Enemy Lovers (11 page)

Pleasure strummed every nerve ending. Fierce and free, she soared free, a kite riding the breeze. She rose and dipped, pulsed and quivered with each touch. His hot breath blew over her clit, the faint touch echoing in the pulse of her womb. Then he tugged on the chain connecting her breasts and heat roared like a beast—intense and scary, almost too much to bear.

She cried out, desperate for the final nudge to send her flying. Dallas knew how she felt because finally, finally he closed his mouth over her clit and sucked while tugging on the chain between her breasts. Pleasure exploded, splashing color across the back of her eyelids, grabbing and twisting every nerve ending in her body. She sobbed, quivering, the pulses of her channel going on and on as her vagina clutched the vibrator. The pleasure hit a plateau and receded, her senses quieting.

Dallas switched off the vibrator and removed it, leaving her empty. One at a time, he released her nipples from the clamps and soothed her with his hot mouth, helping her through the rush of blood to the tender peaks.

When his lips closed over hers, gentle and achingly tender, tears welled in her eyes.

When he lifted his head, for an instant she felt bereft. A familiar crackle of foil had her pulse rushing again.

The mattress shifted as she imaged his body rising over hers, then her breath burst out and she knew she was right. His hard cock pushing into her was like coming home.

His loving continued at the same slow pace, each stroke measured as if he were testing himself too. In and out. Every thrust nudged her clit and anticipation resurged in her when she'd thought she had nothing further to give.

He ceased his thrusts, remained fully embedded in her, and kissed her with the same even strokes of his tongue as he paid homage to her mouth. He lifted his head and the rough pads of his fingers stroked her cheek. “I could do this all night.”

So could she. She could do this for the rest of her life. But she didn't voice the words for fear of breaking the magical spell binding them together.

One more soft kiss and he pulled back, plunging into her again with a rapid stroke. Faster now as if he'd reached the end of his patience. He slid a hand between them, brushed her clit with a finger, his touch shoving her into another sharp climax.

“Dallas,” she whispered against his neck, part of her aching to hold his shuddering body. He gasped, gave two hard thrusts and groaned. Tremors racked his body, and her arms fought the bonds, instinct making her want to nurture. He remained in place for a few seconds longer before pulling out of her. The latex of the condom snapped and the ropes binding her feet loosened. He massaged her limbs as he released them and removed her blindfold.

She blinked up at him, taking in his passive expression, the still watchfulness.

Her smile started small, gaining momentum until her mouth ached, and she lifted her arms to stretch in the style and manner of a satisfied Persian. The change in him was mesmerizing, a cautious curling of his lips before the bloom of his return smile.

He hadn't been sure of her reaction, and it made her realize they were both vulnerable—in their own way.

“How do you feel?”

“Sated,” she said. “Wonderful.”

He dropped onto the bed and drew her into his arms. The perfect ending. He treated her with care and consideration, gave her two amazing orgasms and held her like a valuable treasure.

This,
she thought.

This was the reason why love between a Drummond and an O'Grady rated ten on the scale of perfect.

Chapter Ten

Dallas cornered his younger brother on Wednesday morning, before Patrick even crawled off the couch where he'd spent the night. For once, Dallas was determined to have a normal Saturday instead of pouring beers. “Patrick, would you be able to cover for me on Saturday—not this one but the next, for the day and night shifts?”

“Huh?” Patrick blinked at him, his sleepy expression clearing when Dallas waved a coffee mug under his nose. “Why? Are you going out to the cabin?”

“No, I want to go to the beach.” No harm in telling Patrick what he intended to do with his time off.

Patrick gaped, his mouth dropping open in an unattractive manner.

“Better shut your mouth,” Dallas said. “It's a welcoming haven for bugs.”

“Fuck you,” Patrick said without heat. “Why do you want to go to the beach? I don't care what they say on TV about it being the start of spring. It's bloody cold. There's still snow on the Desert road.”

“So they say.” Dallas remained unperturbed. He wanted to take Laura away for the weekend. They'd stay at a cute bed and breakfast farther down the coast, if he could get a booking or— No. A better plan fell into place. One of the guys he'd worked with years ago owned a luxury lodge. Better for privacy. Some of the owners of bed and breakfasts were nosy old men and women. “Will you do it? Will you cover for me?”

“No problem. I don't have anything better to do.”

“A sad statement of your love life.”

Patrick scowled. “Tell me about it. And you're off for a dirty weekend. Who are you taking? The mystery blonde?”

Everything inside Dallas softened, and he felt a goofy smile take possession of his lips. “Yeah.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Maybe.” Dallas shrugged, not intending to say more. “I'd better go and finish stocking the chillers before Gloria gets here.”

“Give me five minutes and I'll help before I head off. Least I can do for the hospitality.”

With Patrick's aid it didn't take long to ready the bar for the first customers of the day.

“See you later, and thanks.”

