Natalie Acres (15 page)

“I see you haven’t changed much since you’ve been on the inside.” Brock pushed by Mitch. “You’re still harboring convicts like before.”

“Brock! Come on now. Cash was kidding. Can’t we all just get along?”

Without a break in stride, Brock said, “No, Mitch, I really don’t think so.”

* * * *

Trixie placed her hands on Rory’s shoulders and guided him straight through Mitch’s suite and right out the back door.

“What are you up to?” Rory asked.

“Shh.” She took the lead and hurried toward the cabins. “I want to show you something.”

“You do, huh?” Rory slapped her bottom. “Are you in dire need of a little TLC?”

“I love an intuitive man,” Trixie said, eyeing the rustic accommodations.

The huts all looked the same, but Trixie remembered which cabin had been hers and that’s precisely where she wanted to be when she took advantage of her last opportunity to fuck at leisure, come at will.

“Does this have anything to do with Brock calling you his sub back there?” Rory asked.

“Everything,” she replied, shaking her hips as she bounced over the steps and entered the cabin she’d once called her own.

To her surprise, it looked pretty much the same as before. The bottom bunk appeared to have the same thin mattress covering an uneven slab of wood for support. The top bunk housed a lone piece of plywood which was where she’d stored her belongings when she’d been a counselor there.

A lopsided medicine cabinet hung over the sink. The door leading to the bathroom was off its hinges, but overall, the place looked clean and tidy.

Rory sat on the bed. “Bertie and Claude kept the cabins neater than we did when we were living here.”

Trixie straddled him. Uninterested in housekeeping issues, she crossed her arms and tugged her shirt over her head.

“My goodness, somebody is horny.” Rory cupped her nape and assaulted her lips.

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

Taking a greedy kiss, she thrust her tongue into the hot recess of his mouth. “Make love to me, Rory.” Grinding against the hard outline of his swollen cock, she wished for a thrashing fuck.

Time was of the essence all things considered. She’d watched a full transformation in Brock and knew what his exposed desires meant. The lifestyle wasn’t foreign to her. Considering her insatiable appetite, she needed to whet her whistle one last time before she forfeited all control.

Rory grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her head back. “Why do I have the feeling another man worked you up for me?”

She moistened her lips and attacked his, twirling her tongue between his lips as she loosened several buttons on his shirt. “You can work me up now, baby.”

Switching positions, he stretched out between her legs and kissed his way down to her breasts, his tongue sweeping past one nipple before clamping down on the other. Ragged breaths resounded as he stripped her pajamas away from her body, unhooked his belt, and loosened his jeans.

She reached down the length of their bodies, pumping him, feeling him swell in her hand. At the same time, he thrust his fingers inside her pussy, using a precise scissor motion as he worked for a deeper thrust, penetrating her higher as she spread her legs wider.

“Rory,” she whispered, clutching his head to her chest and throwing her hips forward. “Give me what I need.”

Rory nipped at her lips. “Want and need a quickie, do you?”

“Yes.” She raked her fingernails down his shirt sleeve. “God yes, honey.”

Without any further coaxing, he threw his weight forward, impaling her with one hard jolt. Buried to the hilt, he gripped the ledge above the bed and worked his cock deep inside her trembling walls, the quivering vibrations already there as she tried to withstand the easy way out—the quick orgasm that would leave her shattered, but far from fulfilled.

Rory pushed her knee forward and stared down at her. “You feel so good, baby.”

“You ain’t half bad yourself,” she teased, stretching her neck as he retreated and reentered her once more. “Ah, Rory. Like that. Right like that.”

He came over her again, his arm tightening next to her head as he plunged inside her again, fucking her with a high-handed effort, refusing to give her all of him, but stroking her just enough to make her burn.

Her desire for him resonated through her body. She held him closer, thinking of the times they’d fucked here before, the first time he’d taken her, the way they’d made love without protection when she’d pushed him to his limits, begged him to fuck her, and dared him to leave her unsatisfied.

Now, they were at this place again. Only this time there wasn’t birth control to consider. There wasn’t a fear of becoming pregnant because Trixie wanted another child and they were fully prepared to give her anything her heart desired.

“Harder, Rory,” she whispered at his ear.

He stared down at her with the love overshadowing his lust. Slow and easy, he pumped his cock inside her, taking his time with leisurely strokes.

“More,” she rasped. “God, Rory, I need more.”

He held his lips away from her and slammed against her, pounding inside her until her body milked his cock, her orgasm rocking through her body at the speed of sound. “Come! Oh God, Rory! Come!”

Beads of sweat peppered his brow as he rotated his hips from right to left, forcing his cock as deep as he could go, working that thick wedge of flesh from side to side as he pleasured her. His goal was obvious as he thumped inside her vibrating channel. He buried his cock deeper, pounding out a steady rhythm.

She locked her legs around his hips and stretched her arms over her head, shivering all over when he suckled her breasts, drawing the hard point between his lips as he kept loving her, taking her, making her whole again.

Rory didn’t leave her unfinished. He didn’t tease her until she groveled, but he certainly knew how to leave longing for more than what she’d embraced the minute before.

As her orgasm subsided and her cunt pulsed around his cock, she whispered words of endearment. She uttered her undying devotion.

Rolling to his back, Rory looked like an exasperated man, but he still had a little loving left in him. And Trixie wanted every last drop of what he had left to give.

* * * *

Cash stood on the hillside watching her move. The checkered curtains were worn and drawn, but there was an opening down the middle, enough to give him a real nice view of those gorgeous tits waving at him. He’d like to move a little closer and give them a proper kiss hello.

