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by KB Winters


  That was where I found Ken, in the huge circle of men who wanted to watch but weren’t quite brave enough to join in, maybe in case they didn’t match up to the bigger cocks on display. His cock was on display, though. His hand stroked it slowly, and even from my weird side angle, I could see his eyes lit with an excitement I hadn’t seen in months. The worst part was, I couldn’t tell if it was from watching the petite blonde take a huge black cock in her ass, or if it was that ripped ginger shoving his cock into the black guy’s ass that had him so aroused. Even worse? I didn’t give a damn. With Ken, it was always hard to tell because his sexual proclivities were hard to pin down.

  His porn preferences didn’t always match up with real life, but even his own comments were sometimes at odds with what he wanted and other than sticking to my personal limits, I didn’t bother myself with that.

  It said a lot about our relationship that I really didn’t want to think about, so I took another gulp of my drink and watched Ken. I kept my gaze mostly focused on him to see what it was that made me stick around. He wasn’t the wealthiest man I’d ever dated, nor the most attractive or charming. But I still spent the past year with him, even moving to Opey a few months ago.

  Ken was secretive, but I was okay with that because he didn’t ask a lot of questions about what I did all day. Not that I did anything beyond grooming and thinking, but the fact that he wasn’t always asking questions made it easier to be around him. Especially lately.

  It felt like we’d both given up but hadn’t decided to end it yet, which was depressing. We were both young and attractive. It was far too early to settle, wasn’t it?

  A blonde woman from the bedroom area walked a straight line towards Ken, still slowly stroking his cock. I didn’t blame her. Ken had a beautiful cock, seven inches, and just thick enough to feel good without making me sore the next day. He just wasn’t overly focused on anyone’s pleasure but his own. She stood in front of Ken, wearing nothing but a coy smile before she dropped to her knees.

  Instead of being angry, I watched with a curious fascination as she wrapped one hand around his cock and slowly, tentatively licked the swollen head. Big eyes looked up at him as she licked him like a lollipop, drawing groans from more than just Ken. Finished teasing, she took him to the back of her throat once, twice, three times before his entire body vibrated.

  “Fuck!” he moaned and wrapped her high ponytail around his fist, his brown gaze on hers as he plowed his cock down her throat while she smiled and took it, squeezing his ass as if to beg for more. This was a Ken I’d never seen before. He had a dark intensity as he held her, fucking her mouth but not callously so. No, he was almost gentle in the way he fucked her mouth and her throat, making sure she had that same gleam in her eyes that he did. Strangely, she did.

  When Ken and I had sex, which was rare since we came to Opey, it was almost mechanical. I rarely gave him head since he refused to return the favor, and because he was such a selfish lover, I refused to share his kinks. There was no way I’d let him paddle my ass and still not have an orgasm. But this Ken was different. He actually gave a damn that the woman enjoyed having her throat fucked as much as he enjoyed fucking it. More than anything else I’d seen Ken do in The Barn Door, that was a hard pill to swallow.

  They were intense together. Hot as fuck, honestly, and his hips moved faster and faster. She gripped his thighs and pushed him deeper down her throat before one hand moved to his balls and tugged.

  “Oh, fuck!” he mouthed.

  The blonde held his ass tight, keeping him close as he came down her throat, in sharp, violent shakes. She gave a dramatic swallow and stood, flashing a wink before she left the room.

  Oddly, I didn’t feel any anger at what I saw, just a vague sense of disappointment and arousal. I wanted what had just taken place between Ken and that random woman. I began to realize that maybe I wouldn’t get it with Ken, the same way he clearly couldn’t get it from me.

  Chapter Seven

  Holden

  I didn’t know what pissed me off more, that Aspen had the balls to approach me like we were old fucking friends, or that I was still thinking about her hours later. I shouldn’t be thinking about her at all. She was nothing to me. Less than nothing. She was a customer, and I was forced labor. For one more night, anyway. If Gunnar made me do this shit again, I’d pack up and put Opey in my rearview mirror.

