wide smile and those cocksure dimples slipped up his cheeks. “Now that sounds like an invitation.”
“It was,” she whispered, cocking her head and studying the man with the sexiest black eyes she’d ever seen.
He tucked his fingers under her chin and lifted her lips to his. Then, he gave her one of those passionate Draegan McCall kisses. He’d given her a similar kiss late one night in his office.
She practically melted into his embrace as he held her against the hard ridge of his growing erection. She backed away from him then, wondering how much he remembered about her history, if he recalled anything at all.
Some men would look at her and forever see a product of abuse. In fact, she’d been a woman in waiting, a young and stupid girl who was pushed aside for others, a young woman who wa
s once ignored and neglected but now all set to spread her wings and fly.
“I’m ready when you are, Mr. McCall.”
His darkened expression softened and he grabbed his hat and tossed it atop his head. Holding out his arm in a gentleman’s gesture, he said, “I’ve been waiting on you for a long time, ma’am. You’re darn right I’m taking you out on the town.” She placed her hand in the bend of his arm and he patted her fingers and added, “And then I’m bringing you right back here where we started. There’s a thing or two that’s been on my mind since you woke me up in the middle of the night.”
“Like you pointed out, that happened a few months ago.”
“Yes and a man who has a few months to think is a man who knows exactly what he wants.”
Chapter Two
Markie pranced to the gate and stood there waiting, expecting to see the stretch limousine pulling curbside any moment. He took deep, calming breaths, trying to steady his twitching nerves, but it didn’t do a lot of good.
Fishing his phone from his pocket, he noticed the time. It was eight o’clock. Draegan was probably a good hour and a half into his date by now. He might as well check in and see how things were going.
He hit one and dialed his best pal. After four rings, voicemail picked up and Markie grunted “Shit, sugar. I know when I’m being ignored. You always have your phone with you and the volume is always on ring-mode.” He released a sigh and then took a few strides to the left before working his walk back to the right. “Just thought I’d tell ya. I have a hot date tonight, too. Never like to leave the place without sayin’ goodbye. Ya know, on the chance this Manlist connection is one for the record books. Anyway, ciao. See you on the other side of a sunrise, my friend. Love and kisses, Markie.”
He grinned at the phone as a text was fired back.
What the hell do you want, Markie? I’m with my girl.
Markie laughed aloud. “His girl?” He jiggled his shoulders and paced again. Come to think of it, “his girl” sounded nice.
Draegan had been waiting for the right one to come along. He’d never admit as much, but Markie knew Draegan as well as he knew himself.
Fortunately for Draegan, he never had to resort to online dating through the Manlist. The Manlist connection had its ups and downs. Most of the gay men listed there, however, were only interested in hookups.
The fellow who’d tagged Markie as a match and possible date interest had been different from the others. Right from the start, Markie had felt at ease with him. Then again, Markie was comfortable with pretty much everyone.
“Markie!”
With one exception.
He slowly turned and looked up at the turret, the main part of the guardhouse. “Yes, Allister?” He cocked his head and rested his hand on his hip.
“Got a date?”
“Yes, Allister.”
“What time did he tell you he’d be here?”
“I’m early,” Markie lied, checking out his clear nail polish in the spring sunlight. “What are you doing up there, anyhow? I thought you were working days now.”
“Traded with Draegan,” Allister replied, leaning over the wall. “He had plans tonight, too.”
“This I know,” Markie sang. “You coverin’ him all night long or just until the sizzle fizzles out?”
“It ain’t gonna fizzle with that one.” Mac appeared next to Allister then. “What’s your date’s name?”
“Ya takin’ notes?”
“Do I need to?” Mac fired back.
“You always were the pushy McCall. Don’t ‘cha have anything better to do than devil me today?”
“Not really,” Mac replied, grinning. “Want me to come down and wait with you?”
“Absolutely not,” Markie fired back, brushing off his shoulders. “The last thing I need is another man intimidated because he feels inferior to a McCall.”
“Ah now, come on Markie. Turnabout is fair play. How many times did you try to run off our dates, dishing out kisses and winks, calling us sugar and patting our asses?”
“Man’s got a point,” Allister said.
About that time, Markie’s phone buzzed. He looked down at the message and grinned. “Special is right on time.”
“Special?” Allister frowned. “Have you already been out with this fella?”
“No, it’s his Manlist ID and I like it.”
Mac threw his rifle over the wall and fiddled with his sights.
“What the bloody hell do ya think you’re doin’?” Markie swatted at air, indicating Mac should drop his weapon.
“I’m setting my sights on you so I can get a good look at this Special.”
“Give up his name, Markie,” Allister said. “You know the rules. If anyone goes off property, we need names and numbers.”
