All ONES: The Complete Collection

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All ONES: The Complete Collection Page 11

by Aleatha Romig


  My ears ring with the change in decibels as I make my way out of our bar and down the street to the club. Though it isn't as loud, even on the sidewalk, music fills the air.

  The line to get in to the upscale gentlemen’s club is at least half a block long. Instead of waiting, I go up to the large, muscular man standing near the entrance. The bouncer looks me up and down as I plead my case. "Sir, can you help me? My cousin's fiancé is in there. We're over there…” I point to the bar I just left. “…and she's freaking out. I've tried to call him and my boyfriend, but I don't think they can hear their phones. Can I please run in, just for a minute? I need to tell him what's happening. Otherwise, a big fucking wedding that's scheduled for tomorrow could be ruined."

  The tall man with dark skin and deep brown eyes again looks me up and down. I’m wearing a short sundress with cowboy boots. It’s hardly the attire of the women inside.

  "Please?" I ask, biting my lip.

  Before he answers, he pushes a button on a radio-type thing attached to his shoulder and mumbles something to someone else. After a moment, he looks back to me and nods. "Okay, make it quick."

  "Thank you!"

  He lifts the rope and I rush inside, pushing my way through all the people. The patrons are mostly men, but not all. There are women in skimpy skirts with big hair. Some wait tables while others show more individualized attention to the patrons. The women who are here to watch the dancers all appear too enthralled in the show to notice me.

  The music grows louder and the bass vibrates the floor as I make my way toward the main stage. From a distance, I see Duncan first. My feet forget to move and breath catches in my chest as I watch the woman at their table.

  Duncan is shaking his head no and pushing cash toward the woman. Kurt, Kevin, and Justin, Jillian's boyfriend, have their backs to me. I can tell by Kurt's body language that this isn't his idea of fun. I'm undecided about Kevin and Justin. And then I see Sheila's husband, Jimmy. He's throwing cash toward the stage and cat-calling. Though I recognize his loud, booming voice and domineering tone, I can't actually hear what he's saying over the loud music.

  Relief that I can't explain washes through me as I watch Duncan. Despite the woman's best efforts, he's not picking up on the obvious advances. I take a deep breath and remember to move. He hasn't seen me and is now facing Jimmy and the stage. I'm right behind him when I tap him on the shoulder.

  Duncan turns. Instead of his usual fun smile, his features are stern. And then his eyes meet mine. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

  We practically need to scream to be heard. "It's Sheila. She insisted we come downtown. We’re just a few doors down, but she's freaking out."

  Duncan looks from me to Jimmy. "He's not done anything, but not for lack of trying."

  "Kurt?" I ask.

  "He just wants to leave."

  I nod and pull out my phone. "Let's get out of here. I'll call an Uber and get them all home before something bad happens."

  Duncan smiles. "Best idea I've heard all night."

  Twenty minutes later we've poured Jimmy, Kurt, Sheila, Scarlett, Justin, and Jillian into an XL, and Kevin, Susan, Duncan, and I have gotten into another car. My ears are still ringing. I'm sandwiched between Susan and Duncan in the backseat when Duncan reaches for my hand.

  We don't talk, but there's something about the way he holds it that is comforting.

  Finally, I whisper, "Thanks for keeping an eye on Jimmy."

  "It wasn't just me. Kevin was on it." Duncan laughs and speaks loud enough for everyone in the car to hear. "At first I thought your brother was coming down with something."

  Kevin laughs and turns around from the front seat. "It didn't occur to me that Dunc wouldn't know the signal. I started coughing louder, figuring he's just not very fast."

  "Dunc?" I ask.

  Duncan shrugs. "I've never had a nickname before."

  I turn toward Kevin. "Being fast isn't something to brag about, bro."

  Even Susan laughs as the driver takes us all back to the farm.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kimbra

  Kevin and Susan walk hand in hand up the stairs toward the house as our Uber drives away. When I start to follow, Duncan holds tight to my hand but doesn't move. Instead, he stares up at the sky.