“No prob,” Patrick said, heading for the rear door.

Dallas opened the windows to help air the place, and glanced up when Patrick reappeared minutes later. “Did you forget something?”

“You'd better come outside and see this.”

Mystified, Dallas followed his brother outside, and he came to an abrupt halt once he exited the alley running down the side of the pub. Neon green spray paint covered the painted black bricks on the front of the pub, to the left of the door.

A message.
The debt will be paid.

“What debt?”

“Fucked if I know,” Dallas said, but his mind leaped to Laura. Her family—they wouldn't do this. Would they? Sneaking around didn't seem their style, and not in this area. “I need to clean this off.”

“I'll help.”

“It's okay, bro. You go. I'll sort it.”

Patrick hesitated before leaving. Dallas went for cleaning supplies and gave mental thanks he'd paid to get the front of the building treated with graffiti guard. It would make the cleanup easier.

Laura rang him during her lunch hour, and he told her about his upcoming day off and the graffiti.

“What do you think?” he asked, going for blunt confrontation of the Drummond-O'Grady feud. “Your family?”

“I don't see any budding artists in my family, although they're capable of paying someone to commit the crime.”

There was a moment of startled silence before he laughed. “I expected you to shout at me for even putting forward the suggestion.”

“Did you take a photo before you cleaned it off?” she asked.

“Hell.” He dragged his free hand through his hair, pissed for not thinking of photo evidence. “Hopefully it won't happen again, but if it does, I know to take a photo.”

“It wouldn't hurt to contact the police either or check with the other businesses around the pub. Find out if other businesses got the graffiti treatment.”

“When did you get so clever?”

Laura chuckled, the sultry sound grabbing him by the nuts and making him wish she was with him right now. “Since I started hanging out with you. I'd better head back to work. The people here are nice, and the secretary is teaching me about PowerPoint presentations. I love learning new things.”

Dallas grinned at her enthusiasm, and the way she dived headlong into every new experience. “Have fun. Will I see you later?”

“Sorry, Dallas. It's the night I have to go out with James to his work function. Remember, I asked you last week?”

Crap, she had. “I'll miss you.”

“And don't forget I have dinner with my family on Friday. See you on Saturday at the house,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Ring me later or text me.”

“Count on it. Bye.”

Dallas ended the call and took a moment to scan the photos he'd taken of Laura. Two of her bound on his bed and another casual shot when she was laughing at something he'd said. The beginnings of something—hell, jealousy—pulsed to life, even though he knew the emotion was stupid. James and Steven seemed happy together, and James presented no threat to his relationship. He knew this, yet the emotion gained traction. Laura meant something to him, something more than casual. He didn't know what happened next and the uncertainty gnawed at his happiness.

Friday morning at
O'Grady's
was quiet, and Gloria had everything under control. Dallas decided to get a jump on his paperwork. “Call me if you need me.”

Gloria flapped a hand at him and continued pouring a black beer. “Sure thing, boss.”

He stopped by the kitchen to grab a sandwich and wandered up to his apartment. He checked the email, forwarded from the pub website, and answered several queries about bookings for their function room on the second floor. The last email didn't have a subject. He opened it and read the single line of text.

The debt is due now.

What the fuck? Dallas stared at the email and decided to fire one back.

What debt? Send an invoice
, he wrote and hit send.

Then he starred at the screen, waiting for something to happen. His finger hovered over delete before he reconsidered. Laura's suggestion to keep evidence was an excellent one. Instead, he hit print and put the copy in his desk drawer.

The internal phone buzzed. “Yeah, Gloria.”

“Someone to see you, boss. A woman. She said it's about hiring the function room.”

“I'll be right down.” Dallas grabbed his appointment diary and hurried down to the bar.

It wasn't a prospective customer. Instead, Maria stood waiting for him, her curves showcased in a bright orange dress that drew every male eye in the territory. Her dark brows rose, as if she expected him to compliment her appearance. She leaned closer, extending her arms, and he sidestepped her embrace.

“I'd like to speak with you in private.”

Dallas ignored the suggestion radiating from every pore of her body, and shifted his gaze north. “Why are you here? I've made it clear I'm not interested.”

Her welcoming smile faltered at his abrupt tone. She glanced past him and appeared to gather herself. “I told you, lover. I made a mistake, and I want you to give me a second chance. After our history together, don't I deserve the opportunity to make things right? We should take this private. People are looking.”

“You kicked me to the gutter when a better offer came along.” Dallas didn't bother sugarcoating their past. “If you don't leave, I'll call the cops.”

“And tell them what?” she scoffed, regaining some of her usual fire.

The very thing that had attracted him to her in the first place. He didn't mind a woman who could hold her own, but Maria worked on her agenda. It had taken time to pierce his thick skull but his money, the money he'd earned the hard way, was part of his attraction for Maria.

“I'll tell them you're stalking me.”