  Fuck that. I wasn’t going anywhere. I had a few acres and a home of my own, Opey was home. Which meant I had to suck it all up and be a fucking trooper for the rest of the night. Then tomorrow I’d get my ass up early and get back where I belonged. Ranching.

  “Take a break, Holden.” Hazel’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I nodded, tossing the bar towel into a bucket that I picked up to take with me. She laughed. “Doing your best to look like an employee?”

  “Hell, yeah. Not that it’s stopped ’em.” These women were bold as hell, going after what they wanted in a way that would have had me rock hard, if I was into public sex. I wasn’t. Or shittin’ where I ate. Which I wasn’t.

  “Aw, boo-hoo. Horny ladies want to touch you.”

  I didn’t even bother responding with words, just a glare to let her know she was annoying me. Break time meant I could relax my shoulders and put my feet up inside the employee break room. Away from the music and the people. Having so many people was good for business, which meant it was good for my cash flow, but goddamn, it was so many people. I preferred fewer people. Less noise.

  Just less.

  Everything.

  It was the story of my life that shit never went the way it was supposed to, which is why I wasn’t all that surprised to set eyes on Aspen’s boyfriend just ten feet away from my peace and quiet. Instead, I had to watch the little blond guy creep around in a way that could only be called suspicious, and that’s what drew my attention. He was a newcomer to Opey. I kept my distance but watched closely as he tiptoed down the short hall that led to the romance room.

  Even as I followed the guy, I figured I was just about to find another asshole cheating on his woman. And yeah, maybe it gave me the smallest thrill to know that woman was Aspen.

  Inside the romance room, he greeted a leggy brunette with a kiss right on the mouth. It wasn’t a simple greeting of old friends, though it was obvious this wasn’t their first meeting. It was a tender greeting from the way he held her face to the way her fingers played lightly with the blond hair at the back of his neck. They were lovers as in present tense, as in perfectly in place inside the pink, red and white room filled with satin and lace and candlelight. A heart shape bed completed the look, with romance-themed sex toys lying all around.

  I couldn’t help the way my lips twitched thinking about the karma of it all. Yet, I couldn’t even savor that thought because it only pissed me off more that I was thinking about Aspen. Again.

  Aspen’s man kissed his way down the brunette’s body, slowly peeling the sexy lingerie from her tight little body, capped off with big, beautiful, fake tits. He licked and sucked the perky nipples that reached out for his touch as she arched into him, urging him to give her more. Which he did. He kept going, kissing down her flat stomach, only stopping to dip his tongue into her belly button, drawing a giggle from the woman. Then he was where they both wanted him, between her legs, lapping up her wet pussy like she was ice water on a scorching hot Texas day. Long, shapely legs wrapped around him as she ground against his face, his cock grew harder with every cry, every moan she made.

  Maybe she just tasted that damn good. Maybe this was his woman, and Aspen was his mistress. Wouldn’t that be something?

  They were fucking now, hard and fast, intense as fuck with them eye-fucking each other as hard as their bodies slammed together. He didn’t look away, not even once, as he pounded into her. Whatever was going on between them, he and the brunette were more than friends, more than lovers.

  And none of it was any of my fucking business.

  Now that I knew this guy had nothing to
do with the trouble plaguing Opey, it was break time. Away from the freaks.

  Chapter Eight

  Aspen

  “Yes! Oh, yes!”

  It was the sound of pleasure, particularly of a woman’s intense erotic pleasure that had my feet on the move, eager to see what kind of sex produced those sounds. A small crowd had gathered in front of the romance room, which was perfectly named. It was the exact room that every girl pictured as the backdrop to losing her virginity. It never was, of course. If she’d been lucky, it was a cheap hotel, and if not, the bed of some wannabe cowboy’s daddy’s truck. Somehow, all the pink and red hearts didn’t look pervy or out of place at a sex club.