  "What?" I ask once we're alone.

  "There are so many stars."

  "Yeah, once we get away from the city—"

  His warm lips capture mine. My breathing hitches as I melt toward Duncan's chest. When we finally break our kiss, he says, "Let's go for a walk."

  "Okay."

  The moon is barely a sliver, leaving the sky black as space, dotted with thousands of twinkling diamonds of all sizes and clarity. Duncan leads me toward the barn, but instead of going in, we walk around to the back.

  "I've never been as happy to see anyone as I was you in that club," he says.

  I smile. "You didn't seem like it when you first turned toward me. You looked kind of angry."

  "I thought you were another woman hitting on me or your brother or cousin..."

  My chest fills with pride that he didn't want me to be one of those women—another woman. "I admit I was a little freaked out at what I'd find."

  Duncan leads us to two old lawn chairs leaning against the back of the barn. They look a little rusty. The night air fills with the sound of creaking as he unfolds them. "Do you think these will hold us?" he asks.

  "One way to find out." I gingerly sit on the old nylon weaving.

  Duncan does the same. Other than a few stretch noises and more creaks, they seem to hold. "Why?" he asks.

  "Why what?"

  "Why were you freaked out?"

  I shrug and look out over the field, up to the stars.

  "Kimbra?"

  I sigh, unsure if I should be honest or play it off about Jimmy. The seconds tick by. In the distance crickets sing and an occasional toad croaks.

  Duncan reaches over and takes my hand. After a reassuring squeeze, he asks, "Were you worried about Jimmy?"

  It's my chance. I can pretend. That's what this weekend is about, right?

  Instead, I nibble my lip and make the decision to be honest. "I guess I was concerned about Jimmy. Sheila was freaking out. But that wasn't why I was nervous." I look down at our intertwined fingers. Duncan's grasp is warm and sure. My gaze moves up to his eyes before I speak again. "I know this is pretend and you don't owe me any kind of monogamy, but as I stepped into that club, I didn't want to find you with another woman draped all over you. I didn't want my fantasy to end, not yet."

  The starlight illuminates his chiseled chin and protruding brow. Slowly his cheeks rise in a smile as small lines form near the corners of his eyes. God, he's so handsome. I don't have any right to hold him back. He's a player. It's who he is. Asking him not to be is like asking the river to flow backward.

  Duncan squeezes my hand again. "Turning and seeing you was my fantasy. Remember? You called this pretend. I'm the one who called it a fantasy. Let me enjoy it, too."

  "But doesn't Duncan Willis enjoy having beautiful women draped all over him?"

  "You've probably heard a few things about me." He shrugs as his smile dims. "Some are true and others aren't. Some I'm proud of, others I'm not. It's kind of complicated, but all I know is that right now I'm enjoying." His gaze sweeps over me, as if he can see what is underneath my sundress. "Very much immensely enjoying one beautiful woman. And I brought her back here to do just that."

  My heart flutters. "Oh? To do what?"

  "To have you draped all over me."

  "You're insatiable!" I laugh.

  "Only when it comes to you."

  I stand, but before Duncan can move, I drop to my knees in front of him. No longer do I feel the unease of being on my knees as I did at Gaston's. This time it is on purpose and I plan to make it memorable.

  "I think it's my turn," I say as I reach for the belt on his jeans. Damn, he looks great in jeans. He looks hot in a suit too.


  By the time I release his zipper, his cock has grown rock-hard. I run my hands over the tightening, velvety skin. Licking my lips, I see a small amount of cum leaking from the slit on the crown, glistening in the starlight. Momentarily I peer up through veiled lashes.

  He’s watching my every move. "Kimbra, you don't—"

  I don't let him finish as I open my mouth wide and take him deep, sheathing my teeth with my lips. Simultaneously, I wrap the base of his cock with my fingers and work my mouth and hand in unison. Up and down my head bobs as I lick and suck. His taste is salty and tangy, a unique and not unpleasant flavor.

