Acres, Natalie - Sex Club [Cowboy Sex 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (38 page)

Ansley dug through her purse and retrieved a makeup compact. She really needed to quit thinking about sex all the time. Her thought process wasn’t normal. Sex on the brain twenty-four-seven wasn’t healthy.

Uh-huh. Right.
Then how could she explain the dampness between her legs? Why were her nipples burning, her breasts throbbing?

She dotted her lips with plum-colored gloss and jumped out of the car. She swiped her tongue across her mouth and shuddered. “Yum,” she hummed as she strolled by the two brothers. Adding a few extra shakes to her wiggle, she hurried over to Brock.

At the very least, her sister’s husband provided a distraction. She didn’t look at him and see the conductor of an erotic sex train heading south for an exciting adventure.

There went her dirty mind derailing again.

“Ansley,” Brock said, using an authoritative tone that made her wince. Surely he hadn’t kept a keen eye on his rearview mirror. At least she hoped not.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, acting glad to see him again so soon. “You really don’t have to go out of your way for us tonight. I’m fine. These guys have my back.”

Brock stared at her head. Self-consciously, she smoothed her hand over her hair and felt her skin heat when he laughed. “Fun ride?”

“Best I’ve ever enjoyed.”

He cleared his throat. “Save the details. I really don’t want to know.”

“Are you sure?” she teased. “You know Trixie will ask you what I’ve been up to, and since my sisters and Patience are out of town, you can pretend you’re one of my gal pals. You know what they say…it’s a brother-in-law’s responsibility to be—”

“Ansley, please. We have more important events to discuss,” he said, blowing her off as Graham and Elliott walked up to join them.

“Thanks for seeing us out here,” Elliott said.

“Yeah, Brock. We appreciate you,” Graham added. “Listen, would you mind keeping Ansley in the car while we take a look around inside?”

“I’d like to take a quick sweep of the property myself,” Brock said. “If one of you will stay with Ansley, I want to double-check the security system. I know a little bit about wiring and security alarms. Give me ten or fifteen minutes, and then I’ll motion for you.”

“Ansley, you’re with me,” Bailey volunteered as he and Tristan walked toward them. He quickly turned around and faced Tristan. Waggling his brows, he added, “I’m happy to keep her company.”

“What a trooper,” Tristan muttered, slipping a kiss on her cheek before drawing the club keys from his front pocket. “Let’s go, fellas.”

Brock frowned. “No hanky-panky, Ansley. I have to play around with the entire security system. Don’t give me an eyeful.”

“I wouldn’t dream of putting on a show,” she grumbled, glad he mentioned the fact.

Brock’s nose twitched. Unexpectedly, he said, “Graham, why don’t you stay with Bailey and Ansley, too? I don’t like the idea of leaving them alone. They’re sitting ducks out here. It would be easy for Jordie Anne to ambush them if, by chance, she’s watching from the trees.”

Graham strolled over to Ansley. Tilting her chin toward his, he said, “Why, Brock, you know I’d rather be out here with my lady than inside following your ugly ass.”

Brock grunted. Seconds later, Tristan and Elliott trailed behind Brock, and they disappeared out of sight.

“You always loved crawling under his skin,” Ansley said, dropping a kiss on Graham’s lips.

A worrisome wrinkle crinkled Bailey’s brow. “I take it you and Brock are friends?”

Graham winked at Ansley. “I don’t know if I’d call us friends, exactly.”

“Oh yes you are!” she exclaimed, laughing.

“I can’t rightly say,” Graham drawled. “The man has been threatening me since I was seventeen years old.”

A smile tugged at her lips. She fondly recalled Graham’s first run-in with Brock. Trixie had just started seeing him. Their parents were out of town and, thinking Trixie would be occupied for the night, Ansley and Kimberly threw a wild party down in the lower fields.

At some point during the early morning hours, one hell of a thunderstorm set in and partygoers moved inside the Cartwell home. The next morning, Brock and Rory handed out plastic bags and turned their guests into a cleanup crew.

Graham grumbled the whole time, and Brock took up with him, practically holding his hand as he guided him through the pastures, insisting that he walk every inch of land picking up bottles and cans. He lectured him the entire time, and after that, Ansley couldn’t remember Graham drinking a beer. He always said he’d wait to turn up the bottle when he was of legal drinking age. That way, he could have a good time and someone else could clean up the mess.

“Wow, seventeen, huh?” Bailey asked, a note of envy in his voice. “Must’ve been something, growing up with Ansley while Brock looked over your shoulder.”

“It was something, all right,” Graham muttered. “I can’t say Brock’s supervision brought about positive experiences, exactly, but it was an adventure whenever we were dodging both of Ansley’s brothers-in-law.”

Ansley reached for Bailey’s hand while looping her free arm through Graham’s. Squeezing Bailey’s fingers, she made a suggestion. “What do you say we get out of here?”

Graham copped a smile. “What do you have in mind?”

“Do you still rent extra pastureland?” she asked, remembering the Killians always had property under lease in case they needed additional grass for grazing.

“Yeah, I do,” Graham replied. “We’ve got a place down the road a piece, come to think of it.”

“You don’t say,” Bailey sang.

“Then why are we standing here?” Ansley asked. “Let’s go!”

