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Authors: D.L. Roan

Second Chances (27 page)

BOOK: Second Chances
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Within
seconds the back doors of the car opened and four burly men piled out onto the street that made his own hired guns look like kindergarten teachers. No matter. It would be suicide if they so much as breathed in his direction. He was untouchable and planned to keep it that way.

As the goons took their positions around the car, a fifth man emerged into the darkness, straightening his tie and dusting the kinks from his tailored tuxedo.

Stupid, cocksucking politicians.
He was in the wrong business. Running smack and smuggling in whores from third world countries paid jack shit compared to the free money these lazy assholes in monkey suits pulled in. They always thought they were better than everyone, like their shit smelled like fucking roses. Still, they always came to him when they wanted something. Well, until recently they went to Gabriella’s father, Hector Morganti, but it was all his now and it was time to make a different kind of deal. Sure, he was the one coming to them. What that slimy bastard didn’t know was that Hector kept very detailed records of all his transactions and Lucian had hid them away very carefully when the stupid bastard finally got caught. Regardless of their rolls in this little meeting, he would definitely be the one calling all the shots.

“Lucian,” the slimebag greeted him with a cocky nod.

“Senator.”

“I understand that I have something you need.
How fortunate for me.”

Lucian relaxed when he saw the Senator’s cocky smirk morph into a full blown smile.
How fortunate, indeed.
“So I’ve heard.” He had no idea who he was dealing with. Lighting a cigar, Lucian carelessly tossed the match into street and leaned one hip casually against the front fender of his own sedan.


Exactly how fortunate, Lucian? I haven’t the time or the patience for games.”

Lucian took a puff on his cigar and expelled the bitter sweet snuff
into the damp night air as he studied the Senator and his men. “Depends on what you think you have. We both know if what you have for me is, in fact, what you say it is, I would only offer what you desire most.” Holding back a grin, Lucian saw the glazed look cross the Senator’s face.
Always refreshing to know some things never changed.
He tilted his head and took in the Senator’s stance. “Blond hair, blue eyes, about three, maybe three foot two to be exact?” Lucian purred as he sized up just how low the perv hung.
Only a bastard would get off on fucking a kid.
Little did the piece of shit know his desires were about to change.

The Senator
’s twisted libido didn’t let him down. “Our latest Intel suggests southwest Montana; possibly a hickhole by the name of Grassland. Once the trial concluded she fell off the radar completely and, as far as I know, no one is looking into it.”

Lucian felt a tendril of adrenaline rush through his veins. This was it. He was
close and he knew it. Gabriella would be on her knees begging him, fucking his cock with those sweet lips before the week was out.

“I’ll expect the delivery by the weekend, Lucian. Not one day later. Understood?”

Lost in his own lustful thoughts, it took a moment for Lucian to comprehend the good Senator’s words. “Oh, Senator. Just one more thing.”  Lucian stopped the Senator as he turned back toward the open door of his Town Car. He took several steps to close the gap between them, ignoring the two goons that tensed and stepped into view. “There will be no delivery, this weekend, or any other time, until I receive your usual deposit.”

“Now listen here…”

“Ah-ah, Senator. Now is the time for you to listen, not talk.” Lucian stepped up until, even in the dark, he could see the whites of the cowards eyes as they widened in shock and anger. “As I was saying. There will be no delivery unless you count the copy of your…let’s call it a purchase history, shall we? I’ll have a copy hand delivered to you on Monday, just so you know that your account is up to date. Of course, if you have an extra fifty thousand lying around, I could probably round up something with an ethnic feel to
him
. We all know little blond boys cost more.”

“You son of a bitch.
You’ll pay for this.”

“I highly doubt that,
Senator Collins.
Your desires run deep. I’m sure you and I will be doing a lot of business together, and I will be the only one collecting a fee.” Lucian turned on his heel toward his car but stopped and faced the Senator again. “Of course, if your information leads me to what I seek, I might just feel generous enough to give you that blond trinket after all.”

 

********************************

 

The ride back to the barn had been interesting, to say the least. More like torturous if she had to actually describe it in one word. Between her wet panties, soaked through to her jeans, chaffing her thighs, and the constant nudge of the plug in her anus that came with every rocking, agonizingly slow step good old trusty Biscuit took, she’d nearly gone out of her mind with need before the house or barn came into view.

Her body temperature seemed to be stuck on
inferno
. Her breasts were heavy and swollen, the lacy, cotton bra she’d worn raked like talons against her sensitive nipples. Her muscles seemed to be confused, constantly morphing between languid and tense, relaxed and then pulsing with need until she could feel another climax approaching, and then calmed again as if they’d gone numb.

Every look, no matter how simple or genuine, the brothers gave her sent
a throbbing ache to her pelvis that only served to amp up the ache in her backside. There wasn’t pain so much as an ever increasing discomfort from both the unusual fullness and constant arousal.

Grey had taken pity on her and had carried her cradled in his lap for the last half hour of the journey. He’d offered to stop and take it out but she wouldn’t let him. The more she thoug
ht about it, and truly she’d barely thought about anything else, the more she wanted it. She wanted to make love to them, to hold them all within her for as long as she had them. If she could only get off this morbid, moving, torturous beast!

“What the hel
l?” Mason swung his leg over his saddle and jumped from his horse before it had stopped at the barn.

“What’s wrong?” Claira asked as Grey stopped his horse at the gate and swung down from his saddle.

The hair on the back of Grey’s neck stood on end. He reached up and lifted Claira from the saddle and set her on her feet. “Matt is back already.”

A wave of relief washed over her. “Thank God,” she sighed. “
That was quicker than eight hours. He must not have made too many stops.”

Grey’s hand skimmed along the top of the hood of Matt’s truck as they passed by on the way to the house. “It’s cold. He’s been back a while.”