  With my other hand, I reach for his balls. The triple attack causes a deep, reverberating groan from him as his length reaches the back of my throat. His sac tightens as I roll his balls between my fingers and continue to pump his steel rod. When I open my eyes, I notice the way his hands grip the arms of the chair. His fingertips blanch, all the while not pushing or directing me, but allowing me to go at my own speed.

  His cock throbs and legs tense as his pressure builds. Against the aluminum arms of the rickety old chair, Duncan’s fingers tighten. I wonder if he could bend the metal if he tried. The country air fills with a pop as I come off his tip. Duncan's head is back, his neck stretched until I speak. "Use me..." I direct his hand to my hair. "...I want you to fuck my mouth, like you've let me ride yours."

  His growl sends shivers throughout my body that dampen my already-wet panties. He twists his long fingers through my hair. No longer in control, my lips suck and hands work as he guides my head, pushing me down until I'm sure I'll choke, only to release me and then do it again. With each assertion, my core clenches, wanting its own relief, but more than satisfied knowing that it's me who has this gorgeous man on the edge of ecstasy.

  As the pressure mounts, Duncan's hand trembles. And then he releases me, allowing me to back away.

  I don't.

  “Kimbra…I’m going to come.”

  I don’t stop. Instead, I dive down, taking him to my limit as my hand continues to pump. I didn’t start this with the intention of quitting.

  His whole body shudders as he comes apart and warm streams of thick liquid fill my mouth and flow down my throat.

  It isn't until I've licked him clean that I finally sit up. When our eyes meet, I smile and lick my lips.

  With his gaze only on me, his voice rumbles. "Fucking perfect.” His grin quirks to a sexy smirk. “Tell me, Kimbra, did you come?"

  Since his cock was just in my mouth, his question no longer seems inappropriate.

  I tilt my head and return his grin. "I'm very turned on, but no, I didn't."

  "Are you wet?"

  "Soaked."

  Duncan takes my hand in his and pulls me forward. Our lips unite as his tongue searches for his own taste. When he releases me, he stands, adjusts himself in his jeans, and says, "Let's go upstairs and I'll do what I can to rectify that situation."

  As we walk toward the house, Duncan looks up at the dark windows and asks, "Tell me about Susan. She's very quiet."

  "I think it's because she doesn't know you. She and Kevin have been married since the summer they graduated college."

  "College? Kevin is a farmer."

  "Yes. He studied agriculture at Purdue. Being a farmer is more than planting seeds and harvesting crops. It's a science." I turn us back toward the field. "Like this field. This year it has corn."

  Duncan hums his agreement.

  "But every third year it has soybeans. It's about preserving the land, the soil. For too long people just took from it. When that happens, the earth can't give the size of crops needed. With the stuff Kevin learned, he and Dad have multiplied their yield. Dad has the experience and Kevin understands not only the science, but also more of the business: weather cycles, when to sell, when to store. It's all rather complicated."

  Letting go of my hand, Duncan wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his side. "You, Miss Jones, amaze me."

  I laugh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the way I fit against him. "I impress you because I know a little bit about how to grow corn and soybeans?"

  "So much more than that. You’re loyal to a fault. Even after the jabs Kevin has made at you, you’re touting his attributes. I’m also impressed because you’re full of knowledge. I've seen you in action at Buchanan and Willis. I've seen the reports and know how you work with the different departments to increase productivity. I've sat through meetings where you've fired people twice your age and not hesitated or backed down once. What I hadn't seen, until this weekend, is the woman who blushes at her grandma's jokes, protects her older brother, and cares about her cousin enough to walk into a gentlemen's club to be sure that no one gets hurt."

  "I wasn't too worried about Jimmy."

  "Maybe you should be," Duncan says. "I don't know him, but I know an unhappy person when I see him, and he's not loving life right now."

  A heaviness crushes my chest as I scrunch my nose. "Wow, I guess I didn't realize how bad it was. I do care about my cousins. We all grew up together. I know that now they think I'm strange, but we used to be close. I say things about Scarlett being perfect, because it's annoying as hell. But...I want them all to be happy. Sheila is the oldest of us four girls. She had her life all planned out, but her plans have had detours. Jillian and I are the two misfits."