* * * *

Jordie Anne’s assumption proved accurate. After she successfully ambushed Ansley Cartwell and her men, they fled The Grove Park Inn. As suspected, Ansley and her gang showed up at the club.

She’d taken a gamble and, after considering all the reasons why they were at The Grove Park Inn in the first place, decided they were there because of the security in place. After their location was compromised, where else could they go in the middle of the night?

Thank goodness she followed her gut instinct.

Brock’s vehicle had led the way, and he’d stopped at the guard shack. Since it was the weekend and after hours, he’d let himself in, unlocking the padlock on the bright-red metal gate.

Her heart had skipped three beats as she’d watched him. He was still as handsome as she remembered. In front of his headlights, Brock looked like he’d maintained his heavenly physique. His outer appearance was pretty much the same. Age had been kind, but he still had that cute boyish habit of raking his fingers through his locks in an effort to keep his hair part at the side.

After the other cars fell in line behind his, Jordie Anne jogged through the woods, tripping over a couple of logs as she hurriedly rushed the club, hoping she could sneak inside before anyone spotted her. She wanted to surprise Brock.

Then, her plans suddenly changed.

Brock and a couple of others entered the building. Soon, it became obvious that Ansley didn’t plan to wait around. Watching from the trees, Jordie Anne tried to overhear the conversation as she talked to the two men left behind.

Jordie Anne’s pulse became rapid, ticking quickly against her wrist. “Oh it can’t be. It can’t be,” she whispered. Were they going to lead her to Brock’s house? Had Brock told them to wait at his place? Darn! She wished she knew what they were saying.

Realizing they planned to leave, Jordie Anne sprinted through the woods again, jumping over branches and ignoring the twigs scratching her arms. As the slamming of car doors resounded around her, she realized she didn’t have a moment to spare.

By the time she saw automobile headlights beaming down a gravel path, she was seated behind the wheel of her—Mae’s—car. As their vehicle sped past her, she fell in behind them. If they noticed her, the driver never stepped on the brakes.

When they reached the main road, Jordie Anne gave them a few seconds to drive ahead. Then she hit her lights, laid a heavy foot to the pedal, and caught up with them without much effort.

A few miles down the road, Jordie Anne saw them pull off the state highway. She passed them without making her interest obvious, stretching her neck and all that nonsense, but she did happen to notice only a short chain was draped over a narrow entrance leading into a thatch of trees with sweeping branches and full bushes.

Jordie Anne found a place to turn around and, a minute later, parked at a gas station maybe a hundred feet from where she last saw their automobile. Approaching on foot, Jordie Anne located the dirt road where Ansley and her men disappeared. She cursed under her breath as she marched into the dark area. How stupid could she have been? For all she knew, she was walking into the heart of danger.

As the sounds of the Southern woods enveloped her, she stuck her hand in the top of her handbag, clutching the butt of her gun. A coyote’s call sent shivers down her spine, and she picked up her pace, wondering then if she had allowed her madness to lead her into death’s forest, the place where she’d spend the final seconds of her life.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The wheels were still rolling when Ansley leapt from the car. By the time the engine was killed, Ansley stood in front of the headlights, stripping off her clothes. Bailey and Graham were practically foaming at the mouth, or at least drooling, by the time they approached her.

“You are a naughty little vixen,” Bailey said, yanking her naked form against his hard body. With the limited lighting, his green eyes looked darker, nearly jade in color.

“You have no idea,” she crooned, rubbing her fingertips over his lips.

A low, carnal growl sent shivers up and down her spine as Graham stepped behind her. Gripping her hips, he moved her back and forth, pressing his denim-clad cock against her bottom. He pushed her toward Bailey and then slowly dragged her away.

Bailey looped his arm around her body, greedily devouring her breasts as he held her against him, his cock twitching in his breeches as he mashed his hard length against her pelvis.

Showing her appreciation, she tossed her arms over his shoulders and kissed him, her tongue wedging its place inside his mouth as she shook her hips, trying her best to tempt the one standing behind her. Bailey guided her hand between his legs, pressing her palm against his groin. Breaking their sealed connection, he said, “There you go, sweetheart. Do your thing.”

Ansley’s heart raced as her fingers slid into action, working with his belt, button, and zipper. Shoving her hand inside his tight briefs, she gripped his cock. Rocking forward and back, she let her fingers drift up and down, slow and easy.

Behind her, Graham shifted. The scratching sound of a zipper’s release made her nipples spike.

“We don’t have all day, remember,” Bailey said, winking.

“What would you enjoy more?” she asked, arching a brow.

Rubbernecking around her body, Bailey looked at Graham. Twisting his mouth as if he were contemplating the best positions, he said, “Come here, honey. I’ll show you what I want.”

Leading her, Bailey pulled her to the rear of the vehicle. Opening the hatch, he kicked off his shoes, peeled off his clothing, and sat, naked only from the waist down.

Scooting back, he splayed his legs, and in a gruff voice, he said, “Bend over. Give Graham that pretty little ass. And let me give you something to sip on.”

Her fingers immediately stroked his balls. With his palms flat against his hips, Bailey thrust forward as her mouth enveloped him.

“Fuck,” he rasped, sliding across her tongue.