Relief was quickly replaced by worry as Grey tugged her up the steps and through the front door. The smell of vomit and Clorox filled the air and Claira instantly knew something had gone terribly wrong on their trip.

“Matt, you ok?” Mason rounded the top of the stairs and headed for the upstairs bathroom where more miserable retching sounds echoed off
the porcelain. “Oh, no! Oh, that’s gross. What the hell happened?”

Matt looked up fro
m the toilet as he wiped Con’s face with a dampened towel. The look on his face showed his sheer exhaustion. “I stopped and got the boys some breakfast on the way out of town and within an hour they were puking it back up. No way could I make the next three hours.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to just leave them their sick so I turned around and came back home. Here, rinse your mouth out, buddy.” He handed Con a cup of water and watched him swish like he’d showed him and spit in the toilet.

“How long have you been back?” Grey squatted down and put his hand on Car’s little forehead. He was sweaty and clammy and look
ed every bit as pitiful as Con.

“A few hours.
Must have pulled in right after you guys rode out. Didn’t see much need in interrupting your day.” He ran a hand through his own sweaty hair and gave a flirty wink to Claira.

She felt her face turn crimson and she beca
me painfully aware of the plug in her rear. She pulled Mason to the side in the hallway. “You have to help me take this thing out.” She tried to keep her voice low so Grey and the kids couldn’t hear. Mason chuckled and tugged her toward his bedroom.

A few hours later Matt stumbled down the stairs and out onto the front porch, freshly showered but completely worn out. After a day like today he wanted nothing more than to sit back in the porch swing in his bare feet and snuggle in close to their woman while Mason and Grey took charge of cleaning up the mess.

Their Woman.
He honestly didn’t believe he would ever be saying that again. It was never something he’d thought about, really. Now that she was here, it amazed him that they had even been able to breathe for the last six years. God knew they hadn’t really been livin’. Not like Sarah would have wanted. The anger over what she’d done was still fresh, but somehow it seemed to make sense. It was just like her to stick her chin out to the world and just do what she’d wanted to do. She lived life on her terms, and now it seemed they were getting some of that will to live.

“Hey, darlin’.”
He blew out a breath as he slid into the swing next to Claira and pulled her legs up and over his lap. “I’m sorry about our plans tonight.”

Claira leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his bare shoulder. He wore only a pair of faded wranglers, no shirt or shoes. His hair was still damp and he was sporting the stubble of a fresh, new goat-tee. She liked it. “Please don’t be sorry. Your boys come first. I completely understand. Besides, we had all that time to ourselves while you were here by yourself dealing with sick twins. I feel sort of guilty.”

Matt laughed and rubbed his hand down her back. “Well, you shouldn’t, but if you insist I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me.” His eyebrows jumped in his signature playful way and she couldn’t help but laugh.

The setting sun cast a red glow on his tanned skin as s
he looked up at him, studying his features, wrapping her arms under her thighs. She couldn’t believe he had been so open and thoughtful about not calling them. “There really is no jealousy between you three, is there?”

Matt shook his head
and reached up to wrap one of her soft curls around his finger. “Nope. Not with you.” He studied her for a moment wondering how else he could explain their feelings to her. “It’s not just a sexual preference, darlin’. Although I have to say watchin’ one or both of my brothers make you come ‘til your screamin’ all our names is one hell of a turn on for me.” Claira blushed a beautiful rose color and the thoughts he’d just expressed morphed into Technicolor in his mind.

Tamping down his arousal
, he focused on the curled clip of hair he was fingering. “There was a time when I thought this way,
our
way, of life was…awkward. Then one day I noticed how many kids around us never had a homemade lunch they brought to school, how many didn’t have parents that showed up at baseball and footballs games. Some of our friends growin’ up only had one parent. Even those that had two were home alone more than not because their parents worked crazy hours just to pay the bills.” Matt shrugged. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Bein’ able to hang out at my friend’s house with no parents around was awesome, sometimes, but I couldn’t imagine what that would be like every day.”

Mat
t let go of the stray curl and entwined his fingers with hers. “With the three of us, we can provide our wife and our kids with more love and support than they can possibly imagine. With our mom and three dads, we always felt safe and loved. Some of the kids growin’ up had a few snarky comments and opinions about us, most of which came from their stuck up parents, but most of our friends were actually a little envious.”

Claira thought about what he was saying and from a psychological stand point she could find no fault in his thinking. She’d witnessed the outcome with her own eyes. Their boys were extremely well adjusted
and no one man had the sole responsibility of providing for them all. But one question kept niggling at her. “Does it ever bother you that your brothers might have…” Claira shrugged, unsure of how to word her concern. “Do you ever feel insecure, or does your male pride, or ego, or…whatever get stepped on sometimes and you fight?”

Matt chuckled. “That’s a good question, but not really. I mean, we argue and fuss just like any normal family but not the usual macho caveman type stuff you’re thinking of. We all have our own relationship with the twins…” he paused and kissed the tip of her nose. “
with you. But we’re also a family, with the same love and family ties that other traditional families have.” He chuckled again and dipped his head toward her. “Now that you mention it, though, I’m going to have to one up Grey on that hickey you’re sportin’.” He pulled at the collar of her shirt and traced the small bruise. “Jealous we’re not, but competitive doesn’t even begin to describe our family.”

Claira looked down at the little
, purple spot on her shoulder and her cheeks heated with embarrassment. She’d hurried through her shower so that she could be available to help with the twins, but they’d been such a well-oiled machine working together that she finally came to sit on the porch so she’d be out of their way. She never noticed the small bite Grey had given her last night. Her body heated at the memory and she pulled the shirt over to cover it.

BOOK: Second Chances
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ads

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