  But the view inside the room was even more breathtaking than the room itself. A woman with long, wavy brown hair dropping down on a pink pillow while a man kissed his way down her back, drawing deeply erotic moans from her. At one point her head fell away to show off pink, kiss-swollen lips just as his lips reached the top of her ass. It was hot because it wasn’t just fucking between them. That was obvious without even knowing anything about them. There was something real between these two; they were probably a couple who didn’t mind others watching their love.

  The man was nothing but a head of blond hair, his tongue slipping between the globes of her ass, licking down until he reached her pussy, sending her bucking away from him. “Yes, Ken, yes!”

  Ken.

  She said Ken. It was a common enough name, but the shiver of something that stole over me said it was Ken. My Ken. Hell, her Ken. Did that make him our Ken? Even as the thought came to me, his features came into focus, wispy blond curls that no amount of expensive hair product could tame. The small cluster of stars and diamonds tattooed between his shoulder blades sealed it. Her Ken was my Ken.

  And my Ken was fucking another woman and this time, I was fucking pissed off.

  Hell, I was more than pissed off. I was offended. Was I the kind of woman to let this shit happen to me, not just once, not twice, but three fucking times? No, I wasn’t. Maybe I was still a small-town Texas girl at heart because I believed that I should leave with the one who brought me, as my granddaddy used to say.

  “Ken,” I banged on the glass. “You fucking piece of shit!”

  This time, at least, his hips stopped pumping into her as his neck twisted in all directions to see where my voice was coming from. He found me when I stepped inside the room. And smiled. He fucking smiled. “Aspen, babe. Want to join us?”

  “What the fuck do you think, Ken?” I felt like the biggest idiot in this place when he shrugged.

  “No boundaries, babe. You knew what this place was and you know what I need.” The challenge was there, in his eyes, and never in my life had I wanted to cause bodily harm to a person more than I wanted to at that moment.

  So, I did. I picked up the closest thing to me, a big, rubber, purple double-sided dong, and I hurled it at the bed with all the strength and rage I could muster. “You asshole!”

  It landed on his head and bounced off his shoulder before landing on the brunette’s flat stomach and rolling off.

  “Come over here right now. Take off your clothes and let Paige lick your pussy. You love that.” He thought he could placate me, and that only made me want to throw something else.

  So I did. This time it was a lamp. “Seems to me you don’t have a problem eating pussy at all!”

  He paled, and I knew in that moment we were so fucking over. We were the damn Civil War. Nothing, apparently not even cheating or dragging me to a damn sex club in the middle of the week could have hurt or angered me more. I wasted a year on this asshole with his dirty little kinks, his mediocre loving, and all because he lavished me with gifts and vacations. I ate it all up. Like a fucking fool.

  “I’m so fucking stupid.”

  “Babe, chill.”

  “Chill? Fuck you! Ken.” I found something else, a red-soled stiletto that looked exactly like the pair I had and hurled it at him with as much energy as I could.

  “What the fuck, Aspen? Take your drunk ass home.”

  That piece of shit. I wasn’t drunk enough to stop myself from lunging at Ken but someone or maybe it was something, hooked me around my waist and yanked me back in mid-air.

  “What the hell? Put me down!” I tried to look over my shoulder at the guy behind me, but it was dark, and he was strong. Scary strong.

  “I’m tossing your pretty little ass out of here and calling the cops.”

  “Holden?” The fight went out of me at the sound of his voice, And though I knew I shouldn’t have been, I was glad to see him. Glad it was him and not some stranger who’d found me looking less than my best, behaving even worse than that.

  “Calling the cops? For what?” I ignored the way my nipples grew harder every time his breath hit my neck.

  “Assault. Attempted assault. Vandalism. Property destruction. Disturbing the peace. We don’t tolerate this behavior in here, no matter who your daddy is.” His tone was icy and dry. I guess it was some small comfort that he wasn’t taking any pleasure in watching me fall so fucking low.

  But it was the mention of my father, of his importance, and his reputation that took the last bit of energy from me.

  “You can’t call the cops. I’m not usually like this. Holden. You know me.”