Sucking in a breath, he stretched his neck and eyed the way she moved. That Rory fucker was one lucky son of a bitch. When he’d been riding on top, he’d looked as if he were determined to bring her pleasure. The poor guy probably didn’t realize waiting for his woman to go first had only postponed the pleasure.

If he’d been riding her pretty little cunt, he would’ve come a few times by now. And she would’ve been screaming out his name after every deep stroke.

“Rory! Oh God, Rory!”

Cash stilled. Fury bolted through his veins. The fucking bitch was crying out another man’s name?

Cash shook his head, trying desperately to stay in reality. The last thing he needed was to lose it now when Mitch had already taken his side against that brute of a fellow, Brock. Dumb fucker. He probably didn’t know his woman was getting her saucy little snatch plowed right now.

“Now, baby! That’s right, Trix. Come with me again, honey. Ah yeah, baby. Spread those legs wider. Hmm…yeah. That’s right. Squeeze me.”

The voices faded but the hard thumps provided familiar sounds he’d once enjoyed himself. Prior to his prison sentence, he’d been involved with a number of ladies. They were all beauties, real lookers.

Shame they had to go and ruin their relationships with him. He’d never forgive them for testifying against him.

Trixie clasped her hands behind her head. She threw her weight forward, drew back, and jolted forward once more.

Cash needed to handle this situation. He needed a piece of that Trixie-action.

He stuffed his hand down the front of his slacks and pulled his penis. Staring down the bridge of his nose, he peeked inside his pants and smiled. He was hard. God help him, he was hard!

His mouth flung open and he pumped. There was something extraordinary about this woman. He could look at her picture. He could watch her with other men. It didn’t matter. He’d been soft and flaccid for nearly a decade, but when Trixie Cartwell—fuck that Sheldon shit—was around, he was as hard as a cannon and ready to fuck and fire!

He dragged his thumb across his slit. Damn woman, what he’d give to have her grinding against his face. He tossed his head back and stared at the sky. Closing his eyes, he pretended to tongue her sweet pussy, licking his lips as he pushed the weight of his cock between his fingers, mashing on the tender skin rolled around the crest.

She’d taste like wine and smell like berries. Her skin would be as soft as velvet and that sweet pussy of hers, oh man, he could almost feel the extraordinary clench of her cunt around his lips and tongue.

“Trixie!” Brock Sheldon’s voice filled the clearing. “Trixie! Damn it. Where are you?”

Cash jerked to attention, slipping his hand away from his waistband. He glanced up at the same time and his eyes met hers right before she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Brock and Mitch barreled through the door. They were ready to fight, prepared to defend the woman they loved.

Rory held her head against his chest. “She said that friend of yours was out there watching us fuck.”

“What?” Mitch looked surprised. “Are you sure?”

Trixie shook. She wrapped her arms tighter around Rory’s waist and nodded. “Positive. It was him.”

“I’ll kill the little motherfucker.” Brock stormed outside and stood on the porch, searching the trees for any sign of movement. When he didn’t see anything, he marched inside the cabin once more. “Trixie, get dressed.”

Rory quickly reassembled his clothes. “I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are. Someone needs to stay with Trixie,” Mitch said.

“Then you stay,” Rory bit out.

“He’s right. He’s your good pal from the joint. The last thing you want to do is sever ties with your BFF.” Brock cupped her cheek then placed a kiss on her forehead before turning to Mitch. “I’m not letting this slide, Mitch.”

“He was probably just passing by,” Mitch said. “A man will look when sex is displayed in the window.”

“He was feeling himself off!” Trixie yelled, grabbing her pajama pants.

A deep and guttural sound fell from Mitch’s lips when she leaned over and picked up her PJs. “Damn. I’d forgotten what a good-lookin’ ass you have.”

Brock snarled. “Now? Really? You’re coming on to her now?”

She blushed then and her nipples formed little gems. The hard buds were prepped for more attention, a little more action.

Brock said, “This isn’t over, by the way. You weren’t supposed to run to Rory to finish what I started.”

“If I’m in your debt, you have my gratitude,” Rory teased, buckling his belt. “Let’s go.”

“Trixie, are you sure Cash wasn’t just strolling by?”

“Hardly, Mitch.” She glared at him. “He had his hand down the front of his slacks, trying to jack off while watching us fuck!”

“Perhaps he happened by about the time—”

“Stop making excuses for him,” Brock bit out. “The guy is a freak.”

“He really isn’t.” Mitch defended him. “He was one of the best guys I met while I was inside.”

“That’s not saying a lot now is it?” Brock asked before tilting Trixie’s chin to his. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Do I get a vote in this?” Trixie asked, her gaze bouncing to Rory.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Brock promised, leaving her with a peck upon her lips.

Brock and Rory started up the path leading to the hill. Mitch walked out to the porch. “What do you plan to say to him when you find him?”

Brock stopped in his tracks. “Where’s he staying, Mitch?”

Trixie joined him on the porch then. “Brock, maybe I overreacted.”

“Stay out of this, Trixie.” Brock glared at Mitch. “Where is he?”

Mitch took a deep breath. “If he isn’t at the lake house, he’s at the loft.”

“Where Pratchert lived when he worked here?” Brock asked.

“Yeah,” Mitch replied.

“Fabulous,” Brock grumbled, marching away with Rory at his side. “If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

“Brock, we can’t judge him by a previous experience with the stable guy.”

“I want to know why he’s here. I can’t understand why Mitch would offer him room and board if he doesn’t have any work for him.”

“Maybe he’s planning on reopening the camp,” Rory suggested. “He could probably use the extra help. Claude may not return to work. Bertie can’t manage the property on her own.”

“Maybe not, but we can find someone else to help Mitch out.”