  Duncan lifts my chin until his green eyes are all I see. "You, Miss Jones, are not a misfit. You are, however, wrong."

  "I am?" I question. "I thought you just said I was smart."

  "I said you're knowledgeable. You're also smart, beautiful, kind, and loving, and in no way are you a misfit or any less than Scarlett. Don't get me wrong: I can appreciate a pretty woman when I see one. Your cousin is pretty. From what little bit I've talked to her, she seems nice and extremely in love with Kurt, but if she walked into my office, I could admire her and forget her." He kisses my nose. "June, three years ago, a stunning woman walked into my office. She hasn't left my thoughts since."

  Before I can remind us both that this is only pretend, Duncan's lips cover mine, swallowing my reply. Without thought, my body melts against him. The way my breasts press against his hard chest reminds me of the promise he made earlier. When our kiss ends, I tug him toward the steps.

  Still outside, I remember his question and say, "Susan does talk. Tonight, while we were out, just the girls, she was talking and laughing with everyone. You met my other cousin, Jillian. She lives in Illinois. The two of us are the misfits, whether you see it or not."

  "Why?"

  "Well, for one, after tomorrow we'll be the only ones not married."

  Duncan laughs. "Or without 2.5 children."

  I shrug. "Or a dog."

  He leans in and brushes his lips over mine. "I can't help you with any of those things, but I can help you with something else."

  "What is that?"

  "Remember that little problem I promised to rectify? Let's go upstairs and I'll prove to you that I'm a man of my word."

  For the first time that I can recall, I have a desire for what Duncan can't or doesn't want to help me with, the whole deal, more than just plus-one—marriage, children, and dog. However, the way my insides pinch at his reminder, I also want what he's offering me upstairs.

  Quietly we make our way to my room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Duncan

  ”So tell me about my granddaughter."

  Helen’s question takes me by surprise.

  I move my focus from the sun-drenched fields to Helen's serious expression. The two of us are sitting in wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Kimbra, Susan, and Judy are all in the kitchen. I offered to help with the breakfast dishes, but Judy pushed Helen and me out the door into the warm morning air.

  Kevin and Oscar are doing something on the farm. Their parting comment was about how there's no such thing as a day off. Generally, I'd agree. However, this weekend is different.

  Of course, I haven’t been totally
without contact. I've been in communication with Jorge and Mike. Via texts and emails, I'm up to date on everything happening in New York and at our satellite locations. After Kimbra's interesting proposal and before we left, I told Mike everything.

  He wasn't pleased with what I'd done, or almost done, in the bathroom; nevertheless, he was cautiously optimistic about my deal with Kimbra. We both laughed that she would truly think she's blackmailing me into being her plus-one. If there is anyone who knows me, it is Michael Buchanan, and he and I both know that I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.

  A man who accomplishes what I have by my thirties isn't one who succumbs to blackmail. I am a man who seizes an opportunity when it presents itself, especially if that opportunity includes four days—and nights—with Kimbra Jones.

  Mike and I met our freshman year of college and the rest is history. We both come from financially stable families. Neither was wealthy. Some might say middle-class. No matter the title, we were comfortable, but still we both longed for more. That drive helped me focus during a rough time. Our business ambition became my life.

  We worked hard and did our homework. We studied the markets, economy, and fiscal environment. It became obvious with the aging demographics that no matter what happens in other markets, people will need pharmaceuticals. The development and patents are a nightmare. Let someone else do that. We focused on logistics, getting each pharmaceutical from point A to point B in the most efficient and economic fashion. Add in the fact that medication is consumable, the concept was golden. Together we built Buchanan and Willis into the pharmaceutical logistics giant that it is today.

  "Tell you about Kimbra?" I reply to Helen. "I'd suspect you can tell me more."

  Her wrinkled hand covers mine. "Son, don't bullshit an old woman."

 

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