“I don’t have a name other than Special.”
Allister said something under his breath. Mac fiddled with the gun’s sights again.
“Please, fellas. How do ya think I’m gonna explain this when he arrives?” Markie glanced at his phone again. His date would be turning the corner down the street in another minute or so. Once he took that curve, he’d easily spot the guardhouse.
“Dude driving a limo?” Harley leaned over the wall next, shoving what looked like the last of a brownie in between his lips.
“Yes, why?”
“Markie’s moving up in the world!” Allister sang, slapping Harley on the back.
The boys were all laughing and smiling and Markie couldn’t help but stop his bitching and stand back and admire the young men he’d come to think of as his brothers, too. “Ah well, shucks.” He shooed them away. “Boys will be boys. Have your fun now. Paybacks are a trained bitch when I’m in control, my sweet fellas.”
“Go on now, Markie,” Allister called out, nodding at the limo. “Just tell Special that Mac here has a nervous trigger finger and he’d better keep that in mind.”
Markie threw his hand up in the air and added an extra sway to his hips as he made his way toward the car. The chauffeur leapt from the driver’s seat and opened the back door.
“Oh, why thank you.” Markie fluttered his eyelashes and looked the young hunk up and down, quickly coming to the assumption he was staring at one fine piece of available ass.
“Have fun, hon!” Allister called out, clearly taunting him in much the same manner he had once teased all the McCall brothers. “Curfew’s at ten!”
“Move out of the way, Markie!” Mac called out, clearly determined to get a good look at Markie’s date.
Markie waved once more and leaned inside the limo. Locking eyes with Special, he said, “You’re a pretty sharp cookie. My buddy was trying to scope you out.”
“Not much for brutes,” the guy said, clearly one himself.
“I see,” Markie said, sitting down and letting the chauffeur close the door behind him. “Oh wait. I had something I wanted to tell them.” He tried to open the door and failed. He swallowed back the nervous tickle in his throat and asked, “Am I locked in?”
“Looks like it,” the fellow said, removing his sunglasses and glaring at Markie with an unforgettable sneer. He stood up as much as possible and kept his head low as he crept toward Markie.
By then, the wheels were in motion, and the car was whipping around in front of Trouble’s main gates. “First things first.” He thrust his hand in Markie’s front pocket and grabbed his cell phone. “You won’t need this.”
“What do ya think you’re doing?” Markie screeched as he tried to grab his phone from his date’s hand. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough and he damn sure wasn’t prepared.
After Special retrieved his phone, he threw one hard sucker punch and knocked Markie out cold.
Chapter Three
They’d enjoyed a nice dinner and good wine. The evening couldn’t have been going any better, until Draegan wheeled into the parking lot at the new nightclub in Drover and just had that gut-wrenching feeling.
Maybe it was because the mob ha
d once owned the club or perhaps it was because he didn’t travel beyond Trouble’s gates much anymore. Whatever it was, that gnawing sensation grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go. No matter how many times he scanned the parking lot, the results were always the same—he came up empty-handed.
“Something wrong, Draegan?” Serena was suddenly on guard, too. “Did you see someone you know?”
“I wasn’t looking for anyone,” he assured her, pulling her across the seat and giving her the kind of kiss with the potential to lead somewhere.
She returned it with fervor, framing his face with her small hands as she thrust her greedy tongue inside his mouth and just stirred all sorts of trouble with her heady kiss. It was all he could do to stay seated when all he wanted to do then was grope her right there in the well-lit parking lot.
After several seconds, he pulled back and stared down the wide bridge of his nose at the prettiest little lady he’d ever held in his arms. “Whoever just jumped into you—be it a vixen or a seductress on a mission—you’d better let her back in when I take you home later tonight.”
“You’re rotten to the core, Draegan McCall,” she whispered, planting another kiss on his lips.
This time, he looped his arm around her waist and swung her back over to her bucket seat, towering over her and hating himself for bringing a vehicle with a console between the seats. He’d wanted to act all upscale and civilized so he’d brought the Corvette. Now he was wishing for one of the pickup trucks or at the very least, Trouble’s van.
Thinking about the van then made him half-hard. He would’ve had his way with one beautiful woman if he’d been a bit bold and driven “the love wagon.” He grinned at the thought.
Serena pressed her fingers to his lips. “What were you thinking just then?”
He reached around her hips and hit the seat lever, definitely disappointed when it only slanted a tad. “That’s the problem with these cars. There isn’t a lot of play in the reclining option.”
Nipping at his mouth, she reached between their bodies and to his surprise, she made the first move. Cupping his sac, she gently pushed up on his balls, toying with him.
Trouble Travels in Threes [Trouble, Tennessee 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2
