Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (41 page)

“She’s coming
again
. Oh, fuck.” Quinten groaned, resting his head against his hands on the straps. “Fuck, that’s amazing.” He stood, finally, and stroked her thighs. “Baby, you’re one amazing woman.” There was deep emotion in his voice as he spoke. He gently disengaged his cock from her swollen pussy. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

All Camilla could do was shake her head, lying limp in the swing. “No hurting. Only loving. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud in heaven. While angels sing,” she added with a soft chuckle. “I love you two so much.” There was a soft break in her voice.

Ben released her wrists, untied the blindfold, which was damp, and looked into her tear-filled eyes. “I love you, Camilla. Forever.”

She wrapped a trembling hand around the back of his head and kissed him. Her whole body quivered as Quinten bent over her and pressed kisses all over her abdomen.

“We’re so lucky you love us, baby. I can’t imagine my life without you, without this love.” Quinten’s voice shook as he spoke, and Ben felt encompassed, ensnared with such bonds of love that he wondered if they weren’t having some sort of telepathic communion.

With a deep breath, Ben finally rose, and they freed her from the love swing and carried her limp, sated form to the bed. They lay beside her for a while, stroking her until she was deeply asleep.

Ben was wide awake, and knew that Quinten was in the same shape. He motioned toward the kitchen, and Quinten nodded. They were both night owls and it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. Much too early for either of them to be going to bed. But he hoped Camilla slept like a rock. Given the way she’d pushed herself lately, she’d earned it.

Quinten joined Ben on the couch as he surfed through the television channels looking for something interesting.

He was wide awake, which was unbelievable after the release he’d had earlier. Normally he slept like a well-fed baby after an orgasm, and as volcanic as that climax had been, he should be joining Camilla in a dual coma, but there he sat. He smiled at Ben, figuring the dumbfounded look on his face was one that they shared.

“She was really something,” Ben murmured before taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

“You can say that again. I hope she sleeps well.”

Ben was lost in thought for a few moments then said, “If she reacted that way to just being restrained…and then the flogging from before…” Ben glanced at him, and Quinten realized what Ben was seeking from him. Not permission, so much as understanding.

“Ben, we bring different qualities to this relationship with her. That part of your personality fits well with hers. It’s obvious she likes it—hell, needs it. Do you remember when she offered that flogger to you? The look in her eyes said it all. Same thing with the blindfold and the restraints tonight. She loved it all. I don’t think she plays by a set of strict rules where her little kink is concerned. It may well be that she likes that you need to do some exploring because it means that you’re not coming to her with a history or preconceived ideas about what it means to dominate her.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’m thankful I had Ethan to talk to. So you’d be okay if we take this thing between us a little farther? You’re welcome to come along…participate.”

“What about her status as an expectant mother?”

“That’s the first thing I plan to ask Joseph about. I know from that first serious talk we had that Dominance and submission goes way beyond the physical with her. This time we have, while she’s pregnant makes it possible for me to explore all those avenues first.”

“Good, because I’m not jazzed about the idea of her being tied down or given a thorough flogging while she’s carrying our baby.”

“It makes me uncomfortable too. I think what happened tonight is about as far as I can go with her. I’m not even sure that I’m willing to do that when she’s much farther along than she is right now. Given my inexperience, I’m taking no chances with her or the baby.”

Quinten nodded, knowing that Ben hated being at a loss like that. He loved being in control. “Taking those classes will give you a whole new perspective. I may go with you to a few of them, because I need to know how I can help in your dynamic. I don’t particularly need to dominate her, but I want to help if it makes her happy.”

“Not the least bit curious to discover if you’re more submissive than dominant?” Ben asked, and Quinten was flooded with relief when he didn’t chuckle.

Putting his cup down, Quinten replied, “Thank you for not laughing about it. I know I’m not as dominating as you are but I’m—”

Ben did chuckle as he said, “You’re not exactly fuzzy puppies either, though. I think she likes that you inject humor into so much of our relationship together. If you want to explore that part of you, whether it’s dominant or submissive, or in between, is fine with me. We agree that we want her to be happy.”

“Yeah. I really didn’t think that we needed to go there, and I think she’d content herself without it. But I have to admit that I do want to explore. One thing I don’t want is to be seen as anything but a part of our threesome. I’ve no desire to have someone else think I’m looking for someone else to scene with.”

“Besides, Camilla would kick your ass. She’s never said anything about it, but I have a feeling there’s a possessive streak in her a mile wide.”

Warmth filled Quinten’s chest. “I could do with her going all territorial on my ass.”

Ben laughed. “But you’re not sure you’re submissive. I’m happy as hell this worked out between us.”

“Did you have doubts?”

Ben shook his head without hesitation. “In the beginning, I had all the normal doubts but tonight, when I watched you…take such enjoyment from eating her pussy, even though I’d just come inside her. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it really didn’t bother you to share her.”

Quinten recalled the moment with relish, even licking his lips. He honestly hadn’t even noticed because he’d been so wound up by the sounds she made and the way she reacted to his touch. The memory of her slick flesh under his tongue was enough to stir his cock right then, even after being so heavily sated. “You made her feel good and I enjoyed watching you do that. The cum doesn’t detract from the moment. I’ve watched you do the same thing too.”

“I have?” The look on Ben’s face mirrored what he felt in his heart. How she felt mattered to them more.

“Yeah. You see? It’s even better than we imagined. We’re making love with her and how she feels is more important than anything.”

“Remember the night that we finally talked about how we felt about her?”

