Acres, Natalie - Sex Addict [Cowboy Addiction 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (10 page)

“There at the end, I didn’t go because I was scared. I was a coward. I’m just lucky I had men like you and Kit for brothers, men like Blake and Grant for lovers.”

Kemper playfully covered his ears. “I told you I don’t want to hear about that.”

She laughed. “They’re your best friends. I’m sure they’ve mentioned me a time or two.”

“Sure they have,” he said, winking. “And Kit told them both if they ever mention doing the nasty with you, he’ll bar them from using our basement.”

“Then I guess they never breathe my name.”

“They must have some kind of time down there. I wouldn’t know. I don’t stand at the door with my ear pressed against the wooden panels.”

“You knew I did that?”

“Why do you think Kit and I stopped dating when you were a junior in high school?”

“I figured no woman wanted you. Lord knows, you’d tried enough of them. They always came and went. Holly is the only gal I can remember sticking around for longer than a week.”

“That’s not true. Mona was here one summer. That gorgeous lady from New Orleans, what was her name? Oh yeah, Peggy Ann. She stayed two months.” Kemper looked toward the fields. “But you’re right. I have a feeling Holly will be around for years to come if Kit doesn’t scare her off first.”

“Then what are you doing with me? If I were you, I’d go supervise her training. A submissive wants to know she’s adored and cherished as much as any other woman. And she wants to feel safe. Depending on how Kit handles her, she may not feel as protected as what you might think. That basement is pretty intimidating.” A beat later, she added, “A submissive longs for security, Kemper. She wants to know she has a rock, a solid foundation to support her. Always remember that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Kemper,” she replied, squeezing his arm. “And I have a feeling you’ll provide plenty of support without a lot of effort. You’re in love with her.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Hmm, you might be right.”

“I’m seldom wrong.”

“We won’t go there,” he said firmly.

“There you go again, making me accountable for past actions.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“You’re right. I would.”

As Kemper walked away, Morgan watched him. She had chosen not to pry, but based on the loud conversations she’d overheard, she understood Holly’s imperfections. Her past must’ve been a torrid one for Kit to become so enraged.

Unfortunately, her brothers, given their eclectic choices in pastime activities, probably didn’t understand the magnitude of sex addiction. Based on what Morgan had learned, Holly was a sex addict. And her addiction, if unattended, could be just as damning and deadly as Morgan’s crystal meth problem.

Holly needed help. She felt confident Kit would eventually be able to give her the support she needed. That is, if he first viewed Holly’s issues as a sickness, as a real problem he and Kemper needed to address.

* * * *

Holly squeezed her knees together as she tried to draw the dildo higher inside her pussy. Kit had been coming and going all afternoon, and each time he left her to play with a new toy.

The latest gadget was long and lean, not at all a selection she might have made. The end was pointed more like a cone than shaped like a cockhead. Holly much preferred the soft mushroom crest. Then again, an artificial dick paled in comparison to the real thing.

Sliding her bottom up and down, she tried to gyrate, move her hips as the dildo buried inside her. This wasn’t any fun. This was going nowhere fast. And she needed to come.

At the top of her lungs, she screamed, “I’m not getting anything out of this!”

She strained to hear any kind of noise. What she’d give to listen to Kemper’s heavy footsteps walking toward her. She was willing to bet she could convince him to fuck her.

Thinking of Kemper then, her mind traveled back to the past, tossing her into the year before. The night he and Kit walked into the club, changed her life. She’d known it from the moment she set eyes on them. They were there for the dancers, for the strippers they wanted to see. But they would go home with her.

She still remembered Kemper shyly asking her to dance for him. She’d tried to convince him to pay for a shower dance, certain if he saw her completely nude he’d want to take her home. Little did she know how quickly he’d become aroused by a simple lap dance.

Her body pulsed around the toy inside her as she recalled slipping over his lap. She’d placed her hands on his shoulder and moved with the music, swaying to the left or right, working her body around him like she was ready to soar, absolutely certain to take flight.

The dance performed was illegal by club standards. She’d hoisted herself up over him at one point, making sure he caught a whiff of her pussy as she practically nudged him with her mound. By the time she was done with him, drool was practically rolling off his chin.

Maybe that was a little extreme.

Still, she’d done her job and made him cream his pants.

A door slammed in the distance. She was instantly aware of someone’s presence. Her daydreams slipped away. “Kemper?”

“Kit,” he mumbled, pushing the curtain out of his way.

She took a deep breath and said, “Thank God. If you don’t come on over here and fuck me, you and I are certain to have serious problems.”

His eyes danced with pure mischief. “Promise?”

Chapter Nine

Kit sat on the side of his sleigh bed about an hour later. He was as sexually frustrated as he’d ever been and normally would’ve manhandled his growing problem. He stopped short of reaching for his cock when his thoughts turned to Holly and how she’d responded to the first round of training exercises.

She’d been a demanding little siren when he’d gone downstairs to check on her. She’d ordered him to fuck her, and he’d thought about it. Then, he’d considered his truest reasons for placing her in submissive training in the first place.

Holly needed to learn self-control. She needed to think about something other than her own selfish demands for around-the-clock sex. If Kit gave in and met her requests whenever she made them, what was he saying to her? What was he teaching her? Who was, in turn, submissive to whom?

He wondered then how she’d held down a job in the past. If what he’d discovered about Holly were true, he wasn’t sure how she’d been able to function in a professional setting. How much sex had she needed? How much had she craved? How frequent were her liaisons prior to meeting them? How much did her unhealthy desire for sex interfere with her day-to-day activities?