“Don't be silly.” She patted his shoulder before he could step from her reach.

“You're barred from this pub. You are not welcome, and my staff won't serve you.”

“Please, can't we speak in private?” A gleam entered her eyes, sly and gloating.

He heeded the warning in his gut. “Say your piece here.”

“But I'm sure you won't want people to hear about your girlfriend.”

His warning bubbled over to panic. If Maria thought to hurt Laura, she'd better reconsider. “Say what you've come to say.”

“She's cheating on you with another man. I saw her last night at the function center where I work part-time.”

“No.” He didn't even hesitate.

“Go on, ring her and ask.”

“I know where she was last night,” Dallas said. “She attended a work function with her friend.”

“You know?”

“She went with my blessing. Anything else?”

Maria's eyes narrowed, her mouth shaping to an ugly line. “She's after your money.”

“Nope,” Dallas said, happier now that he'd bested Maria with minimal bloodshed. “Although you appear fixated on my bank account. Leave, Maria. If you try to come back, my employees will toss you out.”

“You can't do that.”

“I believe I already have,” Dallas said and walked away.

“Whoa, boss. Maybe I should check your back for holes,” Gloria said when he slipped behind the bar to help with a sudden rush of customers.

“She's not welcome here, Gloria. Don't serve her, and if she asks for me, tell her I'm unavailable. Pass on the word to the other staff.”

“Yes, boss.”

“What will it be?” Dallas asked a beefy man waiting for service.

“Same again,” the man said holding up a bottle of imported beer. “Are you the owner?”

“Yes,” Dallas said. “Can I help you with something?”

“Nope, just curious. Is the woman in orange with you?”

Dallas stared at the man. “Fuck no. She's an ex. You're welcome to her.”

The man handed over a ten-dollar note. “She's a looker.”

“She's all yours,” Dallas said.

Friday morphed into night, the evening passing the same as many others before Laura's arrival in his life. Hell, he missed her and wished she hadn't needed to go to the family dinner. Every time he let his mind run free, his thoughts darted to Laura and how she looked in the morning, all mussed and sleepy after lovemaking. How good it felt when he was buried balls-deep in her.

“Last orders,” he hollered.

He dealt with the influx of customers wanting a last drink and started clearing up for the night.

Half an hour later, he locked the door behind Gloria and the other bar staff and trudged up the stairs to his apartment. He checked his phone, saw he'd missed a call from Laura and muttered an oath. Too late to ring her back now.

Once in bed, he tossed and turned, sliding into the dream zone, reaching for Laura and waking when he couldn't find her. Damn, he had it bad.

A sudden burst of drunken shouts outside the pub woke him properly. The smashing of glass had him bounding from bed. He fumbled for his jeans, his T-shirt and switched on the bedside light to find where he'd kicked his shoes.

Seconds later, he was rushing downstairs. Another window smashed, closer this time and he cursed when he realized he should have grabbed his cell phone before tearing down to investigate. The whoops and hollers receded, telling him the bastards had gone. He keyed in the code to still the warning beeps coming from the alarm and scowled at the broken window.

Changing direction, he went for the landline and rang the cops. They promised him a car would arrive in the next ten minutes and to leave the culprits to them.

When he couldn't hear any more noise outside, he switched on the main lights to survey the damage. The main front window was smashed, along with two of the smaller windows. A few minutes later, he saw the lights of a car, identified it as the cops and unlocked the front door to greet them.

That was when he saw the new art additions to the brickwork.
The debt is due now.
This time it was written in crimson paint and reminded him of blood.

“Did you recognize anyone?” one of the cops asked after they'd identified themselves.

“Didn't really see them,” Dallas said. “We have a gang in the neighborhood, but I've never had any problems. This is the second night in a row I've had graffiti left on the exterior walls.”

“Did you report the last time?”

“No, I cleaned it off. I didn't even think to take photos, but the message was similar to this one.”

“Do you know what debt they're talking about?”

“No. I don't owe anyone money.”

The two cops took details for their report and said they'd keep an eye out for other graffiti. Dallas snapped photos and spent the next hour clearing glass and boarding up the broken windows.

He managed to grab a couple hours of sleep before he dragged his butt from bed and made a quick call to Laura, which went to voicemail. Disappointed, he moved on to deal with insurance companies and replacing the windows. No one wanted to drink in the pub that looked like a prison. Sighing, he started to remove the latest layer of spray paint.

Patrick arrived when he was almost finished. “Damn, I missed the party.”

“Yeah. I called the cops this time. What are you doing here? Haven't you got stuff to do at the new pub?”

“Nothing for me to do in Clare right now. The builder is doing the alterations, and I don't have anything to do until tonight when I start interviews for staff. What debt are they talking about? Do you have a debt in your secret life?”

Dallas sent his brother a stink eye.

Patrick laughed. “Just askin'. What did Quinn say?”