Quinten nodded, knowing he’d never forget discovering that the man who’d become his best friend loved the same woman he did. “I’ll never forget. Kade Parker had popped off to Clayton and Chance Carlisle about Lydia and then started in on the two of us, accusing us of being pussy-whipped by Camilla.”

“Remember the deer-in-the-headlights-look on her face? Priceless,” Ben said with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, after it was over, you poured both of us a beer and made that comment about if a man had to be pussy-whipped, that—”

Ben’s eyes were unfocused and he smiled like he was reliving the memory. “That I could think of a lot worse things than being pussy-whipped by Camilla O’Neal.”

Quinten sipped from his coffee mug and grinned, recalling the tension of that moment. “I told you that I couldn’t agree more, wondering how you’d take it, hoping that we were close enough that it wouldn’t fuck up the friendship.”

“And I told you that I wouldn’t necessarily view you as competition and might consider a partnership that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with pleasing her. That was a year ago. Why did we wait so long?”

“As I recall, we were abiding by Camster’s little rule. I’m just glad that we didn’t run out of time.”

They were distracted by a knock at the front door. They turned on the lamps as they went through the living room, and Ben opened the front door to find Hank Stinson there. Quinten braced himself for news of some sort. The sheriff on the doorstep at night wasn’t a social call.

“Hey, Ben. Hey, Quinten. I hope I didn’t wake y’all.”

Ben backed up and held open the door. “No, come in, Hank.”

“Camilla around?”

Quinten replied, “Yes, but she’s asleep, and hopefully down for the night.”

“It’s probably just as well,” he said as he removed his hat and took off his jacket.

“Want a cup of coffee? We were just up talking.”

Hank nodded in gratitude. “I’d be grateful. It’s been a long-ass day.”

Quinten poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the dining room table as Hank sat down and took a long sip.

Ben thanked Quinten when he brought the pot and refilled his cup before putting it on a hot pad on the table. This looked like a conversation that was going to take the full pot.

“I just heard from Ethan. The Twisted Bull got broken into tonight. David Northup called him when both your cell numbers rolled to voice mail this evening, and he went by to check on things. The back door was left wide open.”

Quinten grabbed their phones from the counter where they’d been charging and muttered, “Shit. No rest for the weary around here.” All three cell phones had voice mail notifications.

Ben nodded in agreement. “Was there damage?”

Hank took a deep breath. “That’s what has me concerned. I went out to see when Ethan called me, and it looks like none of the club construction was messed with at all, which is odd, because y’all are nearing completion on the interior and there was some valuable stuff in there. Things the run-of-the-mill thief would take to sell. They didn’t even touch what was in the bottle storage room.”

That shocked Quinten. It wasn’t much, but they’d received one small delivery already, which was all still in cases in the storage room, ready to be unpacked and put on the shelves.

Ben nodded and said, “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Camilla’s office was tossed. Just like her house and her car.”

“Shit.”

Hank shook his head and wearily rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t like this. I’ll tell you what…I’m getting damn sick and tired of the women I know and care about being victimized. I’ve seen so much of it lately. I hate feeling out of control.”

Ben nodded, looking like he was gritting his teeth. “I know exactly what you mean, Hank.”

Hank drained his mug and refilled it. Quinten got up from the chair and went into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of Irish whiskey. He uncapped it and poured a healthy dollop in his mug and then offered it to Hank, who smiled and took it. “Don’t mind if I do.” He poured a little in his fresh cup of coffee and sighed as he drank it.

Quinten capped the bottle and returned to his seat. “What’s your suggestion, Hank?”

Hank chuckled wryly. “Wrap her in cotton and keep her in your pocket.”

“She won’t be too happy about that. She already grouses with Cody, Heath, and Spencer hovering over her.”

Quinten said, “Hank, she has at least two of them with her at all times. What do you think is going on?”

“My guess is that they’re searching for something. They went through her house very thoroughly. Same with her car. Damn shame about the insurance company totaling it, by the way. Whoever it is has discovered that she’s opening The Twisted Bull and Chantilly’s, and they’re narrowing their search. I have a really bad feeling. If they didn’t find what they wanted today, they’ll be escalating before long. Has she remembered anything since the last time we talked?”

“The ashes,” Quinten said with a nod.

“Ashes?”

“Her mom’s ashes. They were in a sealed box left on her bed when the house was searched. They tore through her drawers and her possessions but left the sealed box on the bed unopened.”

Hank rested his elbow on the table and rubbed his temple, thinking about that for a second. “Did she tell you who knew about that?”

Quinten filled him in, and Hank took down the names. “I’ll check with them, to see if they might’ve talked with anyone else about it. I’m not buying the squeamish burglar story. Someone knows something.”

“Did you ever find anything out about that guy she dated who went to prison? Tyler Anderson?”

Hank nodded. “Yes. He was paroled a couple of months back. Time off for good behavior. He was living in Kerrville and had a job, but he didn’t show up for his last meeting with his parole officer. They’ve issued a warrant for him.”

Ben softly cursed at that news and then said, “Let us know if we can do anything on our end. Ace Webster and Kemp Whittier may have some sources.”

Hank nodded and refilled his cup as he rubbed his head like it hurt. “I’ll contact him. I’ll be damned if I’m letting any more women get hurt on my watch.”

“We’ll have to tell her when she wakes up.” Quinten dreaded the thought, too. She had enough on her plate as it was.

Speaking his mind, Ben said, “This is the last thing she needs right now. We have inspectors coming next week to look the place over.”

Hank grimaced. “You have my sympathies. Just keep an eye on her.” Hank grinned at them both. “Rumor has it that she’s expectin’.” He chuckled when they both sat up straight in their chairs and grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. Well, congratulations are in order. And for the love of Mike, let’s keep her safe.”