Then again, he mused, look at what she did for a living. Hell, she could’ve given lap dances and gotten off without the clients ever knowing she’d given them theirs and taken her own pleasures, too.

Anger took hold and for a minute, the rage settled in his gut. Other men had viewed his Holly. Other guys sat under her as she’d danced all over them, her body pouring over strangers like a sudden rain. His jealousy got the best of him, and he clenched his fists and ground his teeth.

What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He picked her up in a nightclub, and not just any club! He’d pulled her out of a gentleman’s club and promised her a good time. He hadn’t sworn to love her. He hadn’t promised her a better life, but somewhere along the way, all of that happened and he’d been good to her. He’d treated Holly better than he’d ever treated any other woman. That is, until…Oh God, he couldn’t bear to think it.

Yes, he’d been cruel to Holly, too.

The very second his suspicions were confirmed, he shifted gears. He changed overnight. Actually, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he made a sudden transformation. Once his fears were confirmed, he just lost it. How he responded to the news was a blow now, too. He was angry as soon as he’d received the e-mail about Holly’s past, but even then, he couldn’t make a clean break. He couldn’t order her out and tell her not to come back because he had to do the unthinkable first.

He wanted to fuck her one last time, take one for the road so to speak, but not for the foolish reasons a normal man might claim. His desire for her wasn’t entirely physical. He needed the emotional connection, the intimacy he only felt with Holly.

So he made love to her. He screwed her because the thought of letting her go without knowing the touch of her skin once more had been like a shot through the heart.

He couldn’t resist lingering between her soft thighs one last time, and even then, even when he was swearing her off, telling her to leave and daring her to try and come back, he knew she wouldn’t go. He realized he wouldn’t let her go—because he couldn’t.

A surge of guilt washed over him then. Holly had a problem, and how had he handled his discovery? He’d been angry and responded to her with pure fury driving him.

He should’ve been ashamed of himself. Holly had a legitimate issue with sex, and he was a jackass. To add to the insults, what did he do? He forced his lifestyle practices down her throat. In a sense, he was using sex to cure what may have been a sex addiction.

He shook his head. He refused to think of Domination and submission as just sex. He knew better. Prior to Holly, he’d lived within the lifestyle. When he and Kemper were with Mona, he’d learned what he liked, what he expected, and had vowed to never settle for anything less.

Then along came Holly.

One mention of bondage or submission and she’d immediately shot down their goals and informed them she wasn’t interested. He wondered then why she’d been so adamant about staying away from the things they most enjoyed. Had she used what she knew they needed to gain some sort of twisted leverage?

Maybe she’d held out, realizing one day they might long for something different to spice up their love life. Perhaps she understood stepping into her rightful role as his submissive would place a spark under a live fuse.

He snickered, and what started out as light laughter soon turned into an outright chuckle. God, how he loved that woman. Yes, finally! He was ready to admit it to himself and maybe even to Holly. He loved her.

Maybe it was time he told her how he felt. Then he could stop acting like a spoiled child whenever things didn’t go his way.

Then again, he was just a man. What more could a woman expect when a fellow didn’t get his way? Guys had long since been the butt of jokes often told by females. They were accused of being immature. They were said to be overgrown boys, babies at times.

He stood. Well, by damned, he didn’t like it.

Yes, he’d behaved badly. He’d treated Holly poorly while he came to terms with questions the past raised. Now, he’d found acceptance.

Holly’s past didn’t matter. The future, however, was another story.

Kit wouldn’t be able to survive without the woman he loved. Soon, he’d tell her all about that. For now, he was going to check on the little vixen. Based on the way he last left her, he had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t be too happy to see him.

* * * *

The basement was dark except for one bright, yellow lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Kemper flipped on the main overhead lights and stared at his sub.

Sitting on the wooden plank with a ball gag in her mouth, Holly’s hands were behind her back and her feet were tied. She mumbled around the gag, and Kemper thought she looked adorable as she strained to say something, and he could only imagine what. By the rapid muttering, she wasn’t too happy with her current predicament.

Carefully, he removed the headgear holding the ball in place and took a step back. “Last I heard, you were screaming at the top of your lungs.”

“Yes, well, I guess someone wanted to prove a point,” she said, her lips parched and cracked. “Do you think I could have a drink of water?”

“Sure,” he said, eyeing the nearby refrigerator. “If you can ask politely.”

“Please, Sir,” she drawled sarcastically. “May I have a drink of water?”

“I’ll be happy to get it for you,” Kemper said, retrieving an eight-ounce plastic container.

He set the bottle at her feet and released the emergency button on the handcuffs. Then, he untied her feet. She immediately went for the beverage as soon as she could move about freely.

“Where’s Kit?” she asked.

“Why? Do you miss him already?”

“No, I hope I don’t see him the rest of the day.”

“I heard that,” Kit said, stepping out of the shadows.

“Where’d you come from?” Kemper asked, looking behind him.

“I’ve been over there,” he said, pointing to the far wall. “I wouldn’t leave her down here without some means of escape. What if someone broke in the place? What if the house caught on fire?”

“You were upstairs,” Kemper informed him.

“For about a minute,” Kit agreed, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ve been left in worse places, I suppose,” Holly admitted. “But I never thought one of you would leave me alone in a dark and dangerous room far away from civilization!”

“Oh, the theatrics,” Kemper drawled.

“What do you mean ‘you’ve been left in worse places?’” Kit asked, his brow furrowing.