  “I don’t really care, sugar.”

  Sugar. It was such a Texas thing to say that it should have annoyed me, but coming from him, it sounded sweet. Almost endearing.

  “I know you don’t, but it’s the truth.”

  I knew he didn’t give a damn, but it mattered to me. I was drunk and humiliated and maybe even the smallest bit heartbroken, and I needed him to know I wasn’t the train wreck I seemed to be.

  Chapter Nine

  Holden

  “If you say so, Aspen.” I wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not, but since her little antics had interrupted my break, I didn’t much give a damn. I heard the sex and the screaming from the break room, but when furniture started to shatter, it was time to intervene. Which meant my break was over.

  “Have a seat.” I dropped her onto the slender bench inside the storage closet. It was the closest place I could think of to get her away from her ex without dragging her out of the club and calling the law.

  She plopped down on the bench with a pout as she struggled to find a comfortable way to sit that didn’t show off everything. I was happy to watch her squirm for once. “You don’t believe me.”

  “Does it matter what I believe?”

  The last bit of air deflated out of her at my words. I felt a twinge of sympathy for her.

  “I guess it shouldn’t, but for some reason it does.” Her shoulders hunched forward in defeat, and all the anger seemed to have fled her pale blue eyes.

  “I guess I wanted you to think I’d grown up. Matured.”

  She was looking for sympathy, and unfortunately for me, I was close to feeling it for her.

  “Legally allowed to drink and make bad decisions. That’s officially an adult, isn’t it?”

  She flashed a half-smile that spoke of a woman who could now laugh at herself. At least a little, and it was endearing, dammit.

  “True enough,” she said, but the words came out barely above a whisper. “I guess, hell I just don’t know, Holden.”

  Her last words came out on a sob, just one at first. Then another and another until her delicate shoulders trembled under the force of her tears. “I’m sorry about…this.”

  Ah, shit. Just because she rejected me a million years ago in high school didn’t mean I had to return the favor when she was obviously hurting and going through some shit.

  “Ah, hell Aspen, don’t cry. He ain’t worth it.”

  No one was worth the kind of tears she was shedding for that dickwad.

  “I know that,” she screamed, but it didn’t have any energy or fire behind it.

  “That’s why I’m crying.” Her shoulders shook and kept on shaking, and I felt hopeless as hell. �
�What am I even doing with him?”

  Good question, but I figured she didn’t really want the answer because it was clear as day. The guy was clearly rich and probably made up for love and affection with expensive gifts.

  “Ken’s exactly who you thought you’d end up with, right?” At least, from all appearances, that was what everyone thought. He looked like all the guys she’d dated in high school. Handsome in that catalog kind of way; well dressed like he bought his outfits right off the mannequin. They were all rich, privileged assholes who majored in bullying the less fortunate.

  Aspen huffed out a laugh. “I guess guys like Ken are my punishment from God.” Her words were starting to slur.

  I was too surprised at her admission to say anything but the obvious. “Yeah? Punishment for what?”

  “For saying no to you when I wanted to say yes. For not being strong enough to withstand the peer pressure of my so-called friends. For not being brave enough to do something about crushing on the wrong guy.”

  Shit. Why did she have to go and say that?

  “Ah, Aspen.” I didn’t know whether to be offended, relieved, or flattered.

  “I’m sorry, Holden. For everything.” What a pathetic sight she made. Instead of being happy or even a little fucking joyful, I felt bad for her. Poor little rich girl and I was fucking buying it. She started to slump over, and I reached forward to grab her.

  “It ain’t all bad, Aspen. You’ll leave him and find another rich prick real soon, and maybe he’ll buy you bigger jewelry and better vacations.”

  I was being an asshole, and I knew it, but I needed to protect myself ,dammit.

  She laughed as she stood and the sound was loud, and rich, feminine. “You might be right, but that’s the funny part. Ken didn’t give me anything I couldn’t have gotten for myself. How pathetic am I?”

 

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